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kiss-me-muchoo · 9 months

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𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬, 𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐳𝐞 || 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠!𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one: stop, you’re losing me || part two: in the trees, in the breeze (here)

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ your memory kept haunting Coriolanus Snow, so he found the way to end his exile. It’s a new era, but the same old feelings between Coriolanus and you keep causing scandals. Although, you are not ready to let go the pain he caused to you.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_ Capitol ballerina!reader, angst, drama, violence and death lol, jealousy, unhinged Coriolanus, sex mentions, reader still has health problems, etc. 13k words fic IM SORRY

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞_ hear this along Can’t catch me now, I’m not an OR fan but I love that song from her. I mean, who didn’t? And thank you for the wait and loveeeee. PLEASE TELL ME OF ANY ERRORS BC I CAN’T BE ALMOST ACCUSED OF BEING TRANSPHOBIC PLEASEEEE

♪ ♫ awful Coriolanus Snow playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

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Red, blue, red, red, yellow, green, green, pink.

Every color is correctly marked. A nurse smiles with some papers on her hand before she dissapears.

You can get dressed again. The color test was done, your vision was okay.

Purple and green bruises are scattered across your skin. Some appeared on your inner thighs. Two on your knees and one on the ribs from the day you collapsed after the post-Hunger Games celebration. You sigh covering your skin with a long floral dress. The reflection of yourself on the mirror salutes you with a tired, broken and sad face. It makes you force a smile, pretending more people were watching you. The room in empty though.

“Everything is fine. Your body is responding well to the shots.” A doctor asks as soon as he walks in into the room.

“The only thing that worries me is your mental health. Have you been stressed or has anything happened to you that could be considered a traumatic experience?”

The pointe shoes soaked in blood. The unstoppable bleeding on your feet. The late nights with panic attacks and over thinking. That young blonde man and the songbird together. The night on dressing room, how your hand burned after slapping the man so hard. The shock of all the events surrounding your life two weeks ago. How you lost control, your head spinning, blurred vision, heart pounding, numb arms and how you felt the oxygen was leaving. All the things you did for someone who never deserved you, making you shatter, fainting as soon as you finished dancing.

“Miss y/l/n… Are you okay?” The distant voice of the doctor breaks your bubble. You shake your head in disguise before turning away from the mirror, facing him and smiling politely.

“Yes, I’m fine. I was very stressed, yeah. Working with the production of the Hunger Games. My artistic performances, last days at the Academy. It was a lot…” the doctor sighs, annotating something. He then handed you the paper.

“I’m giving you some treatment for that. And please, you have to be careful and calm. Only that way the medicine will help everything to work here” he points his head. You nod, accepting the paper.

After that, you leave the private hospital. Trevor is there, your chauffeur and friend. He smiles, opening the door for you.

“Thank you, Trevor” he starts the car soon after.

“Is everything okay?” You nod, looking at the bright day at the Capitol.

“I just need to relax and eat well.” Trevor had trimmed his hair. It made him look younger, making you smile at the memory of him saying his wife was his hairstylist.

“Good. Oh, I received a call from your mother. This woman…uh, Dr. Volumnia Gaul? She wants to see you at the Univeristy today” you frown to look at him confused.

“Oh? So… Can we go now?” He nods, turning left to start the route. Meanwhile, you wonder what could she want. You made your part, the games had a higher amount of viewers compared to last year. You engaged with the production and the celebration was at full capacity. Your little accident even made it more attractive to the media. Appearing on the papers and magazines across Panem.

And after everything, you still wanted to keep dancing. Or else range would consume you.

…

It’s the first time you step inside the Capitol’s University. It’s very similar to the Academy, but the floor tiles are green and white. There’s a lot of white, cream, golden and black decorating the halls and long stairs.

Since it’s summer, most of the building was empty. Only some of the staff, and very few people who seemed like students. You see they dress very elegant. Some women wore hats with feathers or flowers. The men wore classy suits and you genuinely thought you would fit in.

You couldn’t wait to have some sense of normality as a Univeristy student along Clemensia and Lysistrata. Your only close friends left. Well, also Festus and Sejanus. At the time, you didn’t event know your dear friend was dead.

What seems like the private office of Gaul has a red door. Inside, she had a laboratory, smaller but weirder than the one you had seen before. Full of dissected creatures, tanks and crystal containers with unknown chemicals.

Some steps further and you see her desk, where she is collecting some folders and putting them away in some shelves.

“Glad to see you breathing, miss y/l/n…” somehow you found the humor to smile coldly.

“As you can see.” You reply standing perfectly correct.

“By this point you should know what happened to Mr. Snow” goosebumps make you shake your shoulders slightly, you nod again.

“He was exiled. Twenty years. He lied to me and did not said a thing about cheating on the games”

“Indeed. However this morning, I just discovered he bribed a woman to be sent to District 12.” You bite your tongue to hide your fury. A hot feeling invade your chest in rage. But you just breathe, failing to not show discontent.

“That’s not any of my business anymore.” Even Gaul seems taken aback. However, she doesn’t say anything, she just keeps pulling away the pile of folders.

“Well, since it seems you both parted ways… I must share that I’m deleting any record or data related to the 10th Hunger Games. Too many things happened before, during and after the games. Things that would compromise the reputation of the whole organization. Including me, the Academy, the mentors, you and Mr. Snow” honestly, you don’t know what to say. You just frown slightly, demonstrating how confused you were. But you also understood with half of the context. The death of Arachne, Coriolanus and his odd ways to make his songbird oustand, the rebel attack, Lucy Gray Baird winning from cheat. And the things you didnt know like Sejanus entering the arena.

However, you stick to your parent’s advice. You have to think about you and anyone else.

“I understand. But I did my part. I completed my task so I hope this decision doesn’t jeopardize my grant” she smiles. Dr. Gaul secretly believed that you and Coriolanus Snow could rule Panem together. In a sick and evil way, so she really hoped her dark intentions would work.

“Of course not. We had a deal. The views went up this year. You brought a new vision for the promotion that I’ll hardly let go.” The ambition started tickling you. Making you roll your tongue inside your closed mouth, at the verge of opening it and talking.

“Good.”

“In fact, you would be a nice option to become head of the promotion and relations team.” From the last games, you realized the director only gave instructions but he rarely did the dirty job. You liked having some power over the games. And now, a childish and unjustified resentment towards District 12 made you smile as Gaul offered you a new job.

“Is it a possible option to be working in behalf of my mother’s institution?”

“You’re very smart, y/n y/l/n. You are going further than Mr. Snow” your smile only grows, knowing you are nit being correct. You are letting the rage and resentment to guide you. You will make your last name shine brighter than your parents did. Just to rub it in the face of certain blonde who was now exiled. Probably savoring the country life of District 12.

“I just want to make my family’s name bigger than it already is” the woman giggles, taking out a red envelope and handing it you.

“I assume you’ll pursue the arts as you’re speciality. But if you want to get involved with the production, marketing and relations. You are taking politics and some lessons with me” when you look down at the envelope, the golden logo of the university is greeting you. It’s the admission letter.

“I expect to see you here by the end of the summer” you nod, thanking her.

And as you walk outside where Trevor is waiting for you, you have a cocky smile. Feelings like things could go better. You don’t even remember the doctor’s appointment you were in before coming to see Gaul.

…

Your soft hands gently brush against his forehead. Coriolanus had chills, he hadn’t had fever since he was 15 years old. But your hands are so soft even when they feel cold as ice. He just knows he’s in his bed. In his rottening penthouse. He can see a slightly blurred image of you, wearing a green dress, your hair in a braid, a golden necklace, dark purple lips. He can’t hear your words, but you are talking to him, spreading some cream across his chest, immediately he felt the mint soothing his cough and pain. He must’ve said something funny, because he can now see clearly your face, gorgeous as always. And he can clearly hear you laughing.

Coriolanus wakes up smiling. And he realised he was dreaming.

He was in a small and creaky lower bunk bed. Sejanus sleeping in the upper bunk. The sun hasn’t come up. And he’s a peacekeeper in District 12.

It’s been weeks since he left the Capitol. And since day one, you seem to be haunting him.

Current dreams of you, swearing to be hearing your voice. It makes him want to call you every single day. But he doesn’t. He was able to forget about you when he was in the peacekeeper training and duties. When he was with Lucy Gray any trace of you was gone. But as soon as he had a moment alone, he would remember everyhting about you.

He missed you. Painfully a lot.

Every Friday, he had been sending the letters. He hoped your mother would hand them to you. But Coriolanus knew you too well to know you likely would not be reading them. Nonetheless, he was letting himself to write the most vulnerable pieces of him, putting his heart on each word and phrase. Hoping that by the time his exile was over, you would have forgiven him.

When the sun came up, he was up along the rest of the boys. Sejanus gives him a friendly smile and they’re out exercising and doing jobs all day long. During his break, he’s able to seat in an old bench, with a beautiful view of an open green field.

That’s when he dreams of seeing you there, dancing or simply standing there with a sundress. Like the ones you used to wear on summer when he visited the house your parents had in District 4. He dreams so hard that he swears seeing the skirt of your dress swaying through the trees. And that’s when he knows he’s so fucked up.

But that’s long forgotten after the break is over. And by the night, he’s on the biggest bar of the town. He sees Lucy Gray singing something new. He honestly never understood the meaning behind her songs, but he was enchanted by her do what she loved.

After her live presentation, a big projector was introduced. They started playing the weather with Lucky Flickerman. Which made Coriolanus miss the Capitol so bad.

“They’re probably waiting for some women. That’s why the always start that thing” Lucy Gray said, appearing by his side and pointing at the projector. He smiled at her.

“To see women?” She nodded, grabbing a glass of cold water.

“You know how are men around here” with no tv around, no ostentatious lifestyles, men could get excited with little makeup and satin gowns. Coriolanus was disgusted by many mannerism of the 12. He had heard and seen many disapproving behaviors. But he was happy to be able to find some peace along the songbird.

“Yes, I know. What’s that thing by the way?” When Coriolanus turned around to see the old projector, he almost choked after seeing the big logo appearing.

It was the summer fundraising charity of your mother. Another luxurious gala to help the constructions of the Capitol after war. However, that wasnt the most impressive part for Coriolanus. Seconds after the recovered from seeing something directly related to his past, you appeared in the projector, entering the stage and getting in pose to start a performance.

Lucy Gray Baird was in shock. So if she was surprised, the men all around the bar where cheering and whistling.

There you were, with curled wet hair, metallic bronze makeup, wine lips, golden bracelets on your arms. But it was the attire. A two piece set that let your legs and stomach show off. With bare feet, and two elegant knives, one in each hand. Your cocky smile was back. And it was ruining Coriolanus Snow.

He literally jumped from his seat, leaving Lucy Gray to cross the river of men and properly see you.

She knew you had broken up with him. And that relieved the songbird, as she felt like she could let her feelings for Coriolanus flow freely. But seeing the boy literally hipnotized as soon he saw you, it made her feel uneasy. Deeply she knew that Coriolanus wasn’t over you. And no matter what, you were a sensible subject for him. That not even herself could ever test.

But he kept going. Each step meant hearing them say how good you looked, the places where they’d put their hands on your body. It boiled his blood.

But finally, the dance killed him. Because maybe for the capitol you were still elegant and classy. Their eyes would publicly appreciate your art, and privately let their mind wander with your half naked body. But for people from the 12. It was like throwing a piece of meat to lions in starvation.

With your hips swaying tentatively, pointed feet and letting everyone know how flexible you were. That sassy look on your face that Coriolanus was feeling too personal. It was like you were saying “look what you lost”.

He was used to see you in pastel tutus, hair in a bun. Not this goddess ritual dance type of thing. The music was very different, something very uncommon in Panem. He really wants to punch every man in the room. He sees how most of the women in the bar see your graceful image with disgust. And Coriolanus couldn’t blame them. But it made him remember that he had lost the right to call you his. And that intrusive thought made him automatically think he wanted to go back home so badly.

Your sensual and meticulous steps keep going, the knives making him remember the folk tales of women dancing with sharp objects to show fertility, honor of their kingdom and to seal a man’s faith. Every minute more desperate for Snow, who’s over the edge of hearing men say plenty of things about you. But soon, the music stops with you arched, pointed feet, your curls kissing the stage, the knives perfectly pointing like a clock.

Coriolanus doesnt miss your evil smile. He can sense you are changing. And he remember all the pain he caused you, making him sigh in resignation. His desire of going back for you only growing.

“I’m sorry I left like that” he explains to Lucy Gray. She notices how quick he drank his beer. She was a woman after all, she knew the effect a fine female could have on men. Especially on the man who was their lover. The one that probably hurt her and left her, ending their history in bad terms.

“It’s okay. I told you she was very pretty before” Coriolanus learns that Lucy Gray was not being sarcastic that day at the zoo.

…

It had come to the point where he couldn’t run away from his thoughts. Coriolanus was borderline obsessed with your memory. He constantly wondered how you were doing. He had to ask Tigris every time they talked to see learn anything about you.

For the first time, since he left the Capitol, Tigris shares that she had talked to you.

Coriolanus was surprised to hear that the reason you gave about the breakup was only because he cheated with Lucy Gray.

You didn’t said a word about him the lies, the last argument you two had. You only say that his songbird was special. And that you stopped to be what he needed.

Which was heavily mistaken. Some days before he accepted that you were the only thing he needed to keep going. He imagines a fake scenario where you came to the 12 with him. You find a humble home where you wait till his training is over. The lake where he spent hours with Lucy Gray and The Covey could’ve been hours with you. Talking about anything and everything. He would’ve come straight home to you when the training was over. Make love to you, promise to fight for a higher position, possibly as a commander one day and marrying you. And soon the years would’ve passed, his exile would be over and you would go back to the Capitol with him. Maybe some children along.

But that would never happen. And his delusion was starting to make him find a way to go back where he belonged.

He questioned if his urges where for power, or to get back with the woman he loved.

Whatever the reason was, a lot of people would pay the price. First were the daughter of the mayor and her partner, then the man who had the decency to hide the gun he used to kill those two. Who also happened to be his alleged best friend.

His hands trembling as he pressed to record Sejanus. But he knew there were high possibilities of being heard. And that way, he would go back. He would find you and slowly start again.

The death of Sejanus would haunt him for a long time. He knew he was a close friend of yours, which made him get chills, uneasy to decide what could be your reaction to the news. Either way, it was done. The heavens had to have heard him. He was offered to serve in District 2, gain some money and he could easily take the train to see you if anything.

But Lucy Gray had other plans. And Coriolanus wasnt even sure of what he was doing. Probably in his rambling and panic after everything he went through as a peacekeeper, one side of him wanted to run away and never see back again. To forget about his decisions as a mentor, to forget about his decisions as a peacekeeper and to forget about you. That way he would never have to face all the pain he caused you.

After some hours of walking, Coriolanus should have seen the signs.

“Everyone in the Covey are really good dancers. But I don’t think it’s my thing. I just have my voice…” Lucy Gray said, holding her bag tightly. Coriolanus only smiled, remembering how bad the songbird was when he tried to teach her how to waltz.

“Is it like… exclusive in the Capitol?”

“I think so. Today there’s only one institution, the mother of…” he goes quiet, realizing what he was about to say.

“…y/n?” She asked, almost nervous about mentioning your name. But in reality, she wasnt. After Coriolanus nodded, they just kept walking in silence.

“Her mother founded it?”

“It was her grandmother actually. Mine knew her, and they were kind of friends” he said smiling, trying to look away from Lucy Gray so he couldn’t see him smiling.

Once you leaned Coriolanus was financially struggling some years ago, you ended up visiting him for the first time. That day you learned Grandma’am was friend of your family before your mother was born. And that only made her appreciate you faster. Which made Coriolanus happy. Finally seeing her grandmother to let go the days of the war and any crazy ideas that stayed on her mind. All thanks to you.

“Grandma’am even started planting pink roses for her.” It slipped out automatically, he couldn’t control it.

“She’s like ink…” Coriolanus missed the point. But after some minutes of silence, he understood what Lucy Gray said. Which resulted true. Metaphorically, you were the brightest tint he’d ever seen. He let that ink fall and splash everywhere, leaving stains on him that probably would never leave.

And finally, Lucy Gray Baird fell to her end in the shallow woods. Hunted like a prey. By a broken man who decided to stop being good. Who was losing his mind for the pieces of a woman he let go so easily.

That changes like the destination of Coriolanus.

He’s going back to the Capitol. With tiny sparks of hope. But firmly believing that everyhting was meant to happen like that so he could go back to you.

However, as he came closer, Coriolanus realized he was lost. He had no idea what would await for him. And what version of you would greet him.

…

There isn’t an exact period over the Capitol that can’t be considered as autumn. The summer was practically over, and winter was already happening. Coriolanus had to wait longer than expected to get into University. In the meantime, he accepted the money from the Plinth family. He decided to get ahead of time. He used the last hot days to get Tigris and Grandma’am back to the penthouse. He bought the whole building and in two weeks the whole place was renewed. There was only one thing he couldn’t get rid of. The living room and entrance olive paint you brought. He painted the halls, dining room, studio and kitchen in a dark blue paint. But he wasnt able to get rid of the memories he made with you. His old self was long gone. But he had his supcisions that the version he was for you would never change.

However, he decided to stay afar from the public eye for that month after returning from exile.

Tigris said she hadn’t seen you. But that was okay. He would soon enter to University. He was going to see you there.

Eventually the day came. He gets rid off Casca Highbottom and then he walks towards the big and imposing University of the Capitol. He had a driver now, but he thought it wouldn’t be bad to use the mornings to walk.

In his first hours inside, he has private lessons with Dr. Gaul. Already mentoring him to be a game maker. She kind of suspects he was involved with the sudden death of Highbottom. But for some reason, Gaul has a lot of hopes in him, so she would easily act blind to keep her plans to keep going.

After that, Coriolanus starts looking out for you. He crosses the big seminar rooms and other halls. Until he is able to locate the arts building. It’s smaller but probably the most interesting. With a beautiful barroque facade. As soon as he enters, he sees a group of girls holding large canvas with beautiful paintings on them. Then, some steps later he spots two guys trying to carry a sculpture. Coriolanus believes that kind of modern art was the future of the Capitol. He had to admit the arts building was fully alive, he even forgot he was still at the university.

Coming down from some stairs, he sees two girls. A red haired and a tanned with black leotards and floral skirts are giggling. They seems like dancers, he doesnt think twice. He’s already approaching the girls.

“Excuse me, ladies. Do you know by any chance where I can find y/n y/l/n?” The girls look cheekily at each other, before smiling at him. Which makes Coriolanus wonder what type of rumours had been flowing around about you and him. Since mostly everyone knew the last Snow heir was dating the daughter of the kings of Panem´s television industry.

“She’s rehearsing a class for new students. It’s on the second floor, you’ll hear the music…” he thanks the tanned girl before going upstairs.

She wasn’t lying. He started hearing the classical piano music. He can hear some distant and low cheering. The whole floor is full of dancers. It’s a long hall, to the right, a big studio, with a classical mural, chandeliers and the most giant mirror he’d ever seen.

The people outside the studio see him with curiosity. But he only has eyes for the ballerina dancing all across the studio.

There you are, with a coral tutu, baby pink leotard and thighs. Your pointe shoes seem new. Your cheeks look so pink and your smile is there.

He has to understand that you have become popular enough to have your own fans. Some rumors said that your mother was offering master classes at the University. And he couldn’t help but think how much your family’s name have growth since he left.

He lost count of many turns you did, but you finish cleanly, offering a beautiful view of your tutu wadding. He can’t stop smiling.

People start a round of applauses. He debates whether to get closer or not. He doesnt have any speech prepared. He doesn’t know what to say to you.

“Coriolanus?” When he turns around, he sees Clemensia Dovecote there. Her old study buddy looked older, but not in a bad way. He saw the scales on her skin. But he didnt had to ask, he knew it was because of the rainbow snakes. It just seemed weird to see her short sleeves but turtleneck, rather than her trying to cover all of her face.

“Clemensia” he greets her. Clemmie was probably your female best friend. It wasnt a surprise that suddenly the woman seemed to dislike him.

“Since when you returned?” He looks back at you again. As the music keeps playing, he just smiles. He know the way things would now work. With no how are you questions or anything like the past.

“Some weeks ago.” Clemensia looks like she’s analyzing every movement and word of him.

“Why are you here?” Her hostile tone only makes Coriolanus to act more relaxed than he already is.

“I made the promise to come back for y/n…” the woman stares at him, probably taken aback.

“She doesn’t need this, Coriolanus. She can’t have this” Clemensia had visited you at the hospital. She learned most of his lies towards you. She knew you didn’t deserved to fall again. And especially not because of him.

“I know, Clemmie. I won’t be a burden for her” the music stops, and Coriolanus decides that it’s not time to talk to you yet. So he smiles once again to Clemensia.

“I hope so. Because you already failed her once…” his smile drops. Clemensia dissapears to get inside the studio. Coriolanus stares at you one last time, before he silently walks out.

…

Before you can reach your glass of posca, a porcelain plate with your food slides on the way. A soft piece pile of fried little steaks, with melted cheese and a golden sauce of mushrooms dripping. Your stomach churns and it makes Clemensia laugh.

She had a salmon fine cut with caviar and other exotic stuff. It was a beautiful afternoon to have dinner at one of the most elegant restaurants of the Capitol Downtown.

“Bless your food.”

“Bless your food” you reply back to her.

“So, How it went the rehearsal?” You roll your eyes giggling.

“It was great, until the girls taking the masterclass appeared to see me” your father was right. After working in the production of the 10th Hunger Games, many doors opened for you. Splendid career opportunities here and there. Only that you didn’t enjoy a lot of attention.

“Are they still at the Academy” you nod.

“Rich girls who can make their parents pay the classes of course” Clemensia smiles, drinking a little bit before getting back to eat.

“Coriolanus was looking for you…” you literally stopped eating. You almost drop your fork, but you decided to hold it firmly.

“What?”

“Apparently he’s back.” She reveals. Making you close your eyes in panic.

“How? He was exiled” you say whispering. Clemmie shrugs.

“Gaul. He’s her pupil star. And with Dean Highbottom dead now…” it must’ve been great for Coriolanus to learn the man was gone. Always putting him in the lowest, it was a mark for change.

“Doesn’t matter, I won’t let this get into my way” she smiles.

“What about what your father said?” During a late lunch, you had been talking with your parents, revealing that you broke up with Coriolanus because he cheated. Your mother was shocked, but soon she joined your father to give a twisted advice. He asked if you still loved him. You answered you weren’t sure.

Then I suggest you to proceed to ignore him. Soon you’ll learn his intentions if he ever comes back. Play with him a little. Show him that nobody will laugh in the face of family like ours. Let your hands get dirty, but never show this insecurity you’re talking about.

From that day, you still wake up every morning without knowing how you actually feel about Coriolanus Snow. You know you can’t just simply forget about all the things you did with him. But you firmly pretended that he was in the past.

“I still don’t know how I feel about him.”

“Are you still in contact with his family?” You remember Tigris and Grandma’am.

“Not as much as I used to”

“Mhm. Did they ever learned what happened?” You sigh.

“Just that he opted to choose the songbird before me. And I know Tigris has her own opinion. I just never gave her the opportunity to share it.”

“With him back… probably you’ll find out sooner than later” Clemensia admits, leaving you thinking for the rest of the dinner.

Turns out that you are not ready to find out yet.

…

The first time you see him, it’s at the gardens of the University. You had lunch and wanted to have a brief walk. Through a maze of flowers and plants, you spot him on a bench. He’s very concentrated reading a book. Your eyes widen, seeing how much different he looked. The posture, the clothes, the hair, the cold look.

Something notoriously changed. And you have your suspicions. It wasn’t a coincidence that Sejanus was gone, and Lucy Gray Baird had dissapeared.

You mourned the death of Sejanus one week. You send your condolences to his parents at the funeral. And that night you can’t help but cry on your pillow. Wondering why had life slowly turned dark. In a matter of months you had experienced things you never thought you would. You lost people, you had your first heart broken. You had lost the will to do much things. But, you had to keep going. And you felt guilty, because you thought you had no right to feel like your life was hard, just for being Capitol. The districts struggled more. However, it’s not on your power to mend their lives. Just as it’s not their case to judge your life.

And now, seeing Coriolanus so firm, so calm, it makes you doubt. Sensing that there must’ve been something off about him. Something bad, like all the things he did and hid from you.

You pretend you’re looking for some papers in your bag when you walk past him. He doesn’t see you though, and you thank it.

A couple of days later, you hear for the first time the rumours about him courting Livia Cardew. It makes you feel depressed. You cry out of anger as soon as you get home.

And to your dismay, the first thing you see after turning into a room for the politics class, it’s them. Coriolanus Snow is talking to Livia just beside the door.

That’s the first time you two look at each other again. He sees the anger, discontent and so much resentment. You see the questioning, curiosity and admiration in his eyes.

Nothing else is said because you break the gazes, you walk inside the room with your head high, and your presence is so evident that even Livia has to look at you. Taking too much time to see your beautiful heels.

A week later, you are having a good time with your friends. Festus and Lysistrata are there with you and Clemensia. You are talking all about the upcoming winter gala held at the biggest auditorium in the Capitol. Everyone is excited because it’s the great opportunity to make contacts and eat the most delicious food.

“Is your mother inviting Coriolanus?” Lysistrata asks with curiosity. You roll your eyes at the subject.

“I hope not. I haven’t even spoken with him ever since he came back” everyone knew you had broke up with him. But only Clemensia knew the details.

“Well, apparently he is courting Livia now” Festus mocks, making everyone laugh. Not that any of you had something personal against Livia. But she wasn’t the most brilliant star at the Academy. Now not certainly at University.

“Why Livia?” Clemmie asks laughing.

“Perhaps it’s becase how naïve she is”

“Or because of her father’s inheritance” you add.

“I don’t think so. He’s now the heir of the Plinth fortune” Festus remarks with dessaproval, which makes you feel angered.

“He’s dancing on Sejanus’ grave” your words create some minutes of silence for your late friend. Even when Festus and Lysistrata had made fun of him for being District and the ways of his parents to go up, at the end, they were friends. And now his absence had created a void.

“Ambitious and annoying. Just like his father…” Lysistrata comments sipping on her glass of water.

“How unfortunate. If he had stayed with you, we wouldn’t be talking bad things about him behind his back” you sigh at Clemensia’s words.

“Speaking of the king…” when you look past Lysistrata seated on her chair, you spot Coriolanus. He was wearing a dark grey suit, he looked so fine you had to admit. But soon you look away, the sudden memories of your last days with him haunt you.

After spotting his old friends and ex lover in a table at the cafeteria, he start walking towards there. Trying to make his first moves to go back to normality.

“Yeah. He would’ve been seated beside me right now. But he consciously choose the songbird before me. At least he’s refining himself a little bit with Livia” your friends turn to look at you in shock after the revelation, Clemmie only rises her brows as she sips her water silently, hiding her smile. By the time Coriolanus arrives the table, you’re gone and he curses himself for not walking faster. Festus and Lysistrata are shocked, making him furrow his brows in confusion.

“Did I missed something?” He asks.

“You had an affair with your tribute?” Lysistrata asks back in disgust. Coriolanus sees Clemensia giggling in silence with her head down. Probably enjoying his embarrassment.

His silence meets the requirement for an answer. One that they take as yes.

“And now y/n knows about you and Livia” Coriolanus frowns ever deeper after looking at Clemensia.

“There’s no Livia and I” He responds firmly. Even disgusted to her his name along the least smart girl of his finances class.

“Oh but everyone believes so. That you’re courting her…” he rolls his eyes, annoyed.

“I’m just talking to her because we’re partners for some stupid research paper” the silent sipping on their drinks at the same time is ridiculous to Coriolanus. He just stares at them annoyed.

“Do me a favor and leave her alone, Coriolanus. You were gone to go to your nobody girl from 12, but I stayed and saw her struggling in that hospital bed” Clemensia speaks confidently. Making the blonde to feel threatened.

So he realises that maybe you could have feelings for him still. And that this rumors could have weight on you. He curses himself. Even without realizing, he’s still hurting you.

“I won’t lose the girl twice, Clemmie. Have a good day” he says with a fake smile before leaving the table in shock.

He had to quicken the pace of his proximity with you. He had to make you see he never stopped caring for you.

…

There’s a shattering mess of broken glasses. You quickly move away from the crime scene, looking for your pills, immediately swallowing two.

Your mother’s assistant opens the door, asking for you with concern.

“Is everything okay, miss y/n?” You turn to look a the woman.

“I accidentally threw the jar. Sorry…” Millie is in her mid thirties. She was your mother’s confidant, and slowly yours too. She sees the news paper in the floor, half of it drenched from the broken jar that had water. She can see the title, The Snow heir tights the knot with the Cardew family?

“I’ll call the maids. Don’t worry” she says looking back at you.

“Thanks Millie.” She smiles, closing the door behind.

You breathe loudly, sighing in stress. Of course you had purposely thrown the water jar because of the news paper. A portrait picture of Livia is placed perfectly aligned with one of Coriolanus. Between some paragraph there’s your name too. But you don’t dare to see why.

You may pretend to be okay to the public eye, but you’re still drowning in the same feelings you got after Coriolanus Snow revealed his lies to you.

It’s almost like if he was still mocking you. Showing everyone how easy he had played with you. And how easy he got rid of you.

Someone had to pay. No, not someone, he. He, himself, Coriolanus Snow had to fail. Only that way you would feel slightly better. Only that way your tears would stop being for him.

The first chance you had, you would take it.

…

While you loved pursuing a dancing career along the production stuff. You still had some duties regarding politics and economy. Which is why you ended up at the submissions office so early in the morning. To send a petition.

You end up at at a messy office. A man is there, moving folders and other type of papers. There’s three baskets that can clearly be read as; approved, denied, pending.

However, you quickly look away to smile at the man who’s sitting behind the chair.

“Good morning.” Your smile is contagious to everyone. The man replies with a warm greeting.

“Good morning, miss y//l/n. How can I help you?”

“I was wondering if you could hand me a petition form to send” he nods, standing up, leaving the mess of papers behind.

“I can, just let me go and print the form. It won’t take too long…” you smile again, letting him go outside the office.

As you wait, you start seeing the racks of boxes and more boxes filled with yellow and lined papers.

Your curiosity grows, making you look at the baskets on the desk.

You see at first glance some graduation petitions, letters, etc. You are still curious to see why some papers where pending. So you look at the door one last time before diving into the papers. You don’t know the first students mentioned. Until you see the third yellow folder, where you can see a white strip with black letter saying Coriolanus Snow.

You open the folder, seeing what it was all about. A petition to start a political campaign at the age of 19. You frowned. He was good at writing. Even with letters he had some charm. But you know he never beated you to be precise and delicate. You always heard Grandma’am saying he would one day be president. But you never seriously discussed it with him. Now you know it was real. And you can’t help but feel an enormous amount of remorse.

He doesn’t deserve it. He had lost everything once, but the way he was earning everything was through breaking you, and probably others you’ll never knew about. Even when it would make Tigris and Grandma’am happy, you slip the folder into the basket of denied. You don’t feel nothing as you do it.

In fact, you offer the sweet man a smile when he comes back with the form for you. You thank him and then walk out.

…

Coriolanus swears he didn’t intend to bump into your father at the bank. Your father was a frivolous man, but since he knew him, he greeted Coriolanus with respect.

The blonde was taken aback when he invited him to have dinner at your house. And he couldn’t say no.

Your house is the same. At least from the outside, because inside, there’s more color. Coriolanus sees your mother. And she offers him a smile before he leans to give her a kiss on the cheek.

“Coriolanus, look at you. You look very handsome!” His cheeks warm, as your father giggles, handing his coat to a maid.

“I ran into him at the bank. Where’s y/n, dear?” Your mother laughs, rolling her eyes.

“That girl. I haven’t seen her out of her room since midday” the sudden sound of your heels gets noticed.

“I’m here” you say, coming down the stairs, putting some earrings on. Coriolanus notices the grey dress and black heels along the red tights. A diadem on your head and a bright smile that soon dissapears as you spot him in your house.

“Look who I found earlier” you sigh, standing straight.

“I see…” Your parents can see the way you correct your posture, showing how uncomfortable you are.

“We’re having dinner…” you ignore Coriolanus and his deep gaze on you.

“I can’t stay for dinner. I have rehearsals and I promised Clemmie to go to her birthday dinner party” they exchange looks. And Coriolanus is at the verge of smiling at the way you are making up an excuse to leave. Running away from him.

“Are you meeting with Jan before?” Coriolanus head almost pops to look at your father. And you don’t know if you should smile. Jan was your dance partner, he would dance with you at the gala. He was older, very handsome. And you wished he wasn’t off limits from you. Because you easily could admit your attraction towards him.

“Can you at least stay for some drinks?” You shrug at your mother, accepting your purse from a maid. You ignore Coriolanus and his way of looking at you, almost petrified.

His head was spinning, he needed to know who the hell was Jan.

“Unless you want me to do horrible at the Winter Gala, no. I cannot stay, mother” she sighs, tilting her head towards your father. He understands, your father was the one who convinced you to ignore Coriolanus and play with him.

“Well, that’s fine. Just be polite and say goodbye to Coriolanus.” You nod, watching them leave inside the long corridor to enter the dinning table.

You remain quiet, looking down at your purse to avoid his eyes.

“You look lovely” he says, breaking the ice.

“Thank you.”

It’s the first time you two talk since months ago.

“I heard you want to start your political campaign” you opt to pretend you are okay and you can face him with confidence.

“I did. But the idiots of the council rejected my essay. Guess it’ll give me more time to focus on university.” You nod, grabbing a pair of gloves from inside the purse. You want to smile so badly. He would never know you were the reason of his failed first steps in the politic of Panem.

“Anyways… How you’ve been?”

“I’m fine, Coriolanus.” the way you sound tired. Like tired of him makes him uncomfortable. But he tries to keep his best smile too.

“Who is Jan?” He asks almost too seriously. You smile politely at him

“No one of your business, Snow” you calling him by his last name takes him very aback.

“You know, I just hoped that… you know. Maybe we could start off again… like friends of course” you giggle, lowering your head. He frowns confused.

“Miss y/n, Trevor is waiting in the car for you” the butler say appearing from the side door, you thank him and he leaves again.

“I don’t think there’s a way to start again. You already failed me once, Coriolanus.” You admit, putting on the gloves with a bittersweet smile on your face. You turn to pat his cheek, and he swears he’s about to melt. He lounged for your touch since the moment he left you at the hospital. He closes his eyes, hoping to slow down time and felt your cold touch.

But you move away your hand. He opens his eyes and sees you putting the last pair of the gloves on. You walk towards the door.

“You know where the dinning table room is.” And with that, you are gone.

…

Your father gave him the green light to court you again. Coriolanus had to swear that he would never cause you any type of pain, or else, your father would destroy his career before it officially started.

That was more than enough for him. Since that day, slowly, he had been greeting you almost every day, at Univeristy and when you ecountered him and Tigris in a furniture store. You personally invited her to the Winter gala, and Tigris agreed to not share the news about the invitation. But to the young Snow woman, it was a surprise that your father had already invited Coriolanus to the gala.

Soon the day came. As usual the gala opened with the performance of an specific play, than everyone celebrated in the hall with fine dining, and everyone gossiped as auctions happened. It had been a couple of weeks, very busy ones. Probably it was even more important than the arts gala on March. But for this special occasion you had rehearsed a lot to be an elegant black swan.

You smile at your own reflection at the mirror, the black tutu was gorgeous. The crown you had to use was very intriguing. And the black makeup made you feel very confident.

“I came as soon as I could” Clemensia suddenly opens the door of your dressing room. She looks agitated, but she looked amazing on a beige dress and her hair in half ponytail.

“You look very pretty” she thanks you.

“But look at you. You are going to be amazing.” She sits and both start gossiping.

“Your father invited Coriolanus.” It makes you roll your eyes tired. But you are having a heartache.

“I’m… not sure if I don’t feel anything about him” Clemmie leaves her glass of champagne.

“The newspaper rumour affected you. Right?” Slowly, you nod. Too embarrassed to look at her in the eye. But Coriolanus had been really good. He smiled at you at any chance he could. Some days he would join you and your friends and he was fun, you had to bite your tongue to avoid giggling. And Clemensia had seen it too.

“I can’t blame you. I was there since the beginning…” your friend had seen the courting, the first awkward hand holding, how you two formed a strong connection. And Coriolanus left you at the hospital.

“You two had a beautiful bond. And he broke it. But that doesn’t mean you can’t miss him” Clemmie goes to hug you.

“Pa’ said to keep playing with him, to ignore him. But I’m tired, I just want to heal” she nods, letting you hide your face on her shoulder.

“You want my advice?” You nod.

“Do not force anything. Be polite to him, but avoid giving him any chance yet. As you heal, you’ll find the answer; if you should let him have another chance or not”

A man knocks. When Clemensia opens the door, he receives a bouquet of white roses.

You could recognize those roses anywhere. You get closer, taking the attached note.

Grandma’am and Tigris didn’t know what flowers to cut.

Good luck.

You try to hide your smile. But it’s impossible.

…

The whole place is full. Coriolanus takes a seat with Tigris besides.

“I talked with her yesterday. She said she was very nervous about this one” Tigris says. Coriolanus knows she’s talking about you.

“She’s always perfect, she shouldn’t feel nervous.” His mind was only thinking about Jan. He did his research. And learned he was a former dancer of your mother’s institution. It made him mad.

“Have you thought about inviting her to have dinner?” Coriolanus shakes his head.

“Not yet, I haven’t talked enough to her”

“Well, hurry up. Grandma’am wanted to see you married by the age of 20” she says laughing. But it doesn’t make Coriolanus smile.

“Oh look, it’s starting” Tigris squealed with excitement. The curtains lifted and the show started.

For the first twenty minutes, he’s so bored. Nothing exciting happens. He thinks the white swan is boring. And for the first time, he meets Jan. It makes him feel jealous.

It only worsened when you appeared on stage. Your black attire makes him go mad. He had never seen you in anything like that. He gets very invested in your scenes. He feels the emotion you are trying to project. Sassy, cheeky and attractive. You succeed to him.

Unfortunely, Jan had to appear too. And Coriolanus has to sigh, dealing with the scene of the man holding you to make you gracefully spin. The music doesn’t help, it holds the sense of you and Jan dancing together. Coriolanus knows dancing has a lot to do with acting. But he doesn’t enjoy the looks of lust and desire between you and your partner. The worst part? He had to seat and watch it for at least fifteen minutes.

His head malfunctions. But he already is telling Tigris he needs to the restroom.

It’s a lie. He goes to the dressing rooms. And his luck was so big that he found the one with the name of Jan. He slowly made his way inside. The place was so old that he didn’t need to check for security or anything, but he wanted to make sure nobody would see him in real time.

He wasn’t sure what he wanted to accomplish, but surely he wanted to get rid of the man who apparently had your attention now. Your mother had said you and Jan worked very well. And now, with him seeing the performance, he was more than sure he couldn’t let it move forward.

His hand went to his pocket, and his eyes widened. He felt the little glass tubes of narcotics. The same he used to kill Casca Highbottom.

He thought about it just for a little. Was it worth it? Getting rid of a man just to have easier access to you.

Maybe.

Then he questioned how bad he wanted you back. Coriolanus had missed you since day one. He knew he would never love anyone else. He knew no one would treat him as you once did.

So he poured the liquid from one of the tubes inside the water flask resting on the vanity. And before leaving, Coriolanus slipped two more tubes inside the bag that contained Jan’s clothes.

“You took very long at the restroom” Tigris tells her cousin when he came back.

“There was a long line”

…

This time, is different. You smile and you can hear the big round of applauses as you make reverence to go off from stage. You were the last one and the curtains came down finally.

Once you are free, you have all the time in the world to breathe. Other dancers and production staff members congratulate you. But it’s Coriolanus Snow the one who makes you frown confused. He was backstage, looking at you with a soft smile. His classic black suit makes you go back and remember about the Reaping ceremony. How happy that day initiated, and how bad it turned out.

“Coriolanus.” You greet him, he can see a tiny smile on your face.

“You were amazing. As usual, of course”

“Thank you. And for the flowers, they were gorgeous. As usual, of course” he’s so surprised that you were talking to him with some humor sense. Both of you laugh and it feels… warm, and natural.

“It’s nothing. But.. perhaps we could just sit together at dinner?” Your cheeks warmth. You think about your confusing feelings, what your father and Clemensia respectively said. Sitting with him once wouldn’t be the end of the world.

“Yeah, we could.” He smiles, and even when his hair changed, his deeper voice. For some seconds you can see the boy you once loved.

And he almost feels like he was seventeen again. Watching you dance backstage, ready to greet you with a kiss. He sees the girl who helped him so much. And he just know all the horrible things he’d done were worth it.

“I-…” but his words stay lingering in the air. Both of you hear a female scream. Coriolanus and you exchange looks before starting to walk where the sound was heard. In the corridor of the dressing rooms you see a woman lingering to an open door. Immediately you recognize it’s Jan’s room. You quickly make it there, through the pain of your caged foot inside the pointe shoe. Coriolanus goes behind you, already sensing the scene inside.

He hears you gasp in shock, covering your mouth and tears forming on your eyes.

You are in shock, you sob, unable to blink.

Jan is on the floor, pale and blood on his mouth. He’s dead.

And as much as the scene shocks you, you are trained to entertain the Capitol, so you turn to them random woman.

“Go and find Millie. Tell her about this and do keep your mouth shut. Nobody can know beside my parents. Understood?” You indicate the woman with a broken voice. She nods in horror dissapearing through the corridor. When she leaves you can finally cry.

When you don’t know what else to do, you are holding onto Coriolanus Snow. You find comfort on his chest. And he immediately holds you back.

As much as you hate to admit it, you feel you are home in his arms.

With one hand, he closes the door of the dressing room and returns to completely be there to hug you. He smiles, knowing he’s already slowly winning.

Because when your parents find out what happened, they make you put a cute black and green velvet gown with crystals. They make you pretend nothing happened and you sit with Coriolanus and Tigris. Ignoring the upcoming rumors, and certainly not respecting the sudden death of Jan.

…

Two days later, Coriolanus finds you seating on a bench. You are eating a sandwich, looking lost. He takes a seat beside you.

“I’m sorry about Jan. It happened so suddenly” he doesn’t feel sorry. Opposite of what he felt about Sejanus and Lucy Gray. However, he firmly believes it was the only way.

“He was a wonderful man. A devoted dancer, with principales. He had a wife in District 3.” Coriolanus coughs. He wasn’t expecting that. That little detail wasn’t on his research. Something twisted inside him, but he still didn’t regret or felt sorry.

“He didn’t seem the type to use narcotics…he must’ve been very stressed out” you add. Oblivious that you are talking with Jan’s murderer.

“Are you sure you are okay?” You roll your eyes sighing.

“No. I’m not okay, Coriolanus. Not since that cursed Reaping ceremony day”

“I’m just trying to be here for you” he admits, and it’s your breaking point.

“WHY DO YOU CARE NOW? YOU FAILED ME WHEN I MOST NEEDED YOU!” He looks around to see if anyone was around. But the place is empty.

“I know I committed many errors but-“

“BUT NOTHING, CORIOLANUS.” You spit out with such anger, that makes him frown.

“You violated the trust, loyalty, respect and love we had for each other. You dissapear after making me have a damn breakdown. Only to go after that girl. And now you appear trying to mend things?” You won’t tell him about his denied petition and what you did. You just want to share all you couldn’t before at his face.

“Do you know how many doctor appointments I’ve had since you left?” He looks down.

“Twelve. And I have to swallow four different pills every day. Only to stay sane. And who’s fault it is? The hunger games, the galas, dancing, Lucy Gray Baird. But specially, you” when he looks up at you again, you are crying.

“If you really want to be here for me, you need to stay away and leave me alone.” You finall state, looking at his blue eyes one last time, before standing from the bench and walking away.

That wasn’t your day. Neither the following ones. Your pointe shoes died and your size was out of stock. The food took such a long time. Your parents left to have an audience in District 1 and your evening was to listen to music and cry.

But certainly what broke you once again was a phone call.

“Hello?” You answer.

“Y/n?”

“Tigris?” You ask. Her voice sounding worried.

“Yes, it’s me.”

“Is everything okay? You sound alarmed, dear” you are able to hear her sighing.

“It’s Grandma’am. She’s sick. Coriolanus is busy at the Univeristy and the doctor I requested hasn’t appeared” your heart beats faster.

“She has a strong fever and it’s been like that for hours.” She adds, finally sounding more worried.

“Tigris, calm down. I’ll call my cousin, he’s one of the most prepared doctors around. I’m going there with you in the meantime” you reassure her, already taking off your nightgown and taking out a dress and coat from your closet.

“Thank you, y/n. I truly appreciate this, thank you.” You hang up after saying everything was going to be okay.

…

You see how changed is the penthouse. Fully renovated, with bright lights that contrasted the dark blue wallpapers. But you find interesting how the olive paint you brought is still there. And your portrait from the day of your eighteen birthday is still with the family pictures.

You wait outside the room of the elder woman, as your cousin is checking Grandma’am. You have to hold the urge from biting your nails. A maid offers you posca, but you can’t think about drinking at the time.

The front doors opens and seconds later, Coriolanus is there. He seems surprised to see you there. Since the day of your argument, he hadn’t see you. He tried calling you but your butler said you were out for the weekend to your grandparents house.

“Y/n?” He asks, dropping his coat on a chair.

“Tigris called me. She wanted a doctor for your grandmother” he worried a bit.

“Is she not feeling better. When I left she seemed better…” he says hurrying to go to her room, but you stop him, grabbing by his forearm.

“Don’t. My cousin is already there with her. I’m waiting for the results” Coriolanus only stares at you. He wants to smile. You came only to help his family once again.

“You look very lovely” you smirk, looking at his window with your arms crossed.

“Really? Your grandmother is sick and you are here saying how lovely I look today?” He smiles.

“You told me to wait. What else can I do?”

“How cynical of you” you respond coldly. After all you told him, he was acting like it never happened.

The door of the room opened and Tigris came out with your cousin.

He revealed Grandma’am was having a little difficulties in her lungs, which made her prone to catch a flu. He gave her some strong medicines and promised it would be fine with some days of resting.

After some minutes, you are also ready to leave.

You say good night to the Snow cousins and leave.

“Y/n. Wait…” Tigris comes out. Stopping you some feet away of the now working elevator.

“I-… Thank you.” She slowly says hugging you.

“It’s nothing, Tigris. I told Coriolanus once I would always help the people I love” Tigris suddenly feels so sad to hear you say that. She really hoped you and her little cousin had a different ending.

“He still loves you so much.” You fight harder against the tears when she says that.

“I know. And I still love him too. But… he never apologized. And I’m not ready to let go my resentment towards him.” You admit looking away.

“Although things did’t work out for you and Coriolanus, I really appreciate and care for you, y/n” se almost whispers in your ear. And your eyes water.

“I feel the same, Tigris. I really do” you reply slowly, controlling your voice to not sound cracked.

“I’ll come back in some days” she nods.

She lets you go and you finally head out. Not noticing that Coriolanus heard everything.

He never apologized.

That night, you are reading on the living room when your butler walks in.

“Coriolanus Snow is asking for you in the telephone” you thank him, walking bare feet towards the kitchen telephone.

“Yes, Mr. Snow?” You ask.

“I just wanted to thank you for coming today. You didn’t have to and yet you appeared here” you sigh.

“Whatever that happened between us has nothing to do with my relationship with Tigris and your mother” now he sighs, from his office, in complete darkness.

“About that y/n…” your hands go numb, and panic floods you.

“You don’t know how much I’m-“

“I know.” You interrupt him, cracked voice and you hang up.

“Sorry” he says through the dead line.

That night, you read his letters. The ones he sent when he was a peacekeeper at the 12. Where he seemed to have projected his more vulnerable and emotional side of his heart. Maybe he had been drunk, maybe Lucy Gray wrote them for him. You’d never know, and you preferred to ignore the idea of him actually feeling sorry.

…

A week later you’re applauding for Grandma’am as she sings for you. You smile, changing her pillow case and complementing how much of a sweet voice she had.

It’s getting late, and you must return to your house.

After wishing Grandma’am sweet dreams, you carefully close her door and you walk with the old pillow case away.

“Are you staying for dinner?” Tigris asks with a sweet smile, taking the pillow case from you. Coriolanus is seated, drinking something as he carefully looks at you. You ignore him.

“I must decline, dear. I have to go back and pack some things” she frowns, stopping to put some plates on the dinning table.

“Pack?”

“Yes. I think I’ll spend the holidays at District 1. My mother is opening a new studio and she’s going to need help. And well, if everything goes right, I might even stay there” Tigris almost drops the pillow case. And Coriolanus almost chokes on his drink.

“What? Why?. What about university? The galas? Your production job for the hunger games” you shrug with an honest smile.

“Lately the Capitol life has... it has been a burden. I want to live a peaceful life. I want to heal” Tigris sends daggers with her eyes to Coriolanus. He coughs, uncomfortable.

“CORIOLANUS!” Grandma’am calls the man, you only sigh. And slowly, he stands up to to the woman. He hears you keep talking with Tigris. And he wants to do something to stop you from leaving. Now he can give you the life he couldn’t before.

“Is everything alright, Grandma’am?” The elder woman looks at him from her bed.

“Are you really letting that young woman to walk away again?” Coriolanus frowns.

“What?”

“You’ve heard me.” Even in her sick days, she was firm.

“She doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore” Grandma’am shrugs.

“I don’t think so. Her eyes shine sadly at every mention of you. She was part of the family after all.” Coriolanus remains quiet. But he admits to himself that’s what he missed the most.

“I think she always waited for an apology. One that never came.” His heart pounds very fast. He tried, and you hung up.

“What do you suggest me to do?” Grandma’am smiles, coughing tiredly.

“You run to wherever she goes and beg on your knees. One time you show her vulnerability and you’ll never do it again. We, women, only want real love, stupid love. You show her that stupid love once and you can silently do it for the rest of your again”

“You already won the money and respect. You’re just missing out the girl” Coriolanus sweats, but when he turns to look at her grandmother again, she nods, reassuring him.

“Go. Get her back, Coriolanus” without saying anything back, he leaves.

When he enters the dinning room, he only sees two plates of food. He looks at Tigris confused.

“Where’s y/n?” She shrugs, taking a seat.

“She just left.”

Coriolanus runs. He actually runs out of his penthouse and when the elevator starts taking to much time, he decided to choose the stairs as his getaway. He feels sweaty and agitated, but as he goes down, he can’t help but feel slightly happy, the adrenaline of making it on time make him hurry.

“Y/N!” He yells your name once he makes it to the lobby, where he can see you turning back to see him.

You are waiting for Trevor when he appears running towards you.

And before you can even blink or breathe, he gets on his knees.

“Coriolanus Snow. What are you doing?” You ask confused and blushed.

“I’m sorry.” He says.

“I’m sorry about all the stupid things I did. I’m sorry about letting you down. I’m sorry for ruining our relationship. For letting you in that hospital bed and return to do everyhting but apologize to you” you look at him perplexed, not believing his words.

“I can’t lose you again. Because I know you’re the last and only person I’ll love. I won’t trust anyone else. And nobody would have ever looked down at me like you did when I had nothing” you sigh, feeling the tears coming again. You know he’s not lying. You knew him so well that you sense it.

“If you let me. To give me another chance, I’ll do things right. I will never fail you again in life. You’ll be the only person I’ll cherish and show love.” He offers you his hand, and he looks very suppliant.

You blink quickly to soothe the tears. And you know he doesnt deserve you. But aren’t the best person, so maybe you two were actually meant to be together.and that’s the only viable reason to why you want to let your heart freely beat for him again.

“Please don’t go, y/n” he whispers, waiting for your answer. You sigh, slowly and shaking, but you end up taking his hand.

“You’ll better be the most perfect lover of the history of Panem, then” he wraps your fingers together, and stands up.

“I promise, I swear” he knows the memory of Lucy Gray would always follow him. As well of all the deaths he had caused. But nothing compared to the joy of him kissing you again.

Your lips welcome him in the most sweet way. And he finds himself smiling through the kiss, gently holding you closer to him.

It’s in the start of the Road of Hope in the Capitol where Coriolanus Snow had his fully owned penthouse. Where he had nothing, and now had won everything.

…

Time flies, things had changed, probably for the better. You made Coriolanus keep fighting for a good and healthy relationship. Slowly, he made you completely fall in love again. And although there was certain spark missing, you knew it would never come back. However, you had also accepted that both of you had grown up.

The late talks were mature now. Talking about the future of Panem, planning dinners together. The kisses were more passionate, unlike the softness that was all over your early relationship. The sex was harder rather than slow and sweet like the beginning. Coriolanus would like to leave many hickeys scattered across your body, make a wet mess of saliva and fluids. He loved feelings your almond nails leave gentle scratches across his pale back.

But certainly, the biggest change was the way you two were handling a life together.

After turning twenty, you got married. Soon Coriolanus bought the house he always wished to give you. The one with black and white tiles floor, beige walls and big stairs.

By the first week in, he had done many refurbishments and he had fucked you in every room, every corner and every surface of the house.

Till the day you turned twenty-two. By that time, you had almost ditched your dancing career. Sometimes you still had some chances to perform on galas. But Coriolanus convinced you to focus on public services and the production of the hunger games. Dr. Gaul had officially retired, and it was going to be the first year of Coriolanus as a game maker. Things had really changed.

But everything seemed fine.

“Dear, Are you ready?” You turn to look at your husband, who waits on the frame of the door.

“Just one moment” you run to slip into your silver heels before grabbing your purse.

Trevor kept his job as your chauffeur and Millie was now your private secretary. Sometimes you hated how formal your life had become. Especially now that Coriolanus had some plans in mind.

As soon as you arrive to the fancy patio from a million-dollar man house, many women eye you and Coriolanus.

“Remind me what are we doing here?” You ask him. He holds your hand tightly, smiling at many of the invited people.

“I’m assuming the role of game maker. You are giving a speech about the improvements for the 14th Hunger Games, my dear” you nod, clutching onto his cold hand harder. Both of you were kind of the sensation around the Capitol. You know how they whisper about your dress and your husband’s physic.

“You’re going to be fine. You always choose the right words. And your voice can charm anyone here” he whispers on your ear, pressing a soft kiss on your temple.

“Thank goddess I’ve been studying the constitution. Or else these men would bury me” Coriolanus laughs. Soon you enter the actual event. With long white tables, candles and everyone dressed either on red or black.

“Men around here don’t know how smart my wife is” he says shrugging, remembering how many honors you received from university. Some of the wives ask you to join them. You wave hello to them before leaning to your man.

“Do not make me jealous or leave me alone during the speech.” You firmly say to him.

“Of course not, my love”

“Love you.” And with one last kiss, you walk away.

For the rest of the night. You feel uneasy. Because you succeeded with the speech. But once you read the part from Coriolanus, you are at the verge of babbling.

He shared some of his initial proposals for the games. Like lowering the age of the tributes, increasing the obstacles in the arena, using more mutts, allowing weapons, and making the interviews with Lucky Flickerman longer.

It had been a long time since you think about the games so much. But that guilt you felt after seeing Coriolanus as mentor, never left. And after that dinner, everyone claps for your husband and you, after being considered as the couple of the next generation for Panem.

In the privacy of your new home, you constantly zone out to think about it. You can’t ask Coriolanus to stop the games, but he could make some changes.

You knock swiftly on his door.

“Come in.” You walk in and he drops the papers he was signing to smile at the sight of you.

“Hello, you.” he says cheekily.

“Hello, you’.” You reply. He indicates you to seat on his lap and you do so. His arms lock around you, hands resting on your back.

“Are you coming to bed anytime soon?” You ask.

“I just need to sign some things, darling” he watches you frown, and he won’t say you look older, because you don’t. But you certainly look wiser, mature and more like a woman rather than a girl.

“I’ve been thinking about the games” He’s all ears now. He knows you had some specific opinions. You had said in your first interview how brutal the games were.

“What about them?”

“I would never ask you to stop the games. But…” you stop, suddenly feeling a little nervous.

“But what, my dear?”

“Don’t you think those tributes are humans? Yes, the Districts deserve to be reminded of the consequences of their acts. But most of the tributes are kids. Who don’t even understand everything that conveys a war.” Coriolanus sighs, trying to choose the correct words to answer you.

“What are you suggesting?” He tries to sound calm, but the mere subject makes him a little irritated.

“I don’t know… Maybe giving them more opportunities?” He giggles, caressing the skin on your hips.

“Giving them opportunities means going soft on them. And going soft on them could trigger a new rebellion” this time you sigh, trying to persuade him by brushing his hair, softly grasping his chin.

“Not like that, Coryo. I mean… raising the majority age of the tributes. Giving them at least the chance to train. To eat a proper meal on the last night. To show who they are one last time before they’re sent to die” Coriolanus would always believe that you’re only one weakness was your humanity. How you always turned to see down on others, feeling guilty from being born with all the commodities.

So, he tries to ignore it. He tries to see your suggestions as a way to punish the tributes harder. Give them everything to then killing them.

So, he smiles, urging you to kiss him. You reply immediately, holding him closer to feel the heated proximity.

“I could arrange some changes. Would that make you feel better?” You nod on his lips, smiling.

“Now let me finish this before meeting you in bed. And I expect you have this thing off before I get there” he says grabbing your nightgown. You laugh with a potent blush, gently pushing him away.

“Don’t be silly.”

“I’m not being silly. In two days, we start the tour, we will be very tired to make love daily as we do now” you roll your eyes, almost running away ad your husband laughs, making fun of your embarrassment.

“This is madness. I’m going to bed” you say getting out of his office.

“Don’t forget about what I said!” He yells, making you smile in love as you leave upstairs, wishing good night to the maids and butler. For the record, you do not forget about your husband’s petition.

…

The best part of the house is the rooftop in your opinion. A terrace with cristal walls and ceilings that had a gorgeous view of the Capitol. A view that included some monuments and the snowy mountains surrounding the city.

You had a little bar there, an eccentric dining table and some couches with colorful cushions.

Grandma’am made you take some of his roses so you could start your own garden. That brought tears to your eyes. But now, it was only you and Tigris there.

You asked the chef to make some vegetables and creams as your sister-in-law arrived for dinner. Coriolanus and you were set to leave the next morning for his political campaign tour.

“Have you packed everything?” Tigris asks.

“Yes. I wish I could take Trevor with me. But only Millie will be able to come” you say smiling. Tigris notices how you constantly look at the door, hoping to see Coriolanus entering.

“Have you told him?” You shake your head at the woman.

“Not yet. Probably by the time we arrive District 4. We have good memories from there” Tigris smiles. She was really excited when you got back together with Coriolanus. She even made your wedding dress. And now she was so proud of the career you two were making.

“Sorry for the delay. I was arguing with some incompetent who cancelled the delivery of our new chandeliers” Tigris rolls her eyes as your husband cheekily smiles.

“Dinner isn’t ready yet, anyways” you say patting his back as he takes a seat beside you.

“You shouldn’t be stressing over the tour. Your dear wife must’ve prepared the most wonderful speeches for you to say” Coriolanus smiles, turning to give you a peck on the nose, making you laugh.

“It’s not that, Tigris. It’s the time that’s freaking me out. I don’t want to be gone for almost two months.” You sigh, trying to keep everything together. You just pray that the tour goes smoothly.

“Each district will host you with all commodities” it’s a lie. Coriolanus isn’t ready to go to District 12 again. Where his father died, where he committed the worst decisions of his early life. He knows those days will be a little sour. But he’s willing to play pretend very well for you.

“It’s going to be fine. Pardon me, dear” Coriolanus says after seeing your face of over thinking. His wife is so smart that she’s probably wondering the same as him. And that’s the least he needs of.

You take his hand, before hearing the food has arrived. The air changes, the dinner flows happily as you talk and gossip with Tigris and your husband. It’s a great dinner actually.

Maybe he broke your heart when you were teenagers. But you delayed his political campaign for four years. Maybe he had looked too much at Lucy Gray Baird, but at the end it would only be you.

You could’ve done better to get rid of that guilt for participating in the hunger games, but you just realize that maybe you didn’t because you are not a good person either.

Even so, every morning, you wake up in his arms as he fulfilled his promise of never failing you again.

You just hope that the tour, the upcoming games and everything else doesn’t get into your way. Nothing can be a bother. Not when Coriolanus Snow’s first child rests peacefully in your womb.

The future was uncertain. But your past and present along him always seemed like… a hatred road.

_____________________________________________

fyi, in my head, if reader hadn’t delayed Coriolanus political emergence, the second rebellion would’ve started earlier and probably it wouldn’t have been successful. (Basically it would’ve been like a second time “dark days” situation and then back to reconstruction again)

Taglist: @dear-bunnyboo @daydreamerprocrastinator @lecrercsgirlshhs @athanasia-day @devils-blackrose @reader-bookling123 @cookielovesbook-akie @justacaliforniandreamer @m1ndbrand @blairfox04 @darktrashsoulbear @fartybobabutt @diannana @iwantosleep @sarysuniverse @unclecrunkle @f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63 @didneyworld13 @imguce @angelscrime @impeterporker @lem122 @cryaka @ietss @michelleisheres-blog @capsiclesworldsblog @circe143

#coriolanus snow x reader #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #corio snow #coriolanus snow #tbosas

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heavqn · 9 months

Note

Coriolanus as the peacekeeper, being completely mentally unbalanced, possessive and controlling, while he fucks the reader who is totally naive and can't refuse since Coriolanus is basically keeping her alive and feeding her, it all happens in the cabin. and they are almost discovered by her friend Lucy Gray.

It can include size difference perversion, Coriolanus has a hyper fixation with how shy and naive the reader can be, manipulation, doubtful consent.

Can you add any plot? I'm not a fan of angst though. If you take it, I THANK YOU.

i loved this request!! i kind of went totally overboard and i don't think i stuck to your request quite well but i hope you still enjoy it 😭

cw; fingering, sort of controling? coriolanus, allusion to piv but there isn't any. usage of yn like three times. i think that's all. not my finest writing, apologies </33

Being in District 12 was no party. It was as miserable as life got, until she met Lucy Gray of course. Lucy Gray had taken her under her wing, no doubt becoming like a sister to her. She taught [ y/n ] her favorite songs, her favorite stories and even let her have some of her pretty dresses.

She was basically part of the covey though she had known her for such a short amount of time. When Lucy Gray was reaped, she felt like she was too. A part of her went into that arena with Lucy Gray and she was frightened everyday until she came back unscathed.

With Lucy Gray’s infamous return to the District came plenty of singing and dancing back in the Hob. It wasn’t until Lucy Gray was a bit way into her song when she noticed a familiar pale, blonde-haired boy watching her. Though the realization of who he was had been cut short by Billy Taupe and his drunken-state, she was both shocked and excited to know he was there.

The next day, she saw him yet again. Maude Ivory had made way to them though and she had to leave. But it didn’t stop her from inviting him to the lake, promising him only the covey knew of its existence.

On the way to the lake, Coriolanus had made his acquaintance with a few others from the covey. One in particular stuck in his mind though; [ y/n ]. She had a quiet tone and was a bit clueless to jokes that others made. He noticed how she stayed close to Lucy Gray, whispering to her and then looking at him.

And if the shyness and naivety hadn’t got him, seeing her come up from under the water definitely did. Her hair clung to her back and the make-shift bikini she wore did little to cover her boobs as he saw her nipples poking from under the fabric.

He was fascinated by her. She was dumb, to say the least. Usually such things would turn him off and make him go the other way, but he reveled in the way she clung to his every word once the two had become close.

They often spent time together at the lake; his idea. This particular day, he had convinced her to go skinny-dipping. “What if someone sees us?” She had questioned, voice quiet as if anybody was around to hear her. Only the covey and him knew about the lake; she knew this, he knew this. The possibility of anyone coming out this late wasn’t likely.

Though he had to admit that the thought did cross his mind as well. So he prompted her with another idea, “We could go to the cabin instead.” His intentions would’ve been clear as day to anybody else, but she was entirely lost. “What are we gonna do in there? It’s boring.” She pouted.

Most nights at the lake were spent listening to him talking as you nodded along, pretending to understand what he spoke of. So when you made your way inside the cabin and got comfortable on the rickety bed, Coriolanus started to speak about his home.

“I can’t even imagine what the Capitol is like.” She told him in response to his question of if she’d come home with him. “It’s amazing. Organized, powerful. Nothing like the districts. I think you’d fit right in.” His words had her shaking her head.

“I couldn’t leave twelve. My family is here; Lucy Gray is here.” He rolled his eyes. “You’d be with me. I’d buy you the finest things the Capitol has to offer.” The thought of leaving the covey left a bad taste in her mouth, but the promise of pretty things had her looking up at him with curiosity.

“What kind of things?” She questioned. He smiled, knowing he had piqued her interest. It was too easy sometimes. “Clothes, jewelry, makeup. Anything you can dream of.” His hand had made its way to her arm, caressing it as he watched the way her eyes lit up from his words. “Even flowers?” He let out a soft laugh, “Even flowers.”

She fell into him, back meeting his chest as his arms wrapped around her waist. “You know what else the Capitol has?” His fingers went under your shirt, dragging across the skin of her abdomen. She felt that tingling sensation she often got when she was with him.

While they talked a lot when together, she’d also had sex with Coriolanus a lot. It wasn’t a hard thing to convince her into. Her first time was in the lake; it wasn’t comfortable or convenient, but he was a desperate man. She had just talked about how she was a virgin and he was immediately interested in taking that title away from her. So it was no surprise when the next time they met up, he had her under him once again and every time after that.

He told her that she owed it to him. He was protecting her; would she rather it be him or some pervert from the district? He knew what he was doing and he gave it how she liked it. He guaranteed that none of these boys could even dream of doing it like him and she agreed. He was unfairly good at it and knew what had her cumming in no time so who was she to deny it?

She was dragged out of her thoughts as his hand went further under her top, moving to grasp her boobs. She let out a shaky sigh at the feeling, listening to him speak. “I asked you a question.” He reminded her; his voice deep and firm in her ear as he his hands continued venturing her body.

“What else?” She responded, not necessarily caring for anything else at this moment besides being held close to him. “Lingerie. You know what that is?” He questioned her, and the way her face screwed up let on that she didn’t have a clue as to what he had said. “I don’t know what that is.” She admitted softly, feeling embarrassed he had once again caught her in a stump.

“It’s a type of clothing women wear. Nice and lacey; Bet you’d look real good in it.” He spoke to her in that same deep voice he always did, but it felt heavier this time. He was building her up just so he could break her. “What do you think?” He shifted the conversation back to her, knowing she’d get riled up.

“I think–I think it’d be nice to try it on. Is it like a dress?” She asked curiously, not quite envisioning what this lingerie was that he spoke of. He laughed at her question, taking his time to trail his hands down the length of her skirt. “No, no. It’s like an undergarment; Ladies wear it for men.” He tried to explain, feeling her body melt into him as his fingers went to push her skirt up, giving him access to the place he wanted.

Her eyebrows were furrowed in confusion, again. “So it’s like fancy underwear?” Hearing the word underwear only brought more of her innocence to his attention. “Exactly. Now you’re getting it.” He praised, fingers trailing on the inside of her thighs, inching closer and closer to where she needed him.

“What makes it different from regular underwear?” She was curious now. Ladies wear it for men? Ladies always wear underwear, she thought. He smiled at how interested she was in this topic, but it was clear she was struggling with her words in the way her breath hitched and how she melted impossibly closer to him, when he finally got to the cotton of her panties.

“Well, you don’t wear it everyday. It’s for special occasions; For times between a man and his woman.” He told her, finger playing with the hem of her panties, teasingly snapping it back and into her skin. “Like–Like us, Coryo?” Her voice was but a whisper when she shyly asked the question.

He reveled in the way his pants tightened at how innocent and naive she was. It made it impossible to hold back the way he smiled into her neck, placing open mouthed kisses over her skin. “Just like us, bunny.” He whispered in her ear, finger finally slipping under her panties and going to feel how wet she was.

“Got you all hot and bothered just from a simple conversation. We haven’t even kissed and you’re already soaked.” He teased her, fingers coming out from her panties to show her just how wet she was. “‘m sorry.” She squeaked out, feeling embarrassed at his words and seeing his fingers covered in her juices did nothing to help that feeling.

He swore he could’ve cum right then and there. The way her body tensed up at his words, and the way she became beat red when she saw his fingers; he was ruined. He wanted nothing more than to be inside her, watching as she squirmed to take him; she would be so thankful for it, a mix of “please” and “thank you” ‘s no doubt on her lips with every thrust.

She was obedient; sometimes too obedient. He just craved one time when she would slip up, so he could punish her. But he knew she never would. She listened to his every word, and she’d be damned if she upset her Coryo.

He squeezed her hips, telling her she had nothing to apologize for. “It’s a natural thing. Nothing to be ashamed of.” He told her, the words like honey as they slipped out of his mouth. “Just don’t be getting this way for anyone else. Promise?” He all but commanded her, quickly discarding her panties before placing her right back in front of him; back to chest. “I promise, Coryo. Only you.” She was quick to agree with him; it’s all she’s good for. Simply a parrot of his words, aiming only to agree and copy everything he said.

He didn’t give her anything else but the feeling of his fingers rubbing her clit as a response. The lack of warning had her surprised at the touch, shocked for a second. But he used his other hand to hold her back against him, keeping her still and pliant. “Don’t move, bunny.” He scolded her, continuing his assault on her delicate bud.

It was hard to not move, but she persevered. Keeping her composure against him as she let moans and whimpers slip through her lips. “Coryo,” She called out his name, looking up at him with her soft eyes, silently begging him for more.

“Need something?” He questioned, a smirk evident on his lips from how still so she was yet her mouth moved so much. He knew what she wanted, he just wanted to hear it from her. She spoke softly, the words not quite hitting his ears, but he heard her. Though he chose to tease her once again. “What was that, bunny? Gonna have to speak up.” His fingers ghosted over her entrance, feeling the way her legs so easily fell wider, giving him more room.

“Need your fingers. Inside me, please.” She pleaded again, a little bit louder than before but no doubt quiet compared to the sound of her heavy breathing. “Why didn’t you just ask?” He smiled sickly at her, leaning down to kiss her as one of his fingers slipped inside her.

The moan she let out had his tongue easily slipping into her mouth, mixing their saliva together as their tongues glided over one another. He made quick work of putting another finger in her, curling them as they went in and out of her. The squelching sound of it all made her cringe on the inside, but the pleasure he was giving her was more interesting to act on. It was all too much; she broke away from the kiss, forehead still against his.

“Thank you, thank you.” She fed him her appreciation, knowing it was exactly what he wanted. She didn’t mind giving it to him either. She was thankful he chose her, thankful she was the one who had his fingers inside her. “Such good manners, bunny.” He responded, feeling her hand trail onto his head, grasping at practically nothing as his buzzcut allowed him little hair.

He put yet another finger in, picking up his pace altogether whilst his other hand moved to rub her clit. The feeling of him on her skin, everywhere, had her on fire. She was going to burst into flames. She almost did–Until a sudden rapping was heard at the door.

“[ y/n ]? Are you in there?” The voice called for her, now recognizable as Lucy Gray’s. She stayed silent, not wanting to rat herself out, but when Coriolanus whispered into her ear, telling her to respond, she had no choice but to.

His fingers didn’t let up, and now he was kissing at her neck, interested in what she was going to do. He didn’t quite care about being caught; she was the one naked with his fingers deep inside her. “Yes, I’m–I’m in here!” She called back, unsure of what else to say?

“You okay honey? You sound awfully out of breath.” Lucy Gray voiced her concern, worry laced in her words as she moved to turn the door knob. “Yes! Yes, I’m okay. Please don’t come in.” She yelled back shakily; she was getting closer to the edge and if Lucy Gray came in, then it would all go away.

“Are you sure?” She questioned, wanting a final answer before she left the girl alone. “I’m s-sure, Lucy Gray. Nothing to worry ab-about.” She tried to assure her, hoping her words did what she wanted. It was getting hard to breathe with how quick and tentative Corriolanus’ touches were, nonetheless talk.

“Okay. I’ll leave you alone now.” Lucy Gray spoke to her. Whether Lucy Gray was still standing at that door or not, she couldn’t keep quiet now. His fingers curled right where she wanted, and his other hand was not letting up its assault on her clit.

“Coryo, Coryo.” His name fell out of her lips easily, arching into him, legs growing shaky at the feeling she was having. “Talking to your friend like that as if my fingers aren’t inside you right now. Such a dirty little girl.” He chastised her, but his words held no real malice.

It wasn’t long before she met her release, cumming on his fingers. Even then he didn’t stop, continuing to drag out her high. “‘nough. Can’t take more, Coryo.” She told him, shakily pushing his hands away from her. He all but laughed, doing as she asked.

“Can’t even take me inside you, bunny?” His voice was teasing. But the second she heard those words, she was up at his disposal. Ready for anything he gave her.

#i am NOT proofreading this #sorry #coriolanus snow #tbosas #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coryo snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x female!reader #coriolanus snow smut #coryo<3

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runningfrom2am · 9 months

Text

leveling the playing field XVI

summary: you can finally go home.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.4k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do.). implications and mentions of abuse and some non-graphic violence, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there. oh, and manipulation.

a/n: i can't believe this is it :') the final part (excluding the epilogue which is coming v soon). thank you all so so so much for all the love on this fic! it means so much to me that you guys enjoyed it! but don't get too sad (like me) bc i am not ready to let them go so i'll probably do like blurbs and stuff ab this series so stick around for those!

series masterlist // playlist

"Y/N/N. Do you have your clothes from home?" Coryo asks, pulling the boat back up onto the shore. The guns were gone. He's free to go home if he wants.

"Yes." You nod. "I couldn't get rid of them if I wanted." You chuckle, looking up into the woods behind the cabin, hoping Sejanus is long gone by now.

"Okay. You're gonna stay here, just for a few days, and then I'll come get you before the train leaves. I'll take you to Two with me, just wear those. You'll fit in better."

"Okay..." You nod, nervous about being out here all alone for so long.

"I'll come bring you food as much as I can." He knew it would be a long hike each way to come see you, but he would have to carve out the time. He looks up at you quickly from digging through his own bag when he hears you sniffle. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"I- uhm..." You clear your throat, fanning your eyes to keep any tears from falling. "I'm just scared." You try and laugh it off, shaking your head slightly.

"Don't be scared." Coryo shakes his head, dropping the bag to grab your shoulders. "Hey, you're gonna be okay, Darling, but we don't have another choice. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"I know, I know that..." You sniff, looking up at him. "Is she dead?"

"Yes." He answers quickly. "I buried her. She can't hurt you." He promises. Was that true? No, definitely not. There was no trace of her after the shot besides her earring on the ground, but he had hit her. He was sure of it. There was no reason to tell you that, though, just to scare you more. You couldn't go back to town, there was nowhere for you to hide while peacekeepers searched every inch of the populated part of the District for days while he waited for his train.

"Okay." You whisper, taking a deep, shakey breath as you look around at the suddenly scary forested area around you. The rain had started to clear up, which helped with the sun peeking through the clouds to brighten up the lake. If Lucy Gray hadn't ruined everything, you would probably be getting ready to keep moving.

"Just, try to relax out here. Okay? Go for a swim, just enjoy the fresh air." He smiles softly, brushing some hair back out of your face as he tries to make you feel better.

"I've had enough of the woods for the rest of my life." You scoff, shaking your head under his hold.

"I know, Y/N/N, I'm sorry. It's only a few days. Like I said, I'll come back for you whenever I'm free." Even if he could only stay for five minutes before he had to turn around and make the trip back to town, he would do it. "Then we'll figure everything out. I'll handle it."

"I... I just want to go home, but I can't." You cry, letting him wipe your tears as your chest flushes with the emotion.

Coryo winces at your tears. He hates seeing you cry, and he has seen it far more times than he would have liked to in the last few months. "I'm going to figure it out. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you ever again. I promise." He says softly, trying to get you to look at him.

You lean into his palm, closing your eyes as you try desperately to pull it together. You were exhausted, but this was the last thing Coryo needed right now. "I'm sorry. I'm just having a moment."

"I know. You're okay." He chuckles, planting a kiss on your forehead and pulling you into a hug, rocking your body gently back and forth. "You know, I think the last time you said that to me was the day I realized I was in love with you." He hums, squeezing your shoulders gently.

You laugh, which makes him smile. It's what he wanted. "I feel like that's a bit dramatic."

"No, it's true." He grins, craning his neck to look down at you. "You defended me, and you listened to me, and you looked just so pretty doing it..."

You bury your face in his shirt to hide your blush.

"You're always on my team, and I appreciate that. I really do." He explains, satisfied that he's made you feel at least a little better. "I hope you know I'm always on your side, too."

You nod slightly, smiling through your tears as you look up at him. "I know."

"Good." Coryo whispers, kissing your nose. "I love you."

"Really?" You whisper, eyes lighting up as you wring your hands together against his chest in front of you. "You're not just saying that because I'm crying on you?" You laugh slightly.

"No, I do." He nods in confirmation, grinning down at you in admiration. "There's no one else in this world I can trust as much as I can trust you."

"Then why'd you give her your scarf?" You ask, tilting your head. "It looked... valuable."

"It was. It belonged to my mother..." He says solemnly. He suddenly shakes his head, mocking your expression as he changes the tone. "You really were dead to the world, huh? I was holding it, and she just asked if she could see it. Then she didn't give it back." Coryo explains, raising an eyebrow at you. "Why, are you jealous of the dead girl?"

You roll your eyes with a smile on your face, attempting to shove him away.

"Hey, I'm kidding." He laughs, pulling you close again by your wrists. "Don't you trust me?"

"Okay, yes, I trust you." You giggle as he drops your wrists, sliding his hands over your waist.

"And you love me?" Coryo asks, urging you on.

"And I love you." You grin, nodding slightly.

"That's my girl..." He hums, running a hand lower down your side, thumb running over your midsection as he leans in to kiss you. He had you right where he wanted you, he'd wanted to say that for ages. Only since he even clued into the fact that the buzz he gets under his skin when he catches you smiling, anyway. Realistically, you were something he had always wanted. Picturing his future over the last few years when he was dragging himself out of bed every morning desperate to arrive to class on time even on an empty stomach, his daydreams of his success always included your own, as well.

Now, it was only the two of you. He was so right about you, you were perfect in every way. Smart, obedient to him and only to him, but you fought for what you wanted. You knew struggle, pressure, and soul crushing expectations in the same way he did. Through all of it, you were there for him. You were beautiful- and he was the only one smart enough to see past your occasional outbursts. No one knew how to navigate you like he did, and he was lucky that few people ever bothered to try.

The most beautiful girl in all of the Capitol, and you were his. He meant it when he said that he would never let anyone hurt you. He couldn't let anyone take you from him.

"Do you know where we're going? Where Tigris and your Grandma'am are living?" You whisper, curled up next to Coryo on the train as it pulls into the Capitol station. You're holding the orange silk scarf in your hands, using it as a small blanket in the cold train car. You had spent most of your time out by the lake trying to clean it- but dirt was a stubborn stain. You'd have to be more thorough once you had access to cleaning supplies again. You couldn't let such a lovely piece of clothing go to waste, especially when it was so valuable to him.

"I don't..." Coryo mumbles in response, staring out the window as you lean your head against his shoulder, knees tucked up to your chest. "They shouldn't be hard to find, though."

The wheels screech to a slow stop in the familiar city, and you can't help but smile at the endless sea of grey architecture. It wasn't anything like the forest in Twelve, and you loved it. The door slides open and some peacekeepers enter, drawing both of your attention as you sit up away from him.

"Dr. Gaul is expecting you both in her lab immediately." One of them informs you, and you nod a little bit, looking nervously over at your boyfriend.

You hung off his arm for the entire car ride and all the way to the lab as you're escorted by the men in the matching uniform to his own. Your clothes were dirty, despite how many times you cleaned them back in District Twelve. You had cleaned them obsessively throughout the last couple of months, but the water was never quite clear enough to be helpful. It was vile. Surely you smell unpleasant due to this, and you were hoping you would have a shower before confronting anyone from your previous life, but clearly, you weren't so lucky.

"Do I stink?" You whisper, trying to avoid the echo of the large room as your heels click across the linoleum flooring.

"Not any more than I do." Coryo answers, a small smile pulling on his lips as he glances down at you.

You giggle, gently slapping his chest as he removes his hat.

"Congratulations, Mister Snow, Miss Y/L/N. You've passed all my tests." You look up at Dr. Gaul for the first time as she speaks to you, tossing something into a pool on her floor. "I've asked President Ravenstill to grant you both a full pardon, effective immediately."

You don't say anything as you both stop in front of the tank in the ground, staring into it as Coryo revels in the shock. "I also told him that you are too promising to be wasted in the Districts. So you will be studying under me at the Capitol University."

While she speaks, you pull Tigris's coat tighter around yourself at the slimy, vicious look of whatever creatures are splashing around inside that tank that she is continuously feeding.

"We can't afford university." Coryo answers on your behalf, forcing you to look up at the woman across from you. While you were incredibly grateful, you were scared. Things were complicated back at your parents' home, and even with a legal form of forgiveness, it's not likely your father will see it the same way. You couldn't go back, and he wasn't likely to give you a dime or let you go free. Within the week, you'd probably die from an "unknown illness" contracted in the Districts if he found out you were home.

"A certain Mister Strabo Plinth has offered to pay for everything you need while you're there. All for being such good friends to his Sejanus." Dr. Gaul explains and your heart drops in your chest. You can't help but wonder if he's even still alive out there, in the North. "He doesn't know quite how good a friend you were, of course. I never mentioned your little recording. Quite impressive, Mister Snow, how you sent your only friend to the grave just to get my attention."

"That's not what I did." Coryo shakes his head at the allegation.

He squeezes your arm in warning, knowing this topic was a fine line to walk. "Are you sure? Because I think that won you the Plinth Prize, after all."

"Sejanus Plinth is not dead." You blurt out without thinking. She tilts her head at you, looking at you intensely, a knowing smile growing on her lips.

"Oh?" She asks, and internally you struggle for a saving grace while Coryo furrows his brow at you. You hadn't seen Sejanus since you sent him away, but you did try looking for him in your days out there alone. You had to believe he was alive, after you gave him his way out.

"Well, I heard that he had escaped in Twelve. As far as I know, they never found a body. He planned on running off anyway. That's likely what he did." You explain, clearing your throat.

"I agree. That is likely, but the odds he would survive out there..." She shakes her head slightly, dropping another treat into the tank as the creatures snap at it. "Anyway, the president has agreed to another year of the games! People watched, and I have you kids to thank for that."

You and Coryo wear matching grins now, posture perfect to match your collective pride.

"But before I take you under my wing, after everything you've seen out there in the real world, let me ask you one final time." Dr. Gaul says, looking pointedly between the two of you. "What are the Hunger Games for?"

You look up at your boyfriend, nodding for him to answer. "I used to think that the Hunger Games were a punishment for the districts. Then, I thought they served as a warning to us here in the capitol, about the threat the districts posed. Now I know the whole world is an arena. And we need the Hunger Games every year to remind us all who we truly are."

"And who are you, do you determine?" Coryo looks down at you as she speaks.

"We are the Victors." You finish with a proud smile, looking at the woman across from you who seems more than pleased with your answer.

"Coriolanus, what are you doing back so soon?" Your mom greets him as she opens the door of your childhood home, smiling sadly, confused as to the condition of his return.

"Good afternoon, Ma'am." He smiles politely, grey uniform cap now clutched to his chest. "I proved to be exceptional in my training. Dr. Gaul saw it was better Y/N and I work under her at the University."

"Y/N?" Your mom gasps, reaching up to cover her mouth with her hand. "She's alive?"

"I assure you, she is safe." Coriolanus nods. "Now, may I speak with your husband? I won't take up much of his time." He brushes past her, entering the home without waiting for permission.

"Well, dear, where is she?" Your mom asks, letting him pass and closing the door quickly. "Why hasn't she come home?"

"I think you know why she hasn't come here." He hums, looking around. "Where is he?"

"His study." Your mom answers quietly, gesturing up the stairs. "I'll walk you."

"No need. I know where I'm going." He gives her a small smile in return, following the familiar path toward your room.

He stops in front of your father's study, knocking before taking a step back. The force of habit leads him to stand at attention while he waits for permission to enter.

"I'm busy, don't bother me." Your father's voice echoes through the ornate lining on the door. Then he realizes, he doesn't need permission. Not anymore.

Coriolanus huffs, opening the door and stepping in.

"I said-" Your father growls, slamming his pen down on the desk before he looks up and takes in the grey of Coriolanus's decorated peacekeeper uniform. "Coriolanus."

"Sir." He nods in response, closing the door quietly behind himself. "May I sit?" He asks coldly, gesturing to the chair across from him.

"Please." Your father nods, brow furrowed as to what the blonde boy could possibly want, or what he is doing back so soon.

"Y/N isn't here, son." Your father sighs. "She-"

"I know that." Coriolanus interrupts, placing his hat on the desk between them.

"You know where she is." Your father's tone is unsurprised, but questioning.

"I do." He confirms, back straight in the chair. He had always been afraid of your father, but this was built on an admiration. He reminded him of what little he remembered about his own father. This morphed into anger slowly but surely over the last few years, picking up several hints either in your appearance, demeanor, or choice of words which painted an incredibly unflattering picture of who the man sitting in front of him truly was.

Your dad hums in response, eyes locked on the boy. "How was your summer?"

The question catches Coryo off guard, but he puts all his focus into maintaining his poise. He has the upper hand, here, and he has to keep reminding himself of that. "It was good. Certainly an eye-opening experience, the people out there are very... different."

"Then what brought you back so soon?" His neglect to even ask where you were, if you were okay, if you were even alive makes Coryo's blood boil in his veins.

"Dr. Gaul." Coriolanus states, swallowing before he continues. "She granted your daughter and I a full pardon in exchange for taking an internship under her at the university. After all, that is her dream, is it not?"

Your father's eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of your name. "It was." He agrees.

"Is." Coriolanus corrects him, leaning forward with his elbows on the desk. "Strabo Plinth has offered to pay our way."

"Of course he has." Your dad chuckles, but not an ounce of humour reaches his eyes. "Self righteous bastard..."

"Seeing as you don't care about her as much as you care about your own reputation, he saw it would be a way to repay her for her loyal friendship to his son. She saved his life twice, after all." Coryo ignores your father's comment, watching as the gears turn in his head, trying to remember the second time.

"I know you think you understand my daughter, Coriolanus, but there are some parts of her you will never know. Not truly." Your father responds coolly. "So, I'm not sure what she has told you, but-"

"But nothing." Coryo cuts him off, leaning back in his seat. "Here is what is going to happen. You will have nothing to do with her, her life, her mistakes, or her decisions any longer. Since, in your own words, you see her as such a burden, I am willing to free you of that."

Your dad grits his teeth together, and it's his turn to lean forward. "Coriolanus Snow, you will not speak to me that way in my own home. Y/N is my daughter, and I shall be involved as I please and I shall do with her what I deem appropriate to consequent her actions."

"No." Coryo replies sternly, standing up abruptly, unabashed by the sound of the chair scraping across the wooden floor as he slams his fist on the desk. "She is eighteen. I take responsibility for her now, and unless you want to lose everything you and Highbottom have built, you will cut me in on every dime you make. Do you understand?"

Your dad laughs again. "And who will believe you, Coryo? You're just kids. You don't know what you're talking about. Whatever she told you is untrue. Simple as that."

"Would you like a list?" Coryo threatens. "Is that a risk you're willing to take, Y/D/N?"

He sighs, standing up to look eye to eye with him, clearly seething with the disrespectful use of his first name. "She's more trouble for you than it's worth, Son."

"That is my decision to make." Coryo says through gritted teeth.

"Suit yourself." Your dad raises his hands in defeat, careful to not show any fear. Coriolanus could see through it, though. He's won, and he knows it; it was a great deal, if your father was smart enough to see it that way. "How much do you want? Money is nothing to me."

"More than Highbottom gets." Coriolanus requests plainly, grabbing his hat and placing it back over his head. "And you'll pay for our wedding." He adds casually, pushing the discarded chair back into its place. "You'll pay for as many dresses and parties as she wants, every drink, every slice of cake, and every last flower she wishes for exactly how she wishes for it. No compromises, and no surprise appearances from you. Are. We. Clear?" He speaks clearly, intentionally enunciating every word with a trace of venom.

"Crystal." Your father scoffs, taking a drink from the whiskey glass on his desk.

Coriolanus nods, giving him a small smile. "Good. I'll be expecting the money orders every other week." He grins smugly, giving your father a quick bow before heading for the door, stopping as his hand brushes over the handle. "All due respect, Sir, which I deem to be very little, but what you have done to your daughter over all these years is what has made her into the woman you hate. Don't think I was the only one who noticed, and you would deserve every bit of harm we could do to your name. If you ever so much as speak to her again, I will kill you myself."

Coryo glances back at your father's expression only briefly before leaving. He couldn't resist the satisfying look of loathing and anger on the man's face.

The small smile sticks as he walks down the stairs, hearing the crystal glass shatter as it's thrown against the door behind him.

Finally, you were totally even.

taglist: @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @klplynn , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @gloryekaterina , @andrewgarfieldsbitch , @queenofspades6 , @pepperonipastas , @ladybug0095 , @lunamothwrites , @sbrewer21 , @mus-tbe-a-weasley , @splxtscreen , @unclecrunkle , @karmaswitch , @coconut-dreamz , @nekee-lilac02 , @ooooglymoooogly , @riddlerloveb0t , @lovedbalances , @notyourwildestdream , @snowlandson-top , @too-lit-for-fanfic , @utopiakys , @deafeningballoonnacho , @roosterschanelslut , @chmpgneprblem , @cosmoetik , , @urvampgfsworld , @carolanns-world@nan-nie , @shakespearseclipse , @iovemoonyy , @notyoursweetheart-honey , @xyzstar , @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland , @queenofshinigamis , @elodiebeau , @soulessjourney

taglist is closed for coryo unfortunately, but my requests for him are open!! so send me all your suggestions!! requests here!!

#tbosas #tbosas fic #tbosas x reader #president snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo snow #coriolanus x you #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #thg fanfiction #thg series #thg

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 3 months

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Ed Luce: It is not just Donald Trump who dodged a bullet. Half an inch to the left and the cartridge that grazed Trump’s ear would have turned him into a martyr. There is no telling what his death would have unleashed. As it is, the reprehensible attempted assassination of Trump will have profound reverberations for US democracy. Within seconds of being blanketed by secret service agents, Trump was yelling “fight, fight, fight” to the crowd. The instantly ubiquitous photo of him pumping his fist against the backdrop of the stars and stripes will become the emblem of his campaign.

A high-trust society would have awaited the facts of the shooting before leaping to conclusions. By that yardstick, America is close to the edge. Two of the Republicans auditioning to be Trump’s vice-presidential running mate blamed Democrats for inciting hatred of Trump. The favourite, Ohio senator JD Vance, said the Biden campaign’s rhetoric “led directly to President Trump’s attempted assassination”. Tim Scott, the South Carolina senator, said Democrats’ “inflammatory rhetoric puts lives at risk”. Elon Musk, owner of the site, X, on which these statements were posted, was quick to weigh in on a conspiracy about how the shooter could have got so close: “Either extreme incompetence or it was deliberate,” Musk wrote.

Many on the left were equally quick to claim that the shooting was a staged or false flag operation to boost Trump’s election prospects. It is notable, however, that no senior Democratic official has yet fanned those rumours. The identity of the suspected shooter, a 20-year-old man called Thomas Matthew Crooks, offered little help. Though he was a registered Republican and an enthusiastic gun owner, he had made a small donation to a pro-Democratic group. It is plausible that like most US assassins, Crooks was acting alone and delusional. That will not stop political entrepreneurs from blaming the shooting on their ideological enemies.

The biggest question is what Trump will do with it. No honest accounting of America’s fetid climate can ignore the fact that the former president himself is the country’s most influential exponent of political violence. He described those who stormed Capitol Hill with knives and nooses on January 6 2021 as “unbelievable patriots”. He mocked an attack on Paul Pelosi, husband of former Democratic speaker, Nancy Pelosi, after one of his own supporters smashed his head with a hammer. And he encouraged extremist militias to “stand by” shortly before the 2020 election. In calmer democracies, an incident as lethal as the near murder of a party leader with a AR-15-type semi-automatic rifle would lead to bipartisan calls for gun control. There is no chance Trump’s party will change its mind on that subject. The number of AR-15s in America has been estimated to be as high as 44mn, which puts comparisons with earlier periods of US political violence into perspective.

Whether Trump gets a lasting sympathy boost remains to be seen. But three conclusions can already be drawn. The first is that the Republican national convention in Milwaukee this week will be dominated by his near miss. Trump’s campaign is enormously skilled at choreographing optics to enhance his message. The iconic fist-pumping imagery of the candidate rising courageously from his near death will suffuse the convention stage. Trump is expected to name his running mate in the next two days — probably on Monday. Expect the nation to be riveted by admiration or dread at the use to which Republicans put Trump’s near martyrdom. At Trump’s first presidential convention in Cleveland in 2016, the streets around the main hall teemed with private militias brandishing arms. Policing the streets of Milwaukee this week will be an unusually fraught challenge, even by America’s standards.

[Financial Times]

#Financial Times #Ed Luce #election 2024 #TFG

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nebulablakemurphy · 2 years

Text

Moves & Countermoves (Part 2)

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing.

Prologue | Part 1

By the time they arrive at the Capitol, Katniss and Peeta are whisked off to be prepped for the tribute parade.

Y/N is already dressed to the nines, they are here to work after all. Haymitch has begrudgingly squeezed into a pantsuit to match and they’re off to talk up the night’s festivities.

Y/N drags him by the hand as they’re rushed through the streets, bustling with excitement.

“Come, come.” Their escort insists. “Five minutes to curtain.”

“Can’t wait.” Haymitch grumbles, a little hung over. His wife flicks at lint on his shoulder pads, allowing him to take a few sips from his flask as they wait in the wings. Fussing over his hair. “It’s fine,” he’s not like her. Nobody is expecting him to be perfectly put together.

“Remember, we’re happy, we’re grateful, we’re in love.” Sounds an awful lot like the pep talks he used to give her. As if somehow, over the years, they’ve switched places.

“Are we not in love?” Haymitch slurs, cocking his head to the side.

Y/N sighs, “of course we are.” Maybe not the way they were in the beginning. Gone are stolen kisses and frenzied hands; given way to comfort and familiarity.

Flickerman’s music plays, the show has started. As the crowd settles back into their seats, Caesar makes his announcement. “Tonight, we will be joined by two very special guests before the tribute parade.”

The audience squeals with excitement. They get to see her.

Y/N rose to fame because Haymitch pushed her there; she was the first sign of hope he’d seen in a long time. But she remains at the top because Snow allows her to; Y/N is everything he dreamed a victor would be. Someone to rally and unite the people with a story of gratitude and love for the nation.

“Y/N and Haymitch Abernathy,” Caesar smiles, standing at the front of his chair.

That’s their queue. Walk out, smile, wave.

The crowd howls, erupting into applause. Stealing the air from Y/N’s lungs, though no one besides her husband could know that. They greet Caesar in turn. Y/N with a hug; the show host vibrating with delight. Haymitch is a hand shake and a pat on the back.

“Welcome, welcome. Thank you for joining us.”

“Thank you for having us,” Y/N takes her assigned seat on the couch after Haymitch plops down.

“Tell us, how are things?” Caesar crosses one leg over the other. “How are the children? It’s been so long since we’ve seen you.”

Not long enough.

“Kids are great,” Haymitch tells him, “brought some pictures for you.” He fishes around in his pocket for a moment before leaning over Y/N to deliver them.

“Oh my,” Caesar cries, “our babies.” He turns the photos out to the crowd, giving the film crew a chance to tighten the shot. “Where are our babies?”

The people let out a collective coo.

“They’re growing up,” Y/N nods.

“You can say that again. Where has all the time gone?”

“I don’t know Caesar, you haven’t aged a day.”

“Ahh,” he clutches a hand to his heart. “You flatter, my girl. Now, I have to ask what we’re all dying to know…”

Haymitch moves to the edge of his seat, feigning anticipation.

“Do you plan on having more children?” Caesar leans in.

Y/N turns to her husband, making a show of whispering in his ear.

Haymitch smirks, nodding suggestively toward the curtains offstage.

“Haymitch, you dog!” Caesar fans himself at the implication.

“It sounded like an invitation,” he shrugs. Quite pleased with himself as people begin cheering. There will be no more children. Not if they have any say in it.

————————————————————————

“I have never seen a more beautiful gown.” The Capitol woman, seated aside of Y/N for the parade, gawks openly at the floor length midnight blue show stopper.

“This?” Y/N looks down at herself. “Doesn’t hold a candle to your outfit. I have half a mind to be jealous.”

Before the chariots are sent out is the perfect time to fish for sponsors. Lay the bait, then once they see the tributes, reel them in.

“Vanity has become quite the talk around here. Everyone loved your reaping dress, we always love your dresses.”

Apparently there is a slew of outfits for a victory tour, assuming one of her tributes ever make it that far.

“Darling, let Y/N breathe.” The woman’s husband cuts in. “Forgive her, she does get overly excited.”

“It’s more than fine,” Y/N reaches a hand out to shake his, “good to meet you both.”

Haymitch watches, giving the man a good old nod and smile when they make eye contact.

The presence of victors is addictive to these people. No matter how much they give, the Capitol demands more. Snow sells it for a price, sells them for a price.

Y/N wants out, she wants freedom. Haymitch keeps her sane, keeps her happy within the confines of their birdcage. They aren’t the only ones. People are angry, desperate for reform. Panem is on the precipice of a revolution, Snow can feel it too. So he digs his claws in a bit deeper.

Soon as the anthem begins to play, all eyes are on the tributes.

District twelve is last, they probably have them dressed as miners again. Ever since Vanity left her post as stylist for the games, the outfits have gone downhill.

This new stylist, Cinna, comes with raving reviews. Still Y/N is surprised to see Peeta and Katniss emerge…on fire?

“Oh my goodness!”

“Look at them!”

“That’s amazing!”

The crowd goes wild, rising from their seats for a closer look. Haymitch huffs a laugh, proud to be their mentor, even though he’ll never admit it.

Katniss won him over during breakfast on the train when she stabbed his placemat. She is a fighter, fighters have a chance if sponsors like them.

When their tributes join hands and hold them high in the air, people eat it up. So far, things are looking better for Katniss and Peeta than any tributes before. The ones Haymitch can’t put names to, the faces that come unbidden in his dreams.

————————————————————————

“Each district gets their own floor.” Effie claps her hands together as she informs the tributes. “Since you’re from twelve, you get the penthouse.”

Katniss side eyes Y/N. Is she serious?

Y/N shoots her a reassuring grin when Katniss freezes at the entrance to the elevator.

“Come on, sweetheart.” Haymitch demands, at this rate he’ll be holding the door open all night.

Katniss swallows, stepping in aside Peeta. Even with Effie, Portia, Cinna and their mentors, the space is not cramped. She wonders idly how many other people could fit.

When they reach the top floor Effie scurries out. “Here it is!”

This time Peeta stalls.

“Come on.” Y/N puts a hand to his back, nodding to the foyer.

Peeta snaps his mouth shut, following after his stylist. It is a bit overwhelming, Y/N remembers. Though the novelty wears off in time.

Effie shows the kids to their rooms. The mentors know theirs well.

“Unzip,” Y/N pleads, the moment they are alone, in the privacy of their suite.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Haymitch chortles. Turning her away to open the gown, allowing it to pool at her feet.

She kicks it away, removing her jewelry and opting for a shower before dinner. When the water runs clear she towels off, feeling like herself again or something close to it.

Tomorrow they train.

Part 3

Series Taglist: @praline357 @flowercrowns-goodvibes @justheretoparty420

#haymitch abernathy #haymitch abernathy x y/n #haymitch abernathy fanfic #haymitch fanfic #haymitch x y/n #haymitch abernathy x you #haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch x reader #hunger games fanfiction #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #effie trinket #the hunger games

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heliads · 9 days

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promise me - cato hadley

Cato promises you he won't volunteer for the Hunger Games, and then he does. When Plutarch Heavensbee offers you a chance to get back at the Capitol for taking your boyfriend away, of course you're going to say yes.

masterlist

Cato is dying. So they say. You haven’t been watching.

It sounds bad. It is bad. But you had made your boyfriend promise that he would stay as far from the Games as he could, and you’d actually believed him when he said he would, that he’d live to old age with you. Cato has been wanting the Games as long as he’s been alive, but you’ve been wanting him to stay with you for about that long, anyway. It took forever to wear him down enough for him to say he’d give up his dream of being a Victor, and just when you felt sure of yourself, he’d gone and volunteered.

It was stunning how quickly everything fell apart. You’d heard the representative from the Capitol read out the name of the male tribute, and when you didn’t hear your boyfriend’s name, you thought you were safe, you were fine. Another year guaranteed. Before you could even take another breath, though, a familiar voice rang through the town square. In your nightmares, you’d seen Cato volunteer a hundred times over. It was fitting, somehow, that when he volunteered in real life, it was exactly like every other time you’d seen it.

He’d looked at you from the stage, tried to find you in the crowd. You weren’t smiling. And, when they’d asked for the last visitors to see the tributes before they were shipped off the Capitol to die in glorious combat, you’d never even had the chance to talk to him. You’d tried to go to him, but the small holding room was swamped with adoring fans. You know Cato saw you over the heads of all the people saying how proud they were, how they were so sure he’d win. He saw you, and he saw you shake your head at all the people cheering for his imminent demise, and he saw you go.

You regret it half the time he’s been gone, leaving so early. It wasn’t like you would have been able to talk to him anyway; by the time you were turning around, the Peacekeepers were already starting to usher people out, and Cato, breaking another promise, hadn’t kept a space clear for you to find him. But, at the end of the day, you didn’t just leave because it was impossible to get to him. You left because you couldn’t stand to hear everybody praising him for going to his death, and you couldn’t stand to hear one more word about how his betrayal would make him a better man.

At the end of the day, you almost saw it coming. Winning the Hunger Games is Cato’s big dream, and it has been since you were kids. Even when you were small, you remember him staying late to train. He was proficient in the sword before most kids got their first kiss. You had always hoped that he would love life enough to stay away from that arena of death, but the last of your hopes were gone when he volunteered.

You don’t watch a second of his Games, you can’t stomach it. You try to picture watching your boyfriend die live on camera, your own falling face broadcasted live to the Capitol. Would your neighbors approve of your reaction when the love of your life was run through or shot or poisoned? It makes you want to throw up, so you stay at home and try to stay away from the screens, but nothing works. Even clamping your hands tight over your ears doesn’t stop you from hearing the roars of the crowds outside when something happens.

You have to assume Cato is doing well, but recently, people have been saying it looks bad. When Clove died, the mood shifted in the entire district, and that sense of jubilation over a seemingly guaranteed District Two victory has never returned. They say Cato is hurt, maybe. They say Katniss and Peeta are going to kill him.

Night falls when someone gets you, tells you that you have to head to the square, now. You get there just in time to see Cato on top of the cornucopia in the dark, trapping Peeta with the baying hounds below him. Katniss shoots. He falls. The cannon rings, and you’re dead along with him.

You’re numb for days. You don’t even remember the laments around you, strangers you’ve seen on the street telling you how sorry they are as if that does a damn thing when they pushed him to this. You get home, apparently. You get to bed. Somehow, you live when he doesn’t. You wouldn’t know how it happens. You don’t know a thing at all.

You stop leaving your room. You don’t want to see anyone, or have to witness the awkward guilt when they recognize who you are and why you look like the whole world has burned to ash around you, because to you, it has. Your parents try to bring you food, and you eat it, tasting nothing. You drink water and wonder why you bother when it just lets you cry again hours later.

When someone knocks on the door, you don’t bother answering, assuming it’s your family. The knock sounds again a few seconds later, smart and unavoidable. It doesn’t really sound like the tentative rap of your parents, so against your better judgment, you rise and answer.

There’s a man looking back at you, one you’ve never met before. He’s in his forties, maybe, his hair an early white. He looks Capitol, but you can’t fathom why he’d be here. He invites himself in, taking a seat at your desk and looking back at you once he’s settled himself.

“You should close that,” he says, gesturing to the door.

You’re not really energized enough to start arguing, so you do as told and sit down on your bed, hands clasping at nothing in your lap.

“Who are you?” You ask, voice scratchy from tears and lack of use.

The man glances once at the windows, once again at the door, and finally a quick scan of the room before he speaks quietly. “My name is Plutarch Heavensbee. I’m going to be the new Head Gamemaker.”

You eye him dolefully. “I didn’t realize the Head Gamemakers did personal apology tours for the dead tributes.”

He chuckles dryly. “We don’t. To speak plainly, I’m here because I need something.”

His honesty, however brutal, is a relief after all the saccharine half-meant apologies from the rest of Two. “What could I possibly give you?”

Plutarch steeples his fingers together, thoughtful. “Your unwavering loyalty.”

You laugh, now. It’s a far colder sound than his. “You and your Games killed Cato. Why would I ever follow you again?”

Plutarch’s eyes lock onto yours. “I may make the Games, Y/N, but I do not believe in them.” It’s a radical statement, and he lets it hang in the air for a few seconds before he continues. “We have a possibility of taking a stand against the Capitol. I’m looking for inside sources. You’re the perfect fit.”

You arch a brow. “I have no connection to the Games. How could I possibly help you?”

“Your lack of connection is the exact reason we need you,” Plutarch argues. “You’re not on the Capitol’s radar as anything more than a grieving ex-lover. Two is valuable to us.”

You lean back, considering this. “You want me to be a spy so I can get revenge on the Capitol for killing Cato. That’s it?”

“That’s it?” Plutarch scoffs. “You have no idea of the risk we all suffer just by meeting. Let me be clear, Y/N, what I am about to ask of you is dangerous to you and everyone you have ever known. The Capitol will butcher you and display your rotting body as a lesson. This is not something you pick up to pass the time. This will become your life, or you do not join. I want you here because you want to get back at the Capitol as much as the rest of us, but I will not permit you to be near us if I suspect you are not fully committed to the cause.”

His voice is steely, and it cuts through the haze of your grief like one of Cato’s knives. Briefly, the anguish gives way to fierce, bitter pain. You miss Cato with everything you have. There were a thousand things you were supposed to do, places you were meant to visit together, people you were supposed to become. You have been robbed of everything in the world. This is your chance to get the Capitol back, and you– you are going to take it.

“I’m in,” you say before you can stop yourself. “I want Snow gone.”

Plutarch’s thin lips curl into a smile. “I’m glad to hear it.”

He stands, but pauses before he gets to the door. “We’ll be in contact. Keep your eyes open, and stay safe. Spies don’t have a long life expectancy. We’d hate to lose you before you even start.”

You nod grimly. “You as well.”

He almost smiles, then sweeps from the room. You can hear the distant sounds of him thanking your parents for the visit, and expressing his sincere sympathy for the loss of Two’s tributes this year. Then he’s gone, and you’re left wondering what you’ve done to yourself.

Your parents are thrilled when you get a job offer from the Gamemakers later that week. You’re able to pass off Plutarch’s visit as a last interview/congratulations before your new position begins. You’ll work in Two, mostly, deep within the district government, but you’ll have weekly meetings in the Capitol to update the Gamemakers on your progress.

In reality, you’ll be gathering everything you can and checking in with Plutarch once a week. The first time you take the train to the Capitol to meet him, you can’t help but wonder if this is how Cato felt, too, watching home rush away from him, knowing that success or death would await him in the Capitol. Your throat burns by the time you get there, torn raw with unshed tears.

Plutarch is careful, always careful, but as the weeks wear on, he trusts you little by little. He confesses eventually that having a spy in Two was crucial to his future endeavors. He won’t mention what those future endeavors are, not completely, but you understand why. It’s too risky to spill everything to someone he’s only just met.

You don’t know that Plutarch is truly certain of your loyalty, though, for another three months. By now, you’ve had several close run-ins with curious Peacekeepers, and transmitted enough information to feed Plutarch’s flames for years. As a reward, he takes you down to a secret room in the hidden headquarters of the rebellion, and in those cool, dimly lit rooms, he says something that transforms your life completely.

“We have Cato.”

At first, you think they mean the coffin. He was buried in the Capitol, they all were. There’s a broadcasted ceremony every year for all the tributes. That one, you watched. They wouldn’t let you or his family come. No one was by his side when he entered the earth. You sobbed for hours.

Plutarch shakes his head, though. “He’s still alive.”

You have to lean against the wall to steady yourself. “Impossible.”

“Not impossible,” Plutarch says. “We grabbed his body before rigor mortis set in. He’s been in a medically induced coma for months while our medical staff stitches him back together. It’ll be a while before he’s even conscious, and longer before he can walk and talk, but he’ll be back.”

You feel dizzy, head rushing from loss of blood. “They would have noticed,” you fight to say. “He was dead, Katniss shot him. The Capitol would never let him go.”

“They don’t care about the dead,” Plutarch says. “Not yours, not mine. I collected him.”

You glance up sharply. “You wanted him as a bargaining chip, didn’t you? If I didn’t agree so easily, you would have told me that you had my boyfriend.”

Plutarch nods, paying no mind to the storm in your heart. “I would have done anything to secure a spy in Two. You know that. I would go to any lengths to do it. Even, yes, hold Cato over you. That was the whole point.”

Of course it was. Clever, plotting Plutarch, would always have a second option. If he had doubted your loyalty back in your house in Two, he would have ensured he had a safety net to stop you from going to the Peacekeepers the second he left. You hadn’t needed it, so he’d kept his ace up his sleeve until now.

“Why tell me, then?” You croak. “You don’t care what happens to Cato. What do you want from me now? I’ve given you everything.”

“Not everything,” Plutarch muses thoughtfully. “Not your life, not yet. The time may come. But you’re right, Y/N, I do want more. You’ve been with us a long time. Long enough to grow complacent. I want to ensure that you will remain just as sharp as ever. As we draw closer to the Quarter Quell, our plans will accelerate. I need to know that you will guarantee our success.”

“I would have done that without you threatening to kill Cato a second time,” you spit.

Plutarch just sighs. “I can’t guarantee that.”

You can’t stop staring around the room, trying to find a curl of blond hair, a wicked smile, any sign of the boy you’ve loved for so long. “Where is he? I want to see him.”

Plutarch nods, gesturing for you to follow him. “I wouldn’t expect you to just take my word for it.”

He leads you through a series of locked doors to a small care unit. There’s a body encased in a blue cell, the encircling glass walls just large enough to thread the limbs and chest with tubes pumping some sort of liquid throughout. Through the misty aqua glow, you can make out a face.

You stumble. You’d know Cato anywhere, even almost dead, even almost back to life. You stare at him, eyes wide, and a tear falls from your face and drips onto the glass. You didn’t even realize you were crying again. You didn’t think you could, anymore, but this hope– it brings you back to life along with him.

“When will he be awake?” You ask, breath harsh in your chest.

Plutarch straightens up from where he’s been glancing at a nearby readout. “A month or two, perhaps. He’ll be functional by the time of the next Games, which is good. If all goes well, we will need to run.”

You look up at him. “Tell me what you need me to do and I’ll do it. Anything.”

His lips curve up into a smile. In the ghostly blue light of Cato’s healing cell, he looks like a phantom. The ghost of Games gone by, perhaps. The ghost of the tributes to come. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

With that, you let the rebellion consume you. Not a day goes by that you aren’t traveling between districts, gathering information, and spreading contraband from rebel group to rebel group. Plutarch keeps you busy. Most nights, you don’t sleep for more than a few hours at a time, any rest caught in brief snatches between train rides. If you ever had a home, it’s no more than a memory now. You don’t stay in any place long enough to remember it. You’re certain Peacekeepers have been following you for days now, but maybe you just can’t tell the difference between the white-armored soldiers in every district.

You’re stopping by the rebel headquarters in the Capitol to bring news of the developments in Thirteen when Plutarch asks you to stay a while longer. You assume he wants you to take on another project, but instead he tells you that Cato has woken up. He couldn’t risk mentioning it through the usual comms, but he remembers his promise just as you’ve remembered yours.

You fly down the stairs to the med center, flying around the corners until you’re back in the care unit. The blue glass cell is gone, replaced by a hospital bed. A patient is sitting up and arguing with one of the doctors. You notice he’s been cuffed to the rail of the bed, and can’t help a small smile. That’s your Cato, isn’t it? Always a fighter.

He falls silent when you enter, eyes wide. For a moment, you wonder if the healing damaged his brain, if he might not remember you, if anything would ever be the same, and then a tentative hope enters his voice as he says, “Y/N?”

You’re across the room in a moment, and then you’re in his arms again, and maybe everything will be okay again. His free hand, the one that isn’t cuffed to the bed, is pressed against your back, drawing you ever closer to him.

“Y/N,” he says in a choked whisper, “Y/N, I died.”

“No,” you murmur, drawing back so you can see his face. It’s the same face, somehow. Still him. Still Cato. “They brought you back. You’re going to be okay.”

“How is that possible?” Cato asks, raising his free hand to touch your face lightly as if he can’t believe it’s you.

“Don’t ask me,” you chuckle weakly. “All I know is that you’re here. That’s all that matters.”

Cato glances warily at the doctors, then returns his gaze to you. He looks more carefully now, taking in the hollows under your eyes, the scars and scrapes on your arms. “What have you done, Y/N? What did they make you do?”

You choke on a laugh before you can stop yourself. “The star tribute is asking me what I did? I haven’t been in the Games, Cato. I’m not the one who signed themselves up to die.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” he says. “You’ve got– you look like us now.”

Dully, you realize what he means. There’s a sort of innocence in the faces of people who haven’t had to take a life. Even the hardiest of the careers still have it if they haven’t been in the Games. Cato sees it now in you. The last year has destroyed you.

You let out a slow breath, taking his hand in yours. “Losing you destroyed me, Cato. I had to do what I could.”

Cato looks around the room again, his hunter’s eyes taking in the details of the workers, the sparse decoration of the room. “We’re not with the Capitol anymore, are we?”

“No,” you admit, “we’re not.”

Something savage twists his face. “Good.”

You weren’t sure how he would take the news that you were working with the rebels, but surprisingly, Cato is in favor. He’s mad about what they did to secure Katniss’ victory. The whole point of the Games was that the strongest would win, he says, but they interfered. All that hard work to get to the Games, and then the Makers cheated him out of it.

What Cato doesn’t realize is how deeply entrenched you are in the workings of the Rebels. Cato isn’t allowed to go back to normal, obviously, Panem thinks he’s dead, but he hadn’t counted on you joining him in that fate. They find Cato a place in Thirteen where he can help train the soldiers; it’s good for him to stay busy, and he tries to work his body to the limits so exhaustion will fight off the nightmares of dying for him, but Cato wants you there with him.

Only, that isn’t the case. Plutarch didn’t give you Cato back so you could stop working with the rebellion. If anything, it makes you work even harder. Now that you have Cato, you finally have the brief, glimmering hope of a better life, but you won’t get it if the Capitol still exists.

By now, you’ve been clued in to Plutarch’s master plan for the Games. The rules for the Quarter Quell were announced a few days ago. The dominoes have started to fall. All that’s left to do is make sure the ruin runs where you want it.

Cato doesn’t see it that way. Every time you’re at Thirteen, you make time to see your boyfriend, but it’s never enough. It never will be, not until the Capitol is gone, not until the war is over. For Cato, though, he’s already died. He wants to stop running.

You’re with him now, tucked into his arms on his bunk with your back up against his chest, pretending that you won’t have to leave again in just a few hours. He’s tracing absentminded circles on your forearms, and when he speaks, his breath buzzes against the top of your head.

“Stay with me,” he says. “They’re going to kill you if you keep this up. Stay here.”

“You know I can’t,” you sigh. “Not until it’s done.”

Cato blows out sharply, annoyed. “Let them die, not you. You’re better than that.”

“All our deaths are the same,” you contradict. “Might as well be me.”

Cato’s grip around you tightens possessively. “I’d let all of them die before you.”

You shift slightly so you can look up at him. He’s frustrated again, jaw tight as he tries to control himself. “I have to do this. All of our work depends on the Games going in our favor. If we give up now, it was all for nothing. I can’t let that happen.”

Cato shakes his head tersely. “Promise me you won’t get hurt. Promise me you won’t die for them.”

The twisting guilt of deja vu curls around your stomach. You can’t help but remember a similar moment, a similar promise, almost a year ago exactly. You had said almost the same thing to Cato when he was talking about volunteering. At the time, it had seemed so easy. All Cato had to do was stay with you, and he would have been safe. But Cato had to go, it would have killed him not to go. And it’ll kill you to stay. Both of you know this. It doesn’t make it any easier.

You kiss him once, twice. For past and present. “I’ll see you soon.”

You won’t. You’ll be in the Capitol until after the Games at least, and although Plutarch has promised he’ll get you out with the rest, there’s always the small chance that it won’t work out.

Cato pulls you up in his arms so you’re eye to eye. “Soon,” he says.

“Soon,” you repeat. This close to him, you’re sure he can feel your pulse thundering in your veins, carrying with it the weight of this lie. He would know how to sense it, too. All that time in the arena, he’d know how to tell when someone was about to die.

Cato doesn’t want to let you go, but he has to, piece by piece, second by second, letting you go in the bed just to crawl off and hold you by the door, then walk you to the jet, then hold you again one last time before you’re taken away. You watch through the window as he shrinks away to nothingness, one arm still raised. You’ll see him again, or never at all.

Plutarch is waiting for you in the Capitol. “It’s time to play,” he says.

“It’s time to win,” you return.

He smiles without meaning it and turns back to his screens. There’s a lot of data to get through. Some of the tributes you weren’t expecting, but you have who you need. Finnick knows, Johanna knows, but you can keep Katniss and Peeta in the dark for as long as possible.

Thus, the Games begin, and, electrifying as an arrow in the night, they end. You watch Katniss looking down her bow at Finnick, then turning her weapon towards the sky. Plutarch slips away from Snow long enough to get you, and the two of you hurry towards a transport that will take you back to Thirteen in the dead of night. Voices are hushed. The tributes get out, but not all of them. Peeta, you think, was left behind. Johanna too. Still, it’s a better collection than you’d hoped.

And, when the jet docks in Thirteen, there’s someone waiting for you in the hangar, your golden boy. Cato comes running over before the landing gear is even fully tucked away. He waits, impatient as a coiled spring, while the doors open, and then he’s rushing inside and pulling you into his arms.

“No more separation,” he says against your temple. “We fight together now.”

“Together,” you whisper back, and you mean it, too.

Whatever happens after this, the cards are all on the table. Cato can come back to the public eye. You’ll fight in the war side by side. If you die before the rebellion wins, you’ll do it together. Some would call that tragic, but all of this is a tragedy. At least you’ll have him. Two is gone to you, so too is any dream of normalcy, but Cato– Cato, you will always have. That, at least, is your victory.

hunger games tag list: @w1shes43, @ilovexavierthrope

all tags list: @wordsarelife, @supervoldejaygent

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cherryslyce · 2 years

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Sharp Knives, Sharp Gazes | Clove Kentwell

Synopsis: A dangerous attraction to one of the deadly careers leads to more than you could have bargained for, including unlikely friendships and romance.

Masterlist

Pairing: Clove Kentwell x District 4!Reader

Notes: Not canon compliant (Glimmer lives, careers are OOC because they are not mindless killers). Someone save Finnick before Y/N gives him a heart attack. Marvel is fun to write, even though I'm a Cato fan.

A prickle of anxiety jolted down your spine as you lifted your eyes and met a pair of amused ones. Your eyes flickered down and paused on the grin stretching across her freckled face.

She was undeniably pretty, but the deadly glint in her eyes convinced your fellow tributes to stay away from her. Somehow, you had caught her attention and you would have been endlessly flustered had it not been for the dire circumstances you found yourself in.

“Hey, 4. You look scrappy enough. Good. The last few years your district has produced nothing but disappointments.”

You snap out of your trance and tear your gaze away from the menacing girl from District 2, coming face to face with the smug male tribute from 1–Marvel.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, 1.”

“Feisty. Look, for some reason Clove thinks it would be interesting to bring you into our fold. Don’t look at me like that, she said it, not me. So what do you say? Care to live up to District 4’s legacy as a part of the Career Pack, or are you going to scamper around and die off like a fish out of water?”

The boy finished his (very convincing) speech with a sigh as if you were the terrible inconvenience in this situation. Although, despite how annoyed you grew with him, you respected his skills with a spear and it was apparent he held some begrudging respect for you as well.

“Clove? I thought Cato was your leader? I don’t think he’s open for recruitment, shouldn’t you run this idea past him first?”

“He’s not a dictator, you’ll be fine. Besides, we can all see how valuable you are. You fling around that trident of yours like it’s an extension of your arm.”

Oh. Marvel just praised you. Had you knocked your head too many times on the train ride to the Capitol?

“And then what, you’ll slit my throat in my sleep when I’m no longer of use?”

He smiles a little at your retort before growing serious, an expression so foreign on his face that you couldn't help but wait patiently to hear what he had to say next.

“Maybe. But you have a better chance with us. Who knows, maybe you’ll even win this and get to go home. Bring pride to your district and whatnot.”

You were definitely dreaming. This was the same Marvel who you thought was a bloodthirsty, hormonal time bomb. Turns out he may hate this situation nearly as much as you.

“I’ll think about it. See you at the interviews tonight, Marvel.”

He nods as if expecting your answer, though you catch his eyebrows raising up as you address him properly for the first time.

“See you around, Y/N.”

As he stalks off towards his favorite station--the spear throw station, you look around to see Clove watching you with an unreadable expression. Luckily, it appeared to be less murderous than usual.

Well that’s nice. Better than having her plotting ways to skin me.

It is not until you’re waiting in line for the interviews with Caesar to start that Clove finally approaches you.

“Y/N. Marvel said you would consider joining us in the arena. I look forward to it.”

You gape as you look at the girl, face heating up uncomfortably as you could barely register her words. She looked so…pretty.

The girl looks at you in concealed wonder, eyes twinkling with mischief. You’re confused for a few moments before you make eye contact with an amused Marvel behind her.

“You don’t look bad yourself, Y/N.”

The girl spins around and stalks off towards Cato who’s begun watching the three of you like you’ve all grown another head.

“Smooth. Didn’t know you had the hots for her. I guess you were quite happy that she was the one to ask for you.”

Marvel grins at you, and for once it’s not a condescending ‘I’m better than you’ type of grin. You groan quietly to yourself, too tired to even flinch when he swings an arm around your shoulder and drags you towards the line of tributes.

Well if the other tributes had no idea of your allegiance, they sure did now.

“So you’re with us then?”

“I don’t have any other choice, you’re already clinging to me like a barnacle.”

Cato smiles, oh so minutely, at your remark to Marvel, nodding at you with a reinvigorated respect that he didn’t seem to extend to many.

Glimmer’s pleased grin greets you briefly before she’s being ushered onto the stage, her face morphing into a blinding, albeit fake, smile.

And so it begins. Hopefully Finnick would be able to nab some sponsors for you.

Yeah. Some sponsors would be good right about now.

You were on the verge of just throwing yourself face-first into Cato’s sword.

Glimmer had a close call with a swarm of tracker jackers, and somehow in the mess Katniss managed to escape. To say your allies were pissed would be the understatement of the year.

Seriously, you were sure one of the trees began to wilt after being faced with the withering look Cato sent it.

”Y/N. Go with Clove to gather some wood.”

“Yes, dad.”

Cato looks around before shooting a quick middle finger at you, an exasperated twitch of the lip taking over his face for the briefest moment before defaulting to his usual grimace of contained rage.

You were sure he was somewhat fond of you considering he hadn’t tried to bite your head off yet.

You round on your heel, habitually twirling your trident over your wrist. Clove is not far behind you as you dart your eyes around the trees.

“Once I get my hands on fire girl, I’m going to tear her limb from limb.”

“I have no doubt you will. Can’t say I’m her biggest fan at the moment. She was aiming to snatch Glimmer’s bow, who knows what kind of devastation she would reign upon us if she succeeded. Good thing one of us managed to wake up.”

“Hm, pretty smug for someone who was cuddled up on me all night like a toasted log.”

A laugh manages to slip through your lips and you’re positive everyone watching back at home is convinced you’ve lost your mind. Seriously, laughing from actual joy during the Hunger Games while stranded in a pack of groomed killers is not the sanest of activities.

Honestly, you would give anything to see how Finnick was coping.

You look back quick enough to catch a pleased look wash over Clove’s features.

Before you could even stop yourself, a river of words flew out of your mouth and you were stuck between not caring and being mortified.

“I meant what I said by the way. You’re really pretty.”

Your remark must have caught her off guard as she suddenly stops midstep, an unnerving silence blanketing around the both of you.

“It’s a shame then, that we met here of all places.” Clove’s words held no bite, though the bitterness in her tone was evident to anyone with a good set of ears.

Taking a hesitant step towards her, you slowly and shakily reach down for her hand. Clove looks down at your fingers, swiftly meeting you in the middle and clasping your fingers together.

“It’s not so bad. After all, we wouldn’t have met if not for the games. I’m glad I get to spend what’s left of my life here with you guys.”

“Don’t talk like that.”

Clove’s sudden fury was not aimed at you, but at something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“You’re right, who could have foreseen me getting along with Cato of all people.”

“No. I mean don’t talk like you’re already dead.”

Clove’s stern words take you by surprise, and a sudden tightness constricts your throat as you swallow down a wave of fondness.

She was looking at you like you could actually win this whole thing. Like it didn’t matter to her if that meant she would have to die.

She steps towards you, a vulnerable glint flecking at the usual indifference of her gaze. Her mind was trained to be a killer, but District 2’s Academy did little to train her heart.

You bring your free hand to cup her cheek, breaking into a watery smile. Leaning over, you press your lips firmly on hers.

Suddenly it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that your moment of vulnerability was being televised to the rest of the nation. It didn’t matter that Finnick was probably dragging his hands down his face in exasperation in the District 4 apartment. It didn’t matter that someone could break through the tree line and jam a knife into your neck.

Clove kissed back with the same amount of fervor, hands slowly rising up to hug your waist.

Fuck. You were ready to throw your life away to make sure she made it out of here. And all it took was her pretty little freckled face and her fiery eyes.

After what seemed to be an eternity, you both pull away for air. You gently brush her cheek with your thumb as she gripped your waist tighter.

“I’m going to make sure you go home, Clove.”

Before she could retort, you both snap out of your little moment as voices approach from behind you.

“Fuck. See, I told you! Wood, my ass! They’re sucking face!”

Marvel’s voice rings through the air and suddenly your three allies are approaching you both, donning similar amused looks.

“I guess this note makes a lot more sense now.”

Cato’s words only serve to confuse you until he holds up a sponsor package along with a note.

‘Tell Y/N that she’s killing me -F’

“He has a flair for dramatics.” Glimmer’s words were just so incredibly ironic that you and the others had to make effort to bury the thought.

“Oh, you have no idea.”

#the hunger games #the hunger games imagine #the hunger games x reader #clove kentwell #clove kentwell x reader #clove kentwell imagine #cato hadley #the hunger games marvel #the hunger games glimmer #district 4 #district 12 #district 2 #district 1

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messedupfan · 4 months

Text

The Hope of a Free World: The Mentor

Summary: After confronting Finnick about the rebellion, you are given the task of mentoring him in the 75th Hunger Games.

A/n: So a little explanation here. You do not have to read both "The Mentor" and "The Tribute" but you do have to read "Prologue." This is sort of my version of a Choose Your Own Adventure because I saw this going both ways when the request was made. You are absolutely welcome to read both versions of the story, but thought I'd let y'all know that you don't have to. I also forgot to warn y'all before but I'm a huge Everlark fan. If you stan Everthorne, not the fic for you.

Warnings: Violence, mentions of suicide, alcoholism, drug abuse, mentions of forced prostitution, rebellion, mentions of torture.

Masterlist | All Stories Taglist | The Prologue

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

When the announcement of the Third Quarter Quell declared that the tributes would be pulled from the existing pool of victors, you were itching for a drink. No, you were itching for the drug you take when you have to entertain a client you don’t like. You wanted to feel numb. You didn’t want to think about having to experience the anxiety of a reaping once again.

You don’t alter your mind to escape the harsh reality. As much as you want to. It still plays with your mind even though you knew this was going to happen. Finnick warned you that this is what their meeting in the Capitol was about. As soon as the broadcast is over, Finnick storms into your house and pulls you out. It needed to look real since your house was most likely bugged. You can hear Annie’s cries from the house they shared as he walks you over. She doesn’t know what’s going on, it’s for the best. According to Finnick, this was the only home in the Victor’s Village that had all of its recording devices removed. He made sure of it.

He threw you on the couch as he began to pull on his hair and mutter to himself. He was really good at putting on a performance. “Mags,” he left and returned with the older woman a few minutes later. That was everyone Annie knew that he could trust in the district.

Finnick doesn’t say anything coherent, mostly muttering to himself. He gives Annie a heavy dose of sleep syrup and he carries her to bed when it kicks in. “Okay,” he starts as he sits in front of you and Mags. No longer putting on the panicked act for Annie. Now she knows he’s talking to you and to Mags. That’s all she needs to know. “Here’s the plan, we’re going to train with each other to fight. But I’m going to need you to stop being anti-social. You haven’t mentored a winning tribute yet and I’m going to need your help in there.”

You nodded even though you hated that your contribution to the rebellion had to be talking to other people. “Well, I thought Mags was going to be there with me,” you remind them nervously as you fiddle with your medallion.

Mags and Finnick exchange a look and your eyes bounce between the two as they both shake their heads. “Sable can’t be trusted. We tried to recruit her without her knowing but she is stuck in her ways. The Capitol hasn’t hurt her the way it has us. She wasn’t ever… desirable in their eyes so she doesn’t know what Snow does to us.” You scowl and shake your head. Even without being prostituted, you’d hoped that a fellow survivor of the Hunger Games would see that this wasn’t a way of life. “Annie… she isn’t an option. Mags is going to have to volunteer in order for this to work,” Finnick concludes. You nod.

“Looks like we have a lot of work to do,” you say with a sigh.

It was more than just combative training and learning how to charm sponsors. It was also learning about your escape out of the Capitol. Wanda even paid a heavy price to be allowed to see you one last time before the reaping just to show you the way the two of you, and anyone else you need to rescue, are going to make it out of there when the arena gets shut down. You couldn’t believe it when you found out that she was part of the resistance. But when she revealed that her motivations were the same as yours, it all made your heart flutter. Neither of you have felt free enough to say the words. Even without hearing her say those three words, you could hear it in the silence. You could feel it on the way home. You didn’t need much more than that for the time being.

At the reaping your heart jumps with anxiety as your name is called. You stand forward as you wait for the process. Volunteers only occur after the reaping winner is introduced to the audience. You make sure to hold your head up high and only drop it when Finnick inevitably volunteers in your place.

There is no time allotted for goodbyes. Which Finnick would have been okay with had they not denied Annie to join. She wasn’t mentally fit to take on the role of a mentor and according to the head Peacekeeper that escorted you, Finnick, and Mags to the train; it was an order given by the President that this year, they only needed one mentor for the tributes. You were still meant to mentor because you hadn’t successfully found your replacement.

Finnick was nervous the entire ride to the Capitol. He knew that it was possible that Annie wouldn’t be allowed to mentor. She was exempt in the past since she was more unstable than others. They developed a system to give her the best life possible but she still held a reputation for not being all there mentally. He hoped that his allies in District 4 would be able to get her out of there. But there was no guarantee.

You tried your best to comfort him but there wasn’t much you could do that wouldn’t give away the mission. That wouldn’t give away their private relationship. You didn’t want to risk exposing them, even if there’s a possibility that President Snow already knows. You weren’t going to do anything that will haunt you to believe it was you who confirmed his suspicions.

Through the training period you are constantly meeting with Haymitch to gauge whether or not he’s been able to convince the Mockingjay and her boy with the bread to team up with your tributes. The three of you nearly jumped for joy when Haymitch informed you that the young woman chose Mags. None of you expected her to want to team with Finnick. His job was to focus on gaining Peeta’s trust. She wasn’t going to team up with anyone without his approval.

Next came the time to shmooze the people in the Capitol placing bets and offering their support as soon as the Hunger Games started. You put every donation into your communicuff so you could eventually afford a gift to send. You pretended to accept many drinks and because you had been drunk plenty of times in the past, you knew how to play the part. Not as well as Haymitch of course. With Haymitch’s help, the two of you were able to get a few parachutes with supplies here and there but the prices are much higher this year since it’s a Quarter Quell and everyone wants to help their favorite former victors. You get lost in the act of cheering on your tributes on the screen and manipulating people into placing their money into your pockets.

On the day that Beetee tells his remaining allies in the arena that he has a plan, you are promptly reminded why you're there to begin with. That’s when you started to get nervous. Knowing that you had to escape without being seen. If you failed, it could mean the end of you and you weren’t ready to sacrifice yourself for the cause yet. The whole reason you joined was to safeguard a future with the woman you loved. It was hard for you to focus, you were so on edge. You jumped every time someone approached you to hand you money to help your team. Any movement had your eyes scanning the crowd for a white suite with a black tinted shield on their helmets with guns pointed at you. There never were any. They remained on the other side of the doors that surrounded the room. The paranoia was eating you alive as if you were in the arena once again.

When they started wrapping the tree with the wire, Wanda finally appeared from the sea of Capitolites. You didn’t know if she was ever in the room before that day but you were more than relieved to see her. “We have to go,” she whispered urgently as she grabbed your hand. You didn’t process fast enough to move so Haymitch tossed a drink in your face.

“I am so sorry, I can be such a clutz,” he grabbed you by your bicep. “Move,” he muttered as he smiled in the direction of the curious eyes that landed on the pair of us. “Nothin’ t’see here folks!” He slurred with a sloppy grin. He was drunk for so long that everyone bought the act.

You began to move and follow Haymitch and Wanda. Haymitch was staggering so the two of you walked out of the area with him leaning on the both of you. The Peacekeepers almost didn’t pay the three of you any mind.

Effie Trinket, the escort for District 12, trailed behind the two of you and she almost spoiled the escape as the Peacekeepers stopped her then asked the three of you to stop as well. “Excuse me, I am the only one with the key to the District 12 penthouse!” The Peacekeeper then asked why she couldn’t take Wanda’s spot in carrying Haymitch to his room and before you could stutter on a response, Effie was quick on her feet. “And risk flattening my feathers,” she scoffed as she clutched her pearls, “I think not!” The Peacekeeper apologized and let all four of you go.

At the first checkpoint, you and Haymitch discard your communicuffs so they can’t track you anymore. But that meant that the four of you had to move faster. They were made to alert authorities when prematurely removed.

There was a little bit of a hiccup in the plan when a man approached Wanda, appearing out of nowhere. Stalling the four of you while he pulled her to the side to talk to her. You send Haymith and Effie off to continue to the rendezvous point as you stay back to ensure that Wanda gets there as well. The man's name was Vision, you overheard her when she asked him to let her go. There seemed to be some sort of history there. He looked like a government official. You couldn’t really tell what his significance was. But when he grabbed Wanda again and threatened to expose her, you did what life in the academy at District 4 raised you to do. He didn’t hear or see you coming when you came up behind him and snapped his neck.

Wanda’s eyes widened but she shook her head and got back into focus. “Let’s go, we have to get out of here now.” You nodded and followed. When you got to the tunnel you were surprised to see a few of the other mentors there as well. You figured that they were on the side of the Capitol since their tributes were but each of them revealed their crackers with the mockingjay symbol on them. You did as well. There was a head count before every person could eat them to get rid of them.

In the small gathering of people with a mix of mentors, camera crew, and what appeared to be Avoxes, Wanda recognized another man and this time she ran into his arms with tears in her eyes. You almost began to think that she had fooled you into believing that you were more than a purchase for her until she pulled away from him and you could get a good look at him.

There was a small conversation once about him. Wanda had pictures of him all over her home and you once asked if she was married. She laughed at first but her expression fell as she realized you were holding a picture frame in your hand. She took the frame and placed it face down on the shelf as she muttered, “He was my twin before he became a traitor.” That was the last time you ever asked about him.

Seeing her beam at him through her tears told you all you needed to know. Even if you were the reason she continued to be part of the rebellion, he was the reason she first sought them out. You couldn’t wait to be able to talk freely with her in District 13. You knew that there were many sides of her that you had yet to explore and you couldn’t wait to get to know her on a much deeper level.

Once everyone boarded the stolen hovercraft you took a deep breath as you hoped that the plan in the arena went down as smoothly. But even if it didn’t, you knew that this was just the beginning of the new world.

District 13 was strict. Each day you had a schedule tattooed on your forearm and you'd face harsh consequences if you didn't obey it. The meals were tasteless and the portions were less than you had gotten used to since becoming a victor. The training regimen was beyond what you were used to but it was the only thing about the district that you enjoyed because it was the easiest adjustment. Not to mention the times you got to spar with Wanda were some of the best foreplay the two of you got to experience.

Unfortunately the two of you didn't get nearly as much time together as either of you hoped. Since you weren't married, they wouldn't let the two of you share a living space together. So she lived with Pietro, while you lived on your own. It was frustrating but you weren't willing to marry her over a distaste for the living arrangement. You wanted to wait until the country was free and so did she.

The schedule allotted thirty minutes for family time. A decent break between the education and training for most of the citizens of District 13. You suppose it gave time to remind those who forget, what they are fighting for exactly. You and Wanda used that time to learn the sign language that the Avoxes use as communication. Wanda felt so disconnected from her twin because she couldn’t communicate with him the way she used to. Pietro was very patient and helpful when it came to the private lessons between the three of you.

“I’m happy to have him back but,” Wanda sighed as she laid in your arms. “I wish I had done something to protect him.”

You frowned as you lightly caressed her arm. You looked at her for a moment and admired her natural beauty. In District 13 appearance wasn't a priority the way that it is in the Capitol and certain districts. Wanda didn't need the wigs or the heavy makeup in order to fit in here. She finally got to be her true self. “There was nothing you could have done for him. If you had tried, you would have ended up just like him. You might not have even gotten here,” you tried to comfort her.

Wanda sat up and faced you, “I um,” she looked down as she started to trace patterns on your chest. “I'm the reason he got in trouble in the first place.”

You made a face, “How so?”

“Vision,” she started and looked at the wall beside her. “The man you killed during our escape. He, uh, we were engaged. He worked in the government and he knew powerful people.” You nodded to show that you were following along when she did finally look at you. “And he witnessed Pietro committing an act of treason. He wasn't going to turn my brother in while we were engaged. I didn't know that he had seen Pietro do something illegal.” You rubbed Wanda's back as she spoke. It was clearly a difficult topic for her. “Vision never did anything out of the kindness of his heart. And he had a bit of a darkside to him that at a certain point, I couldn't handle anymore. So I broke off the engagement. He didn't even ask me to reconsider. He just showed up at my apartment the next day with a warrant and several Peacekeepers.” She closed her eyes as tears started to slip out.

You shook your head as you wiped her tears. “If you had agreed to marry Vision, do you think you'd have been alive today?” Wanda thought for a second before she shook her head. “I think Pietro would tell you that you made the right decision. In fact, I'd put my money on that being the first thing he tells you when you can understand him. I mean, he was so incredibly happy to see you again. If he didn't care about you, he would have held a grudge.”

“I suppose you're right,” she sighed as she rested against you again. The two of you fell asleep shortly after. And you were right.

Pietro was eventually given a communication tablet because during a strategy meeting, he had written down brilliant ideas. President Coin and commander Boggs both agreed that Pietro needed to be able to speak up in a way that everyone could understand. Beetee developed a chip that was implanted in Pietro’s head. So the words appear on the tablet as fast as he can think them. He was even given options to either have it turned off completely or partially. Like if he wanted to have a private conversation, he could turn the voice option off and hand the tablet to the other person. And if he wanted to keep his thoughts private, he could turn the tablet off completely and not worry about a single thought being recorded or heard.

The first thing he told Wanda was that he doesn’t blame her for what happened to him and that he is proud to see her as a happy and free woman. She sobbed and held onto him for the duration of the family time break.

Finnick wasn't successful in retrieving both assets from the arena which made the progression of the rebellion slow down. He was able to get the girl out but not the boy. Johanna claimed that the girl was annoying before, but without Peeta she was insufferable. You couldn't imagine what she was going through. You were grateful that you weren't in her shoes. That you had Wanda with you.

You tried to stay out of everything that concerned the Mockingjay and being a face of the revolution. You figured that the girl would snap out of it and realize that it was bigger than her. But eventually they started to look at you and Johanna. Finnick was willing to participate until the night that Annie was executed on live television at the District 4 Justice Building with four other confirmed rebels. The ones that were meant to help her escape the district. He tried to join her in the after life but you found him in time and got him to the infirmary.

You cried in Wanda's arms that night for the loss of your friends. You knew that Finnick won't ever be the same.

So the responsibility of the propos fell onto you and Johanna. She was great at acting for the camera. You remember that’s how she was able to win her first games. No one thought the shy dainty girl from District 7 stood a chance in the arena until she got her hands on an axe.

Most of her propos were filmed on a soundstage. She had a blue baton and fought against the soldiers dressed in Peacekeeper uniforms. Then she'd recite the lines perfectly. But there was something missing. You couldn't put your finger on it. But she wasn't inspiring. She was impressive. But she didn't have what Katniss had. And neither did you.

You were a little more clumsy in your propo performances. You'd miss your marks and fumble on your lines. Luckily, with enough takes they were able to scramble something together. But it didn't have the fire it needed. It wasn't enough to inspire people to risk their lives for a cause that started to feel like it was dying.

“It's not dying, it's just,” Wanda fails to come up with another term after you've expressed your concerns with her. She holds your face in her hands as she climbs onto your lap. Her eyes traveled along your face. She was searching for something. You didn't know what. “I can help you with your lines. Just, get me clearance to be with you during the day. You can do it. You can keep this revolution alive. I've seen that fire in you. You just need to have the right motivations.”

You smirk, “I’m assuming that you believe that's you?” Wanda smacks your shoulder and you laugh as you kiss her cheek and trap her as she tries to escape your arms. “I'm kidding. I love you,” you said as you gazed into her eyes. Wanda froze in your arms. It was the first time you'd said the words out loud. She didn't know what she expected to feel when she finally heard those words from you, but she didn't expect to feel so much at once. She felt joy, she felt love, she also felt a deep fear.

With tearful eyes, she leaned in and kissed your lips. “I love you too,” she whispered against your lips. The two of you made slow and passionate love that night. Telling each other how much you'd felt for each other.

Wanda was right, with her as your director, you had the proper motivations for your filming. Plutarch was ecstatic with the new footage and things in the districts started to get rowdy again. People began to get motivated again.

Things in District 13 started to feel a little more claustrophobic with the successes of your propos. Strangers would thank you and request autographs. Women would invade your personal space. Wanda would step in their way whenever she was around but she couldn't be by your side twenty-four seven.

One of the times that a girl tried to kiss you, you were able to slip away and ran into an open vent to hide from her. That's where you found Katniss curled in a ball muttering to herself. “Sorry,” you said when she was startled by your presence. “I didn't mean to scare you, I just…” you cleared your throat and fiddled with your medallion. “I thought people here in Thirteen would have more boundaries than those in the Capitol but I guess horniness is a universal problem.” You tried to joke and you only got met with her glare.

You nodded once and took a deep breath as you braced yourself for what you might face when you climbed out. But then a nurse started to call for Katniss. The girl curled up further and you instinctively blocked the nurse's view of Katniss with your body. “Sergeant, you shouldn't be in here,” the nurse grumbled. “Is Ms. Everdeen in there with you?”

“I'm offended by that question. She is a married woman, and way too young for me,” you acted out dramatically. “I don't know if you’ve noticed, but I prefer someone a tad older than me. Don't tell her I said that though. She likes to keep her age a secret. But I mean come on simple math-”

“What are you doing in there?” The nurse asked sharply as she interrupted your rambling.

You hold up your medallion and the light of her flashlight bounces off of it. “I tripped walking and had to look for this,” you explained. “It's one of a kind. Couldn't risk losing it.”

“Well since you've found it, you can leave. This is a favorite spot for the Mockingjay to hide. No one has seen her for hours,” the nurse explained.

“Well, you're going to have to look somewhere else because she's not here,” you stressed as you stayed in your position. You were afraid if you moved, you would risk exposing that Katniss was also inside.

The nurse turns off the flashlight and leaves. You listened to her heavy footsteps and waited until you couldn't hear her. “Why did you do that?” Katniss startled you.

You yelped and held your hand to your chest as you dropped your coin. “Shit, Everdeen. Warn a person,” you patted the ground and your heart didn't stop racing until your fingers wrapped around the familiar metal. “I did it because I get needing a breather from all of the chaos out there. Besides, since you're out of commission, the rest of us have had to fill in for you. Let me tell you, I do not envy you. But I do sympathize with you.”

“What are you talking about?” Katniss scowled at you.

“They need a face of the revolution. Panem needs your face but they've been settling for mine and Jo’s,” you elaborated with a small laugh. “Let me tell you, I think I'm steering people in the wrong direction. I've had people approach me for a good time more than thanking me for trying to keep this revolution alive,” you shook your head as you stared at your medallion.

“I have had to endure listening to the nurses gush about you,” Katniss muttered. You snorted. “I almost wished I could go back into the arena. It wasn't as painful.”

“Believe me, no one wishes they could return to the arena more than I do,” you said quietly. “If I could've warned my younger self, I probably would have told him to not win,” you admit. Then you sigh. “But then I wouldn't have gotten to experience all of the good things I've managed to experience in my life.”

“Ah, I've heard that you were quite popular with the citizens of the Capitol. I'm sure there's no regrets there when everyone wants to sleep with you, and has,” Katniss replied sarcastically. You're sure that she thought it was a harmless remark. She had no idea the weight of her words. So you gave her some grace.

“Trust me Katniss, there's plenty of regrets there,” you said as you looked at her. “You're lucky to be ignorant to the true life of a victor. Especially someone as desirable as you.”

Katniss rolled her eyes, “I'm far from desirable.”

“A lot of my buyers would disagree,” you scoffed.

“Buyers?” Katniss questioned but you couldn't explain it. So you shook your head.

“Let's get you back to the infirmary,” you said as you offered her your hand. “You need to get better,” you said with a soft tone.

Katniss stared at your hand as the red emergency light shined on it, then looked at you with tears in her eyes. She shook her head. “I don't deserve to. Not when Peeta…” she couldn't finish her sentence and you nodded.

“You can't save him if you don't get better,” you tried to encourage her. “If you want them to arrange a rescue mission, you have to give Coin what she wants.”

“Coin?” She squeaked out in confusion.

The corner of your lips stretched up slightly. “She's the president of this district. Alma Coin is her full name,” you inform her.

“Oh,” Katniss nodded. Then she accepted your hand and the two of you left the space. But once the two of you were in the hallway, Katniss wouldn't move. “I can't go back. I… the hallucinations… I can't.”

“Hallucinations?” You frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“The drugs, I don't know. Whatever they use to sedate me. It's,” Katniss failed to continue then was interrupted when Gale Hawthorne spotted the two of you.

“Katniss, there you are,” he said as he jogged down the corridor. As he got closer he slowed down and scowled at you. “I knew you weren't picky but I didn't think you were a predator,” he glared at you as he pulled Katniss away from you.

“Gale,” Katniss snapped at him as he stood between the two of you. “Leave Y/n alone. We weren't doing anything. Let's go.”

“Stay away from her,” Gale nearly growled at you. At the moment you refrained from laughing but later that night, you and Wanda couldn't stop laughing about it.

A couple of days after that, while you were sitting with Wanda and Pietro in the mess hall, a blonde girl in her early teens dressed as one of the nurses tapped your shoulder. It took you a moment to recognize Primrose Everdeen but after she claimed that her sister requested to see you after lunch, you were able to put the pieces together. Wanda encouraged you to go so you did.

When you met with Katniss, she wanted you to catch her up to speed with everything that had been going on. She didn't know who she could trust but she didn't think you'd lie to her. Gale treated her like she could break at any second. She didn't care to see her mentor or her district escort. Prim would go on and on about her day whenever she tended to Katniss, she didn't have any important information. The girl was in medical training. You seemed to be the best option.

And you proved to be. You would sit by her side for thirty minutes each day, catching her up on any information that you thought she should know. She appreciated the honesty.

She eventually got discharged from the infirmary. At her first meeting with Coin and Plutarch she requested that you were nearby. She was in there for about five minutes before she stormed out of the room. A week later, she was being dropped off in her home district. Plutarch's way of reminding the Mockingjay what's at stake. You were left behind to train, not that you minded. You weren't ever good at being a mentor. You don't know why you had the misfortune of being the one to find her that day. But the teenager seemed to have attached herself to you like a lost puppy.

When she returned from District 12, she asked you to help her with a list of demands. She said her sister suggested it and that was the first time you wished that you were in her position. During the lunch hour, she sat with you and Wanda and Pietro. Wanda was hoping that Katniss wouldn't recognize her since she's almost positive she offended the girl while doing her job when she had a job in the Capitol. Luckily, Katniss never put it together. Pietro would chime in with a suggestion or two and Katniss was grateful for the input. After her meeting with President Coin she confirmed that she accepted her role as the Mockingjay.

Eventually Katniss began to rely a lot more on others. She developed a closer relationship with Johanna to the point that she requested to be roommates with her. You laughed when Johanna told you that Katniss wasn't as bad as she originally made her out to be. With Katniss needing you less, you were able to allocate time for Finnick. He was in horrible shape from losing the love of his life in such a horrific way.

“I'm kind of glad she's dead,” he'd said one day as he focused his attention on his rope. “At least she's not being tortured. At least it's all over for her. She suffered for a long time. She's not in pain anymore.” It hurt you to hear the lifeless tone from the man that brought life to so much. He was the one to remind so many that through tragedy, there was still so much good. He's the one that snapped you out of your darkness. He had suffered so much for so long and he never let it show until Annie was executed. His words hurt for many reasons. That Annie was also your friend who could be quite funny and lively when she was stable. That she was someone anyone with a heart wanted to protect whenever she wasn't.

At the mention of how she suffered, you recall a day at the market. It was just you and Annie. She was rattling on and on about some recipe she was trying to remember. She was slightly frustrated because she couldn't remember a certain ingredient. When you began to list off any ingredients that you could think of, a fake spear nearly hit Annie in the face. It would have made contact had you not caught it in time. The kids that were messing with the toy were very apologetic until Annie started screaming. People around began to panic as Annie had a melt down and all you could think to do was to shield her away from everyone. Others who were sympathetic to her condition helped you get through the crowded market while you carried her. It took her a month to snap out of it. You stopped by to check on her each day and Finnick allowed an hour visit each time. She would sit in her bed and stare blankly at the wall. She wouldn't speak. She'd hardly blink. You then knew that there was no such thing as a victor. There were only survivors.

Sitting with Finnick was a lot like that. He wouldn't talk much and when he did speak, you almost wished you hadn't been there to hear it.

On the day that Peeta was finally broadcast in an interview with Caesar Flickerman, Katniss rose up from her table where she was sitting with her mom and sister. She had a look you'd seen many times from Finnick and Annie and you felt that same protectiveness. She shouldn't have had to experience that moment so publicly. You pulled her out of the cafeteria and took her to a private area to watch Peeta's interview.

There weren't a lot of areas with private television access but you were able to shoo people out of a control room to allow Katniss the privacy. You stood outside the door to prevent anyone from going inside. You didn't run inside until you heard her screams. You wrapped your body around her and taught her how to breathe again until she calmed down.

Shortly after that, Katniss started to do her propos. You asked Wanda to help direct her because she was so helpful with you. But when Effie caught wind of the possibility of a replacement, she swooped in. Unfortunately for her, Katniss wasn't an actor. She gave terrible delivery of her lines and her body language was too stiff. Even with Wanda’s notes, Katniss's performances were silly. Then they tested adding you and Johanna to help carry the weight. The two of you read the lines and Katniss was only meant to be seen and not heard. But it still wasn't enough.

It wasn't until Haymitch walked in with his sarcastic claps that the team was able to put together what gave the Mockingjay her flare. She had to be in action. Her emotions had to be raw and real. Not with silly weapons and pretend fighting. Coin was resistant to letting the stars out into the front lines but Commander Boggs and Plutarch were able to convince her.

Wanda wasn't too thrilled about you going out to fight either. The last thing she wanted to do was risk losing you. “I know that it's important but,” Wanda stands in the corner of your living quarters. “You have to swear to me that you're coming back here in one piece.”

“Wanda, it's going to be safe,” you said as you crossed the room and took her face in your hands with a light touch. “You heard the details of the mission. They're only sending us to a refuge hospital in District Eight. We won't encounter a battle. We’ll be far from it. Besides, I hear Beetee has whipped up some badass weapons that aren't just for show.” She cracked a smile and you kissed her. The two of you leaned your foreheads against one another with your eyes shut for a moment as you held each other's hands.

“Come back to me,” she whispered.

“I promise, I always will.”

The following day Beetee invited you, Katniss, Gale, and Johanna to his laboratory where he presented the new weapons for each of you. For Katniss he had a sleek black bow that hummed with life whenever she held it in position. She used a normal arrow to practice and according to her, the bow helped her with accuracy. Not that she had a problem with that according to Gale. He was given a crossbow that seemed to have similar features to Katniss's bow. The bows came equipped with two types of special arrows. One had explosives and the other had fire.

Johanna was given an especially sharp axe with nanotechnology that reshapes itself in order to stay that way. She was given a special glove with it. If she threw it too far, she was able to call it back to her no matter what it was stuck in or how far away it was. She thought it was a dumb idea at first and she was scared to even test it out since she couldn't trust that the axe wouldn't land in her hand the wrong way. But after a couple of run throughs, she couldn't wait to be given the chance to use the weapon.

Next you were given a special trident. There was a second one made just like it for Finnick and it hurt you that he wasn't healthy enough to be doing this with you. After all, he was part of this long before you were.

“The metal used for your trident and Johanna’s axe aren't of this planet. There isn't a metal stronger than this,” Beetee explained as you questioned why the trident was so light. You'd never wielded a trident so light since you were a child. You'd believed you were duped until you cut a test dummy's head clean off with barely a motion.

“Why aren't our arrowheads made with the same material?” Gale asked with a scowl.

“It's the rarest metal on earth, bigfoot,” a man appeared seemingly out of nowhere as he tapped away on a tablet. “Explosives aren't enough for you?” He shakes his head. “We only had enough material for the Mockingjay suit, the axe, and the tridents.”

“Wait, you mean to tell me that Katniss gets a special suit and the rest of us are vulnerable?” Johanna asked next. It wasn't fair.

“Take it up with Cinna. Oh wait, you can't,” the man said in reference to the designer's death.

“What does Cinna have to do with this metal?” Katniss asked.

“It came from his ancestors. He said the metal was called vibranium. He only had a limited supply of the pure metal and he had enough of its fabric to make the Mockingjay armor. I only fulfilled his dying wishes,” the man said.

“Meet Tony Stark, everyone,” Beetee introduces the man. “He is almost as intelligent as I am.”

“Charming,” Tony rolled his eyes at the man. “If you don't mind, some of us have real work to do.” He took the trident from your hands. “May I?” He said as he walked away without a response from you. He walked around the lab and took apart the rod. You figured that whatever he was up to with the weapon was only going to benefit you.

The trident ended up being very useful in District 8 when the Peacekeepers attacked the hospital.

Arriving at District 8, the group was brought inside a formerly abandoned warehouse. The entrance hall of the building was lined with stacks of casualties. You nearly threw up at the smell. Gale did have to step aside to vomit. Paylor commented that everyone will get used to the smell. You couldn't believe these were the conditions for those that couldn't make it to District 13. You had no idea how good you'd had it in that district until you walked into the main area of the warehouse.

It was full of sick and injured and dying men, women, and children. Those who weren't at risk of losing their lives were tending to those that were. It was eye opening. This was the cost of war. It made you queasy again. You nearly fainted. But you didn't want them to waste any of their supplies on you. So you continued to stand tall.

The first sighting of Katniss had the people stunned. They hadn't seen her until that point. No one outside of Thirteen had. An elderly woman asked her about her baby after she agreed that she was going to fight. You hadn't thought about the fact that Peeta had shocked everyone on the night of the interviews with the news of their private nuptials and baby announcement. It appeared that Katniss might've forgotten about that as well but she recovered quickly. She stated that she lost the baby.

Shortly after that Cressida, a director from the Capitol, was raving about the footage she got of Katniss and of the rest of you meeting refugees and handing them supplies they needed. Plutarch thought it would be more effective if the team was sent with gifts and not just gifting the injured with the presence of the Mockingjay. You and Johanna were whispering inside jokes to each other about how Gale didn't look at Katniss like they were related. Then the jokes turned into claims that the rumors of their home districts incest problems might not be rumors. Gale heard that one and turned around to say something. That's when the first bomb hit. The team sprung into action to get out of the building and that's when everyone saw the hovercrafts with the Capitol emblems on them. Katniss and Gale moved to get higher in order to shoot them down with their special arrows. You tried to shoot them down with the standard issue machine gun they provided you in case something like this happened but it was just a waste of bullets once an arrow took one of the crafts down.

A squad of Peacekeepers appeared and were firing their weapons. As you dove for cover, Johanna threw her axe. The weapon cut off three heads of Peacekeepers before it got stuck in a cement wall. On your hip, your trident was closed into a simple rod. You pulled it out and clicked a button that allowed it to expand out and reveal its sharp metal. You accidentally tapped another button and the blades became electrified.

“Cool,” Johanna muttered as she watched your weapon become even deadlier. She caught her axe in her hand and together the two of you charged at the Peacekeepers. Taking multiple down at a time. Not stopping until the last one was gone. Unfortunately, even with all of the effort to stop the attack, the makeshift hospital was gone.

You were devastated by the sight. As was Katniss. She gave a harrowing speech into the camera as a Capitol ship burned behind her. She pointed to it and shouted, “If we burn! You burn with us!”

Wanda ran into your arms as soon as you stepped out of the hovercraft.

“I heard there was a attack in Eight. I thought, I thought,” she shook as she failed to finish her sentence.

“It's okay,” you whispered as you held her just as tight. “I'm okay.”

Katniss watched you and Wanda. She remembered having a similar feeling in her first games when she heard the cannon go off and she couldn't find Peeta. Again when his heart stopped in the second games. She felt it recently when she saw Peeta on television for the first time since they'd been separated. She looked at Gale and wondered if she'd feel that kind of fear if his life was at stake. She knows she'd be afraid to lose him. But would she feel the same desperation she felt for Peeta? She didn't know. She did know that she the first impressions of you that she had before were completely wrong. She thought that, much like Finnick, you were just another victor that used their fame and riches to sleep with everyone and anyone. There was a lot of coverage of it in the years since you'd won. But watching the way you were with Wanda. She realized there was something a lot more to you than that.

“When you said your buyers would disagree,” Katniss started as the two of you walked around the woods. She was in an argument with Gale because of what Peeta was being forced to say on television. Katniss still wanted to hunt but she wasn't allowed to without at least one other person with her. She invited Johanna but she said she'd rather be burned alive because at least that torture ended in death. So she asked you and you didn't feel up to dancing in front of another camera so you agreed. “What did you mean by that?”

“I shouldn't have said that to you,” you said as you kept on walking.

“Well you did and I want to know what that meant,” Katniss pressed on as she followed.

“Why? It's not important,” you tried to move on from the subject and when she asked again you stopped walking. You turned to her and sighed. “Katniss, what I'm about to tell you isn't… It's not something you'll be able to easily forget. Are you sure that you want to know?”

Katniss nodded her head, “Yes, I need to know. I can't stop thinking about it. Why would you have buyers?”

“Because of Snow,” you stated with a shrug. “I wasn't the only one. There are, sorry, were other victors that were auctioned off to the highest bidders. Those that were found to be… desirable in the eyes of Capitol citizens or officials were forced to comply. Snow allowed us access to certain drugs that took the edge off, made the meetings bearable. But if we ever resisted, he would kill someone that we cared about. It happened to Finnick. It happened to Johanna. It happened to me. So, Katniss, when I say that you are lucky. I mean that you are lucky,” you stated before turning and walking on.

“I don't get it. Why would he do that?” Katniss eventually asked after a while. She had gone silent after your speech and you felt bad for your snarky comment. You hardly knew what she had to endure, she was from a poor district. She'd been in the Hunger Games twice. It wasn't a fair statement.

You shrugged at her question, “To remind us that we're still just as powerless as we were before we won? I don't know.”

Katniss stopped you from walking further and turned you to face her. She scanned your face with her eyes then she hugged you. “I'm sorry you had to go through that,” she said against your chest. You responded to the hug by wrapping your arms around her and rubbing her back.

“It's over now,” you stated before pulling away.

“How did you manage to find someone to love through all of that? How did you allow yourself to open up to someone that way?” Katniss asked.

You smiled as you thought about the first time you met Wanda. “Love isn't something that you find or that you decide whether or not to accept. Not when it's true. The kind of love that I have with Wanda, it snuck up on me. I never expected it and I don't think she did either. I tried to fight it, of course. She did as well, I mean I might've been a victor but I was still from the districts. Falling for me was a giant risk for her. Not just career wise but her life was at stake as well. But eventually neither of us could deny it,” you shook your head.

“Wanda isn't from District Four?” Katniss asked dumbly.

You laughed, “She's going to kill me when I tell you this because she thinks she might've offended you when she was doing her job but no, she isn't from Four. She's from the Capitol. She used to do the gossip segment for Capitol TV.”

Katniss's eyes widened in recognition. “Now I remember her. Wow, I cannot believe I didn't recognize her. She's so human now.”

You nodded, “Yeah, she hated her job but it's what more than paid the bills.”

“It must’ve been difficult to protect that love,” she sympathized. “Talk about star-crossed lovers,” she muttered.

You stared at her for a moment as you considered asking all of the questions that had been swarming your mind long before you even met her. “You and your cousin?”

Katniss sighed through her nose as she looked at you, “He’s not my cousin. He – I don’t quite know what he is to me right now.”

You nodded and bit your lips. “You and Peeta,” you started and Katniss’s eyes darted to the ground, “What, uh, was any of that real?”

Katniss shook her head then she nodded then she shook her head more. “I don’t know. I’ve told myself a dozen times that it was just about survival but… I don’t know.” You nodded. You understood how complicated feelings could be. “Snow didn’t make it any easier.”

You frowned as your eyebrows knitted together. “What do you mean?”

Katniss took a deep breath, “He told me that if I couldn’t convince him and the rest of the country that my moment with berries was an act of love and not an act of defiance… he’d well, he made it seem like he’d kill everyone I cared about but instead he just sent us back into the games.” She looked off to the distance. “He wanted to avoid all of this.” She shook her head again. “I thought he was crazy. I didn’t think that my decision to save the person that saved my family and I when we were preteens would cause all of this.”

“Katniss,” you started, you wanted to tell her that there was so much more to this. But it wouldn’t be much comfort to know that every person has just been a pawn in these games. “Let’s just focus on hunting. That’s something that does a lot more good than bad, right?”

Katniss nodded as she started walking again.

After that the two of you were able to kill two giant elks. It took a lot to carry down to the kitchen but somehow the two of you managed. The two of you were sharing a laugh when a broadcast of Peeta came onto the screens in the cafeteria. He looked worse than the first time they showed him. Katniss covered her mouth at the sight. You shut your eyes as you tried to push away the thoughts of what they could be doing to the poor boy. It wasn't fair.

He was once again calling for a cease fire. Well the first time he was asking for one. This time he was begging for Katniss to stop. You shook your head at his words. You have no idea what you would do in his position.

The next propo recorded was Katniss's idea. She wanted to show Peeta what happened to their district. So the film crew went out to District 12 to film Katniss and Gale. You and Johanna were forced to go just in case there was another attack. It would look good for the cameras.

Katniss and Gale walked around what was left of their home district, which was nothing but ashes. Bodies were melted together and you could imagine their despair as they tried to run out of the district. Katniss told the cameras what building used to be where in what used to be the town square. She stood on what once was Peeta Mellark's childhood home. Gale then told the cameras how the bombing went down. He claimed that the Mellark's had no chance to get out of there as some of the first bombs hit around the bakery.

The footage ended up saving many lives. They intercepted another interview with Peeta and he looked much worse than before. He heard Katniss's song as Beetee and Tony disrupted the broadcast and warned her that everyone would be dead by the morning. The footage ended with Peeta being knocked out with the butt of a rifle. The camera fell as his blood splattered on the floor.

The district had to evacuate even further into the Earth. They had a bunker just in case the Capitol tried to bomb the already underground district again. You stayed with Wanda and Pietro as the bombs shook the planet. It was hours before the walls stopped shaking. It might've been all night but without any way to track the time, it didn't really matter. People just wanted it to stop.

Once the hovercrafts were cleared, a team of volunteers were sent to rescue Peeta. Gale was the first to volunteer, you were the second. Despite Wanda’s protests, you had to go. You had to help especially after Katniss had a meltdown. She was just like Annie. You couldn't save but maybe you could save Peeta. You couldn’t help Finnick, but you hoped you could help Katniss.

The mission wasn’t easy. You knew it wouldn’t be. Peacekeepers were everywhere. If you hadn’t had a weapon so special, you don’t think you’d have made it out alive. Getting out of the Capitol was nearly impossible but somehow the team managed to get out with only a couple casualties. When you returned, you had to face the wives and husbands of those that didn’t make it back. You don’t think you’ll ever forget their screams for those they lost. Just another reason to wake up in the middle of the night.

Wanda wouldn’t open the door when you went to visit her. At breakfast the next morning she wouldn’t look at you. At lunch she sat close to you but still refused to address your presence. By dinner, she decided to forgive you for volunteering to go on the possible suicide mission. She hugged your bruised and cut up body and glared at you when you winced.

“You wouldn’t be in pain if you’d of stayed,” she said and you smiled as you kissed her scowl.

“I love you too.” She rolled her eyes as she continued to lean against you. “I told you that I’d always come back.”

Wanda sighed deeply, “I hate that I fell in love with someone that’d risk their life to save the world. But I can’t ask you to stop.” She moved your overgrown hair behind your ear. “That hope in your heart is what made me fall in the first place.”

“You really set yourself up for failure didn’t you?” You asked with a grin as you also moved locks of her hair behind her ear.

“Gag, I’m trying to eat here,” Pietro’s tablet went off and he quickly fumbled with trying to turn it off as you and Wanda laughed.

With Peeta in the infirmary, Katniss began to ignore her schedule. She spent her training hours in his room. She didn’t want him to feel alone since none of his family made it out. A friend of his, Delly Cartwright, did make it to District 13. She was visiting when Katniss wasn’t. Peeta was in terrible shape when he was rescued. It was months before he was well enough to be released and in that time more districts became free from the ruling of the Capitol.

You were only sent to other districts when they wanted to film supplies being distributed to them. To show that District 13 cared. You felt off about it but it kept you off of the frontlines where you could be safe. And since the Mockingjay was refusing to do much outside of helping Peeta back to health, there wasn’t much else expected of the Star Squad. The nickname for the squad of victors that always had the cameras on them.

You would visit Finnick when you could in order to get him to eat after he’d nearly starved himself to death. You were kind and paitient with him until one day you unleashed your frustration with him.

“I’m so sick of your pity party Finnick!” You shouted after he just went on and on about wanting to be dead. “Do you know how much medical supplies they’ve wasted to keep you alive? You’re not even grateful!” You started to pace the room.

“I never asked them to -” he began to shout back.

“Well too damn bad! They did! I promised Annie that I would always be there for you and I’ll be damned if you make me break that promise!”

“She’s dead! What she wanted doesn’t matter anymore!”

“Of course it matters!” You shouted back just as desperate. “Finnick, she loved you. And you loved her! She's gone and you're still here. It’s not fair. None of this is fair. But if you were out there, you would see how selfish you've been! If you had a conversation with ten people here, you'd find out that more than half of them have lost the loves of their lives and they are still fighting!” You shook your head at him. “I've been patient with you but you're pathetic. And I can't keep doing this anymore,” you left the room.

You didn't see him again until a few months later when he walked into the training room. He looked healthier than the last time you'd seen him. Finnick wouldn't go near you but you didn't mind. You preferred that he hated you. It meant he was alive.

“We need something to celebrate,” Plutarch said as he eyed Katniss and Peeta. The two were always seen together. If you spotted one alone, the other wasn't too far behind. You teased her about it during training once and she jabbed you in the ribs with a baton. You stopped teasing her whenever there was a weapon around. “We were thinking of a wedding…” he kept moving his eyes towards the clueless teens.

Katniss shrugged when she felt his eyes on her, “That's not a terrible idea. Who's getting married?” You shook your head as you failed to hide your amusement.

“You're not serious?” You look at Plutarch and Coin. “You're going to force those kids to fake their marriage a second time?”

“Well, seeing as they already claimed-”

“Wait us?” Katniss finally caught up.

“I don't know guys,” Peeta started.

“Hear us out-” Plutarch tried to explain again.

“Ugh, please stop,” Johanna cut in with a roll of her eyes. “It's already been done. We can't keep spinning this broken record. I'd sooner gouge my eyes out than attend their wedding.”

“That's not-” Katniss frowned.

“No one was asking you, Johanna,” Plutarch finally got a full sentence in.

You looked over at Wanda as you considered volunteering. She met your eyes and subtly shook her head. You sighed and turned to the table. “What about Johanna and…” your eyes scanned the room. You smirked as they landed on the glowering raven haired grey eyed man sitting across from Katniss and Peeta. “Gale,” you grinned. “Cressida has said that he has a face for the camera. And come on, what’s more unifying than a miner from Twelve marrying a lumberjack from Seven?” You could have sworn that you saw smoke coming out of Gale's ears. “Shows that we're all the same.”

“That's not a bad idea,” Finnick chimed in.

“Screw you, where'd you come from anyway?” Johanna snapped at her friend.

“I'm just saying, no one would expect it,” Finnick shrugged.

President Coin leaned forward on the table. She looked at each face then she said, “No. It has to be the Mockingjay.”

“Why?” You challenged her.

“Excuse me?” Coin stared at you directly.

“Why does it have to be her? She's a kid,” you doubled down. “If you make them get married, you're no better than Snow.” The room went silent. No one has challenged the president so openly before. They weren't sure what they were supposed to do.

“We'll do it,” Katniss said. “Don't punish Y/n. I've confided in them a lot and they're only trying to protect me.” She defended you. “Which I appreciate,” she turns to address you directly, “but it's not necessary. Besides, what's another fake wedding?” She looked at Peeta who appeared to be very displeased by the news.

“Excuse me,” Peeta rose from his seat and left the room. Katniss stood up and Haymitch stopped her.

“Let him be,” the older man said gruffly. She sat back down as she watched the door.

“Perfect!” Plutarch clapped his hands. “Perfect! We'll get a move on. We only have a couple of weeks to pull this off!” He gathered his notes and walked off with his team.

You didn’t want any part of the fake wedding because it made you uncomfortable. The thought of making the two teenagers continue to put on a show when they still didn't know what they wanted. It also made you look at the president of District 13 differently. When you first arrived, you thought she wanted true change. As you got to work under her for an extended period of time you began to question if she was just as power hungry as Snow was.

Unfortunately, you couldn't stay away from the wedding party. Since District 12’s traditions weren't something that were celebratory or entertaining enough. They are private and intimate. And there isn’t enough in District 13 to spare for a Captiol type wedding. It was too risky to hold it in the woods which is something that comes from the District 7 traditions. Finnick offered up District 4 traditions which are a little more extravagant than District 12 but were doable compared to District 7 and Capitol traditions. That brought on your involvement in the whole endeavor. You kept trying to pass responsibilities off to Finnick but he was having to catch up on training since it’d been close to a year since he was rotting away in the infirmary.

Wanda thought your wedding planning persona was cute. She’d never seen you throw yourself into something so much before. Considering that before the rebellion she only saw you for a few hours every few months, she was happy to learn about any side of you. She kissed your cheek when you were doing a seating chart that made the most sense visually.

“Is this how you'll be when we get married?” Wanda asked as she leaned her head against your shoulder.

“Oh, we're going to get married, are we?” You retorted as you erased a name from the chart and wrote it somewhere else.

Wanda rubbed your other shoulder as she smiled. “Of course we are,” she kisses your cheek again. “I don't join rebellions for just anyone, you know?”

You made a face. “I thought you did this for Pietro.” She walked in front of you and sat on your lap as she wrapped her arms around your neck.

“What happened to him made me realize how unfair the system is and I wished I could do something to change it.” She held your face in her hands and played with your hair as she held your eye contact. You loved getting lost in those enchanting hazel green eyes. “I didn't get involved until the night I realized I loved you. I remember it so vividly, I nearly thought my heart was going to explode out of my chest.” She grabbed your hand and held it over her chest. She shook her head. “You were fast asleep but for a moment I couldn't tell if you were breathing. Then I imagined that you died and just the mere thought,” her eyes teared up and you reached up with your free hand to cradle her face. “I never thought I was capable of loving someone as much as I love you.”

You felt yourself getting choked up by her confession of love. “I, wow,” you reacted with tears on the brim of your eyes. “I had no idea you felt so deeply about me.” You pressed your hand against her chest. “I am lucky that you trust me with your heart.” You leaned your head against hers and closed your eyes. “I hope I'm worth all of this death and destruction to you.”

Wanda nuzzled against you and pulled you closer to her at your words. “You are worth the hope of a brighter future. That's what I'm fighting for.” The two of you held onto each other for a long time. You got lost in the moment with her. You felt your heart beat in time with hers. Even though she didn't want to marry you at the time, you felt as though your souls connected that day as a promise of forever.

At the wedding, everyone read from scripts that Effie and Plutarch wrote together. It was a cheesy and silly wedding. There were moments that made the event feel real. Like when Peeta teared up as Katniss was walked down the aisle by her sister, Primrose. Or when Katniss got choked up and went off script at the start. Not a single word she said was fabricated. Peeta didn't read his lines either.

The unifying kiss lasted a bit longer than it should have. It made you happy to see that Katniss was making a complicated situation a little less complicated. She looked happy. So did Peeta. So did everyone else. The celebration after felt real. People danced and sang. You and Wanda got to have a moment on the dance floor as well. You held her so close as the two of you swayed together at a slow song. You moved with her as the dance became a little more elaborate and the music became upbeat. There was laughter where there used to be quiet whispers. It was a bright occasion.

Which was nice to have the memory of the celebration when the war began to take a turn. The Capitol had yet to be overturned. They began to draft as many able bodied men and women to become Peacekeepers in order to infiltrate the more radicalized districts. Attacking when they least expected.

In Thirteen, they began to release soldiers that passed their final exams to districts the second they passed. At a certain point it began to feel like they rigged the system in order to send the troops out as fast as possible. There were, however, certain soldiers that couldn't leave for a reason or another. Like Pietro was an asset to the war room which they kept him locked away in for the majority of his days. Or if a soldier had a certain medical condition that prevented them from leaving.

You didn't feel that you were ready when you finished your exam but you sat in your living quarters as you stared at your assignment. Wanda walked in after her exam and sat on the bed with you. She laid her head on your shoulder as she frowned down at your papers. “That's what one of those looks like,” she muttered. You made a face as you noticed she was empty handed.

“You're not going on a mission?” You asked as you moved your arm to set your hand on her hip.

“No,” she said as she nuzzled into your side more. “I didn't pass. I, um, I guess they found… something,” she shook her head and pulled away from you. “I have a medical condition that prevents me from going.”

Your eyes widened with fear. “What’s wrong, Wanda? Are you going to be okay?”

Wanda smiled with tears in her eyes, “I'm going to be just fine. Don't you worry about me. I-” She was interrupted by a knock.

Commander Boggs stood at the door with two other soldiers. “I'm here to personally retrieve you. It seems as though the Mockingjay made plans of her own yesterday. We leave in a half hour. Say your goodbyes now.” He stepped away and shut the door as a courtesy.

You turned to Wanda with a pounding heart. You didn't want to leave without knowing that you would be coming back to her. “Wanda, I love you. I can't lose you. Please tell me, this medical condition isn't serious.”

Wanda held both of your hands in hers. “Y/n. I'm fine. I'm better than fine. I will tell you everything when you come back to me. Because you will come back to me, right?”

You nodded and pulled her into a tight hug. Then you kissed her lips and memorized the way her soft lips felt against yours. With your eyes closed, you leaned your forehead against hers and whispered, “I will always come back to you.” You promised just as Boggs knocked on the door to signal that it was time. You pulled your medallion out of your pocket and handed it to Wanda. “This has always been my good luck charm. I want you to have it.” Wanda shook her head but you put it in her hand and closed her fingers into a fist as you stood up to leave. You reminded her that you loved her. She told you that she loved you as tears streamed down her face.

The Star Squad was assembled and meant to be safe from any combat. The group was meant to be filmed not to engage in real battle. The team wasn't even supposed to exist but with Katniss cutting her honeymoon short and sneaking off to the Capitol on her own, Coin was forced to make it look like that was her idea. You couldn't be mad, Katniss wanted Snow dead. Everyone did. But you were a little upset that she didn't include you in the plan once you found out that Peeta and Johanna helped her escape.

The team moved through the rundown Capitol with precaution, using a device nicknamed the Holo. It mapped out and scanned for PODs, which were unpredictable traps planted throughout the streets. You couldn't believe what had become of the once vibrant city. You knew where Wanda’s home was from where you stood, no matter where you were. You remember taking long walks with her through the city during your time with her. The two of you were always in some ridiculous disguise to allow for privacy.

She would race you when she was in a playful mood. The two of you would accidentally knock into others with childish snickers. Other times, you would spot a cheesy gift at one of the many stands at the market. You would buy her something that you knew she'd hate in order to share a laugh then surprise her with something she'd love. You eventually found out that she kept both types of gifts in a box under a floorboard under her bed.

It was one of the signs that let you know she loved you.

You think about her when Homes and Mitchell are blown up. The explosion was loud and had your ears ringing. Gale had to grab you by your vest to get you running as guns were firing. The team ran to hide in three different buildings. Katniss and Gale used their explosive arrows to blow up the Peacekeepers vehicles before they could use their explosives against the Star Squad.

Boggs and Jackson were able to get everyone directed into a single building and reconvene. They agreed that the best course of action was to retreat back to base but Katniss cut in with her personal mission, claiming it was Coin's assignment. “I was sent here to kill Snow. Coin wants us to broadcast the entire thing in order to get the Peacekeepers to surrender,” she wasn't convincing but no one was in a position to argue when the team was closer to the Presidential Mansion than they were to safety.

Boggs didn't challenge her. He agreed to follow her lead. He projected the map of the city to show that the number of PODs had grown. The best chance was underground. Pollux, a former avox turned rebel cameraman and soldier, volunteered his knowledge from the years of experience he had working in the sewer system of the Capitol.

You had to pretend that the water that you sloshed through was the ocean that you once played in as a child. “Thinking about home?” Finnick asked you as he nudged your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you responded, “you?”

He nodded his head, “although this smell isn't making it easy. I miss that sea salt smell. I didn't mind tasting that air.”

“Aw man,” you shook your head as you remembered the crystal blue sea. “When all of this is over, the first thing I'm doing is taking Wanda to Four. She deserves a nice beach day after everything she's been through.”

“I think we all do,” Finnick added. “But don't worry, I won't be too needy when I come along. Not like you were.” His joke hit you harder than it was meant to. It felt like a different life. You invaded Finnick and Annie's home because you couldn't be alone. You joined them on their dates whenever you needed the company. Annie took care of you whenever she was capable of doing so. She was such a great person. She didn't deserve to go the way she did.

“It's okay, I deserve it,” you patted his back. He hugged you from the side while the both of you continued to walk through the sewers. You missed him so much while he was lost. You were happy to have him back. You hoped that one day he would move on because that's what Annie would have wanted.

The team eventually found a dry space to rest for a few hours. You were the first on the watch rotation. You were jumpy. There was a feeling in the pit of your stomach that warned you. In the moment, you ignored it. When you fell asleep after you woke up Boggs, you continued to ignore the feeling.

Then you woke up to screams and being shoved. Katniss was shoving you awake. Everyone ran out of the dry space and ran through the tunnels as they were chased by mutts. You tried to shoot at the mutts but you couldn't slow down enough to aim. Directions were being shouted out and in the hysteria the team members that weren't being mauled by the faceless creatures ran into an area that was meant for maintenance workers. Several of them ran up a ladder to escape. Just as Katniss was about to climb, a creature took her down which sent you and Peeta running to her rescue. Finnick was shouting from the opening for everyone to hurry.

With your trident you were able to fend off the creatures in front of you but it was Johanna that managed to protect you from behind. Katniss and Peeta managed to get the creatures away from them with Gale's help as well as yours and Johanna's. Katniss ran up the ladder first, followed by Peeta, then Johanna. It was you and Gale that were next when another wave of mutts came rushing through. You tried to climb up as fast as you could to allow Gale the time to climb but both of you were caught by the wave. Just as you were being pulled up by Peeta, your legs were caught by a mutt and had you dragged back down.

If it hadn't been for your special trident, you wouldn't have made it out of the sewers alive. You managed to save what was left of Gale. His right leg was shredded and gushing blood. The two of you crawled through the tunnels together and managed to catch up with what was left of the team. Katniss looked relieved but the feeling didn't last long as a bullet fired and hit Gale in the head. You had been the one holding him up as it happened. His blood and his brains painted your face.

“Run!” You shouted as more Peacekeepers appeared. Katniss was in shock, you had to grab her as you ran through the parking garage. Deadly light beams flashed from the ceiling at random. The first one took down Messalla. He turned to dust as fast as the light touched him. “Run!” You screeched at the top of your lungs again as the floor shredded behind the Leeg sisters. Leeg 2 tripped over herself and fell into the blades. Leeg 1 turned as she heard her sister's cries, that split second of hesitation took her life.

Finally, the lights stopped as did the blades and the remaining members of the Star Squad were running out of the death trap and into the dark streets of the Capitol. There were digital and physical posters everywhere of the rebels' faces, including yours and the other former victors. There didn't seem to be a place to hide. The adrenaline coursing through your veins had you jumping at every sound as you tried to think of where to hide.

“I know where we are,” Cressida said breathlessly, “I know where to go.” She guided the team to a clothing shop. A woman with tiger-like features answered the door and rushed everyone inside. She brought the team of rebels into the basement. You took careful steps as you observed the space with your weapon drawn. Cressida, Castor, and Pollux were already standing around the basement. When you deduced that it was safe, you collapsed on the last step.

You woke up with a gasp of air, startled by the delicate touch of the woman that was hosting you. She had been stitching a gash on your bicep when you woke up. You frowned as she retreated. You knew her but you couldn't remember how before you slipped back into unconsciousness. The adrenaline had deserted your body, leaving it exhausted without an ounce of energy.

“Wanda,” you muttered as you felt someone cradling your face in their hands. You leaned into the touch and forced your eyes open, anxious to see the love of your life. It was Johanna that you saw instead. She was wiping your face with a wet cloth. “Oh, it's you,” you muttered as you shut your eyes again.

“Shut up, you know you're happy to see me,” she said softly as she continued to clean your face. “Finnick made it. So did the two love birds. Cressida and her bugs are alive too,” she quietly informed you.

You tried to swallow a lump forming in your throat but the emotions hit you too hard to hide them. “I couldn't save him,” you said through your tears. Johanna nodded as she continued to clean Gale's blood from your face with a frown as tears built up in her eyes. She cared about you a lot and it hurt her to see you fall apart like that. You stopped crying and sat up as you felt guilty for the display of emotion when everyone in the room had lost people. You weren't even close with Gale. It just sucked with how hard you fought to keep him alive and just when you thought you had, he was gone before you or anyone could do anything.

You looked around the room and saw Finnick cleaning the blades of his trident. Cressida, Pollux, and Castor were tinkering with an old model of a Capitol television. Katniss and Peeta were holding each other as they slept. Her nose was red and her cheeks were stained with tears. You were certain were shed for the loss of her former hunting partner and best friend.

“When do you think we'll continue?” You asked Johanna with a mouth full of a sandwich she'd handed you.

She took a slow breath as she considered her answer. “When the next opportunity presents itself. We're in too deep to turn back now.” You nodded as you chewed.

Pollux cheered as he managed to repair the television. A mandatory broadcast that invited all Capitol citizens to Snow's mansion gave the opportunity to infiltrate the mansion. But it was only safe for two people to go. You were the first to volunteer. Katniss was the second. Peeta protested but Katniss was able to convince him that it had to be her. His prosthetic leg was broken, he couldn't take your place even if Katniss wasn't able to talk him down. Finnick almost talked you out of going but he didn't see the point.

“When Wanda asks, I tried to take your place,” Finnick said as he helped you get dressed up.

“Oh if I ever tell her this story, you did take my place,” you joked. He patted your shoulder as he agreed with a grin. He adjusted the holster with the trident inside so that it was still hidden but gave you easy access. Then he handed you a stolen Peacekeeper rifle and helped you hide it under the heavy coat. “If this goes south, tell her I'm sorry and that I love her,” you told Finnick with fear in your eyes.

Finnick sighed, “Things will go south if you think like that.”

“Promise me that you'll tell her,” you stated firmly. He agreed to deliver the message. “And make sure that when all of this is over and we come out on top that she is taken care of. If they still give us our winnings, make sure she gets mine. And that she can have my place in Four. Make sure that you disable all of the bugs,” you speak urgently as if you don't tell him these things now, no one will ever know your last wishes.

“Y/n,” Finnick looked you in the eye with worry, “Should I take your place? You have a life to start after this. I don't. Maybe I should-”

“There's no time,” Tigris warned as she rushed away from the windows. “You and Katniss have to leave now.”

You nodded and turned back to Finnick, “I'll be fine I just want to make sure that Wanda is taken care of just in case.” Finnick nodded as he agreed to ensure that Wanda was taken care of.

“But you're going to come back, and you're going to take care of her yourself, okay?” Finnick encouraged as he hugged you. You closed your eyes as you stood in his arms before you stepped away and turned to see Katniss and Peeta saying their goodbyes. They shared a kiss and you looked away as you felt like you were imposing in a private moment.

“Katniss, we better go,” you said as you put your hood over your head. She nodded as she stepped away from her twice faux husband.

Together, the two of you walked out into the crowded street. You kept your head down enough to not get noticed but not so much to have your view obstructed. You and Katniss got pretty close to the gates, it made your heart pound so hard that you could hardly hear anything. But with each step closer, you grew more confident that you'd be able to pull this off. Then you saw Peacekeepers were pulling hoods down. In a panic, you and Katniss turned around only to find more soldiers pulling hoods down. So you both turned back towards the pit before the gate where they were separating children from their parents.

You lost your confidence as you couldn't figure out where to go from there. You were both trapped. Then guns started firing. “It's the rebels!” Someone shouted and you pushed Katniss ahead of you to get her closer to the gates. Your hood fell and Peacekeepers charged towards you. With all of the innocent civilians around, you didn't want them to get caught in the crossfire so you dropped the rifle and pulled out the trident.

You fought off the Peacekeepers as you saw rebel trucks rolling through the crowd. A small boy ran up to you and kicked you in the knee as you fought off Peacekeepers. The small distraction allowed a Peacekeeper to get the upper hand on you as he took your trident from you and tried to stab you through the chest with it. But because of the programming that Tony and Beetee did to the weapon, the blade disappeared before it could harm you and the part of the staff that he was holding heated until he dropped the weapon. You caught the trident as it fell and stabbed him through the chest.

You pulled it out and rushed to find Katniss when everyone stopped as Capitol hovercrafts loomed over the pit of children and dropped parachutes as if they were gifts from sponsors. The children reached out to them in excitement. You had just found Katniss when the parachutes exploded.

The two of you fell back and you hit your head hard on a broken piece of concrete. Everything went to black as you heard nothing but screams.

When you woke up, you were in a hospital. It was white and bright. You'd been in there before but not in District 13. This was the hospital in the Capitol. Your heart picked up with fear until you realized that your hand was being held by Wanda as she slept in a chair by your bedside.

Your heart rate on the monitor slowed down as you calmed. You wiggled your fingers to try and bring circulation back to them. As you did, you felt the familiar shape of your medallion pressing against the palm of your hand. Wanda sat up as she felt you move. “Oh thank goodness!” She cheered as she finally saw your eyes open. She leaned in and kissed on the mouth then she leaned her forehead against yours with closed eyes. “You came back to me,” she whispered.

“I promised, didn't I?” You replied with a raspy voice.

She laughed through the tears that started to fall in her relief. “You can't make that promise again because you're never leaving my side again. Do you hear me? Never,” she demanded as she pulled back to look at you. Her eyes danced as they scanned your features. “Our child needs you almost as much as I do,” she said in a broken whisper.

“Our what?” Your eyes widened at the news and then it clicked for you. That's the condition she was in that she couldn't leave Thirteen on assignment for. Wanda nodded as she wiped her tears.

“We can talk more after the doctor sees you,” she said as she hit a button on the wall. You couldn't believe the news. You couldn't believe that the rebels had won. You had no idea that when you were knocked out by the concrete that you would be waking up in a new and free world. It was not how you saw the war ending, but you didn't mind. You were happy it was over.

The rebels won but President Coin didn't. She wanted to implement a version of the Hunger Games with only Capitol children. Any child born in the Capitol or from a female Capitol citizen would be eligible in the first reaping. First. That word led you to believe that there would be future games. That made your future child eligible. You voted against it. But unfortunately, the votes for it outweighed those against. You hadn't realized that Katniss was angry about the loss of her sister until you heard about Prim’s death.

Then at the ceremony where she was supposed to shoot President Snow with an arrow, her aim went a bit higher and instead pierced President Coin in the heart with her arrow. A rush of people fled towards the stage to aid Coin as she fell to the front of it. Snow laughed himself to death as he choked on his own blood. Katniss was about to eat a nightlock pill before Peeta took it from her. She was then taken into custody. You couldn't see her for days while a committee discussed her fate.

You did speak to her character when the committee brought you in for questioning. In the footage of the day, they caught a moment between the two of you when she looked at you and you looked away with a disappointed expression. They used that to accuse you of knowing that she planned on killing the president. You revealed Coin’s shocking plans for the future Capitol Games. You didn't go into the details of the disagreement, you only revealed that there was one.

She was sent to District 12 on conditions that you weren't clear on because they were highly confidential. But there were rumors. When you got the chance, you visited her to find out what she was thinking when she voted to have a new version of the Hunger Games and what she was thinking when she shot Coin instead of Snow. You had so many questions for her. But, when you found her in her home you decided that it didn't matter what her motivations were. She was lost in her grief. Peeta lived in the home he was awarded after their games and he said that he checked on her when she allowed it but there wasn't much else he could do for her other than keep her alive until she was ready to live again.

You thanked him and offered your support whenever he or she needed it. Then you returned to District 4. There, you and Wanda were helping the district rebuild. She loved it in the district more than either of you thought she would. She was able to bond with the community better than she did when she was in the Capitol. Even her twin brother, Pietro, found a life for himself in District 4.

The two of you didn't marry until after the baby was born. Well, babies. Wanda gave birth to Tommy and Billy in the new District 4 hospital that you helped build with a team of men and women and other non-gender conforming persons. They were the first boys to be born in the new world. The first baby to be born after the war was over was a girl. She was born a couple of months before the twins were born.

You cried as you held your sons in your arms. Not only because there were so many close calls that almost prevented you from experiencing the moment. But because without the war, without the games, without all of the hardships, those boys wouldn't exist. You never thought that you'd ever be grateful for the suffering you endure until you held your boys and thought of them as the reward.

For the wedding Pietro and Johanna each carried one of the babies. Johanna was your best woman and Pietro was Wanda’s man of honor. Each baby had a ring that was attached to a pillow. Finnick officiated the ceremony. Many were in attendance, including a much healthier Katniss and Peeta. You attended their own private wedding ceremony a few years later. Surprisingly, a sober Haymitch Abernathy with a ring on his marital finger and a smile as he sat next to his wife, Effie Trinket. She didn't think Effie Abernathy had the same ring to it. Your wedding wasn't televised and you were grateful for the privacy as you and Wanda celebrated the union with the people that mattered in your lives. It wasn't a show for strangers to tune into or to be inspired by. It was just a fun night that celebrated love.

Life was good.

But life wasn't good throughout the entire country. There were still people that weren't entirely happy with the changes that were being implemented. People were losing jobs. Not everyone had a home to return to and those that did had expected an upgrade for their troubles. Things weren't moving at the pace that everyone wanted. You carried a guilt for having such a peaceful life that you chose to get involved in anyway that you could.

“I have to go to the Capitol next week,” you sighed as you told Wanda with a frown while you laid with her in bed.

“What for?” She asked as she sat up.

“I have to meet with the head of the housing department to discuss a few things and offer my help,” you stated vaguely, you were tired and comfortable. You hardly had the energy to go into detail.

“You have to be careful when you're there, I've heard that crime rates are high right now,” Wanda warned as she settled back against you. “Apparently there’s a group of former Peacekeepers that weren't too happy about losing their positions of power. They've been targeting people from the districts that live in or even visit the Capitol.”

“Please, I've survived an arena and a rebellion. I can handle a bunch of bigots,” you muttered. “But I hear you,” you kissed her cheek. “I'll be careful,” you promised with your eyes closed. “I love you,” you whispered as you started to fall asleep.

Visiting the Capitol opened your eyes to how bad things had gotten there. It wasn’t the lively city it once was. It looked like any other district before the rebellion and before the rebuilds and renovations. You only saw so much from the back window of the vehicle you were being driven in. But it was more than enough to get your guard up. Your meeting went well with the woman in charge of the housing and other restorations throughout the districts. She was very receptive to your idea’s on the kinds of houses that people should be living in as well as the kinds of fundraising efforts that can be done and the jobs that could be made in each district. She loved the proposal you had put together and when the meeting was over, she invited you out to celebrate. You should have declined but you knew how important networking was for the project. She brought you to one of the more high end bars in the Capitol. The buildings that surrounded the bar were covered in tags and there were tents for the homeless across the street. You couldn't believe it had gotten so bad.

As you celebrated with the woman, she introduced you to prospective investors. You chatted with many people throughout the night until you were ready to leave. But when you stepped out, the car you called for wasn't there. You looked around confused and that's when someone snuck behind you and pulled a sack over your head.

You fought against them but more people came along. You couldn't see which made it difficult to tell how many people there were as you tried to fight them off without a weapon. Which one of them had. They hit the front of your knee hard enough to have you collapse to the ground. You were almost certain that they had shattered your kneecap. The group of them kicked and hit you from every direction until you stopped moving.

Two of them lifted you up by your arms and dragged you to a truck. They drove you to the center of the city and strapped your wrists against the new Mockingjay statue. They burned the old Capitol emblem into your abdomen, then they left you to be found in the morning.

By the time they brought you down from the statue, there was no saving you.

Finnick found out from the news that morning. He ran over to your house to try and stop Wanda from turning on the television but he was too late. He walked into the home and found her screaming on the floor as her brother held her. The image of you hanging on the Mockingjay statue was still on the screen. Finnick dropped to his knees and cried into his hands.

Johanna found out in the home of a woman she'd met the night before. She ran out and got on the first train to Four to find out if the broadcast was just a scare tactic. It was the only thing the news showed all day. But she kept telling herself that it didn't even look like you. That it had to be a fake doll or something. But when she got to Four and found the home of distraught loved ones, she had to accept what she refused to believe. You were gone for good. Your six-year-old boys ran up to her with scared and confused expressions. They didn't know yet. She took them to their room to distract them until she could find out what Wanda was planning to do.

Peeta was in the hospital when he found out. He asked the nurse to shut off the broadcast while Katniss slept. He shed silent tears as he held their daughter. He was supposed to call you the day before to tell you the news but he thought it couldn't hurt to wait a day. He didn't inform Katniss of your brutal passing until she was discharged from the hospital the next day. She was furious about the delay.

Haymitch read about the incident in the newspaper. He sat up in his lounge chair, getting ready to tell Effie but she walked into the living room with a tear streaked face and fell into his lap. The older couple held each other tight as they mourned the tragic loss of their friend.

President Paylor wasn't putting up with the violence in the country from that point. It wasn't the way you imagined making a difference, but your death was not in vain. It opened the eyes to the public and to the government how society was failing. How things hadn't changed enough. Harsh laws were implemented to put a stop to the hate crimes that were being done throughout the country. Rewards were given to those that turned in the murders that committed the acts. It was a sort of witch hunt but the end result was a peaceful Panem.

When it came to finding the group of people that murdered you, it took a couple years longer than your wife liked. There was a trial. And when they were appointed guilty, Wanda put in the request to be the one to take their lives. It was denied. She wasn't allowed to attend their execution. Finnick did, for her. She needed to hear that they were gone for good from someone she trusted.

When he returned to Four that night, he confirmed that each of the people had been executed. Wanda broke down and cried in his arms because it didn't change anything for her. You were still gone. She was still angry.

“You should have promised to come back to me,” she whispered to your grave stone as she kneeled in front of it. “You always came back when you made that promise.” She weaved your medallion between her fingers as she spoke. The action made her feel close to you. She watched you do it for many years. She thought she'd watch you do it for the rest of her life. Although you would have loved to have more time with her, you were grateful for the time that you did have with her. Because your death made a safer Panem for her and your loved ones.

Though significant sacrifices were made, in the end, you wouldn’t have changed a single thing.

Or would you?

The Tribute

#wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff au #the hunger games #hunger games au #marvel x hunger games #wanda maximoff fanfiction #hunger games fanfiction #katniss and peeta #wanda x y/n #wanda x you #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x gender neutral reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #messedupfan

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adsosfraser · 1 year

Text

always

everlark; post mockingjay; jealous katniss

The roof is leaking.

The tin bucket rings with the tap tap tap of the evenly spaced droplets.

The deluge of rain hit hard last night and it has me humming happily, excitement in my chest.

I’ve always loved thunder. The way it rolls deep within my chest and echoes in the deep old bones of the mountains around us. I would squeal with each clap and reach up to catch it in our Seam home as my daddy smiled from his chipped armchair. We’d play a game of hopping from spot to spot on the floor at each rumble and though his eyes hung in deep dark circles from his shifts in the mines, my father never tired. Then, Prim was born and she was terrified of thunderstorms for a time.

It’s just one leak in our shiny and spiffy Capitol made home that’s been standing for almost a century now though. Thom and his builders have much more important things on their minds than a tiny leak in our roof.

Some people still don’t even have roofs. The make-shift canvas of the sturdy tents lining the district hardly constitute roofs.

When the war began, the Capitol wasn’t quite as invested in the architecture in their dear sweet Victors’ homes. They couldn’t keep up their perfect veneer in District 12 when they obliterated it into the ground. The poor things.

And besides, a little water didn’t hurt that much. In my father’s home, we had at least ten designated containers to catch the drip of rainfall.

When I step outside into the morning, the sun is bright and clear in the sky. No trace of the ominous grey and green puffs above remains. The grass is wet and smells of rain. A small trickle of a stream has formed on the gravelly road, opposite our home. At least the geese have been subdued into some semblance of peace because of the storm.

Peeta had left this morning before the sun even stretched out into the sky. Usually I would already be out in the woods too, or by his side watching him knead dough or wipe sweat off his brow.

But, I couldn’t settle last night. Even in Peeta’s arms I was restless. And when my eyes finally drooped shut, a nightmare had found me. The giant crash of thunder that split the sky in two in the middle of the night woke me up. In my dreams all I heard were bombs and gunfire. It had reminded me of-

Peeta let me rest in this morning when he heard my grumpy grunt as I shoved my face under the pillows to hide from the sunlight. Not that he let me do anything. But he had gently tucked me back in and left a muffin on my nightstand for when I was ready.

Part of me wanted to pull him back in by the shirt of his buttoned collar and waste away the day. But even my arms wouldn’t listen to my demands. The bed was so nice and I fell deep into the mattress covered in one of the sheets as Peeta left the fan to run for me. The cinnamon and dill buried deep within the fabric of his side made me feel like I was rocking on a boat, in a lake with gentle rolling waves in my head.

Besides, we haven't even kissed since he returned to me almost four months ago. At first the chaos of finishing the important parts of the bakery and going through the final touches to get it up and running had us distracted. Now I’m not so sure he wants to kiss me.

I kick the loose rocks littering my path to the bakery. They skip and hop and fling themselves in the air. One hits another rock and angles itself to launch at someone passing me clear across the street but their back is turned and they don’t even feel it ping off the heel of their boot. I mumble an apology to myself though, and feel the heat of shame caving in on me from every inch of air around me.

Before I know it, I’m in front of the bakery. It was one of the first buildings up in Twelve. Everytime I see it my heart swells with pride for Peeta. Even though it’s just the bare bones now, I can see its future clear across every brick. The sign hangs proudly over the front. The ‘s’ in Mellark’s is slightly crooked and splotchy because of my shaky hands, but when Peeta began painting it with such excited and reverent hands, he insisted I contribute to at least one part of it.

Normally, I never enter through the front door of the bakery. The back door has always been home to me in a way. The first time I ever came to the back doorstep, I was sitting tall on my father’s shoulders and happily babbling along to a tune he was singing. He and Mr. Mellark quickly exchanged two squirrels with a respectful nod and I mimicked them which put the trace of a laugh onto the baker’s weathered face.

Now, I want to surprise Peeta as one of his customers. The bell of the door jingles as I walk through the door. No one mans the front counter so he must be in the back.

“I’ll be with you shortly.”

His voice carries through the opening to the room with the ovens and prep tables and my shoulders relax at his calm but steady voice. The way the bakery was built and rebuilt, it’s easy for him to call out to customers without having to yell. My lip twitches up into a soft smile and I pull out one of the chairs dotting the tables around the room.

His clomping footsteps and another ring of the bell clash together in my mind. I look up to see the new customer, expecting someone from Thom’s crew but I instantly tense up at the sight.

Her hair is coiled perfectly into ringlets around her face and a big fur coat rests on her shoulders. Her chest is unnaturally large and her bottom even more so. But she’s perfect, right down to her nails. Not a blemish in sight and her blonde hair shines with health and lustre.

She’s big and pretty.

“Artementia!”

Peeta’s shout pulls me from my scrutiny of the clearly Capitol woman. His steps are quick as he approaches her and wipes the flour off of his hands onto his apron.

My head jerks back when he reaches for her across the counter and they embrace. His smile is brilliant and he doesn’t even notice me lurking in the corner.

“Oh my dear.” They pull back from their hug and that woman kisses both of his cheeks, dangerously close to the corner of his mouth. “It’s been far too long.”

“It really has Artie.” He squeezes her hand. “How have things been for you?”

“Well why don’t we go and have lunch together? I’m sure you’ll be having your break soon anyway.”

“It’s just me today, I’m not sure I can just close up shop for my lunch break.”

“They can survive without you for an hour I’m sure. Just flip your little sign over and we can go to the opening of that restaurant down the street.”

Peeta’s head turns to the back, searching a long moment for something. When he turns around, it seems he’s already made up his mind. He lets out a sigh before plastering his smile back on for the woman.

“Well alright,” His hands work swiftly to unknot the apron around his waist and place it on the counter. “Sure wouldn’t want anyone else to give you the grand tour of our pristine district.”

She places a hand over her chest and lets out a soft laugh and Peeta’s chest rumbles with a short chuckle.

They walk over to the door, not even glancing my way as Peeta flips the sign on the door over to ‘closed’ and locks the door. Before the door smacks shut behind them, I shove it open and storm past them in the opposite direction. To the woods.

The rock in my hand scatters to the ground.

It was pretty and I thought Peeta would’ve enjoyed its smooth surface and swirling brown rings.

But maybe now it’s not enough to preoccupy his mind with the pretty blood and flesh woman beside him.

His head whips back to the loud sound of the slamming door and ping of the rock and I quickly turn my face away from his line of vision.

“Katniss?” His hopeful voice calls out. But I’m already pushing to round the corner of the rebuilt merchant businesses. “Katniss!”

He can have fun with his gorgeous Capitol woman on his arm. I don’t care.

I save the grumbling for later though, my mind focuses on the ground below me as my legs carry me in a spring towards the fence. I duck under my spot in the chain-link and snatch up my bow and arrows.

After the fifth poor squirrel participates in my very important exercise of letting my feeling’s flow for the day, I climb up a strong and tall tree. I lean into the familiarity of pulling myself up its sprawling branches and swinging my body up and up. Reaching for the sky just as its leaves are.

Have I really lost my dandelion in the spring already?

Did the hungry storms of last night, and the contrast of the harsh summer sun this morning already wilt it?

He so easily welcomed that woman’s touch. Someone from the Capitol no less. And he’s barely touched me in months. Save our desperate grip on each other as the terrors of the night take over.

I will not be sharing a town with the woman Peeta so readily shares himself with.

Instead of rough bark behind my back, I feel the hard arm of a rocking chair digging into my spine. The room is cosy and safe, like Peeta. I feel the sway of my body with the branches of the tree and hug my knees tight to my chest.

“This baby takes nothing from you Kitty, my heart just has to grow some more. Like my tummy. That’s all.”

I relax into her arms, feeling the steady beat of her heart where my head lays. Her stomach is fat, nice and cushy. As fat as anyone in the Seam could ever get. She smells pretty. Like the dirt and plants Daddy lets me dig my grubby little fingers into. I feel the song rattle through my chest as she hums to me. My head gets droopy and I curl further into her. Her hands run through my hair and as she rocks our bodies together on the chair, my head clouds with dreams that I can’t touch yet. But I know they’re there. Happy and warm.

“I’ll always be right here with you baby.”

Shivering in the downpour I’ve been caught in, I hum the same tune she soothed me to. Without thinking, my body rocks back and forth on the soaked moss and lichen on the limb closest to the ground. If I let my hand hang limp from my side I could probably brush the tops of the chives sticking out near the base with my fingertips. I don’t remember my journey down from the top of the tree, but it must’ve happened somehow.

I could be crying. I don’t know. The fat raindrops on my face disguise any that may come.

But it would be hard to disguise the snot squirming its way out of me. I rub my bare forearm under my nose.

I do what I do best.

I run. I hide away. And I sulk.

It doesn’t matter.

They all leave.

Even if they don’t want to, they always do. My father and Prim's choice was made for them. I don’t know what’s worse. To have Peeta’s choice made for him or for him to actively choose that I no longer fit into his life.

Either way, it’s all unbearable to think about. I gasp in sharp breaths and my chest is tight with the pain and fatigue of it all. I feel like I’ve just run the worst marathon of my life, and I’ve never even gone over five miles when training for the Quell put a stick up Peeta’s ass.

His clomping footsteps alert me to his presence long before I can see his form through the sheets of rain obscuring my vision. Maybe if I tuck further into myself he won’t notice me sitting on the lowest branch of the tree.

I was never a lucky person though.

He approaches me slowly, like I would a skittish animal. I tuck my chin into the safety of my knees. Surely he’ll go away if I ignore him hard enough.

I feel the air move around me as he swings a leg up and over and brings his body to rest on the same branch as me. It’s not without difficulty though, I know his leg still bothers him and can be cumbersome at times. After a quiet moment of him gathering his balance again, he lifts my chin up with his finger.

I can feel the tear tracks, dry and crusty against my cheeks and I know I look like a drowned rat, or rather a drowned Buttercup from my little pity party under the torrential rain.

“Oh, Katniss.” Warmth floods through me, all-consuming and relieving as his thumb traces the skin under my eye. “What’s wrong baby?”

My nose stings again as a fresh wave of fat tears fall from my eyes at the nickname. My lip wobbles and I can’t breathe. I try to answer, but everything comes out as a choked sob. Peeta reaches around to wrap his arm around me, rubbing my back in comforting circles. When I finally get the words out, they’re incomprehensible with my stuttering breath, throat full of tears, and snot muffling everything. To anyone but Peeta, who knows me so well, past the need for language.

“Why doesn’t she want me anymore?”

“What brought all of this on sweet girl?”

“You’re leaving me.”

“Not real.”

“Maybe not your arms. But you are. Your heart.”

“Never Katniss.”

Fat rain drops fall from his delicate eyelashes, leaving behind them a darker shade of blond from the moisture.

“You’re right here Katniss.” His steady and warm hands take my hand that’s shivering from the cold. He guides it straight over his chest and the comforting thump of his heart beneath warms me more than his coat he wrapped tightly around me does. I blink at his motions, my mind puzzling and patching them together into an attempt at coherency.

His other hand reaches towards me and he watches me closely for any sign of apprehension in my eyes. I can’t manage any to bubble up in me at the moment. Tentatively, he presses the pads of his fingers against my own chest, speeding up the beat of my own heart along with his under the firm press the palm of my hand has against it. His fingers straighten until the heel of his own hand is flush against my heart. The soaked fabric of my shirt clings to us both from the water of the rain.

“And I’m right here.” The pitch of his voice sounds at the edge of a question and a statement.

It’s not fair to him to be stuck with me though, just because he knows I wouldn’t be able to handle it. He deserves someone good and beautiful. Just like him.

Not a girl scarred from the fire she wore for pageantry and glory.

“I’m not pretty enough for you. I’m not big enough.”

“Sweetheart.”

“I wasn’t enough.”

“Katniss.” My name breaks on his tongue; he physically can’t even force the muscles to move again, as if the ache in his chest is agonisingly painful from the blow of my words. I understand now. His heart is broken. Like I shot an arrow through him instead of the truth. Maybe I did, the day I sang to the birds in kindergarten and we’re forever tethered now from the invisible line of bow string to arrowhead.

“I love you.”

His beautifully made eyes well with tears, glossing the blue over with his pain. My eyes begin to water again, even after I’ve exhausted myself of the hydration required to sustain them. It’s not hard to feel what a man like Peeta feels for yourself, deep in your bones.

“I came back for you. Back to twelve. Back to myself.”

“It kills me that you think you’re not enough. I’m so sorry I said those words in 13 to you. I know I’ll never be able to take them back. Or the-” He stares at my throat, where his hands once wove together into a nest of fear and pure hatred and I swallow under his gaze. “But I promise Katniss. I will remind you how beautiful and smart and brave and loving you are every single day. You are perfect for me.”

“But you don’t want me.”

“I’ve wanted you that way ever since I’ve understood what it meant.”

But that doesn’t make sense. His constant distance and the sincerity behind his words clash within my mind. My brow furrows and my face deepens into a scowl.

“Show me.”

His eyes drag from their connection with mine, down to my lips. He looks back to me and his eyes widen with an emotion I’m all too familiar with.

“I’m afraid.”

“What?”

“I’m afraid I won’t stop Katniss. They changed me. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“So don’t stop. You’re my Peeta. No matter what.”

The kiss is gentle and sweet and I pull my body back against the rough bark, forcing him to lean into me even more. I cradle him between my thighs and smile against his lips. They taste like a fresh burst of blueberries on my tongue and my smile widens at the thought of him sneaking his own fresh muffin from the bakery’s supplies. The way his lips slide against mine, slick with the torrent of rain that assaults us is new and exciting. To consume the very rain itself off of his lip makes my chest flutter at the fact that not even the rain will get the chance to touch him that way so long as I remain in this embrace.

He shifts slightly against me and I immediately panic at the feel of him in that way. My body stiffens straight under him and he pulls back from my lips with a sheepish grin.

There’s an apology in his clear eyes but I won’t have that. I speak before his mouth can form the words.

I blurt out in a pant. “I like kissing you.”

I tuck my head into his shoulder to hide the blush that crosses my cheeks. But it’s too late. He’s already seen it if the dopey smile on his face is any indication.

“I like kissing you too.” His lips find the small space of skin by my hairline that isn’t hidden.

I scoot closer to him and burrow into his chest.

And that motion was a big mistake. Or maybe the best mistake I’ve made today.

We both carreen down into the cushion of soft grass below us when I push Peeta off-balance. A giggle bursts from my mouth unbidden as I land mostly on top of him. His body bears the brunt of the fall but he seems completely fine and a goofy grin crosses his face. He leans up to me and my heart flutters when he pulls me in for another short, sweet kiss. I nestle my knees around his hips and pull back from him with a smile.

I reach my hand to his ear and tuck a wisp of blond back behind his ear. The kisses and our proximity have made me bolder. Bold enough to interrogate him. “What is your little blonde girlfriend going to think about this?”

He sits up to bring his upper body off the damp ground and my body follows him.

“Who?”

I roll my eyes at him. I hold a hand to my chest and bat my eyelashes at him. “Oh Peeta it’s been far too long.”

“So that’s what this was all about. You were jealous?”

“No.” I scowl, crossing my arms tight over my chest.

“Katniss, she’s old enough to be our mother. Maybe even our grandmother.”

“Hmm.” My eyebrow twitches. “Maybe you’re into that sort of thing.”

He wraps his arms tighter around my waist, deliberately lower than where they were last time. He looks into my eyes for any sign that he’s gone too far but I won’t give him any. With a light pressure, he squeezes my backside tentatively with a wolfish grin, as if he’s just gotten away with stealing the last cookie from the cookie jar.

“What I’m into is what I have my hands full of right now.”

“But seriously Katniss, she saved us from the bombing in the Capitol after I tried to drag you away. She visited us both but I was the only one awake when she did.” His eyes are tender as he brushes a sopping wet piece of hair off of my collarbone. “It’s only ever been you my darling girl.”

“And it only ever will be?”

“Always.”

#everlark #one shot #adsofraser writing #thg #the hunger games #everlark fic #jealous katniss #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #post mockingjay

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