#he's not just the stoic peacekeeper

[elizaellwrites]

OC's Most Important Tag

Thank you @willtheweaver for tagging me here

Rules: Make a list (detailed or not) of the most important people, events, places, and anything else that shaped your characters into who they are, describing why.

Green for positive, Red for negative

Cameron Roiel

Important People

His Mother (Etesha)- Bold and determined, and a former member of Caldesaria's Royal Guard, Etesha was both a comfort and an inspiration for Cameron from a young age. Since his father was killed during the attack on their homeland, she did her best to raise him and his sister well on her own. Prepared to do what was best for her son, she supported him through his childhood health struggles and began training him herself once he was ready.

His Sister (Jaleya)- Jaleya was always someone for him to protect and care for, and while they had their disagreements like all siblings do, it was all put aside when Jaleya found their mother murdered in their home. Cameron watched as she devolved from her former self, struggling with her mental health after their familial ability allowed her to feel her mother's death at 14 years old. While he would support her as much as he could, watching her struggle so much was heartbreaking.

Amber Sagael- One of his earliest and only true friends at the academy, they were among the first of the younger generation to join the Observance system of the newly established Academy. A few years later, Cameron would serve as her second in command of their team, with their relationship only tested by her sudden resignation and distancing from their team.

Jacob Sagael- Starting as his junior on their team and annoying younger brother of Amber, Jacob would suddenly be thrust into the leadership position of their team following Amber's resignation. The leadership change and personality clash caused tension between Jacob and Cameron, which only grew worse with the news that Cameron's mother and Jacob's girlfriend had been murdered on the same night by the same person. Jacob soon fled the academy, dumping all his responsibilities onto Cameron while he was grieving his mother, amplifying the problems between them and forcing Cameron to be the sole foundation for their team as he was trying not to crack.

Important Places

Lietasae, Caldesaria- His childhood hometown, also the central capital of Ariya. His memories here were good, though few. He looks back at this time as the only stability he knew during his life.

Nelenai, Wotakour- As his family was just visiting the capital city of his mother's home territory, the attack that demolished their homeland and killed the majority of their people would occur. The streets of this city would go on to haunt his mind for years, stained with the blood of their people and crawling with dangers that they narrowly escaped with their lives. The trauma from this experience would have mental and physical effects that he worked for years to overcome.

The Academy- Cameron's family moved here during his recovery, seeing his improvement in the first few years they were there. Here, he would begin his training and would go on to follow in his mother's footsteps to defend and protect their people. He found purpose there and was well on track to becoming the most talented warrior the Academy's Observance system had.

Important Events

The Hecathian Genocide/Homeland Evacuation- Cameron was just shy of 6 years old when the attack on their people happened, sweeping across the territories and wiping out their people. In an unfamiliar city, and separated from his parents, Cameron would hold his sister close as he witnessed and felt death all around him. He had accepted that he would die that night too when an enemy warrior noticed them, but instead, she spared only their lives that night. After collapsing, he would wake up with his mother in a strange new world, with his father presumed killed during the battle.

Joining the Hecathian Observance (Defense Program)- The shock and trauma of the attack had chronic and long-lasting impacts on Cameron, leaving him nearly bedbound at times. For years, he would push to improve his own condition, challenging himself to have more mobility and to be able to truly live his life. Once he felt ready, he began the traditional warrior's training under his mother's watch. Empowered by his progress and finding purpose in the idea of defending their people, he would join the Observance system to perfect his skills and find more than the pain and turmoil he had known for years.

His Mother's Murder- His mother had always been his support and safe place to return to. As his surviving parent, mentor, and inspiration, the moment when he was called to her home that night was a walk of surreal despair. At 19, he was left alone, with his sister crumbling into herself. With his fragile world fractured, he had to go on, holding himself together for the sake of his sister and his Observance team who had also lost a member that night.

Tagging: @kaylinalexanderbooks, @illarian-rambling, @worldstogetlostin, @tildeathiwillwrite, and @paeliae-occasionally

[evielmostdefinitely]

Pls do something with peacekeeper!Coriolanus I have yet to see anyone do that trope + I feel like he’s more mean and protective in that era

mastermind |peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: based off above prompt, but wanted to tweak it a teeny tiny bit so this is how coriolanus meets capitol!reader. the plot of the original film is altered a little to fit this.

contains: tw- violence, guns, shooting. dark, protective, manipulative coriolanus. not super heavy, but there are some kinda darkish themes so read at your own discretion.

“Snow,” Commander Hoff’s gruff voice rang through the doorway, hitting Coriolanous head on, his heart lurching with fear. They found out about Lucy Gray, that she’d escaped after Mayfair and Billy’s death. Or maybe worse, maybe she hadn’t headed north, maybe she’d told them. 

His mind raced as he took a step forward, helmet in hand respectfully, hoping Hoff wouldn’t see the way his hands trembled. “Commander, Sir.” Snow held his head high. If this was to be the end, he wouldn’t go out crying. Not like Sejanus- no, Corio would have pride. 

Hoff set the papers down on his desk with a huff, head jerking back for Coriolanus to come towards him. “Snow, I need you to escort Miss Duke to the Mayor’s office.” He nodded towards the corner. “I guess with the recent tragedy of his daughter, Mayor Mayfield’s mind has been elsewhere. He didn’t get his quarterly tesserae count turned in. The Capitol sent Miss Duke to get them, so make sure she gets there.” 

Coriolanus’ eyes wandered to you, standing in the corner properly, hands clasped elegantly in front of you. A shining beacon in the dark skies of the coal country, a glimmering ray of good after all the bad Corio had. He could tell you were from The Capitol, though you tried to dress more humbly for the visit to the district, he supposed. 

You gave him a smile, and for a moment, Corio’s heart leapt with excitement. That familiar rush of heat returning, coursing through his chest. “Private Snow will take you there, Miss Duke. He’s one of our best. On his way to officer training in Two. You’re in good hands.” Commander Hoff nodded. 

You thanked him quietly, kitten heels clicking across the hardwood floors. Coriolanus followed you, trying to keep his stoic expression, though his eyes wandered to the swell of your ass, hugged perfectly in your dress. 

“Snow,” Commander Hoff called before he left. “A word?” 

The icy chill of fear flooded back into Corio’s system, gripping the knob. You didn’t seem to notice, nodding politely, shutting the door behind you. 

“Sir?” Coriolanus swallowed the lump in his throat, approaching the desk slowly. 

Hoff leaned back in his chair. “You know who that is, right?” 

Coriolanus blinked. His mind had been so occupied with his impending doom, his fate had seemed to turn and tread on the worst sides of things, he was so sure it would continue. “Miss Duke?” 

Hoff blinked at him, laughing softly. “Yeah, Duke, Snow.” He pressed. Coriolanus felt dumb, small like he did when he talked to Highbottom. “Snow, does the name Atticus Duke mean anything to you?” 

Coriolanus' eyes widened lightly, turning towards the door in surprise. “Atticus Duke? The-” 

“-The man who owns half of Panem?” Hoff snorted lightly. “Yeah, that’s his youngest out there. Only girl, alright?” 

Coriolanus felt his curiosity peek. He’d been wallowing in the loss of Lucy Gray, he didn’t even put it together. Thinking you were just another Capitol girl. Not the Duke Heiress. 

“Yes, sir. I-I see that now.” Corio nodded dumbly. 

“Good. So you know that her father paid for the destruction of the rebellion? That he funded the Capitol? And that if these people see her, those fucking Rebels are likely to want to hurt her?” Hoff pressed, his eyes narrowed in seriousness. “And that if something happens to her, our entire platoon will be hanging from that tree- or worse?” 

It shouldn’t have made Coriolanus as excited as he was. The thought of having that much power. He could easily have that level of control, have people quaking with fear- even the powerful ones, trembling at his feet the way Atticus Duke did. Oh, how he envied it. How he craved it. 

“Yes, sir.” Coriolanus nodded. 

“Snow, listen to me.” Hoff sat up straight, leaning over the desk. “If any of them get close to her, no mercy- do you understand?” 

Coriolanus nodded again, spine straightening with authority. “I have others trailing and leading the both of you- crowd control, but I wanted her to feel safe. Feel welcome. So I stuck her with you. Figured a familiar face from the Capitol would put her at some ease. Keep her from telling her father something that would have him questioning my rank and order around here.” 

“I understand, Commander.” Coriolanus said firmly. “I’ll keep her safe.” 

“Wow,” You muttered, looking around the cobbled street. The Peacekeepers ahead of you barking orders, scaring off any pedestrians wandering about. “Is it always like this?” 

Corio blinked, his gun cradled in his hand, finger on the trigger- ready. “Always like what?” 

“This,” You waved around you. “It’s very…” 

“Depressing?” Corio muttered, a grumble, eyes scanning the perimeter in front of him over the gray skies and smog filled air. 

“Yeah.” You smiled softly. “I pictured it… prettier?” 

“It’s the coal district, Miss Duke.” Coriolanus said, the barrel of his gun pointed for backup at a scurrying coal miner. 

“So that’s what makes it so sad?” You challenged, brow raised. 

Corio didn’t answer. He knew what you were implying, and he wouldn’t humor it. Instead, his eyes scanned the street. “May I ask why you’re here?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. 

“What?” Corio snapped, harsher than he meant to. 

“Why you’re here?” You repeated. “I, uh, I don’t want to sound rude. I just- I saw you on the games. You were the mentor who won. I just, I figured you would be at University with the others.” 

“I made an enemy. A powerful one.” Corio quipped shortly, jaw set. He couldn’t let his mind race and spiral, not now. He needed to stay focused. 

“Oh,” You muttered, looking down at the wet, broken road. “I’m sorry.” 

Corio’s heart skipped, maybe with joy, maybe with fear. “May I ask you why you’re here?” Coriolanus asked, eyes cutting down towards you. 

“I have to get the count for the tesserae.” You motioned towards the Mayor’s office before you. “I have to take them back to The Capitol.” 

“Yes, but,” Corio paused, scanning the area. “You’re- Surely, you don’t need to do that, Miss Duke.” He muttered, voice dropping to a low octave. 

You blushed, sheepishly looking towards your shoes, ruined from the muck in the road. “So, Commander Hoff briefed you on me?” You grinned. 

Coriolanus didn’t answer. “I already knew.” He lied easily, eyes cutting to you. “We’ve met before. In passing. I was Sejanus’ friend.” 

“Oh,” Your face fell. “Right. I-I am so sorry for your loss. It was-” 

“-Yes.” Corio nodded, the bile rising in his throat. “We-We met at the Academy’s Ball two springs ago.” 

You turned, looking at him fully for the first time. He tried not to blush, icy eyes meeting your own for a moment. “That’s right.” You grinned. “You-You had longer hair. Tigris’ cousin?” 

“Yes.” Coriolanus nodded. 

“She was apprenticing for my aunt.” You smiled softly. 

Corio looked at you, his rigid posture slacking just for a moment, relaxing in your presence. “Why aren’t you doing something like that?” He asked, brows furrowing for a moment. “Or in University, yourself. Surely that would be… more appropriate than this.”

You bit back a smile, chin ducking down. “Maybe.” You shrugged. “I like this job, though. I get to see the Districts.” 

“Why would you ever want to do that?” Corio snarled lightly. “I can’t wait to get out of them. Get away from these people.” He muttered bitterly. 

You blinked at him, eyes narrowing lightly, stopping before the steps of the Mayor’s building. “You seemed quite fond of that song bird you helped win.” You countered. “And she was among these people.” 

Coriolanus was stunned, mouth opening stupidly, before swallowing his jumbled words. Instead, he offered you his arm politely for you to steady yourself on while you climbed the steps to the Mayor’s office. 

Coriolanus waited outside the office at attention while you collected the tesseraes for the quarter from a distraught, and clearly drunken, Mayor Mayfield. His slurred speech, pores sweating out whiskey soaked odor. 

You took the envelope, thanking him before quickly slipping out. Coriolanus stood beside you, falling back into step with you, the other Peacekeepers joining around the two of you. 

“You’re returning to The Capitol today?” Corio asked, though his eyes stayed straight ahead. 

“They asked me to stay the night.” You answered simply. “Something about a train leaving in the morning?” You looked at him carefully. You knew he was to join you with the others. You’d given the orders from Dr. Gaul to Commander Hoff that morning.

Coriolanus frowned, turning to you curiously. “Tomorrow? Why would they make you-” 

The ravenous bark of Peacekeepers in front of you made you jump, a deranged looking man, covered in soot from the mines, charging at you with a vengeful pace. You froze, clutching the envelope in front of you like a shield, glued to the concrete in pure fear. 

“Gimme that envelope, you stupid bitch!” The man roared, mere feet away from you. “Get my daughter’s name outta there! Take it out!” 

You flinched, bracing for the impact of him hitting you, his body hurling towards yours. It never came. Instead, a shot behind you had a gasp tearing from your lungs. The bullet so close to your own head, you heard it whizzing past you like the June Bugs that flew in the fields in the countryside of the district. 

The man grunted, a bloody gurgle, a crimson patch seeping through his stomach. The other Peacekeepers seized him, shouting and grabbing at him, hauling him away roughly. Your hand trembled, pressing to your lips. Coriolanus stood behind you, gun lowering, finger still on the trigger. 

His face was hard, stoic, eyes narrowed dangerously- furiously. “Come on.” Coriolanus muttered, a hand gently on your back, guiding you forwards. The crowds were peering, poking around at the sound of gunshots, the groans and screams of the man. “We need to get you to the Commander’s Quarters.” 

“Snow, hey, look we-we didn’t see him-” One Peacekeeper jogged frantically, hands trembling in fear. “He just- He came out of nowhere. I’m so sorry, Miss.” 

“It’s alrig-” 

“-Come on.” Coriolanus hissed, cutting your apology off short. “We need to get her back quickly. Can you manage that?” He snapped at the other boy. 

The other boy faltered for a moment, scrambling back into line. You were still shaking, pushed into Corio’s side far closer than what would be appropriate for two strangers. “He-He was just saying sorry.” You muttered, your own eyes scanning around you. 

“He nearly got you killed.” Coriolanus snapped, his eyes hard but they never met your gaze, scanning around you protectively. “His carelessness nearly cost you your life.” Cost us all our lives, Corio thought. 

You didn’t respond, only stepping with his quickened pace. 

“Are you alright?” You asked Coriolanus, peeking around the corner of the train station towards him. 

He was surprised to see you, though he supposed he shouldn’t have been. He assumed the ‘Princess of Panem’ would have her own private carriage on the train, not subjected to riding with him. 

“I think I’m supposed to ask you that.” Corio gave a half smile, a tone much lighter than it was before. 

You blushed, looking down. “I’m alright.” You sighed lightly. “I told your Commander that. I promise I don’t need an escort back to The Capitol.” 

Coriolanus looked down at his bags. “I’m not- I’m returning to The Capitol as well.” He said, chest boasting at the words. 

“Oh?” You lifted a brow. “No District Two?” 

“No,” Corio shook his head. “I’ve been asked to return.” It was vague, and he knew it- knew it piqued your interest. 

“Well, congratulations. I’m sure your family will be excited.” You smiled politely, lifting your own overnight bag when the train doors opened. 

“Here,” Coriolanus stopped you, reaching for the strap of the bags. Your hands brushed in the smallest way. Overlapping as he took the bag politely, a surge of electricity jolted between both of you, rapid sparks that would crescendo in the days, weeks, years to come. 

You blushed, turning your head to hide the way it flustered you. It was so embarrassingly juvenile, his eyes sparkling, lips tugging in a grin when he looked at you, pinky grazing over your knuckle just for a moment before he held the bag. 

“Allow me.” Coriolanus was smug, proud, pulling the bag up. He let you on first, placing the bags away, eyes cutting towards you. You were stealing a glance at him, turning after being caught sheepishly. 

You had the window seat, looking out at the smoggy station. “Is this seat taken?” Corio asked, hand resting on the arm of the seat next to you. 

You shook your head, moving your hands to your lap. You were so poised, Corio knew it had been drilled into your head since you were young, just as it was to him. His mind raced with excitement, the idea of getting you to be so improper, defile you. 

“Do you know your orders once you return?” You asked, looking at him carefully. The trains whistle trilling in the background. 

“I’m not sure.” It was a complete lie, he only knew a fraction of what awaited him when he returned. All the more reason he needed an ally, a powerful one at that. 

“Why?” Corio pressed, leaning forward to look at you. His dog tags hung loosely around his neck, draping over his underclothes of his uniform. It made your heart race. 

“I was just curious.” You shrugged, swallowing gently. 

“You were wanting to see me again?” Corio pressed, boldly. His heart skipped when you whipped around, staring at him with a wide eyed expression. 

“W-What?” You choked out, trying to remain calm, composed, but your heart was beating so fastly you were sure it would burst. 

“Were you wanting to see me again?” Coriolanus hummed, shifting in his seat to turn towards you. You were pressed against the glass, pinned by his gaze. “Because I was hoping to see you again. If you’d have me.” 

“You would?” You squeaked, sure that your fluster was apparent all over your face. 

“If you’d let me.” Corio purred smoothly. “I’d like to take you out sometime. Get to know you better. I’m very,” His fingers brushed over your own hand, satisfied at how you shuddered. “Interested in getting to know you.” 

You swallowed. No man had ever been so direct with you. He’d saved you the night before, so effortlessly. The feeling of his bicep around you, shielding you away, strong and steady. It had you sneaking your fingers between your thighs later that night shamefully at the thought. 

“I-I would like that.” You nodded, mind screaming when his hand held your, cradled with such care, you almost forgot how brutal he was yesterday. 

“Tomorrow?” Coriolanus asked, head tilting to the side. He wanted to set the date before you forgot, before you had time to ask around about him or think too much about his actions before. 

“That-That would be lovely.” You nodded, tongue swelling thickly in your mouth, heart hammering as he pushed closer and closer. 

His hand cradled your jaw softly, thumb stroking over your cheek bone. “May I?” Corio hummed, eyes lustful. 

You nodded. You weren’t quite sure why, you’d certainly never done something like this before. But then his lips were on you, hand cradling your jaw, moving to the back of your head gently. He migrated into your chair, somewhere between the Districts, hands on your back, pulling you in closer and closer. He kissed you like a man starved, possessively and passionately all at once- it made your head spin. 

It dawned on Coriolanus, what Dr. Gaul was talking about. Sacrifice, while brutal, was necessary. Losing Lucy Gray, Sejanus, without that would it have ever brought you to him? He would be in the woods, starving with a girl who nearly used him to survive, or hanging from a tree next to Sejanus. Certainly not sitting side by side in the train car, stealing small smiles and gentle kisses with you. His fate had turned, re-routed and he could see it now- his future, his empire with you. 

[phoward89]

Obsessed!Coriolanus Snow x Innocent!Reader, Obsessed!Crassus Snow x Innocent!Reader, DILF!Crassus Snow

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. Cussing, obsession, smut, oral (f rec) , p in v, older man/younger woman, father & son both want the same girl, reader is just too sweet for this world and has no idea that the men in the Snow family are toxic...

This is the Crassus x Reader ending AKA ending 2.

It's kinda long.

Masterlist

Ending #2-Crassus

Coriolanus disappeared without a trace. Or at least that's what it felt like. Truth was, a couple of weeks after graduation he boarded a train to 8 as a peacekeeper grunt. Coriolanus received a conscription letter and was shoved off by his father General Crassus Snow.

Against his will.

Without Coriolanus by your side you fell into a depression. Yes, you received letters from him and the occasional phone call, but it wasn't the same. He wasn't physically around, like he's always been, and it hurt.

It hurt so much.

So goddamn much.

You felt so alone…

You thought that you were doing good job of hiding your hurt, your depression and loneliness. But you weren't.

No.

Crassus noticed it right away.

And he tried to swoop in and put a smile on your face by asking about your day or by suggesting you read a certain book in the library, but it never worked. Nothing worked to put a smile on your face.

The only time a faint smile appeared on your face was whenever Crassus handed you a letter from his son while shifting thru the mail after coming home from work. You'd always snatch it from him with a smile on your face. One that never quite reached your eyes.

You cherished Coryo's letters. He always complained about District 8 in them, but he’d also write a few lines about his feelings towards you. Always told you to wait for him; that he'd figure out a way to return to you.

Crassus, as cold and unfeeling of a man as he was, never kept his son's letters from you despite the fact that the middle-aged man wanted you as his next wife. His future First Lady. And why didn't he keep them from you?

Because he wanted to woo you away from his son’s affections. Crassus wanted the knowledge that he pursued you, courted you, and gave you somebody to confide in all the while Coriolanus was sending you letters that were borderline love letters.

Crassus wants you to pick him over his son, not because he made you, but because you want to.

Because you want him.

And having Coriolanus thousands of miles away serving in 8 would definitely help out with you picking the older Snow…

Out of sight, out of mind as they say.

“Petal, a letter for you from my son.” Crassus announces, holding the letter up for you to see as he stands in front of the fireplace shifting thru mail while you sit on the sofa watching CapitolTV.

Grandma'am was out visiting the neighbor, Pluribus, so it was just you and Crassus inside of the penthouse.

“Oh, thank you.” You thinly smile, rising from the sofa to go get your letter from the tall, stoic man that you've come to appreciate since you began living in the Snow's ancestral home.

Crassus knew that now was his chance to snatch you away from his bratty son. That now's the time to woo you. And how does he know?

By the thin, forced line of a smile on your face and the tight tone of your voice when you thank him for his son's letter.

“Y/N, I see how much you're suffering. Perhaps you'd like to talk about it with someone who's been deployed throughout Panem?” Crassus remarked, his voice low and thoughtful as he hands you over the letter.

“I'm fine, Crassus.” You lie, fingers brushing while taking the letter from him. “I don't need to talk about Coryo's deployment in 8, but thank you for the offer.” You assure the man towering over you while looking at the letter you're holding.

“You're not fine, petal.” Crassus tells you in a low, deep, all knowing tone.

It's unsettling since Coriolanus had told you the exact same thing one night before he was shipped off. He told you that you weren't fine; in a similar tone and manner that his father had just used on you right now.

You never noticed it before, but were Coriolanus and Crassus truly mirror images of each other?

“You haven't filled out your University admissions packet, so I surmise that you won't be attending. I also noticed how you sulk around, wasting your life waiting for a ghost.”

The packet was still untouched on his mahogany desk in his study. It was due weeks ago. Now that it's early September and the fall semester's starting soon, well, Crassus knows that it's too late for you to select a major of interest to study. That you won't be attending the University.

That doesn't bother him. In fact, Crassus prefers for you to be home with Grandma'am all day. You're a very beautiful Capitolite girl and in his mind you're better suited as a socialite. He's sure in time you'll get used to staying home and doing lady things all day such as luncheons, shopping, tea parties, etc.

“I-” You began, but your protest died on the tip of your tongue when Crassus cut you off with a blunt, “You can deny it all you want, but you fill your days moping over my son's absence.”

Of course, he saw right thru your facade. Crassus was a very perceptive man, a cunning one as well. He picked up on things that most people would overlook.

“You need to find a hobby to occupy your time; keep your thoughts off of things.” Crassus tells you knowingly. As if he has first hand experience in the matter.

Well, maybe he did.

“A hobby?”

“Yes.” He nods. “My mother has her rose garden; my late wife had her silly little songs and the piano.” The tall platinum blonde explains. He shifts his weight slightly on his feet while suggesting, “So perhaps you can find something as well.”

“Perhaps.” You parrot.

Maybe Crassus is right? Maybe a hobby will help you during Coryo's absence.

Crassus pecks you on the cheek before patting it and telling you, “Go on and read your letter. I'll be in my study reading my own mail.”

Without another word he walked away from you and into the direction of his office, a pile of mail in his hands.

You decided to take Crassus' advice and find a hobby to take your mind off of Coryo's deployment. After thinking about it, you realize that Crassus is right. You need to focus your energy on something else and since you're not in the best mindset to go to University (going to University was Coriolanus' dream; he wanted you to attend with him) a hobby is necessary.

At first you try your hand at gardening. You spent some time with Grandma’am in her rooftop rose garden, but you weren't a natural green thumb like she was. In fact, gardening seems to frustrate you.

Coriolanus was the botanist that thrived under Grandma'am Snow’s gardening lessons. Well, he did when he was still living in the Corso penthouse before he was conscripted into the Peacekeepers.

Anyways….

And since you weren't classically trained on the piano like Crassus' late wife, Demeter, you had only two other options for a hobby. Sewing or baking.

You weren't too handy with needlework and didn't want to bother Tigris with sewing lessons, because you knew that she'd start talking about Coryo. You couldn't handle that. The kind hearted young lady always meant well when she brought up Coryo, but it was a sore topic for you.

So, that left baking as your only hobby option.

But you had an old recipe book of your mother's from her native 12, so at least you had something to work with. You didn't have to bake blind without recipes.

Most of the recipes were for cookies. A couple for cakes, but mostly various cookies. Oh and bread. Lots and lots of bread.

Apparently, District 12 really loves their bread.

And on top of reading your cookbook you've been watching a baking show:

The Great Panem Bake Off

It's a baking competition where the best amateur bakers in all of Panem compete for a title and prize money. You began watching it for baking ideas and ended up writing down the recipes of the goodies that the judges liked.

After a few weeks of reading your mother's old recipe book and watching the baking show on CapitolTV, you decided to bake a batch of classic and simple sugar cookies.

So, one late afternoon while Grandma'am was tending to her magnificent rooftop rose garden you're in the kitchen hard at work baking a large batch of lemon zest and vanilla bean sugar cookies. Thankfully, living in Capitol City, Panem, you're able to procure the ingredients easily for your cookies.

You're so engrossed in making your cookie dough and baking off the tasty treats that your mind doesn't even focus on the missing member of the Snow family. Not once does Coriolanus cross your mind. No, the only thing crossing your mind is measuring out the ingredients and adding them to the bowl; mixing until firm and smooth. You're too busy letting the cookie dough chill and timing it to think about sulking over your best friend.

And when it's time to roll out the sugar cookie dough and cut the cookies out with a cutter, well, you can't even imagine thinking about anything but getting the cookies stamped out and onto the cookie sheet pan. A sheet pan lined with parchment to keep the cookies from burning and sticking (a tip you saw on the baking show).

You're so scared that if you leave the kitchen your batch of cookies will burn, despite having a timer set. So, you sit at the kitchen table reading a book that Crassus had recommended a few weeks back; waiting for the cookies to bake. Between the mouth watering aroma of fresh cookies filling the air and the intriguing plot line of the book you're reading, you're mind's too preoccupied to drift off to a melancholy about Coriolanus being gone.

Infact, it seems that Crassus was right about a hobby keeping your mind busy and off of things you can't change.

His son serving as Private Snow over in 8.

When the timer goes off you put on your floral printed oven mitts, which match your frilly apron, and pull the cookie sheet out of the oven. After setting the pan on the counter, you transfer the sweet treats to a cooling rack before rolling and cutting out another batch of cookies to place onto the sheet pan and back into the oven.

You’re sitting at the kitchen table, reading your book while waiting for the cookies to bake whenever you heard the front door open accompanied by the sound of Crassus' shoes echoing against the marble floor.

Crassus was home and all you could think of was getting his opinion on your cookies. Being a first time baker, you're afraid that they wouldn't be good. Even tho you followed the recipe religiously and everything seemed to turn out, you're still scared that your first foray into baking won't be successful.

So, you set your book down on the table, quickly rise to your feet, and grab a cookie from the cooling rack that's on the counter.

When you rush out of the kitchen, freshly baked cookie in hand, you see Crassus is starting to cross the foyer. He stops when he sees you, nose sniffing at the air, as his icy blue eyes take in the excited smile on your face.

From the smell wafting from the kitchen paired with the frilly floral apron you're wearing, the general concludes that you've taken up baking. He thinks it's good that you found something to occupy your days with.

Crassus is a tall man, even taller than his son, so he towers over you as you stand before him. Before he could make a comment on your new hobby, you grab him by the shirt and yank him down to your eye level- only to shove a freshly baked sugar cookie into his mouth.

“How is it? Do I need to tweek anything?” You ask, watching Crassus try not to choke on a large mouthful of cookie.

The middle-aged man’s large hand comes up to his mouth to pull the cookie out while he chews on the piece that's nearly choking him. You look at him with such innocence and patience while awaiting his verdict on your first attempt at baking cookies. Oh, and how your doe eyes has Crassus' knees buckling.

The cold, hard former soldier can't help, but to feel like a schoolboy again as you watch him chew his large mouthful. Oh, how embarrassing to feel like that over a young pretty girl shoving a sugar cookie into his mouth and looking at him like an angel sent from the heavens while awaiting his judgment on the sweet treat.

For some reason, swallowing down the cookie takes more effort than it should. Perhaps Crassus' throat feels tighter, as if it's closing up on him, because of the near intimate position you're in. Your face is mere inches away from his as he's hunched down into your space with your hand still tightly fisted into his shirt; keeping him in place.

Oh gods, how the man's mind is drifting off to dirty places…

“It's good.” Crassus finally answers after what feels like an eternity, but in reality was only a minute.

“You really think so?” You ask, genuinely surprised, as the icy eyed man in front of you just stares at you as if you hung the moon and stars.

A look he hasn't given anyone in a very, very long time.

“Yes,” He nods. “It's very good, petal.”

You're so happy that Crassus likes your cookie; that your first attempt at baking as your new hobby was successful. Honestly, you were scared that they wouldn't turn out. But it seems that you had nothing to worry about.

Without saying a word, you let go of Crassus' shirt and rush back into the kitchen to check on your latest batch of cookies. Crassus just shakes his head, clutching his briefcase his one hand and his half eaten cookie in the other, as a ghost of a smile slowly appears on his lips.

It seems like your innocence and warmth might be melting the cold Snow.

After the day you shoved a cookie into Crassus' mouth; nearly choking him, he's become your official taste tester for anything that you bake. He doesn't mind, in fact Crassus enjoys your baking. He has quite the sweet tooth even if he denies it.

Grandma'am enjoys when you bake chocolate treats and even Tigris enjoys your baking. She prefers your puddings. The warm hearted girl stops by from time to time to visit Grandma’am and you always give her some baked goods to take home.

All in all, your depression has dissipated and your mind's occupied with baking. You don't feel a heavy dark rain cloud over your head anymore, but instead you feel as if the sun’s shining down on you. You feel so much lighter, as if a weight has been taken off your shoulders.

And over the last few months you've grown closer to Crassus due to your baking. You looked forward to greeting him every evening when he came home with something you baked, asking him to taste it and tell you what he thought. And Crassus would always tell you that your sweet treats were good, great even.

That man loves everything you give him. From cookies to brownies to puddings to cakes to breads, he enjoys them all. Hell, he even has you pack some up for his coworkers at the Ministry of War.

Yes, cold and stern General Crassus Snow brought in baked goods to work to share with his coworkers. Honestly, he did it to brag about your baking skills. To show you off. To claim you as his in a way because women just don't bake for any man, they bake for their man.

And Crassus Snow views himself as your man.

He's been obsessed with making you his for a while; now he's succeeding in doing so.

But you don't mind his obsessive tendencies towards you. In fact, you welcome them because at least you're not lonely with him around.

And talk about being lonely, you found out from Crassus that his son, Coryo, was anything but lonely while off serving in District 8. His contacts told him that Coriolanus had taken up with a local district girl; had been with her for a while too.

Hearing that made you feel incredibly stupid for promising Coriolanus that you'd wait for him. Here you are being true blue to him while Private Snow's out fucking some district whore from 8. You wonder what she has that you don't have. Is she prettier than you? Maybe she's smarter or something? You dunno, but it hurts that he's cheating while you're waiting faithfully for him.

Aside from being hurt, you're pissed as hell. How dare he do this to you! Who the hell does he think he is? You're a proper Capitolite girl, you deserve better than what he's giving you.

Safe to say, you're a bit salty about Coryo's extra curricular activities in District 8 while serving as Private Snow in the Peacekeepers. Fucking bastard…

But at least you have your baking to help you thru it. Baking and Crassus' friendship that is.

But one day while you're baking cookies for the Yule holiday, the phone rings and you answer it only to be met with the one man you really don't want to talk to right now.

Coryo.

He tells you about some Elite Officer's Exam he took and you confronted him about his district whore. He denied it; even told you he loved you and wanted you to join him in 2 as soon as he got settled there- after passing his exams and officially being transferred that is.

And if that wasn't enough to turn your world upside down, a breaking news alert appeared on CapitolTV that would shatter Panem's heart.

It's late at night and Grandma'am’s asleep in her room while you're in the living room watching an old detective noir movie with Crassus. You're on the sofa, body softly nestled into Crassus’ side while his arm’s loosely slung around you, whenever the movie was interrupted by a news break announcing the death of President Ravenstill due to his ill health.

You're shocked to say the least. The very least. A president dying in office without a successor had never happened before in Panem's history. Normally, a president would step down if deathly ill or eldery; an election would be held to name a successor and the incumbent would pass over the baton.

President Ravenstill’s death turned the system upside down and on its head. So much so, that you ask the middle-aged man your sitting on the couch with what's going to happen to Panem now that the president’s dead. The platinum blonde man explained that the Senate would rule Panem with the help of the ministries and the late President Ravenstill’s cabinet.

Crassus also surprised you by announcing that he’s going to enter his name has a presidential candidate under the Old Guard political party. He also made a remark about how when he wins you'll be baking in the grand kitchen of the Presidential Palace. That you'll even be giving the palace bakers some of your recipes.

Everything feels so surreal; your entire day feels like a dream. A winter’s dream that can't be real, but in fact it's real. It's very real.

And to top off your day; mark the night as unbelievable, Crassus placed a hand on your chin only to tip your head to the side and capture your lips with a kiss.

A firm, but passionate kiss that caught you completely off guard.

You weren't expecting him to kiss you, but it only took a few seconds before your brain and body got on the same page and you're responding to his kiss. Your hands wrap around his neck as your lips press together. One of his hands goes to your hip while the other tangles in your hair.

You let out a breathy moan at the feel of his tongue sweeping along your bottom lip; asking silent permission to deepen the kiss. Permission that you granted by slightly parting your mouth just enough for Crassus to slide his tongue inside.

Your kiss with Crassus felt different then all the kisses you shared with Coryo- his son. Coryo's kisses always felt so needy and rushed, but with Crassus they're passionate albeit languid. It's as if the middle-aged man has all the time in the world to explore your mouth with his deeply impassioned kisses; to savor your reaction to his tongue tangling with yours, flicking against your bottom lip teasingly.

The way Crassus' lips firmly sweep over yours over and over again sparks a flaming heat inside of you. A need appears unlike anything you've ever felt before and, unable to stop yourself, you're slightly rolling your hips against him in an attempt to ease the growing ache in your core. And when Crassus breaks the kiss so the two of you can get some much need air into your lungs, you're looking at him wit lust in your doe-eyes.

Crassus can't help, but to flip you onto your back and smirk while slotting himself between your legs that have spread open on their own accord. He runs his knuckles along your cheek, only to hold your hip in his other hand. Crassus’ grip on your hip his strong, but sensual, as his other hand trails down your neck. Your chest heaves up and down as you look up at him, pupils blown wide.

“You feel what you do to me, petal?” Crassus asks, his voice low and thick, as he grinds his large cock, that's straining painfully in his pants, against your aching core.

The action has you soaking your panties. Just the feel of his bulge makes you ache, makes your pussy wetter then it already is. His cock, although trapped in the confines of his slacks, feel so large and heavy against your heated core.

“Crassus, please…” You moan needily.

"Shhh,” Crassus brings a finger up to your lips to shush you. “don’t make a noise, baby.” He dips his head down so his breath is fanning your face and his hand that's on your hip slides under your skirt, his fingertips teasingly sliding up and down your thigh. “We dont want mother to wake up now, would you?" Crassus rhetorically asks, nipping at a sweet spot right below your ear.

“We're really doing this here?” You ask, voice no more than a whisper, against his finger that was still resting against your lips.

Crassus trails his finger down your lower lip, that's bruised from his kisses, over your chin, and down the collum of your neck while telling huskily answering you with a low, “Yes.”

His lips captures yours in another searing kiss, one that shows off his years of experience, as his finger turns into his palm grasping at your breast. You moan into the kiss, your hands burying into his hair and your hips canting up slightly as Crassus toys with the wet patch right in the middle of your panties.

He pulls back from the kiss, only to slyly smirk. “I’m gonna prep you real good for my cock, baby.” Crassus scooted down the length of the couch until his head’s between your spread legs.

Legs that are shaking.

Crassus swiftly bunches your skirt up past your hips before curling his forefingers into the elestatic of your panties. “Lift your hips up for me, petal.” He orders in a low tone that's fire and ice to your ears.

Nodding, you do as you're told- resulting in Crassus pulling your panties off and licking a stripe up your wet cunt. He eases a long finger into your tight pussy while giving your clit a few kitten licks, causing you to wither from his touch.

Crassus' icy eyes hold your gaze as he slowly pumps his finger in and out of your pussy, his tongue flicking your clit expertly. You feel your cheeks grow hot, but you can't make yourself pull your gaze away from his. It's as if his light cerulean eyes have you under a spell. A spell you just can't find it in yourself to break.

Crassus pulls his lips away from your clit with a wet pop. With his eyes still on you, he says, “You're so tight, baby. I'm gonna add another finger, just let me know if it hurts.”, before slipping his middle finger inside of you alongside his pointer finger.

“I'm okay, Crassus. Please, keep going.” You told him, placing a hand in his platinum hair to encourage him to continue eating you out.

“As you wish, petal.” He tells you before going back to teasing your cunt with his skilled tongue while pumping his fingers in and out of your wet, tight hole.

Your breath hitches and you bite back a moan whenever you feel his fingertips curl up against the spongy spot hidden deep inside of you. He grins against your cunt at your reaction to his ministrations.

“Think you can handle a third finger?” Crassus asked, even tho he was planning on squeezing his ring finger into your dripping cunt no matter what your answer is.

He's a very blessed man when it comes to the size of his cock. He's large, both in length and girth, so he wants to stretch you out with his fingers as much as possible. Plus, the feeling of your tight cunt clenching around his fingers is sending all of his blood straight to his hard rock; making it even harder than he thought possible.

“I can handle it, Crassus.” You answer, chest heaving and voice wispy, as you feel a knot tightening in your lower belly.

Crassus wraps his lips around your clit, sucking hard, while stuffing you full with three of his long fingers. His ego was soaring as he heard your tiny, strangled moans mixed with the gushing sound your wet cunt made as he fingered you fast and hard while sucking and nipping at your clit. He groaned into your cunt as he felt your hands tightly holding his hair while shoving his face deeper into your cunt.

“Crassus, I'm close.” You tell him, bucking your hips in an attempt to find relief to the feelings quaking inside of you from the feelings of the middle-aged man's skilled fingers stretching you and his tongue swirling around your puffy clit.

Your thighs are shaking around Crassus' head, but he doesn't care. No, not when you're so close to cumming. Hell, he could die with his head crushed by your thighs and he'd die a happy man with your sweet tangy taste on his tongue.

His fingers curl against your g-spot just right at the same time his teeth graze against your clit, sending you over the edge. You cum with a silent scream, bucking your hips wildly.

It was unlike anything you ever felt in your life. You swear, you're seeing stars as you cum.

Crassus groans and laps up everything that you give him. You're messily dripping and all he can do is eagerly lick you clean. Oh, how your taste drives him wild.

He backs away from your cunt, only to look you in the eye while sucking your taste off of his fingers. “Sweetest thing I've ever tasted, baby.” Crassus smirks, his low tone oozing lust. And it has your cheeks flushing and your pussy growing wet- again.

Crassus quickly unbuckles his belt and pulls his pants down to his thighs. Your eyes widen as you see the large bulge pressing against his boxers, thanks to the glowing light the TV was casting in the room. You quickly realize, before he even pulls down his boxers, that Crassus’ dick is bigger than Coriolanus’. And that fact makes you both nervous and excited.

Crassus knows that once he enters your cunt he's a goner, that he'll most likely lose control. He's so pent up since his career at the Ministry of War along with his side job as an arms dealer; overlooking his assets in 13 doesn't leave him much time in his schedule to go out and fuck somebody. The gods know that he's always busy doing something.

But between his obsession with you and having your pussy in his grasp, well, he's sure that he's not sleeping a wink tonight. And neither are you.

“Sling your leg over the back of the couch, petal.” Crassus orders while pulling down his boxers; setting his very long and thick cock free to slap up against his stomach. A stomach that's still covered by his shirt. “I need your legs spread wide, as wide as possible, for me.”

“Okay.” You nod, adjusting your legs to spread wide in the way that he wanted them.

“Relax, baby, I'll take good care of you.” Uttered Crassus before pushing his cock into your wet cunt.

You bite your lip and claw at his muscular back as you feel his cock splitting you in two. Yes, you're not a virgin and had a big cock fucking you for a week back in late July/early August, but being stretched by Crassus' cock had you feeling like you're losing your virginity all over again. Clearly, your hole had tightened up after months of not being fucked- resulting in the uncomfortable feeling you're experiencing as the handsome man hovering above you pushes his fat dick into you at a steady pace.

Crassus knows your not a virgin since he didn't meet the resistance of your barrier, so he quickly realizes that you're so painfully tight because you haven't been properly fuck in a long time. Hell, he doubts you've been properly fucked at all considering the last man you most likely fucked wasn't a real man at all, but a green schoolboy.

“You can take it, baby. You took my fingers so well, I know you can take all of my cock?” Crassus praises and encourages you while sinking deeper and deeper into your tight cunt.

And when he's finally balls deep inside of your tight cunt, which is literally stretched to the max, his icy eyes roll to the back of his head and he lets out a tiny grunt.

Crassus gives you a couple of minutes to accommodate his size before he's pumping his cock in and out of your pussy at a steady, but deep pace. One of his hands is on your hip while the other’s resting on the thigh of your leg that's strewn over the back of the sofa. Your arms are wrapped around him, hands on his back, as you feel the veins of his cock gliding against your inner walls as he fucks into you- making you mewl.

“Remember, we can't be too loud.” Crassus reminds you, his deep voice a whisper that sending butterflies fluttering deep inside your belly.

“I’m n-not being t-too loud.” You protest, falling over your words and trying not to moan as you feel Crassus' cock hit your g-spot.

Your nails dig into his back and he triumphantly smirks. Oh, yes, you're enjoying this as much, if not more, then he is.

“Keep it that way and I'll reward you by letting you scream on top of your lungs when I fuck you in my room within the next half hour.” Crassus tells you, his husky voice dripping with dominance, as he fucks into you even harder.

You can't believe your ears. Crassus wants to fuck you again- tonight! And in his bed!

Something about that revelation does something to you; has you cumming around his cock while choking back a moan that wants to bubble out.

The feel of your tight cunt clenching around his cock along with the feeling of you creaming it triggers off Crassus' orgasm. He cums, painting your walls white with his seed, while kissing your lips feverishly to keep himself from moaning and grunting too loudly.

Fucking Crassus Snow wasn't just a one time thing. In fact, it was something that occured regularly between the two of you. So much so that you took to sleeping in his bed instead of in your own room.

You doubt that Grandma'am knew what was going on between you and her son. She never brought it up; never gave you odd looks either. In fact, she seems to smile every time she sees Crassus peck you on the cheek before taking off to do something, greeting you, or sending you on your way.

Plus, as time went on, Grandma'am seemed too occupied with Crassus' campaign for the presidency to pick up on anything happening in the penthouse. Whether that be lingering interactions between you and her son or your own building anxiety.

And of course Crassus was too busy with both his campaign and his work at the Ministry of War to notice you growing more anxious. Or at least that's what you thought.

But Crassus is a very observant man and he truly does notice your anxiety. He just thinks it's due to his campaign; that you're nervous about how he'll do in the primary election that's being held in a handful of months to determine the two presidential candidates that’ll go head to head in the main election for the presidency come November.

He has no idea why you're truly anxious.

Coriolanus isn't Private Snow anymore, but he's now Elite Officer Snow since he passed his exams, or at least Crassus told you that's what he heard from his contact. Crassus also told you that his son's most likely going to bring his district whore with him whenever he transfers to 2.

So, of course you're anxious about what to do when it comes to Coryo. Especially since all calls and letters from the younger Snow have ceased. You can't help, but wonder if he truly does want you to join him or if he really did bring a district whore with him.

A district whore he denied having in the first place.

And then there's the subject of Crassus, your lover and Coriolanus' father. You can't help, but wonder if fucking you’s just something he does to relieve stress since you're around. He's so busy with his career and politics that he rarely spends time with you, unless it's in his bedroom.

Yes, yes, he still taste tests your baking, but know he's having you bake for his campaign workers and volunteers that it feels like he's just testing what you bake to make sure that it's edible for his entourage. It doesn't feel like he's genuinely eating your baked goods anymore.

Unlike Coryo, Crassus has never once told you that he loves you. Hasn't even told you that he cares. At least Coryo claims to love you. If Crassus truly felt something for you, wouldn't he vocalize it?

You go on worrying yourself with so many thoughts of Coryo and Crassus until one day you finally receive a letter in the mail from the younger Snow. Crassus gives it to you, like he always does, before pecking you on the cheek and going to his office to do some paperwork for his campaign.

You read Coryo’s letter, only to discover that he's living at the Nut in 2 and wants you to join him. Enclosed in the letter’s a train ticket to District 2- dated for the following morning.

That letter has you reeling as you shove it along with the ticket back into the envelope. You place the letter on the desk in your room, a room you never use anymore.

You're weighing the words you read in the letter as you lay in bed, waiting for Crassus to join you. But when he finally does come to bed, he makes you forget all about the letter. At least he does for a little while as his body's on top of yours, fucking into your tight cunt with fervent vigor.

But as you're basking in the afterglow of your fucking with Crassus, you can't help, but to wonder what the two of you are. And the nagging question has you asking, “What are we? Do you even love me? Or am I just a stress reliever for you?", as you lay pressed into Crassus' side with your hand on his chest.

Your question starles Crassus. He blinks his pale blue eyes and the hand that's resting on your shoulder starts to rub soothing circles into it. He thought that you already knew what the two of you are, but now he knows he thought wrong. Looking down at you, he gives you the honest answer of, “You're not a stress reliever for me, petal. You're so much more than that. You're my second chance of a woman's love; you're my obsession, baby.”

Right there and then his answer soothes the worry in your soul and you decide to stay with him.

Crassus, not one for being overly affectionate since he is, after all a stern man by nature, decides to move past his love confession by changing the subject with, “Well, petal, I did promise to let you be in control of round 2 if I made a noise first.” With a smirk, he takes a hold of your hips and starts to guide you to straddle his waist while remarking, "We better get you on top, huh?”

And as you ride Crassus all thoughts of that letter and the train ticket disappear forever. It's just a piece of junkmail that you'll throw in the trash come morning.

Crassus, not one for giving up control, gives you the illusion that you're in control as he lets you ride in, but in fact stays in complete control of you by guiding your hips at the speed he wants you to go. He even pulls off his dog tags (he's never once taken them off because once a soldier, always a soldier) and puts them over your head; letting you wear them as you ride him. It's a way of marking you as his, having you wear his dog tags while fucking.

And when he grabs them, only to pull you down for a kiss, he nearly loses his mind whenever you tell him, “You're a good boy, Crassus.”, with your lips ghosting against his as you bounce up and down on his cock with ease.

Your words make him realize that you have a dom side; that you're a switch since you always let him be the dom in bed. It does something to him, makes his cock get impossibly harder, knowing that you can be dominant when you want. That you can say words of praise that sound filthy flowing from your lips in a tone that's a bit more sultry and masterful.

All of those sudden revelations had Crassus losing control. And suddenly, he's telling you, “Oh, I'll show you how good of a boy I can be.”, while bucking up into you at an unyielding and brutal pace causing you both to moan and grunt until you cum together.

You threw the letter containing the ticket to District 2 in the trash. You never told Crassus about it either. You didn't feel the need to since you picked him.

Coriolanus waited for you at the train station all day, only for you to stand him up. That made him angry. He was insulted that you didn't listen to him; that you most likely told his father about the plans for you to move to 2- that his father must've stopped you. Hell, Coriolanus felt like an idiot waiting for you only for you to stand him up.

As he walked home alone, Elite Officer Snow realized that his father had won. That General Crassus Snow had taken you from him.

He also thinks that you're a dumb bitch for not listening to him whenever he warned you about his father having a thing for you.

And a few months later, in October before the presidential elections are held, First Lieutenant Coriolanus Snow is invited to his father General Crassus Snow's wedding.

To your wedding.

Coriolanus didn't want to go, but went only because it'd look bad for his Air Force career if he snubbed his father's wedding. All of his superiors thought that General Crassus Snow, the war hero of the rebellion, was one of the best military minds on the planet. So, he was stuck going.

Coriolanus brought his wife, a pretty little thing from the districts, with him. He has her on his arm, all dolled up in a cerulean blue dress. Her hair's up in some simple updo so you notice the faint scars on her back, from where they pop out from her dress, right away.

And that's when you knew you made the right choice in picking Crassus. You remember that Coriolanus once told you a story about how he turned a girl in for thievery and helped her leave the town square once her punishment, a whipping, was done. You remember he told you that story when you confronted him about seeing somebody in District 8. But now you know that First Lieutenant Snow was using his charm to lie to you; that he really did cheat on you.

You suppose that he pulled some strings and sent for his district girl once you failed to show up at the train station in 2. You're glad that he's not alone, that he has his district whore- as Crassus refers to the girl as.

You got stuck sharing one dance with Coriolanus, being his new stepmother and all, and he let you know how he felt about you being Mrs. Crassus Snow during your waltz.

“It should've been me marrying you, not my father, Y/N.” Coriolanus told you, his face a mask of indifference as his baby blue eyes blazed with anger. “I can't believe you let him seduce you; steal you away from me.”

Narrowing your eyes at the man that used to be your best friend, you explain your situation with, “Crassus never seduced me or stole me from you, Coriolanus. We became friends while I was dealing with your absence and one thing led to another.”

“He'll never love you the way that I do, my darling rose.”

“Don't talk to me about loving me, Coriolanus. Not when you're married to some district girl.”

“My wife might be district but at least she's loyal to me, is grateful for everything that I've done for her- unlike you who jumped into bed with my own goddamn father.” Coriolanus darkly hissed before storming off, ending your dance and leaving you on the dance floor.

Crassus just raised a brow and asked you what happened once you left the dance floor and returned to his side at the table on the dias- high up on display in the ballroom since you're the newlyweds.

You just told him that you had Coriolanus didn't approve of each other's spouses and that he stormed off after trying to make his wife seem like a better woman than you. Crassus laughed and told you not to pay too much attention to his bratty son. That he's always been full of piss and vinegar when he couldn't get his way.

Crassus won the presidential election by a landslide. One of the first things he did was intergrade District 13 back into Panem. And since the former sovereign nation was a great source of income for Crassus due to his nuke factories there, District 13 was put on a pedestal. They had rights similar to those in the Capitol while the other 12 districts still had to participate in the games.

Yes, your husband kept the Hunger Games. You think it's because they're so popular, but the truth his your husband finds the way his drunken class project blossomed into a spectacle that the Capitolites adore fascinating. Plus, Crassus was a cold, stern man that was a military genius. The president saw the merits of keeping the districts under control by using the games as a lifelong punishment.

At least your husband did improve some of the living and working conditions in the Districts. He told you that that people needed a little bit of hope to keep from rebelings, but also a firm hand to guide them and keep them in line. Crassus said it was all checks and balances.

And when Dr. Gaul approached President Crassus Snow with an amendment that would have all children born in the districts, including ones born on PK Bases, be legal district citizens and registered for the games, well, your husband approved it.

You wondered how your brother felt about that. If he ever married his girl in 12, where he was serving as an officer in the peacekeepers, or if he had a family. You'd never know those answers since he disowned you after receiving your wedding invite. He was pissed about the situation, said some nasty things, and literally disowned you.

You never thought about Coriolanus and his wife, whether or not they had children. Why would you? Coriolanus never wrote, never had anything to do with you or Crassus being his ego was bruised by your wedding.

Talk about children, Crassus had given you three beautiful children. Two sons and a daughter. Javani, Xanthos, and Mara.

Javani was the oldest and he, to your surprise, favored your late father in looks and temperment. Or at least Crassus told you he did. In fact, your husband always chuckles that the only thing Javani got from him is his platinum hair while everything else is from your family's genes.

Xanthos and Mara are Snows inside and out, from dawn to dusk, tho.

And when Javani is 18 he's selected to be a mentor for the Hunger Games since he's a very intelligent young man and is in the top 24 of his class. But what made his mentorship memorial and unusual was that, by a twist of fate, his assigned tribute was his nephew.

Yes, Javani Snow’s tribute was Cassian Snow, from District 2. Cassian's the first born child of Major Coriolanus Snow and his wife, a district woman you never bothered to learn the name of.

And, it's sad to say, after seeing Coriolanus' son get reaped and assigned to Javani as his tribute to mentor, you know in your heart of hearts that you made the right decision in staying with Crassus; marrying him and becoming First Lady Snow. Because your children are safe from the games.

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[x-gabrielle-x]

Tides Of Survival | 3

Pairings: Finnick Odair x Reader.

Warnings: Blood, gore, violence, murder, swearing, major and minor injuries, death, (eventual) smut, mentions of prostitution.

Summary: The white swan of the Capitol; gracious, elegant, and innocent. You catch many of the Capitol's attention in your games, whether that was due to your agility, cleverness, or looks in all, even managing to capture the gaze of your young mentor and old friend, Finnick Odair.

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"The female tribute for the sixty-fifth Hunger Games... Gwenn Livestone!"

You felt a wave of relief wash over you as soon as the name was spoken. It wasn't you; you were safe for another year. A pang of sympathy struck when you saw a younger girl crumble to the floor in sobs. Blonde and small, she couldn't have been any older than twelve. Her body shook violently in trembles, and her desperate cries filled the hall in echoes. Nobody spoke, only watched as the girl at her side, possibly a friend or classmate, attempted to get her back onto her shaky feet.

Two Peacekeepers strode over within seconds, grasping the young girl from under her arms and practically dragging her up the stairs of the stage. Her wails grew louder, and her face was streaked with hot tears. You watched as the two Peacekeepers roughly threw her to the floor in a heap, her crying out at the impact against her knees.

You noticed Electra Vantell, the escort for this year's tributes, visibly cringe at the noise. There was no sadness you could detect on her painted face, only the wide grin that practically split her face in half. She went to awkwardly cover her ears, waving her hand dismissively at the girl, Gwenn.

"Oh, hush now. You don't need to make your cries any louder," she spoke, and you watched as Gwenn tried desperately to hold in her tears.

Electra dressed head to toe in a twinkling blue as if to match with the sea. Her hair was styled as if to mimic the District Four waves, and you could faintly see the small details of what looked to be fish on her dress. You wondered how it could ever be comfortable to wear, your skin feeling itchy just by looking at it.

Clearing her throat into the microphone, voice chirpy as ever, she spoke.

"And for the boys..."

As if it were instinct, you turned your head to the left in search of a pair of green eyes and a mop of blonde hair. Through the crowd of boys, you managed to spot Finnick hidden within them a few rows back, however he wasn't looking at you. His gaze was set forward, stoic and hard, his shoulders tense with nerves. Usually, you could read Finnick easily, but now as you looked at him, you wondered what was going through his head. His jaw was clenched and hair dishevelled, and you found yourself unable to look away. Even as your stomach was churning at the small possibility, Finnick seemed to be holding his emotions much better than you.

Electra's voice broke your thoughts, and you watched with your heart hammering as she reached into the round fishbowl, digging her hand in and swirling the slips of paper around as if taunting. Finally grasping a small slip between her thin fingers, she eagerly unfolded it before reading over the name.

"Finnick Odair!"

The bile rose into your throat, heart plummeting like it had been ripped from you.

Finnick Odair was now a tribute.

You hoped, prayed, that it was nothing more than a horrible nightmare. A nightmare that you'd be able to laugh about with him when you woke up, but reality set in when you turned back to where you originally saw Finnick. He stepped out of the crowd and began walking his way toward the stage, no falter or hesitation in his steps.

This was very, very real.

He sauntered past, all eyes trained on him and even some small gasps emitting from the crowd. Finnick was a well-loved boy within the district. You could barely hold yourself up right when for only a brief moment, his gaze flickered to yours. Still, you couldn't place his expression, and it bothered you beyond belief. He shouldn’t ever have to be hiding his emotions from you.

You even felt the stares of many others on you - all filled with pity. It was no secret that the two of you were close. His gaze averted away from you quickly as he stepped up the short steps and stood tall beside a trembling Gwenn.

Despite the pain in your chest, despite the loss you felt, despite your fear, you didn’t feel any tears. You couldn't, wouldn’t cry now. You could only keep your eyes locked on him, looking over him and all his features as though it may just be the last time.

Perhaps it was.

You didn't listen to any more of Electra's ridiculous comments. You didn't even notice the hall slowly begin to empty out. It wasn't until you watched Finnick and Gwenn being escorted into a smaller room behind them that you were already moving on your feet, practically stumbling due to your knees nearly giving out.

You ran to the Peacekeepers stood in front of the door they'd just entered, the wood and paint chipped away with age. Your heart was pounding with fear, the thought that they'd leave without getting a goodbye was terrifying.

The Peacekeepers only stood in silence as you swallowed thickly, fingers itching to pull at your dress uncomfortably with every passing second.

"I need to see Finnick Odair. Please." Your voice cracked at the end, and this time you could feel the hot tears gathering at your waterline, threatening to spill. With only a curt nod, the first Peacekeeper swung open the door.

"Three minutes," he said behind the mask, but you were already running in before he could finish. You heard the door click quietly behind you, and looking over to your right in the small room, there he sat.

Finnick was already facing you, and instead of the stoic expression he held only minutes before, his face was streaked with tears. He was sat on a poorly made wooden chair, knuckles white as he clenched them into fists.

"Finn." Your voice broke, and your tears began to fall freely.

Upon hearing your voice, his head snapped up just in time to see you throwing yourself into his arms, sobbing. He held you tighter than ever, your tears soaking into the fabric of his sea-blue shirt. You felt his body shake in your hold as you grasped at him tighter, feeling his warmth and inhaling his scent.

"Please, Finn." Your voice was muffled with sobs, and you weren't even sure he could fully understand what you were saying. Not with him sniffling into your shoulder, holding back his own cries. "Please come back home.”

You pulled away only slightly to get a good look at his face. Despite his eyes being slightly red from crying, they were still their vibrant green.

He bit his lip, hard, looking at you as his gaze flickered over your face as if trying to remember every curve, every freckle, every dimple. He lightly shook his head, mind searching for words.

"I will," he assured. You could hear the unease in his tone despite him trying to appear confident. "I will," he repeated as if trying to make himself believe it. He even attempted to flash a small smile, though it barely masked his fear.

"You will," you confirmed with a wobbling lip. You glanced down at your hand, taking a step away from him and pulling off the small bracelet from your wrist. Finnick watched with furrowed brows as you took his hand into your own, placing the bracelet onto his wrist.

He examined it carefully. Seashells of varying colors and a small worn string. He knew this bracelet well.

He shook his head. "I can't take this, Y/N."

He tried to take it off, but you quickly stopped him.

"I want you to have it as your token." You attempted a weak smile. "It was important to my Ma; I want you to have it."

He stared down at it, glancing back up at you and pulling you into one last crushing hug. You accepted just as fast, your grip tighter when you heard the door swing open again behind you.

"Times up."

Before you were pulled away from him, he whispered one last thing into your ear.

“I’ll win, I promise.”

You felt your grip slip when the Peacekeeper took you by the arm, and the last you saw of Finnick was his piercing eyes locked on your own.

You didn't know whether you were relieved that Finnick quickly became a Capitol favorite or unsettled by the fact he was adored so much.

The first few days after Finnick had arrived in the Capitol, it was no secret that he quickly became a favorite. His charm, confidence, cunningness and striking looks had them obsessed. He showed none of the fear he held when you last saw him. He refused to let them see. Instead, as his carriage strode through the streets, he held his bright, dashing smile that caused for loud cheers and praise. His hand was up in the air as he waved into the crowd, though you knew Finnick all too well. You could see the hesitation in each wave through the small television in your home, the unease in his eyes behind every smile, the way his fingers gripped at the edge of the carriage like a source of stability.

They loved him, but for all the wrong reasons.

He was layered in beautiful fabrics, a combination of bright blues and greens as if to mimic seaweed and the shimmering ocean. A knotted rope dangled from around his neck like a necklace and his torso was left bare. Jewels and pearls were weaved delicately into the fabric at his waist that glimmered within the bright lights. Beside him, Gwenn was dressed mostly similarly, though her hair was curled into loose waves and adorned in seashells. The clothes she was dressed in did little to cover her body, and you couldn't imagine how she must've felt with all the prying eyes. She looked so tiny and out of place compared to Finnick who stood beside her looking tall and proud, shrinking into herself and hands desperately trying to cover anything they could.

Throughout the rest of the week, Finnick and the rest of the tributes hadn't been shown much. You figured it was because they'd be training within the Capitol, preparing for what the games were to bring. It made you physically ill, and every few hours you were running to the bathroom to empty the contents within your stomach at the thought. Your poor father had tried everything in his best efforts even whilst at work. He couldn't afford to take any days off, so he'd ask friends from your school to come and check in on you every so often. Later in the evening when he was home, he'd sit beside you and offer any bits of food he could get you to eat.

“You need to eat, baby,” he pressed his lips to your forehead as he held up a fork to put into your hand. You took it, but only poked and prodded at the food set on the plate before you.

“Finnick is strong and smart,” he said, hand brushing through your hair. “He’ll be fine.”

Even during the night, your father would slowly peek through the crack in your door only to find you curled up into a ball and crying into the sheets on your bed. All he could do was sit beside you and hold you close, murmuring apologies into your ear which only made you feel worse. Why was he apologising for things that were beyond his control? He shouldn’t have to apologise; it wasn’t him bringing you, or Finnick, this pain.

The day the interviews were being broadcast you were already at the edge of your seat. It had been a while since you'd seen Finnick’s face, heard his voice. The moment Caesar announced for the District Four male tribute to enter the stage, you nearly jumped off your seat when Finnick walked into view. Clad in fishing nets and seaweed-like fabrics, he strode in as if he'd owned the stage. Again, his expression held no signs of fear or anger, only the act that he'd seemed to have perfected for the audience over the weeks. Caesar's booming laughter filled the room at every one of Finnick's jokes and comments to the crowd. The Capitol's Sweetheart, Caesar had named him.

"Finnick," Caeser cackled, wiping away a fake tear. "Your District must love you! You do plan to win these games, don't you?"

Finnick, charming as ever, flashed a grin into the crowd. "Of course. I'd be leaving too many good things behind if I didn't. Plus, I made a promise.”

When the morning of the games arrived, you found that you didn't sleep at all throughout the night. Plagued with nightmares and what you hoped would never happen. You were a wreck. Your head was throbbing from days without proper food and water, and you were exhausted. The moment the games had begun to be live-streamed, you refused to move from your seat, gaze glued to the screen. A part of you wanted to watch, to ensure that Finnick was ok and well protected, though the other part of you wanted nothing more than to look away from the bloodshed and gore. You had to keep a bucket at your side, face pale and flushed.

The fear within you was haunting. You weren't sure how you'd cope if somebody were to drive a giant blade through Finnick's abdomen or watch as he struggled to survive without food.

The moment the gong had gone off; you watched as he launched himself off his plate and dashed toward the cornucopia. Within seconds there was death and bloodshed. You'd realized early on that Finnick had managed to join an alliance, retrieving a spear from within a crate and fending off anybody who came at him. Your heart was pounding so hard you swore it was about to burst out of your chest. Finnick was fighting off a girl, the one from District Six, you'd realized, and you swallowed thickly as his spear drove into her chest. Her body fell limp to the floor in blood, and you noticed the way he hovered over her, eyes trained on the crimson that spilled from her and pooled at his feet. Finnick was good at hiding his emotions, but you knew him better. You wanted more than anything to assure him, to help him forget his fears and worries, the regret in his gaze was almost haunting. Without a word, he drew the spear out from her corpse and made his way over to his formed alliance.

The arena was surrounded by water, small islands and tall trees. You began to have more hope that perhaps he really could win, even more so when he began to receive sponsor gifts; medicines, food, and a golden trident that was beautifully crafted and detailed. Finnick, though littered with cuts and small injuries, was easily making it through the days in the arena.

On multiple occasions, you’d been terrified that he wasn’t going to make it. Betrayed alliances, wounds beyond what his medicine could heal. You were relieved every time he managed to overcome what the gamemakers threw at him. Even now, as he stood over the corpse of the boy from District Two with his trident, the announcement confirmed what you'd been waiting desperately to hear.

Finnick Odair, winner of the sixty-fifth hunger games.

He was battered and covered in blood, no doubt exhausted and pained from all the injuries he'd gathered, but you couldn't have been happier. He was going to come home. You felt a pang of regret and selfishness. You wondered what Finnick would have said if he knew you were so relieved... ashamed? Disgusted? You weren’t sure.

After days of waiting, Finnick had finished his last interview with Caesar and stepped off the train into District Four. The moment he stepped off, he didn’t even get a chance to glance up before you were almost knocking him over, crushing him into a hug.

He was here. He was real. He was alive!

You swore you'd never been so happy to see anybody more than this. But as you glanced at him, your smile faded. His gaze shifted into an expression that, for once, you didn't know. His eyes were saddened and his face worn with tiredness. His arms didn't wrap around you like yours did, only stayed limp at his sides. He held his chin high, even as your grip slipped from around his neck, and you looked at him quizzically.

"Finn," your voice broke from happiness, confusion and rejection. Your eyes searched his own, looking for any hint of what he could be thinking. You were quiet for a moment, searching for words. "You’re home.”

He inhaled a sharp breath, his gaze flickering over the platform as if unsure where to look first. You supposed it must have been a lot for him to process.

This time, your voice was quieter. “I missed you.”

Finally, he looked at you, and for a moment you swore you saw his eyes soften. "I did too," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. His gaze flicked past you as if he couldn't bear to look at you anymore.

He was already stepping off the platform before you could say anything else. Confusion and hurt struck you like lightning as you watched his figure retreat into the crowd.

Maybe he really did die in that arena.

©x-gabrielle-x. Do not steal, copy or translate my works.

[coryosmin]

nsfw | mdni | best friend coryo x fem!reader | masturbation (m) | this is coryo’s post peacekeeper era

this is very shitty i apologize!!

imagine coryo figuring out he as a sir kink. you and coryo had been studying together and you began fooling around, trying to annoy coryo in any way, shape or form possible. he was always so stoic, had been since he came back from district 12. and you were trying to get him out of that shell he forced himself into.

but as you poked him for the millionth time, you could see coryo’s lip quirked in a small smile. “coryo,” you said, smiling. “coryooo,” you said again.

coriolanus rolled his eyes, pushing you away. “go back to doing your work,” he said.

you huffed, rolling your eyes. “whatever you say, sir,” clearly deflated.

but coryo? he froze. visibly froze. he inhaled sharply, feeling his pants immediately straining from your words. he cleared his throat before responding. “what did you call me?” he said, unable to help the thickness in his voice.

you looked at coryo with an amused look. “i called you sir,” you replied before going back to your work, leaving coryo to his thoughts as he realized a new kink of his.

he liked being called sir. specifically, he liked when you called him sir.

when coryo had gotten home that night, he briefly greeted Ma and Strabo Plinth, grandma’am, and tigris before going to his room and closing the door behind him. all he could think about was you and that word. just one word got him so hard that his cock had strained in his pants for the past few hours.

coryo undid his pants quickly, shoving them down along with his underwear, letting his cock breathe. his poor length was red and angry, clearly begging for attention as it already had precum along the tip. and without any hesitation, coriolanus began stroking his cock hard and fast, leaning against his bedroom door.

he thought about you. you had always been so beautiful and attractive though coryo would never cross that line. or would he? he was really questioning everything in this moment. your thighs always looked so soft. your eyes were just so pretty. and your lips? god he wanted your lips wrapped around his cock.

coriolanus’s movements became faster when he thought about fucking you while you called him sir. “please, sir, it feels so good!” you would whine as coryo’s cock plunged into you.

with a whine, coryo came hard, his cum shooting on to the floor in ropes.

and that’s how coryo realizes that no matter what, he will indeed achieve his life time dream of becoming president. because then even you would be forced to call him sir and that thought alone was enough to get him hard all over again.

[skerban]

Silence of Voices

𖤐 Peeta Mellark x Reader

On the 74th Annual Hunger Games reaping day, District 12 gets another tribute taken in. That person is you, yet are you really ready?

I haven’t seen any peeta fics where the reader is a badass and where the reader doesn’t take the place of katniss so here you go ^_^

[masterlist] | [next]

1.

Reaping day started no differently. Trying to spend your possible last moments before getting your name picked to kill or be killed for the sake of their entertainment.

Walking through the hellhole called district 12 was nothing special. Perhaps you couldn't say anything because you had no one, wow what a way to put that. Yet, having no one means that you had nothing to lose, that is, if you were reaped.

You walked past the silence of people, making your way to your makeshift home. You had only started to properly live in it to avoid talking to anyone. Everyone can go die, you thought, but was it worth it?

Living until your twelve and putting your name into the raffle just to be picked off to die. District 12 has no chance of winning, but maybe you would be picked and get sent off to your misery.

You were always alone, your stoic persona led people away from you. Not that you minded, obviously, you wanted to avoid contact with anyone ever since the passing of your parents. Not bothering to pay attention to the outdoor distractions, you looked through a crappy drawer that contained a limited amount of clothing, yet it still worked its purpose. You took out the light blue dress and scoffed at its color.

Instead, you stripped from your original clothes, and put on the ‘pretty’ dress. The dress went to your knees, with a soft pattern of trills on the bottom of it. You kept your hair down, not bothering to put it up or make a good appearance. You knew you weren’t going to get picked, your name has been put in it for years.

After keeping your worn shoes, the reaping alarm was heard, telling the people of district 12 that it was time for the annual reaping day.

You only let out a small sigh and began to leave your makeshift house, looking at it one more time, before turning away and walking towards the reaping ceremony.

Walking in, the crowd is getting larger and larger, you being one of them. As you were walking, you noticed a girl around your age, 16, consoling a younger girl, most likely her first time. Shaking your head, you pushed past and got into the line. You stuck your hand out for them, pricking your finger and pushing the wound against the paper.

[ (reader) (lastname) ]

The machine read, before you turned and got into the separated groups. You felt bad for whoever was to be chosen, it puts a lot of pressure, you thought.

After everyone was finally registered, you stood in your place, watching as individuals dressed in smooth suits and fancy clothing walked out, taking their seats to enjoy the show. The tall microphone in the middle was empty, before a woman dressed in magenta and elegant clothing. She tapped the microphone before speaking, a smile on her face.

“Welcome, Welcome, Welcome.” Her bright voice rang out for all to hear. Her dark eyes scanned the crowds as she smiled.

“Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds ever be in your favor.” She gave a nod, which made you want to gag.

Having to hear her voice another year was extremely annoying, yet you thanked her for never pulling your name out.

“Now before we begin—“ she started, but you couldn't care less. You ignored the sound of her voice and watched the video appear on the screen with a blank look. The capitol could die, especially the president.

You couldn’t care who died, especially if it was the president. Maybe if he died, the hunger games would stop.

Only hearing the muffled voice of the president and you took your time to look around you, glaring at the peacekeepers that were located near you.

“—As usual, ladies first..” the woman said slowly, taking small steps towards the container that held your name in it and plenty of others. You only bothered to pay attention now, but you stared at her hand as she grabbed a piece of paper with someone's name on it.

She moved back to the microphone and opened the paper, opening her mouth to say the sacrificed lamb.

“Primrose Everdeen.”

You only stood there as you watched the young, blonde, and scared girl walk slowly and away from the people near her, the woman edging her to come onto the stage. You recognized her as the scared girl, how unfortunate that her first day she gets reaped.

You watched silently as the other girl, whom you saw comforting her prior to the reaping, stepped out and called her name.

That caused the peacekeepers to hold her back before the words came out of her mouth.

“I volunteer! I volunteer!” As she pushed the guards away from her and finally with a calm voice saying, “I volunteer as tribute.”

Your eyes widened at her actions, wondering how crazy she was for sacrificing her own life for a kid that would go through this again.

Apparently, this also shocked the woman on the stage as she urged the volunteer to come up instead.

When she finally arrived onto the stage, with a hint of hesitance, she now stood next to the woman.

“What's your name?” The colorful lady asked, looking at the first ever volunteer.

“Katniss Everdeen.” She said quickly.

You now know why she did that. She did it to save her sister. Was it really worth it? Then again, could you really say anything.

You drowned out their voices yet only stood to watch them. You noticed the people around you did that hand sign again. You brought your index, middle, and ring finger to your lips and held it up, along with everyone else. You brought your hand back down as you watched the white haired woman make her way to the boy’s selection container.

She put her hand in, again, and grabbed a paper. She made her way back to the microphone and opened the paper, saying the name loudly.

“Peeta Mellark.”

You turned your head to where everyone else was looking. The boy you saw made you pause. His face, mouth opened as the light in his eyes slowly disappeared hearing his name.

You could only watch with silent eyes as the boys around him moved away, giving him space to walk towards the stage. He made small steps and was finally on the stage.

“Before we.. conclude our tributes.” She paused for a second before smiling.

“There was an anonymous voting, and district 12 was chosen for having an extra tribute.” She smiled sweetly and looked at a peacekeeper and nodded.

Two peacekeepers brought a smaller bowl of names, and it was held in front of her while everyone looked at each other in fear.

“Twenty people were nominated to be the extra tribute, and will be determined right now.” She gave a nod and put her hand in, quickly grabbing one and opening it. The peacekeepers holding the container pulled away and stepped aside.

“(reader) (lastname).” Her voice broke you from your trance. Your eyes widen as you look at the woman in shock. She beckoned you onto the stage and you only stood frozen in your spot, watching as the girls around you only stared at you.

You finally began to move your feet, quickly moving onto the stage and standing next to the boy, Peeta, you think that was his name.

“Now, let’s give an applause for our 3 tributes, from district 12!”

She motioned for them to shake hands, and you only stood to the side, not wanting to interact with the two. They stare awkwardly at each other as the woman gives one last statement.

“Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor.” She smiled as she put her hands on the first two tributes shoulders and pulled them with her, you following behind quietly. The doors closing behind all of you.

[slaymitchabernathy]

The Nanny

Soarynn’s shoes click on the pavement as she walks down the paved walkway.

It’s a daunting task, walking up to the front door of the President’s Mansion.

She wraps her fingers around the handle of her purse a bit tighter to settle her nerves. Today she has the most important job interview of her life.

She carefully climbs the steps leading up to the front door and stops to notice the golden rose engraved on the door handle. She takes in a deep breath, slowly blowing it out.

You’re prepared for this, she tells herself, you’ve already got one foot in the door.

Getting one foot through the front gates was difficult enough. The Peacekeepers guarding the front entrance of the Mansion gave her quite a hard time, asking for all sorts of identification, they even spoke to someone on the intercom before she was granted access.

She hopes it won’t be like this should she land the job.

She knocks only twice before looking over her outfit one last time. She wanted to dress to impress but also dress for practicality. Today she wore a pencil skirt, charcoal gray with a button-up shirt with short sleeves that stop at her shoulders. It is, after all, August and it’s not getting any cooler anytime soon.

She paired the outfit with kitten heels and her purse, hopefully, they approve of her wardrobe.

The door opens after a minute and she’s greeted by an older woman with an impressive-looking head of hair. “Hello, you must be Soarynn, the new nanny.”

Soarynn gives the woman a polite smile and nods, reaching her hand out, “Yes ma’am.”

“I’m Eudora, we spoke over the phone several times,” Eudora tells her, shaking her hand, “do come in out of this heat. It’s been absolutely dreadful.”

Soarynn cautiously steps into the President’s Mansion and can’t help but marvel at how beautiful it is on the inside with the grand marble staircase and the magnificent tall ceilings and windows. It’s beautiful, absolutely beautiful.

“You’ll get used to it,” Eudora calls from over her shoulder, already walking down the hall leaving Soarynn with no choice but to follow her. “Back there was the foyer, there are several sitting rooms, bathrooms, and dining rooms on the first floor. All the guest rooms are also on the first floor, the President and his family all reside on the second floor. Staff also stay on the first floor.”

Soarynn bobs her head as they walk through a maze of hallways that she’ll have to familiarize herself with should they keep her around. “Don’t worry about getting lost,” Eudora says with a chuckle, “the children know their way around this house better than their father.”

A wave of nerves washes over Soarynn at the mention of her possible employer, the President of Panem.

They pass by a large portrait and Soarynn can’t help but stop and look at it. The portrait is of the Snow family, Coriolanus Snow, and his wife Livia sitting on a sofa with their children playing on the floor below them. Eudora sighs and gazes up alongside Soarynn, “The children still miss their mother, but they’ve gotten past the hardest stages of grief. Now it’s up to the adults around them to help them grow and move on.”

Soarynn swallows, can she handle that responsibility?

“It’s an insurmountable loss,” Soarynn decides, “losing a parent is the worst thing that can happen to a child.”

She can feel Eudora looking at her but she doesn’t look away from the stern face of Coriolanus Snow, handsome but stoic. No emotion whatsoever.

“Yes,” Eudora agrees, “although I wouldn’t expect Coriolanus to talk about it at length. He doesn’t talk about anything that doesn’t have to do with running this country.”

Soarynn can only imagine why.

“Anyways, we went over your files, performed several tedious background checks and it seems that you’ve passed all of them, my dear. Congratulations.”

Soarynn’s eyes widen at Eudora’s comment, “You mean I got the job?”

Eudora laughs as if she just said the funniest joke ever, “Oh no dear. Coriolanus will be the one to officially decide, but he usually leaves these things in my capable hands. He can’t be bothered with finding another nanny.”

Another nanny.

Based on what she gathered from several phone calls with Eudora, Soarynn is not the first nanny who’s been employed by the Snow family. But she hopes she’ll be the last.

“He trusts you with a lot then?” She asks, following Eudora down another hallway. Eudora nods, “Yes. Goodness knows where he’d be without me telling him where to be and when to be there. I’m technically his event coordinator, but lately, I’ve been doing more than my job description. Which is why we’ve been looking for a new nanny to help with the children.”

They round a corner and walk into a larger hallway with windows that go from the floor to the ceiling, Soarynn glances outside to see the extensive grounds that surround the Presidential Mansion. From what she’s heard, President Snow is meticulous about the upkeep of his gardens, and he has an entire greenhouse full of roses.

“The children, are they…are they as outgoing as they appear on television?” She implores, only knowing President Snow’s three children from the brief snippets she’s seen of them on television, mostly from Lucky Flickerman’s television show.

Eudora chuckles, “They’ve certainly never met a stranger, but then again they were born into this spotlight, so I suppose it’s only natural that they embrace the attention. But after the death of their mother, they’re more tucked away, Coriolanus doesn’t let them do nearly as much as they did before Livia passed.”

Soarynn swallows down every piece of information she can get about her possible employer and his children. Should she get this job, keeping his children happy will be the most important thing in her entire life.

They come to a halt in front of two large wooden doors and Eudora sighs, giving Soarynn a somewhat sympathetic smile, “This is his study. He’ll speak with you, assess you, and decide if you’re worthy of being trusted with the privilege of watching over his children.”

Well, that’s not making her feel any better.

Soarynn must not be doing a good job at hiding her nerves because Eudora gives her arm a gentle squeeze, “Don’t fret dear, you’re not the first nanny and you most likely won’t be the last either. Nothing is personal, strictly business. Should you get the job then I’ll help you get settled and learn the ropes.”

Should. There’s a lot riding on that particular word.

Soarynn takes a deep breath, “Alright, I suppose I shouldn’t delay any longer.”

She watches Eudora slip into the study and waits with bated breath for what feels like hours before Eudora comes back out and nods for her to enter, “President Snow will see you now.”

Soarynn quietly steps into his study, closing the doors behind her before planting herself in front of them.

He’s sitting behind a large desk, probably the biggest desk she’s ever seen.

A wall of windows is behind him, and to the left and right the walls are made of bookcases. There’s also a fireplace built into the left wall with a small sitting area surrounding it composed of armchairs and sofas. Soarynn notices the small bar cart of brown and amber liquids as well, he must have a drink or two while running the country.

She stands as still as a statue for at least a minute before he finally looks up from his work and beckons her forward with the wave of his hand, “Come in Ms. Nightingale.”

Soarynn does her best to remain calm, composed, and above all, like a stellar Capitol citizen.

She slowly sinks into one of the armchairs that sits across from his desk, crossing her ankles over one another and clasping her hands in her lap. A proper lady if she’s ever seen one before.

President Snow doesn’t seem to be in a rush to conduct this meeting, in fact, he doesn’t seem to care at all as he continues writing on several documents that lay before him.

Soarynn takes this as an opportunity to truly study the President of Panem up close and personal. He’s as handsome as he appears on television, at twenty-five he’s got a chiseled jaw and a gorgeous smile from what she’s seen. His hair is lighter in person though, and his hair seems to be more curly as well. Perhaps he slicks his curls back with gel when making public appearances.

He’s deeply focused, his blue eyes scanning the papers while he scribbles the occasional note on them.

Soarynn looks at the right corner of his desk where a single photograph sits. It’s at an angle to where she can see that the photograph is of his three children. Not his wife.

She tears her eyes away from the framed photograph and finds him looking right at her, his piercing blue eyes analyzing her. Soarynn sits up a bit straighter, still unsure of how to go about this interview.

President Snow sits back in his chair, at ease in his home, "You're younger than the others."

Soarynn blinks once, twice, "Pardon?"

He sighs, "The other nannies that I've hired, you're younger than all of them."

All she can do is nod.

"Your resume impressed me Ms. Nightingale, and you managed to pass all the background checks with flying colors as well. So tell me, why do you think you'd be a suitable nanny for my children?"

Soarynn can feel her hands shaking, but she's prepared herself for a question like this. "I'm very good with children," she tells him, "I'm dependable and organized, and I see this job as a great honor."

President Snow scoffs a laugh and tilts his head back, "Yes, a great honor," he mumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose, "running after my children at all hours of the day is a great service to the country of Panem."

Soarynn finds herself feeling a bit small now, she didn't know what to expect from President Snow but he's just full of surprises it seems.

He sits back up, resting his forearms on his desk, "I won't pretend that you're the first nanny that's walked through my door, and to be quite honest with you, you probably won't be the last nanny either. My children need a source of stability, do you understand? The death of their mother shook our family, and I've been left to pick up the pieces it seems."

Soarynn nods, she remembers clear as day when the death of Livia Snow was announced. It shook the entire nation, and the Presidential family more than anyone.

"I understand sir."

"Good, good. My oldest, Ceraphina, she remembers the most about her mother but, even she's starting to forget Livia more and more. I'd appreciate it if you didn't refresh her memory on it any further. I want to move forward, not backward."

"Yes sir."

President Snow scans her body for a moment, nodding to himself, "You seem like a good fit for our family Ms. Nightingale, but let me make one thing perfectly clear, my children are to be your first and top priority. Nothing else matters but them. They're all I have now that Livia is gone. I can't have any more children. They're my future. My legacy. Should it come down to it, your life will come before theirs."

It's a rather large and daunting pill to swallow. Soarynn knew the risks of this job going into it, that should the children's lives be put at risk, she would be expected to give up her own. But it leads her to wonder, who on earth would want to hurt children?

"Of course sir."

That seems to be all he needs to hear because President Snow picks his pen back up and opens up one of the drawers in his desk, pulling out a file and tossing it onto the desk. "It says here in your file that you're Glen Nightingale's daughter. Allow me to offer you my condolences on his passing."

Soarynn didn't expect her father to be brought into this but perhaps this is a way of testing her emotional stability. Can she work under pressure?

"Thank you," she says quietly, looking down at her lap.

"How did he pass?"

"Heart failure," she answers, "we...we didn't see it coming. But he left me with everything I could possibly need."

President Snow grunts in approval, "A good man then. I do believe that our fathers were good friends back in the day, I used to go to dinners with them when I was just a boy."

It's hard to picture President Snow dining with her own father but she doesn't find it impossible. Stranger things have happened.

"Yes, he was very well connected," Soarynn agrees, shifting in her seat.

President Snow flips open her file, scanning the pages and Soarynn can see a standard photograph of her on one of the pages. "You can see my information?" She asks, her curiosity getting the best of her.

President Snow looks a bit surprised at her question but he nods, "Yes, I'm granted access to all information concerning citizens of Panem. This is mostly to ensure that you're of sound mind and body, and to make sure I know exactly where your loyalties lie."

Her loyalties.

"I can assure you that my loyalties lie within the safety of the Capitol sir," she says, "I attended the Academy, same as my father."

He looks her up and down, leaning a bit closer towards her, "I'm well aware of your loyalties. But let me make one thing perfectly clear Ms. Nightingale, your getting this job has nothing to do with your family name. It has nothing to do with your father being friends with my father. All I care about is your skillset and devotion to the well-being of my children. Am I clear?"

Soarynn swallows, "Crystal."

He sits back up, closing her file, "Good. You'll start today, meet the children, learn the house and the routines. Eudora will help you with the rest. Should you fail to meet my standards, you'll be fired immediately."

"Thank you, sir."

He waves her off and Soarynn all but runs out of her seat, desperate to get out of President Snow's scrutinizing gaze. She goes to pull open the doors when his deep voice stops her in her tracks.

"And Ms. Nightingale?"

Soarynn looks at him from over her shoulder, "Yes sir?"

"You are not their mother. Don't try to be something you're not, do you understand? My children don't need another mother, they need a nanny."

Soarynn bites her lip before answering, "Yes sir."

꧁ ꧂

Eudora Trinket can talk a lot.

She rambles on and on about all the procedures and routines Soarynn should be aware of while they walk through the Mansion. Soarynn can't help but marvel at how big it is, and how many people they pass through the halls. According to Eudora, all the staff are Avoxes, aside from the Peacekeepers.

"Now Coriolanus almost always goes out to dinner at night, so the children are asleep when he comes home."

Soarynn nods along to Eudora's words as they begin to climb up the grand staircase, "There's a back staircase as well for staff that you can use, the children use it often. Now, under no circumstances should Coriolanus be disturbed at any time, not even the children should bother him during the day. That's how the last nanny got fired."

Soarynn shivers at those foreboding words. This job is not promised. Any day could be her last.

Once they reach the second floor, it becomes much more quiet. "The family's rooms are all on this hall," Eudora leads them down a particular hallway, "Coriolanus sleeps here, and the children's rooms are all down here along with their playroom. You're allowed to come up and down as you please, just don't disturb Coriolanus if he's in his room."

They stop in front of another door and Soarynn can hear laughter from the inside. "You know their names correct?"

"Yes. Ceraphina, Celeste, and Caspian."

"Good. I'll let you get acquainted with them. Coriolanus wants you to start immediately, so your day will be done when he gets home from dinner tonight." Soarynn hadn't thought about how long she'd be here but she supposes that there are worse places to work at.

"Alright. Should I need any help, I suppose I should come and ask you?"

Eudora hums, "Yes dear. I have a complimentary bedroom downstairs for when I'm required to spend the night, but I do most of my work in the red sitting room, the children will know where that is."

Soarynn glances down at the golden door handle and notices another rose engraved into it. He must really like roses.

Eudora quietly opens the door and Soarynn peers into the playroom to find it quite colorful and bright. The entire back wall is made up of windows with a long bench pressed against it to serve as a window seat it seems. There are books, toys, stuffed animals, and dresses scattered across the floor.

Three blonde children run around the room shrieking as they chase each other. Or well, the girls are chasing one another, and their brother is sitting on the floor watching them.

"Children," Eudora says sternly, causing them to stop in their tracks, "I'd like to introduce you to your new nanny. This is Soarynn."

Here goes nothing, Soarynn thinks to herself before stepping into the room. All three Snow children gaze up at her with wide blue eyes, "You have blonde hair like us," Ceraphina, the oldest, says, scanning Soarynn up and down, "the other nanny had black hair." Soarynn offers her a smile, "Well people come in all different shapes and colors."

Eudora crouches down and beckons the girls closer to her, "I expect you to show her how things are done, and I expect you girls to be on your best behavior alright? Make your father proud." Both girls give Eudora a determined look and they nod, looking back up at Soarynn, "You can come play with us," Celeste says, "we're playing tea party."

Soarynn raises her eyebrows, "Well that sounds delightful."

She carefully steps over several toys and follows the girls to a small table tucked in the corner, where most seats are occupied by dolls. "Do your dolls have names?" She implores, remembering how obsessed she was with dolls when she was younger. Celeste nods and picks one of the dolls up, "Yes! This one is Sofie, she's a princess."

Ceraphina grabs the teapot and opens the lid, "And our Daddy is the President of Panem." Soarynn nods along, "Yes he is, his job is very important." Ceraphina tilts her head and takes another step towards Soarynn, not stopping until they're toe to toe, "Are you gonna leave like the other nanny?"

Soarynn wishes she could give Ceraphina assurances, but her father made it very clear that tomorrow was not promised. Soarynn crouches down until she's at eye level with Ceraphina and tucks a stray curl behind her ear, "I'm going to be here as long as I possibly can, okay?" It seems that Ceraphina wanted to hear something along those lines because she breaks into a big smile, "Perfect! Our Mommy died so we don't have a Mommy anymore, right Celeste?"

Celeste who's making her doll drink imaginary tea perks up and nods, "Yep, Mommy died because she was sick. Daddy says so."

Soarynn cards her fingers through her hair and sighs, "Yes, I heard about that, I'm so very sorry for your loss." Ceraphina shrugs and reaches out to touch Soarynn's shirt, "It's okay, I get to go to school next year, Daddy says so."

"Momma." Soarynn looks over to the left where Caspian, the youngest of the Snow children has slowly pushed himself up and is carefully walking over to them, "Cas, Mommy isn't here anymore, remember? Now Soarynn takes care of us," Ceraphina explains, taking his small hand in her small one.

Caspian pouts and looks down at his small shoes, "Soar."

Soarynn smiles and reaches out to run a hand over his blonde curls, "That's right Caspian, I'm here to take care of you all. Now why don't we have some tea?"

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn never knew that children could have so much energy until now.

She's steps behind the girls who are running ahead of her, leading her to what's supposedly the ballroom. "Come on!" Ceraphina calls, waving her over, "It's this way!" Soarynn tightens her hold on Caspian's small hand as they slowly walk down the hallway, making sure not to walk too fast for his pace, "We're coming."

The Snow children are from what she's gathered, more aware than they're given credit for. Both girls are extremely smart and outgoing, always wanting to take the lead whereas Caspian is quiet as a mouse. Ceraphina says he wasn't always this way, that he talked more before Livia died. Now he simply latches onto the nearest stuffed animal which in today's case, is Lenny the lion.

"Lenny," Caspian says, holding up his stuffed animal for Soarynn to see again. She nods and squeezes Caspian's hand, "I can see that. Are you sure that you want to bring Lenny outside?"

Soarynn had suggested going to play outside after being cooped up in the playroom for a good two hours, figuring a little fresh air couldn't hurt. Both girls are waiting for them when they finally reach the ballroom and it's bigger than Soarynn could've imagined. "Oh my," she whispers, "nothing is small in this house is it?"

Ceraphina skips over to her, her curls bouncing, "C'mon Soarynn! C'mon Caspian, let's go outside!"

Caspian it seems is still debating whether or not to bring his beloved stuffed lion but he comes to a conclusion and gives Soarynn a nod, “Outside Lenny.”

Well, if that’s what he wants.

All four of them make their way across the shiny ballroom floor, it’s so perfectly polished that Soarynn can see her reflection in it. “Do you come into this room often?” She asks, glancing up at the ornate ceiling. Celeste twirls in front of her, holding out her arms for balance, “Nope! Ever since Mommy died we stopped having parties.”

Oh, well, best not to bring up the ballroom again.

Soarynn can’t help but feel as if she’s digging up old memories of the children’s mother. Perhaps she should stick to more surface-level topics like coloring and playing dress-up.

She lets out a deep sigh when they finally push open the large doors that lead to the terrace. The sun is shining and the birds are chirping, gladly welcoming the Snow children and their new nanny to a beautiful summer day.

The girls run ahead once again, twirling by the steps that lead down to the grounds. “Look at the clouds!” Celeste calls out, pointing at the white fluffy clouds. Soarynn looks down to find Caspian staring up at the sky with fascination, “Cloud,” he says, reaching his small hand up.

Soarynn nods, “That’s right, there are quite a few clouds today.”

“Let’s go play in the gardens!”

Soarynn nods to Ceraphina’s words and leads her and Caspian over to the steps, coming to a halt when she realizes just how many steps they’ll have to take. Caspian seems to be able to walk by himself for the most part, but she’d rather not test it.

“Do you mind if I pick you up?” She asks, feeling a bit silly asking a two-year-old for permission but he’s not just any two-year-old, no, he’s the President of Panem’s only son. He’ll be treated as such.

Caspian seems to give it some thought before he nods, “Up,” he agrees, allowing Soarynn to swoop him up and hold him on her hip. He barely weighs anything to her and this will be much easier for conquering the stairs.

It's adorable how quickly he clings to her, resting his head on her chest while one of his hands holds her shirt. From what she's seen he's a very sweet little boy, quiet but sweet. Anyone must be quiet in comparison to his sisters though who are very outspoken.

Once they reach the ground she goes to put him down but Caspian clings to her even tighter, "No!" Soarynn's eyes widen in surprise, but she won't be the one to deny him. "Alright," she says, "don't need to tell me twice."

They follow the girls around while they play, chasing butterflies and giggling, happy as can be. Caspian watches in fascination but makes no indications of wanting to be put back down. He's as comfy as can be. A butterfly lands on top of his stuffed lion after a while of the girls chasing it, dangling precariously on Lenny the lion.

Soarynn gasps, smiling at how confused Caspian seems at the butterfly, "It's a butterfly Caspian," she tells him, "looks like he likes Lenny." Ceraphina and Celeste eye the butterfly with mischievous smiles, "Can we hold Lenny Caspian?" Ceraphina asks, rocking back and forth on her heels.

Soarynn can see where this is going and it'll end in tears.

"I don't think so," she answers for Caspian who clutches onto Lenny for dear life, Ceraphina frowns but Soarynn doesn't want a dead butterfly on her hands. Their father wouldn't be very pleased with that.

Both girls settle for simply watching the butterfly and Soarynn can't help but feel as if they're being watched. Which she's sure they are, but by security. Where the Snow children go, Peacekeepers are sure to follow to ensure their safety at all times.

She looks up at the Mansion, her eyes zeroing in on a figure standing by one of the windows. President Snow.

She feels caught even though she's doing nothing wrong. Being under his scrutinizing gaze is more than enough to make someone feel guilty.

Soarynn turns so Caspian can see his father, "Look Caspian," she points, "there's your father." All three children look up and the girls gasp, waving up at the most intimidating man in the world, "Hi Daddy!" Caspian simply stares up at the window, his bright blue eyes watching his father.

President Snow doesn't wave back and a moment later he's turning away from the window, his attention seemingly called elsewhere. "Does your father ever come outside with you?" Soarynn asks Ceraphina who seems to have all the answers to her questions.

Ceraphina shakes her head, "Nope. Mommy didn't like us playing outside because she'd get her shoes dirty."

The more she hears about Livia Snow, the more she wonders about her. "I see. Why don't we go play over here?" Soarynn suggests, wanting to get their mind off of their mother as much as she can.

It is, after all, her job to make them happy.

꧁ ꧂

"Coriolanus is going to be at dinner tonight, so you'll stay with the children until he gets back home," Eudora tells her. Soarynn can only nod along to her words, "Alright. I suppose the children will be having dinner early then?"

They're seated in one of the many sitting rooms the President's Mansion has. This one is entirely red, from the furniture to the wall color. Soarynn can't help but study Eudora Trinket now that they're up close and personal. She's very beautiful, with long eyelashes and perfect skin. She must know all the ins and outs after working with the Snow family for so long.

"Yes, the most important part of their nighttime routines is simply making sure that they're all asleep before Coriolanus gets home. He doesn't like coming home to a house full of wild children, not that the children could ever be wild," she mumbles. "Anyways, Caspian is the hardest to get down, he's been quite fussy since his mother passed away, nothing seems to calm him down these days so any tricks are appreciated. Coriolanus doesn't want to turn to medication to get him to sleep."

Soarynn frowns at the suggestion of giving that sweet little boy medicine to make him fall asleep. She'll make sure he's dreaming of happy things before his father gets home tonight.

"I'll see to it that all the children are sound asleep when President Snow arrives," Soarynn assures her, glancing out into the hallway where all three children are playing on the floor with their toys. Eudora had found them all outside and called them in so she could go over a few more things with Soarynn.

She gave them all lemonade and cherry tarts, a delicious snack in Soarynn's opinion.

"How have they been so far? I know the girls can tend to get a little too excited whenever there's a new nanny in the house," Eudora says softly, giving Soarynn a somewhat sympathetic look. Soarynn shrugs and offers her a tight-lipped smile, "They've been wonderful. And a great help in showing me where everything is. It'll take a few days for me to get my bearings."

Soarynn knew the Presidential Mansion was big, but she never imagined it would be this big. It's like a maze with all these corridors and hallways, small rooms and large rooms.

Eudora chuckles, taking a sip of her lemonade, "Yes, the Mansion can be quite confusing. I think Coriolanus prefers it that way." Soarynn raises her eyebrows, surprised at what the President seems to prefer and not prefer, "You must be close to him then if you can call him by his first name?"

Eudora hums, tracing the rim of her glass with her finger, "Not necessarily close, but he knows I'm not going anywhere. After Livia passed it was so strange, he was so...dependent on me, and Coriolanus is very independent, very closed off as you've seen. But it was as if he needed me to tell him what to do every five minutes. I think he was in shock if I'm being honest. Nothing prepares you to become a single parent you know."

Soarynn nods, while she doesn't have any children of her own, she certainly knows what it feels like to lose a parent, a loved one.

"I see him as a nephew," Eudora continues, "sometimes a rather annoying one but I do care for him and his children deeply. They're a good family, and he tries to be a good father. It's not easy running a country and looking after three children, so the search for a reliable nanny has been rather difficult these past few months."

"Soarynn? Can we go play something else?"

Both women snap back into focus at Celeste's question and Soarynn is quick to put on a smile and wipe her hands off on her skirt, "Of course we can sweetheart, let's go back to the playroom."

Celeste smiles up at her, reaching for Soarynn's hand and she gladly takes it, "Okay! Daddy bought us new dresses to play dress-up in, maybe you can fit into one!"

Soarynn hums, slowly standing up from the sofa and giving Eudora a nod, "We'll see you at dinner?"

"You will dear," Eudora confirms.

"Let's go, let's go!" Celeste chants, dragging Soarynn towards her siblings, "I'm coming, I'm coming," Soarynn mumbles, watching the other two Snow children light up when they see her walking towards them.

"You're gonna play dress-up with us?" Ceraphina asks, her blue-gray eyes twinkling with excitement. Soarynn gives her a confirming nod, bending down to pick up Caspian who's already reaching out for her, "I sure am."

"Are you gonna play other games with us too?"

Soarynn adjusts Caspian on her hip, not wanting him to slip while they go up the stairs, "I'll play whatever games you want me to play."

And she means it too. Whatever makes them happy.

꧁ ꧂

"Come on girls, it's time for bed."

Neither of the girls put up a fight which Soarynn is grateful for. It's been a long day.

"Will you read us a story?"

"I sure will."

All three children have their own rooms but Soarynn learned at dinner that Ceraphina and Celeste prefer to sleep in the same room together. She didn't need Eudora to tell her why, she already knew why. Because their mother died so now everything was different than it was before.

She finds it rather sweet though, how no matter how much these girls have, they always choose to stick together. And all three children could easily sleep in one room considering the sheer size of their bedrooms. Ceraphina's is all pink, with a large canopy bed filled to the brim with stuffed animals. Soarynn doesn't know how they manage to get any sleep but the girls claim that the animals help keep them safe.

They both run to the bed, dressed in the softest pajamas with their hair braided down their backs. Soarynn had been a bit nervous about bath time since she found that children either loved it or hated it, but the girls didn't put up any fuss, only wanting her to style their hair once they were done.

"Come look at all our stuffed animals," Ceraphina calls out, crawling over her sheets to gather as many animals as she possibly can. Soarynn spots several bunny rabbits and horses. "My goodness, you two certainly have quite the collection," Soarynn says, sitting on the edge of the bed. Celeste giggles and flops onto the pile of pillows, "Yep! Daddy always buys us stuffed animals when he goes away on trips."

Soarynn pales at the thought of President Snow going away on business. She hadn't seen him once today besides that moment in the window, but just knowing that he was here in case anything went wrong made her feel much better. To have him in the Districts worries her.

"How thoughtful of him," she murmurs, pinching the bedsheets between her fingers, "what story do you want to hear tonight?"

Both girls scrunch their noses while they think, a cute habit they must've picked up from one of their parents. Ceraphina being the oldest is the first to have an answer, "The one about the bunny rabbits in the meadow." Celeste perks up at that suggestion and quickly nods, a few of her shorter curls springing loose, "Yes! Eudora doesn't do the voices like Daddy does."

Soarynn frowns, "The voices?"

"Mhm. Whenever Daddy reads to us he does funny voices for the characters."

Oh, how...sweet. Soarynn didn't even think that President Snow ever put his girls to sleep but apparently, there have been enough times for them to grow used to his silly voices. And what a silly thought to picture the President of Panem changing his voice to mimic bunny rabbits.

A parent's love knows no bounds.

"Alright, I'll do the voices, although I won't be as good as your father," Soarynn warns them, earning her some giggles. "It's okay," Celeste tells her, "the other nanny never read us bedtime stories."

What monster did they hire before her?

Soarynn pushes those thoughts away and goes to search for their requested book, mentally preparing to come up with some bunny rabbit voices.

How hard can it be?

꧁ ꧂

"I know," Soarynn whispers, bouncing a wailing Caspian up and down, "but you're so tired sweet boy, you need to go to bed."

Caspian tries to wiggle out of her hold but Soarynn will be damned if she drops the President's son because he doesn't want to go to bed. "No! Momma want Momma!" He cries out for the hundredth time.

Soarynn sighs, she hadn't anticipated Caspian putting up such a fuss about bedtime. The girls went down easy after she read them a bedtime story. It nearly broke her heart when they both made sure to confirm that she'd be coming back tomorrow.

She can't imagine how many times those sweet girls have watched another woman walk out of their lives, almost the same way their mother did.

But she promised them that she'd come back tomorrow.

Unless their father decides to fire her tonight.

"Do you want Lenny?" Soarynn asks, grabbing the stuffed lion off from his dresser, "No Lenny," Caspian says, more tears falling down his chubby little cheeks. Soarynn gently wipes away his tears, glancing at the clock again. It's almost eight o'clock, far past his bedtime but Caspian is not going down without a fight it seems.

Soarynn looks out the large windows of his nursery, wondering what it would be like for this to be your view every day, the Mansion grounds with the Capitol right behind your backyard. The children don't even blink at the idea of their father being the President.

A wild idea crosses her mind but it's better than the other things she's tried. "Why don't I sing you a song hmm? Would you like a lullaby?"

Caspian hiccups, his cries faltering at her suggestion. He probably understands more than he lets onto but Soarynn can't really blame him. He's the baby of the family.

Soarynn walks over to the rocking chair, groaning when she finally sits down and gets off her feet, "Much better," she decides, smoothing down his curls, "See? It's alright Caspian, you're alright."

She digs through the rolodex of songs in her mind, she always loved to sing, even sang in the choir at the Academy for a couple years. But once her father passed away, she hasn't felt like singing a whole lot.

But tonight calls for all the stops.

Soarynn cradles his head agasint her chest, rocking them back and forth when she begins to sing.

"Deep in the meadow, under the willow, A bed of grass, a soft green pillow. Lay down your head, and close your eyes, and when they open, the sun will rise. Here it's safe, here it's warm, here the daisies guard you from every harm. Here your dreams are sweet, and tomorrow brings them true. Here is the place where I love you."

Soarynn swallows after signing the last line, remembering her father kissing her forehead whenever he'd sing it.

She presses a soft kiss to Caspian's forehead, smiling at how precious he looks when he's asleep.

She rocks them for a little longer, humming the song to keep him asleep before she finally stands up and walks him over to his crib. Eudora says he'll get a bed once he turns three, but until then he's got his crib, beautifully carved mahogany at that.

"Sweet dreams sweet boy," she whispers, carefully placing him down in his crib, making sure he has Lenny the lion within his grasp just in case he needs a friend.

Soarynn watches him sleep for a moment, wanting to make sure he doesn't wake up needing anything.

She can't help but feel an internal need to protect these children, to care for them and make sure they know how loved they are, even if it's not really her place to do so.

She finally leaves, quietly closing the doors behind her and letting out a breath of relief once she's finally alone.

Today felt like five years compressed into one.

And it's only her first day.

Still, she enjoyed getting to know the children. All that's left for her to do is wait for their father to return home. So she settles in the playroom, curling up on one of the larger sofas they have with the book she brought along with her in case she had some free time. After today, she knows she won't.

Soarynn listens out for anyone calling her name, the sound of any children padding down the empty hallways but she hears nothing.

Nothing until heavy footsteps announce themselves at the playroom doors. Soarynn looks up wide-eyed at President Snow who's lingering in the doorway, watching her.

"I...you're back," she finally manages to get out, her voice merely a whisper.

He nods, stepping into the playroom, "I am, and none of my children were there to greet me at the door so I suppose you succeeded in getting them all to sleep."

Soarynn swallows, praying that one of the children doesn't decide to make a grand entrance right now, "I did," she replies.

President Snow looks around the playroom, his eyes scanning over all the toys and miniature pieces of furniture he probably had custom-made for his children, "Haven't been in here for a while."

Soarynn closes her book, she wasn't prepared for small talk. "The children seem to enjoy playing in here together."

He slowly nods, his eyes traveling up and down her body. She took of her shoes but now she's wishing she kept the heels on, she must look so unprofessional.

"Dinner was good then?" She asks, immediately wishing she had just kept her mouth shut. She's the nanny, not the assistant.

President Snow raises his eyebrows at her question while she waits for him to fire her on the spot, but he surprises her. "It was good," he agrees, "long but good."

They both sit in their silence for a few beats, neither of them knowing what to say until he cards his fingers through his curls, "Why don't we check on the children so you can go home?"

Soarynn shoots up from the sofa, grabbing her things and slipping on her heels, "Excellent idea."

He steps to the side so she can walk out and Soarynn feels the hairs on the back of her neck stand up when she feels his warm breath on her for a second. But then it's gone and they're both walking side by side towards the children's rooms.

"They were well-behaved today?"

"Yes sir."

"Good," he grunts, clasping his hands behind his back, "I've never known them not to be," he adds.

Soarynn believes him, the Snow children are very sweet.

They stop at Ceraphina's doors and Soarynn carefully cracks them open, peering in to see both girls under the covers, sound asleep with stuffed animals in their hands. She can feel President Snow right behind her, his presence is overwhelming. She looks up to find that he has a genuine look on his normally stern face, a small smile splayed across his lips.

"They can't stand to be apart," he whispers, backing up so that she can close the doors, "they might as well be twins."

Soarynn chuckles, "They certainly act like twins."

She's never seen sisters be so close before, so in tune with one another.

President Snow hums, "Yes, well it's good they're both asleep. They've had a busy day."

How do you even know that? She wants to ask him but Soarynn chides herself while they walk down to Caspian's nursery, she's sure he has all sorts of people telling him about every little thing his children do when he's not with them.

She holds her breath when he opens the doors to Caspian's nursery, praying that they aren't welcomed by wailing but all she hears is silence. She peers in to see him still asleep, Lenny hugged to his chest now.

Soarynn does her best not to look entirely relieved.

President Snow watches his son for a moment, long enough for Soarynn to look back in, just to make sure something isn't amiss but it all looks good to her.

"No one's ever been able to get him to sleep," he says softly, disbelief reflecting in his piercing blue eyes, "no one except me and Livia."

Soarynn wonders if that's supposed to be a compliment, supposed to make her feel proud. She thinks back to Caspian crying for his mother, desperately seeking her out even though she no longer exists.

"I just sang him a lullaby," she explains, brushing her hair behind her ears. President Snow closes the doors gently before looking down at her, so imposing and authoritative, "It must have been some lullaby. He's never slept like this since Livia passed," he says, shaking his head, "every nanny would greet me with a wailing son and tired eyes."

Soarynn is most definitely tired but she's missing a crying Caspian and she's proud of that. He wasn't too fussy once she started singing. "Well I'm glad that you were able to be greeted by a quiet house," is what she finally says, not wanting to say the wrong thing and come off as cocky or arrogant.

He nods, rubbing the back of his neck, "Me as well. I suppose that's all for today then, my driver will take you home."

Soarynn wants to jump for joy, she survived the first day! But she refrains from doing so and simply nods, "That's very kind of you. Thank you, sir."

President Snow hums, already padding down the hall to his own room. "Goodnight Ms. Nightingale," he calls, not even looking back at her.

Soarynn watches him go, he must be terribly lonely in this big Mansion, with no one to truly talk to unless he's paying them to listen. She's no different then, just another employee.

"Goodnight sir," she whispers, turning on her heel to walk in the opposite direction.

She quietly makes her way downstairs, towards the side entrance Eudora had shown her after dinner. The front entrance was for big spectacles, important visitors who had to be seen entering the President's Mansion to send a message to those watching. On a daily basis, those who worked and lived inside the Mansion used the side entrance since it was more secluded and just easier to access.

Soarynn is met by the President's driver and the cool evening air, "Good evening Ms. Nightingale," the driver greets her with a curt bow at the waist, "you reside on Cornelia Street, is that correct?"

Soarynn doesn't even want to know how he knows where she lives. "Yes," is all she says before slipping into the car. It's quite possibly the most luxurious vehicle she's ever been inside of with custom-wrapped leather seats, a small mini bar, and so much leg room. Ten people could easily fit inside of this car.

She leans against the window once the car begins to move, watching as a side gate opens up for the car, guarded by two Peacekeepers armed with guns. She'll have to get used to their presence.

She nearly drifts off to sleep but snaps herself awake when she sees the familiar townhouses that neighbor her own. Her fingers trail along the fine leather interior, stopping at the door handle where there's another rose engraved into the metal.

He must love roses.

The car comes to a quiet stop and the driver opens the door for her a moment later, promising to be back in the morning to pick her up. Soarynn didn't think she'd be given privileges such as this but she's not complaining. This is much better than walking.

Soarynn yawns once she's within the safety of her own home, so very ready to get some sleep. She still can't believe she got the job, that she works for the President of Panem now. She ought to do everything in her power to keep this job for the sake of the children.

She just hopes it doesn't come at the cost of her own sanity.

| Part 1. |

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

{ Part 2. }

[wonderlandwalker]

Intertwined Demise | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: It only takes a single second for his world to fall apart in your hold

Content Warnings/Tags: Blood, injury, angst, a lot of insinuations but nothing explicit

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: For some reason I can't seem to be able to write anything longer than this. But here is a little snippet of angst until I find the headspace to write properly again

Your face was covered in dirt and dust, only clean where the tears had forced their path. And if it hadn't been for that simple fact, you wouldn't even be able to tell you were crying. Your face was strong, stoic even. All emotions lacking at a time when you would expect them most.

He kept waiting for your fight or to flight, but the longer he waited, the more hopeless the situation became, the more he wished he could get through to you. Because you were standing there, frozen.

And it's strange, the things you remember when you're watching the light fade from someone's eyes. Like the time you tried to show him how to make madeleines, but how could you expect him to focus on the melting butter when you were so, so close. And really, he thought, how was he supposed to not kiss you. 

He starts yelling at you until his ears start ringing, but it's no use, you haven't moved a single muscle.  You just stand there, looking at him as if everything will be okay. As if you’ve found your world in his eyes and are prepared to leave with it. 

He wants to run to you, wants to rip you away from your own thoughts. He wants to tell you about the promise you made to teach him chess. He didn't care much for the game itself, but the time you spent playing it was time he had to spend without you, and so he was determined to learn. But it’s no use, you’re standing there like a pawn in someone else's game, and he hasn't learned how to save you yet.

And the rest of your friends, the rest of the squad is pulling at him, trying to get him to move. Telling him to come with them, that they have to go. But how could he call them friends any longer if they did not see that by asking him to leave you, they are asking him to leave a piece of himself here.

Against all their pleas, and against all their orders, he stays right there. He stays and looks at you, he looks at you as if all of a sudden, you’ll be in his arms again. You’ll be in his embrace and you’ll tell him about the colours you think you should paint the house, and he’ll always agree with you no matter which one you think is best.

But it wouldn't matter, because no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get to you through the glass wall separating you. The material is in front of him as if it's mocking him. He can see you, he can see his heart being ripped from his chest, but he cant reach to get it back.

You had fallen behind, you had noticed something the others didn't and spent an extra second looking at it, but when you figured out what it was, your fate had already been written. 

When he had heard the noise, when his ears had alerted him something was wrong before his eyes could even get the chance, he had reached for you. He had reached for you to push you ahead of him, shielding you from whatever it was he had heard. He had turned around, and he had seen the last bit of space between you close up. And this shield wasn't one he would be able to get through. He wasn't the only one trying to get to you, he heard bullets being fired into the wall, but it didn't make a difference, it was too strong. 

From behind you, he could see peacekeepers turning the corner, and he starts pounding on the glass even harder, he hits it until the blood from his knuckles turns the glass into a tortured canvas. He screams out for you, but it doesn't seem like you can hear him. He sees your lips moving, and he can recognise you telling him you love him. But it doesn't calm him down like it usually would, it only makes him fight harder. Your body language is a stark contrast to your face, and he can see how afraid you really are, how guarded you’ve become, but you’re determined to make this last moment matter. He wants to give you what you’re asking for, but he can’t stop. He can’t stop the desperation in his voice or the anger in his body. 

You weren't dying, no, this was worse, you were giving up. Your tears stop and he sees you blink the last of them from your eyes. You’re still looking at him, you’re looking at him as if it will be your last opportunity to do so, and he wishes it could be a better one. 

He doesn't understand why youre not fighting, why youre not trying to get away from the men who circle around you and start to drag you away. You go with them as if they're not leading you to a world that doesn't have him in it. 

And all he could do was watch, watch as you went through agonizing despair, watch as they took you from him.

Everything around him turns silent. He no longer hears the yelling of the people behind him, he no longer pays attention to the alarm that has started to sound. 

It is in that moment that he gets it, because the moment he can no longer see you, he stops everything he’s doing. He stops screaming, he stops crying, and he drops to his knees. 

Everything around him becomes a background noise that he no longer cares enough about to identify. And he understands now. He understands the tranquillity in losing the only thing that keeps you going. He knows because it isn't even a choice. He knows he will do anything and everything to get to see you again. He will spend the rest of his life looking behind him as if you’ll be there, reaching for you until his mind starts to take pity on him and he’ll get to see you again.

And he will gladly lay down his own life to give yours back to you. Even if he doesn't get to see you again, the knowledge that you will be alright will bring him all the peace he could wish for in this moment right here.

Because what is there to lose, he thought, when you've already lost your mind.

[cabotwife]

(ii) Kill or Be Killed

series master list, (i),

Finnick Odair x sister reader x brother Percy Jackson, Annie Cresta x sister reader

chapter warnings: not proofread, descriptions of violence, blood, stabbing, bad cliche ig..

word count: 3009

❧ summary: nothing could prepare you for the tortures of the arena.

✮

the room is so silent and still, it's as if the world has paused around you. the young girls around you, sensing the tension and the impending doom, move away from you, creating a vacuum.

you look around, your eyes welling up with tears as two stern peacekeepers push you towards the stage with an unnecessary force.

"don’t be shy dear, come on,” the tall woman chuckles, but her laughter only echoes emptiness and insensitivity.

her words make you feel sick. they are an unpleasant reminder that this is all just a big, twisted game for the people of the Capitol, a sickening spectacle of their power and cruelty.

you stand stiffly on the stage next to her, staring out at the sea of people, their faces a mix of fear, sorrow, and resignation.

the woman, oblivious to your discomfort, smiles at you, her hand rests lightly on your shoulder before pulling it back to pull the name of the male tribute.

your eyes lock with Percy’s and you can tell he’s fighting back tears, struggling to hold onto his composure.

your throat feels dry as you glance at the woman next to you, praying to every deity in existence that she doesn’t read your brother’s name.

“Brooks Royle!” she calls in a singsong tone, her voice echoing through the square and bouncing off the silent buildings.

you let out a shaky breath, your watery eyes frantically scanning the crowd to find the boy. Your heart sinks to your stomach when your eyes land on a small, scruffy-looking 12-year-old. he looks so tiny, so out of place in this scene of horror.

you watch as he's brought to the stage, a permanent frown playing on your lips. you feel a sense of foreboding, a dread that is hard to shake off.

once the boy is on the stage, standing on the opposite side of the woman than you are, the woman places her hands on both of your backs as she talks to the crowd.

your eyes soon find Finnick’s, despite the situation, he's trying to remain stoic so he can comfort Annie. your eyes then fall from those of your older brother to the crumpled mess of his girlfriend.

you squint your eyes slightly as you stare at her and the tears form in your eyes again, threatening to spill over, but they never do. they remain a silent testament to your fear, your despair.

you gnaw lightly on your bottom lip, a silent thought running through your head, she shouldn’t have worn that sweater. you try to convince yourself that this is the reason the redheaded woman was sobbing against your brother. now she has to stay out here longer.. she’ll overheat.

your thoughts are interrupted when you feel yourself being dragged off the stage and into a room.

“Y/N!” you hear your name being screamed, the voice echoing in your head. but before you can look behind you, the door slams shut. and before you know it, you're in a room, all alone.

you stare at the door, trying to wrap your head around everything. it feels like a nightmare, one you desperately want to wake up from.

after a few minutes, Annie pushes into the room, her face pale and red all at once. Finnick and Percy follow her in, their faces mirroring her despair.

“oh, y/n.” Annie cries, her voice choked with emotion as she crashes into you, pulling you into her arms, “oh my sweet girl.”

you swallow hard, biting back the urge to cry. you have to stay strong for them.

the redhead pulls back, cupping your cheek as she stares down at you. her cheeks are soaked with tears and her eyes are so red they're nearly bloodshot.

you fight harder to keep the tears at bay, your bottom lip trembling as you stare up at the woman who has been like a mother to you since your own had passed.

Percy and Finnick stay silent, just watching. but the younger of the two is practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, itching to get a word in before they’re dragged out.

you’ve all done this before, twice. once for Finnick and once for Annie. this isn't new, but it's still terrifying.

Percy is staring at his hands that hang down by his side, he’s counting how much time remains. time, it seems, is running out.

Annie pulls you into another hug, looser this time, and she rests her chin on the top of your head. “it’s okay to cry, y/n, i know you’re afraid. it’s okay.” she whispers through a shaky breath. her words are meant to comfort you, but they only serve as a reminder of the hopelessness of your situation.

you swallow once more, shoving the tears down. “i’m fine,” you respond, your voice low. you pull back from the redhead. you smile up at her, then you turn to look at your brothers, “i’m fine. everything is okay," you reassure them, but your words ring hollow, even to your own ears.

Percy’s watering eyes meet yours and you frown at him. you pull back completely from Annie, letting your entire body face the shorter boy. you open your arms, inviting him forward.

the blonde wastes no time, quickly rushing forward into your arms. you immediately wrap your arms around him in response, “oh, Perce..” you whisper, pressing your nose into his hair as you two hug tightly, holding onto each other as if you’ll never see each other again.

because you might not.

“i love you, okay?” you whisper against his blonde curls, “i love you so much,” you mutter. your words are desperate, pleading almost. you need him to be strong, to be brave.

Percy nods against your shirt and you can feel his tears soaking the cloth. his silent tears are more powerful than any words he could ever say.

you look to Finnick, his eyes are teary and his cheeks are wet. you’ve never seen your older brother cry. he didn’t cry when he got reaped, he didn’t cry when mom and dad died, and he didn’t even cry when Annie got reaped.

the sight is new for you, and it makes a wave of nausea hit you. it's a stark reminder of the reality of your situation.

you know you don’t have to bid the older blonde farewell, seeing as he has to come with you, to mentor you and young Brooks. still, though, you nod your head at him, motioning him closer.

the tall boy hesitates for a moment before he rushes over to take you and Percy into his arms. Annie joins shortly after.

you can’t find it in you to enjoy the hug, though it does bring a sense of comfort. it's a small respite in the midst of chaos.

but soon, that comfort is torn away. two tall peacekeepers barge into the room to take you to the train.

one of them escorts Annie and Percy out of the room. Percy tries to fight but its of no use, the door is slammed behind them.

leaving you, Finnick, and the other peacekeeper in the room. the room is suddenly too big, too empty. and you're left alone once again, to face the reality of your grim fate.

⚘

the journey to the Capitol was surprisingly silent, broken only by the soothing tones of Finnick as he tried to comfort young, weeping, Brooks Royle. your older brother's indifference towards your presence was an unexpected sting.

he acted as if you were a ghost, an invisible entity.

Mags was seated nearby, her gaze lost in the distance. she seemed to be consumed by her own thoughts, perhaps reliving past horrors or contemplating the grim future.

the thought of her and Finnick, burdened with the responsibility of mentoring young children destined to die, filled you with a sense of dread.

your eyes met those of a tall blonde. you offered him a gentle, comforting smile - a feeble attempt to lighten the heaviness that hung in the air. but he merely averted his gaze. disheartened, you returned to your aimless gazing of the passing landscape through the window of the speeding train.

⚘

upon arrival, you were immediately whisked away for bathing and dressing. before you knew it, you found yourself adorned in a rather elegant dress of blue and white ripples, embellished with countless pearls. pearls were everywhere - stitched into the fabric of your dress, draped around your neck, and woven into your hair.

Brooks' attire was a reflection of yours, a ruffled tuxedo in varying shades of blue. you suppressed an eye roll at the sight of the young boy covered in pearls.

assisting Brooks, you both mounted your chariot, your arm on his back to steady him. chariots were not designed for comfort or safety; they were built for speed.

everything happened so fast. before you knew it, the introductions were over and you were reunited with Finnick and Mags, who escorted you to your suite.

tomorrow training begins.

⚘

the next few days were filled with anxiety and tension. Finnick's obvious avoidance of you only added to your unease. he focused his attention on Brooks or frequently disappeared with the district seven girl he was odd friends with, Johanna Mason.

Johanna was intriguing, though you had never really spoken to her.

Johanna was pretty, you guess, far prettier than many other members of her district.

your skill demonstration earned you a score of 8, which only proved to upset Finnick. when you tried to approach him, he stormed off before he could witness Brooks' score of 6. you comforted the young boy with a hug and words of encouragement, you told him you were proud of him.

⚘

"stay diligent. expect the unexpected. you're never safe, not in that arena, always keep your guard up," Finnick warned, his words tumbling out in a rush as you prepared for the arena. he cupped your cheeks and planted a dry kiss on your forehead, "stay safe, little sister."

you hugged him quickly before entering your tube. tilting your head, a small smile played on your lips. "i love you," you say quietly just before the tube closed and propelled you into the arena.

the bright light was blinding as you emerged onto the podium for district four. your gaze was drawn to the cornucopia, but before you could take in your surroundings, a loud explosion startled you.

a competitor from district ten had stepped off their podium early. that's when you noticed the entire ground was covered in sand.

your head whipped around, a hot, dry desert extended in all directions.

fuck.

soon a blaring gunshot sounds through the arena and at least 17 tributes ran towards the center.

you knew better though, you hopped off your stand and hightail it towards one of the nearby sand dunes.

this arena is godawful, nowhere to hide.

that’s probably what they wanted.. a quick game.

it’s doubtful it’ll last even a few days, not like the other games.

you’re not even running for two minutes before you get tackled, the two bodies rolling down the opposite side of the dune, wrestling the entire time.

once you stop rolling you shove the body away from you, scrambling to get to your feet.

when you look to the form, now pushing themselves to their feet, you see a tall, dark haired boy who you recognized from the training room.

he’s from district two. he’s a career.

you have to act fast, he probably has a weapon while you have nothing.

you see him reaching towards his thigh.

act fast

you hurriedly kick a foot-full of sand towards the tall boy’s face, inwardly cringing as he falls backwards with grains of sand caked in his eyes.

you rush to him, grabbing a silver dagger from his pocket before standing over him.

kill or be killed. you remind yourself.

you then plunge the sharp blade into the boy’s chest, swallowing harshly to ward off the nausea at the sickening crack and pop you hear. the sound is quickly followed by a bubble of blood forming in the career’s mouth before popping all over your forearms.

you rip the knife out of him, wiping the blood on his shirt before you run, trying to get as far away from the remaining tributes as you can.

and trying to push what had just happened out of your mind.

kill or be killed.

you run as fast and as far as you can, your feet sink into the fine sand with every step but you pay it no mind. all your thoughts are on surviving.

the sun sets quickly and soon the blazing hot desert is turning into a freezing cold tundra, caked in snow.

you sleep through the night, sending a silent prayer to any gods listening to keep you safe and from freezing to death.

you know your prayers were answered when you wake up the next morning to three canons going off in the distance.

you try to count in your head as you push yourself up from the moist sand. between 15 and 17 deaths.. you don’t know for sure. but that would leave somewhere around 9 and 7 tributes left.

honestly, the numbers confused you.

24 kids were unleashed into a barren desert and told to fight to win. there is nothing around, nowhere to hide.

how is anybody still alive?

you scale the sand dune you had been sleeping at the base of, kicking sand out behind you as you climb.

once you reach the top the first thing you notice is the remaining tributes had made teams. two teams of 4 to be exact.

once team of the remaining careers, and the other of two tall but scrawny boys, a mid-sized dark haired girl, and young Brooks Royle.

you feel unreasonably relieved when you notice your district-mate still standing, and seemingly better off than you.

Finnick’s training paid off, you think to yourself.

that thought brings a new feeling to your chest. you miss your brother, your brothers, and you miss Annie too.

you miss district four, the beaches and the fish, the warm salty air and the feeling of the sun kissing your face.

if you were to make it out of this arena, you don’t think you could ever see the sandy beaches in the same rosy light you always had before.

that day passes rather slowly, you keep your distance from the two teams who have seemingly forgotten about your existence, targeting only each other.

by the time the sand turns to snow, 3 more deaths raked through the arena. one career and two from Brooks’ side.

his chances are slimming and you find yourself worrying for the boy.

this night was colder than the last, making you unable to sleep.

so you stay awake, plotting.

both teams are asleep just a while past your dune, you could leave then to kill each other off and fight whoever is left standing.

or you could sneak down there now, in the dead of night, and put an end to this all.

you decide against the latter, still feeling sickened by your first kill.

kill or be killed, you chastise yourself mentally, swallowing harshly.

you settle in your, for now, snowy bank. closing your eyes and trying to get some sleep before the blazing morning comes.

your awoken again by a canon firing, and just like yesterday, you scale the sandy dune to see who has died this time. before you get to the top you hear another canon.

you peer over the top, expecting to see Brooks and his remaining teammate, a tall scrawny blonde boy you recognize as district twelve, laying dead on the scolding sand. but instead you see two dead careers, stabbed to death in their sleep it looks like.

the district twelve boy is fighting the remaining career while brooks is hidden by the cornucopia.

you furrow your eyebrows as you watch this play out.

you swallow down the large, dry lump in your throat at you hear the third canon fire.

the final career is dead. beaten by a outer-district boy.

your eyes land on where Brooks is hidden, now realizing the gravity of his situation. he is now being hunted by the bloodthirsty blonde boy who is at at least five years older than him.

you fumble around with the silver dagger in your hands and before you know it you’re clumsily running down the dune, towards the cornucopia. towards young, terrified Brooks Royle.

as you get closer you can hear the clashing of metal on metal, it sounds like an old-timey sword fight.

the loud sound of a canon firing echos through the air.

“NO!” you scream, your voice raspy and shaky.

you continue to run, your voice shocking the, much taller than you, boy and causing him to spin around to face you.

he’s holding a long, metal sword.

you plunge your dagger into his gut, causing him to stumble back while he swings his sword at you.

you kick sand at him, trying to repeat what you did to the district two boy only two days earlier.

it works the same, sand caking in his eyes, causing him to fall back, rubbing his eyes almost violently.

you stand over him, hands shaking as you hold your dagger.

you close your eyes tightly before you raise your arms above your head and quickly thrust the blade down into the center of the boy’s chest.

you hear the same sickening crack and pop, followed promptly by an echo of a canon booming.

you stand there, eyes squeezed shut and your hands covered in the blood of the boy underneath you.

when the distant victory music begins blaring through the arena you collapse onto your knees beside the lifeless body.

you let out a shaky sob as you bury your face in your arms, your forehead pressed against the warm sand.

-

[(taglist) : @yourfavmiki @poppyalice2001 @importantpotato @lisedanie @babyzzlove @yhaywhwvsh @sleighingstella @kendaltip190-blog @gianni7867 @urbisexualfriend @comets-tail2 @sh1nnryuu @randomgurl2326 @incorrect-sherlock @kenzieisgone @leathesimp @tacomumun3r @chanelmelon ] (lmk if i missed a tag / if u wanna be tagged.)

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Just a question but will you do one with Leo X reader in fast forward??

Love your work ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Chrono Memories (Fluff)

FastForward!Leonardo x peacekeeper!reader

Thank you so much!!💚 And of course I can. Hope you like it💙😘

----------------------

Cody and Donnie have a new invention. A device that can show people’s thoughts and memories. Leo agrees to test it out, leading to a secret Leo had been keeping hidden for himself for some time.

Warnings: Accidental invasion of mental privacy, a little awkwardness, angst if you look closely, brotherly teasing, spelling.

----------------------

In the bustling laboratory of Cody Jones, the air was filled with the hum of futuristic technology. The turtles had gathered in Cody's lab, intrigued by the latest invention Donatello and Cody had been tirelessly working on for the past few days. A device that could delve into one's memories and project them for others to see. An idea Cody had had for the longest time, that he finally was able to make reality with the help of Donatello.

Leonardo, the stoic and disciplined leader of the turtles, was the chosen subject for the experiment. Despite his initial reservations, he agreed to be the guinea pig for the sake of scientific curiosity. Especially after Donnie and Cody had showered him with praise over his mental control, stating that it would make him the best test subject out of all the turtles.

Cody adjusted the settings on the sleek, high-tech console while Donatello double-checked the connections to the electroids on Leo’s head. Leo, placed in a somewhat comfy chair, watched as they worked around him. The room was filled with a faint blue glow as the device on the small table in front of him powered up, ready to plumb the depths of Leonardo's memories.

“But what if his skull is too thick?”, Michelangelo asked in a teasing manner, causing Raphael to laugh.

“Thicker than your skull? I highly doubt it”.

"Alright, Leo, just relax", Cody instructed, adjusting a few more settings on a holographic control board to his right.

"We'll start with a simple childhood memory, nothing too intense", Donatello said, taking a few steps back to look at the setting Cody was plotting in. “If there’s anything you don’t want us to see, you should just be able to lock us out of the memory, okay?”

Leo nodded, closing his eyes as he focused on the task at hand. The device whirred to life, and the room was enveloped in a soft glow. A three dimensional hologram was shown from the device, playing out the memory Leo had allowed.

As the holographic projection unfolded in Cody's lab, the images of Leonardo's memories began with scenes from his childhood training with Master Splinter. The hologram displayed a young, determined Leonardo practicing katas and perfecting his martial arts skills under the watchful eye of his wise sensei. The room was filled with the sound of wooden weapons clashing, and the young turtle's dedication to his training was evident.

“Awww”, Mikey cooed, watching the young version of his oldest brother train. “Baby Leo in the old, old lair. How sweet!”

“I remember that”, Raphael said, a small smile spreading over his face. “I was trying to sleep and they kept me up. Took long before Leo finally decided to sleep himself”.

“Okay, Leo”, Donnie said, smiling fondly as he remembered how Raph would grumble in the other bunk. “Now give us access to a more recent memory”.

Then, the hologram seamlessly transitioned to a scene set in the futuristic city of 2105. Tall skyscrapers adorned with neon lights loomed in the background, a stark contrast to the training grounds of his youth. The holographic Leo, was shown in various action-packed scenarios - defending the city from new threats, leading his brothers into battle with an unwavering determination.

But then, a sudden shift occurred. The scene changed, glitching for a short second. For a short moment, Leo’s brother could have sworn they saw a scene of Leonardo stealing glances at someone. But a frown on Leo’s face and a sudden turn of his head, caused the scene of him and his brothers to return.

“Interesting”, Cody said, looking closer at the numbers. “Seems like an involuntary thought was trying to take over”.

“Leo? An involuntary thought? That doesn’t sound right”, Raphael said, crossing his arms.

“Well, that’s what it looks like”, Donnie said, agreeing with Cody.

However, the glitch appeared once more, and this time it didn’t disappear when Leo turned his head. The hologram shifted to a scene of you, a skilled peacekeeper, and now a well known friendly face to the turtles and Cody. One of the few peacekeepers that actually seemed to believe and listen to what the turtles had to say. You were wearing the advanced and sleek uniform your job required, just like you always did whenever you and the other peacekeepers would stumble upon the turtles. Leo's admiration for you was palpable in the holographic images. The way his shoulders would relax at the sight of you along with the little spark in his eye.

In the hologram, Leonardo was shown observing you from a distance during peacekeeping missions, his keen eyes tracking your every move with a mix of admiration and respect. There were moments captured where he assisted you in small impromptu training sessions, exchanging martial arts techniques and strategies, along with small talk. The holographic Leo displayed a warmth in his eyes that was reserved solely for you, a softness that contrasted with his usual stoic demeanor.

“Okay, maybe we should shut it down”, Cody said, noticing the way Leo turned his head once again, trying to lock the memory off from them.

The scenes continued to unfold, depicting shared moments of camaraderie and unspoken connection. A holographic image showed Leo stealing glances at you during scoldings he and his brothers got from the head of the peacekeepers. It also captured his sudden avoidance of your gaze, the moment you realized someone was looking at you.

“Oh no”, was all Donnie said before frantically tapping at the settings on the console.

“What is happening?”, Mikey asked, slightly fearful of the grimace on Leo’s face.

“Seems like our Chrono Memory Displayer isn’t working quite as intended”, Donnie said with a nervous laugh.

“How so?”, Raph asked.

“Well, I don’t know, maybe by invading his privacy!”, Donnie exclaimed, pointing to the scenes that was still playing in front of them.

The glitch revealed glimpses of Leo's more vulnerable moments - times when he privately grappled with his feelings, questioning whether it was appropriate to harbor emotions for a fellow warrior in the midst of their duties. Especially one from a different time than himself. The holographic projection conveyed a genuine and unguarded side of Leonardo that his brothers had rarely seen. How he would sit nervously in his room, leg jumping at the thought of you.

As the holographic display concluded when Cody finally found a way to turn it off, the room fell into a thoughtful silence. As Leo opened his eyes and took the electrodes off with the help of Donatello, no one said a word. The turtles and Cody exchanged glances, realizing the depth of Leonardo's feelings for you.

Raphael, breaking the silence, let out a low whistle. "Well, well, Leo. Looks like you've been holding out on us".

Leo, now fully aware of the revelations, couldn't meet the eyes of his brothers. Instead, he turned his gaze to the ground, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

Donatello, attempting to break the tension, said with a slightly nervous laugh; "Guess it takes a machine to break into Leo’s thoughts. Who would've thought?"

But the silence from the leader in blue spoke volumes. Leonardo's secret thoughts and hidden feelings were laid bare for all to see. The holographic projection captured moments of shared smiles, the softness in his eyes when you were around. It was evident that the fearless leader of the turtles harbored a crush on you.

Raphael couldn't help but snicker, earning a sharp look from Leo. Leo knew that was just Raph’s way of coping with awkward tension like this, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit of anger burn in him. Just a little. So small that it burned out with Cody’s words.

"It seems our device works a bit too well. Sorry about that, Leo. We didn’t mean to see all that".

The leader of the Turtles sighed, a slight blush tinting his cheeks. "It's fine. Just... be more careful next time", he said, nodding at Cody’s words, flashing him a small smile. He knew that they didn’t mean to do this, and something in Leo had always known that one day, they would learn about his crush on you, no matter if he was ready for it or not.

Mikey, always the one for humor, jumped to Leo’s side before wrapping an arm about his shoulder. "Well, Leo, looks like you've got some explaining to do!", he said, squishing his big brother close in a show of affection.

“Maybe another day”, Leo said, getting out of Mikey’s grip and standing from the chair. “Right now I’m still a little… shaken”.

“But there’s no explaining to do”, Raph said, pulling Leo into yet another brotherly hug. “You got a crush on (Y/N), and that’s it. No more explanation there”, he continued, poking Leo’s face in a teasing manner.

“Okay, you got me!”, Leo said, breaking free from Raph. “I have a crush on (Y/N). You’re right about that. Now, can we drop it?”

“Sure, we can drop it”, Mikey said, tapping his chin in thought. “Or, we could call the peacekeepers and tell them about a break in”.

“A break in?”, Cody asked confused. “When? Has anything been stolen?”

“I’m not sure when, but I am quite sure that one of the peacekeepers stole Leo’s heart”, Mikey answered, just managing to dodge before Leo could grab onto the tails of his bandana. “We should definitely call the peacekeepers!”, Mikey yelled over his shoulder as he ran out the laboratory with Leo on his heels. “Leo is trying to assault me!”

“Call the peacekeepers and they will be investigating a murder!”, Leo yelled as they ran past Serling, causing the poor robot to tumble over.

Cody, Donnie, and Raph all watched from the laboratory entrance, exchanging glances.

“With that character change, I bet 10 bucks she already knows he has a crush on her”, Raph said.

“Bet”, Cody and Donnie said, turning to Raph for a handshake.

[especiallythewomenandthechildren]

As If Destiny (part eight) 🌹

Part Seven 🌹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He joked at you as you gasped in mock offense.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Y/N?"

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

"Why are you here?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Otto?"

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

"Why are you leaving?"

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

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

He had promise.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Cloria. Fiora."

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

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

"Hey, kid."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Welcome to the Capitol."

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

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

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

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

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

"Tastes like bedtime."

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

"So what do our mentors do?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

I hate you so much, you idiot Coriolanus Snow.

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

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

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

"I'll kill you right now."

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

"He killed a peacekeeper back in eleven."

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

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

"I call dibs on killing her."

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

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

"Don't you touch her!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And you a mender, princess?"

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

"Better hope I'm not yours."

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

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

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

"I'll still kill you."

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

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

"Because there is no food."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're dead."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Huh, look at this. Capitol bleeds."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you seriously asking me that, Coryo?"

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

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

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

"Do you remember the station?"

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

"The station we were just at?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laughed without humor, a grim noise.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I’ll add insubordination as well."

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

"Snow and Vaun fell down in the cage."

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

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

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

"On stage."

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

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

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

"If the Games continue at all."

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

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

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

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

"Coriolanus was the one."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"They are obviously humans."

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

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

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

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

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

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

You paused, trying to compose yourself, while all pairs of eyes were on you. Well, all except Sejanus. You two have never had a quarrel. If there was anyone who the rest were certain would back up Sejanus, it would be you. But here you were, spitting words of venom and unfortunate truth.

"Death doesn't discriminate by age. War doesn't discriminate by age. Each and every one of us here had to become soldiers and survivors by age five." You paused, "Does that sound like humanity? Like the pure good you preach about the districts? They are just like us. Whether or not you want to see it. You claim us evil and we might be. But tell me who do you think caused us to be so harsh? If we were able to kill at six years old, I am quite sure those sixteen-year-olds wouldn't bat an eye. If you don't believe me, let me ask Otto."

The mention of your brother caused the already dead silent classroom to stiffen. Even Highbottom, who disliked yet another reminder of Cloria Vaun (or Emberidge, depends on what memories), had to throw back another shot of morphling. Sejanus was already uncomfortable with your sudden shift in demeanor and your public argument. His discomfort increased when you began using the words "we" and "us," but the mention of Octavius Vaun made him freeze. You rarely mentioned him and if you ever did, you couldn't bring yourself to say his name. You never gave the full details of his death, but you told him enough to know it was a subject never to be brought up. Now that you did, he, along with the rest of your class, knew you weren't going to be able to be controlled.

And you weren't. You didn't let up your hold on attention for a good while as you kept going.

"Hmm? Or how about we ask all of our classmates that should be here? All those people who should be our friends, lovers, siblings? What about those infants who died before they could take a breath because their mothers died of starvation? Let's go ask their corpses, huh! Oh wait, right. Just go around and ask the Capitol population. We didn't have a body clean-up system back in the war. What do you think we did with the bodies?"

The slow realization and remembrance of whispers of the war crept back to Sejanus's mind. Your voice was steady as you continued.

"We had to get whatever nutrition we could, no matter where it came from."

Clemensia had turned deep shades of green at the mention. At the memories.

"Y/N, please stop."

Her wobbly voice and discomfort did the exact opposite of her pleas. You took a look around the classroom to see your peers avoiding eye contact with you and looking one step away from barfing. The sight made you laugh in dark hysteria as you now addressed the room.

"Really?! That's all it took? Ten years? Ten years and you forgot everything! Now that you don't have to throw the last words of your loved ones in a fire to keep warm! These pristine uniforms and marble classrooms enough?! You forget when you had to survive for weeks off of a single rat carcass? When you had to fight deranged old men for a half-empty bag of moldy peaches for your entire family? When your only drink was your own blood? No memories!? No memories of the insanity causing people flinging themselves off of rooftops and others beating the vultures to cut up their corpses!"

Your voice was in a full, rage-fueled yell by the time you finished. You would have continued if a hand on your shoulder didn't signal to stop. You looked up, ready to fight whoever it was, until you realized it was Coryo. You expected him to be embarrassed of you, maybe angry. But he wasn't. His eyes seemed to be glowing with understanding and a shared irritation. After a minute of you calming down, a voice perked all too happily.

"My, my, what a declaration!"

Dr. Gaul was all too eager at your fury. Her blood was on fire with excitement at your sentiments. The question she initially came here to ask you and Coriolanus was finally ready to be asked.

"What are the Hunger Games for?"

The woman looked between you and Coriolanus, eager for an answer to which the latter responded.

"They’re to punish the districts for their uprising, to commemorate the end of the war."

Her smile was gone at the disappointing answer.

“Commemorate the… Dull, dull, dull. Punishment can take myriad forms. Why not drop bombs, cancel food shipments, stage executions? Why Games?"

Her question was not met by either of the two students she wished but rather the clear sympathizer in the form of Sejanus Plinth.

"Shouldn’t we be asking ourselves whether or not they’re right in the first place?"

"You have a problem with my Games?"

Any answer was intercepted by Dean Highbottom who has more than enough of this discussion and development.

"Perhaps the Capitol students are ill-suited to be mentoring tributes. Perhaps the Game’s time has passed."

It was then when you regained your voice.

"It clearly hasn't. The Games, whatever their ultimate purpose, is a reminder. To the districts, most definitely, but also the Capital. It is clear that most here wish to forget and hide away the horrors we've endured. Forget all you wish, but the districts won't. They have to suffer what we did and we have to remember why."

Dr. Gaul was taking in your answer. And it clearly pleased her, whether that be a good or bad thing. That curiosity and thrill continued as Coriolanus added in some suggestions.

"Maybe we should be viewing those tributes as human beings. I mean, you saw those kids in the zoo; they just… they just wanted to get to know Lucy Gray. If we need people to watch, we should be letting them get closer to the tributes before the Games. To make the stakes personal."

As your apparent partner continued, the gears in your mind started turning.

"Who will watch the Games if they care what happens to the tributes?" Arachne questioned. And you were the one to answer.

"Everyone."

When you answered, Coriolanus looked to you with a ghost of a smile on his lips as you understood.

"You wanted them to be spectacles? What's better than letting them share their characters? Their lives, dreams, regrets. Biggest loves and losses. If you want people to watch, they will when they have people to root for and against."

Young Snow was quick to pick up after you.

"And if we bend a few Capitol laws, we could even have them place bets. The winner of the arena may not be the same as the winner of the people."

You jumped back into the conversation with a slightly more chipper tone.

"Give them interviews to learn who they are. Maybe we can even do skill tests. If you use Coriolanus's betting system, it can give even the weakest of tributes more of a chance. People would not only be able to bet on who they like the most but who has more of a chance. Not to mention they would have the power to change those odds."

Dr. Gaul was at all-time levels of elation at the pair. She knows promise when she sees it.

"I’d like you to write up a proposal of these thoughts tonight, Mr. Snow and Miss Vaun. "

You turned to look at said Mr. Snow when a certain raven-haired girl stood up from her seat next to him.

"Wait. You mean you might actually use their ideas?"

Clemensia thought her two high-achieving friends' ideas would just be left floating and not actually implemented in one of the most important events of the country.

"If it’ll help the ratings, why not."

Dr. Gaul’s words made the realization hit you like that cursed cattle train. Your ideas were shared in a slight haze of excitement and lingering fury. If your suggestions really were implemented, you may have just subjected generations of children to death.

Your revelation was clear on your face as Sejanus looked up to who he called his closest friend. He felt slightly betrayed by your outburst, but more so confused. Though, his anger and confusion dissipated a good amount when he saw the horror of realization upon your face.

On the other side of the star pupils, Clemmie slightly shuddered as the outlandish Gamemaker turned her cold gaze upon her. The young woman put on her charming smile as she tried to weasel her way into success.

"Coriolanus and I are class partners, Dr. Gaul. We do all of our assignments together."

You shared eye contact with the girl's partner who seemed to be just as skeptical as you. You turned in Dr. Gaul's direction, which also happened to be Sejanus's. You looked down and saw his face look glossy and hurt. A pain that transferred over to you at the sight. But that would be for a later time. For now, you looked up and informed the Gamemaker that you would be doing your proposals on your own.

The classroom was filled with the manic laughter of the woman. Doubt started filling up your veins at working with the prominent figure. Her bright teeth shone bright as her diabolical smile grew.

"It’ll be an interesting test."

A test of intellect, character, and survival indeed.

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You and Coriolanus sat at a small table on the edge of the cafeteria. You wished to be nowhere near the prying eyes and gossiping mouths of your peers. But apparently, Lucy Gray asked for food, and you couldn't let her or Jessup go hungry. Yet, you were now an active hand in their death.

That ever so active voice in your head kept on screaming against your heart. Your napkin was full of the food that used to reside on your plate, and now you were just waiting for Coryo, who came in a bit later than you. He was fast and smooth in his movements and was barely deterred from his actions when a voice rounded your table.

"You trying to fatten those kids up so you can finally start taking bets? Make sure they look lively enough to make good interviews?"

Sejanus spewed his remarks as he sat down on a chair at the head of the table. You glanced down in shame, but the words didn't bother Coriolanus.

"You think they’ll give those kids a scrap if we don’t give them a reason to do it? How do you think your tribute will have a chance if he can’t eat?"

You looked between the two. Sejanus seemed to concede at that point while Coryo kept on stuffing the napkin. The brown-eyed boy's voice seemed to soften in pain.

"He was my classmate. Back in two."

You sucked in a sharp breath. It was already hard enough for him to be a part of the game, especially being given a tribute from his home district. But his own classmate? If you were Marcus, you wouldn't spare Sejanus a glance or a word. And that was the worst part. Sejanus would try to help in any way he could, but the situation he was in, "the lucky one," wouldn't make it very easy to gain the trust of his former classmate. Coryo stopped his movements to look at the only boy he could call a solid friend.

"It’s not your fault it’s him."

You both knew that it would still sit on his conscience, no matter if he really was to blame or not. His scoff said it all.

"See, I know. I’m so blameless, I’m choking on it. My father bought him for me, you know, at the Reaping, just so he could show me that I could never go back to two."

You couldn't believe it. It was common information to you how much Starbo tried to change his son. That doesn't mean you expected him to go to such lengths.

"Maybe you could use that to your advantage."

Sejanus whipped his head to you as he squinted at you. The girl in front of him wasn't the same angry one in the classroom. No, this was the same one who he called his best friend for years, yet it just confused him even more as to why you would suggest that. You were quick to elaborate when it seemed that neither boy caught on.

"You want the Hunger Games to end, right? You can do something about it. No real change will happen unless it happens in the Capital. You are one of the few who can actually do something and one of the even fewer who wants to."

Sejanus seemed to be contemplating your words when Coriolanus added on.

"The best way to change it is to be subtle. Small little changes and actions cause enough damage over time."

Sejanus looked down at his two friends' laps and looked back up with a smirk starting to form.

"Like napkins of food. Make them strong enough to be remembered. Quite the rebels."

His smirk seemed to be contagious as it spread to Coryo. You had a smile as well that only grew as Coriolanus spoke again.

"Oh yeah. I’m bad news."

His eyes were on you the entire time as a blush crept on you. Your teeth couldn't help but show as the three of you got up and started your walk to the Capital Zoo.

Like your morning walk with Coriolanus, this walk was short but a bit more cheery as your little friend group conversed. You feared Sejanus would hold your prior actions against you, but he understood, as always. Well, that and Coryo's explanation on how you both expanded the odds for the weaker tributes instead of making it worse.

You and Coriolanus were recalling the earlier events of the morning that didn't appear on live television.

"Wait wait, you did what to her?"

You were holding back a laugh as Snow described how you switched up Coral and the overdramatization of it.

"Okay, first of all, I did not knock the life out of her. And she was getting on my nerves. Like if you are gonna threaten someone, at least do it right!"

The two boys shared a look and laughed a bit at you. A laugh that was swiftly met with a glare.

"Wanna see me execute my threat, Plinth?"

He was quickly grabbed by his sleeve by Coryo to ensure his friend's safety. You turned forward with a smug smile at their fear while they walked a good meter away from you. Soon enough, however, your little moment was met a swift end as you reached the zoo.

There were far more visitors than this morning, but many seemed to be a ways away; the tributes being watched from afar. You and Coryo spotted your two tributes on the far left side of the area, laying their backs on a large rock. Marcus was on the other side, so your trio split as Sejanus tried so hard to get him to take the food from his hands. A task that was unsuccessful.

You got closer and saw Lucy Gray smile at Coryo and the food he carried and promised he kept. She noticed the napkin of food in your hands as well, making her smile grow.

The singer walked to the bars while Jessup stood behind, still pensive at your presence.

"Is that for us?"

She took the two napkins out of the Capital students' hands, handing one of them to her friend. He didn't even give the food a glance as he bore into your eyes, displeasure evident.

"I’m not hungry."

You had a polite smile prior, hoping to get off on a better start this time. But his refusal made it slightly deplete. You understood why. You and the rest of the Capital students here, which now included Arachne, must have seemed like a cruel joke life played on him. You were willing to walk away, maybe try to focus on helping Coriolanus with Lucy Gray if Jessup refused you.

But Lucy Gray refused the boy who protected her to go hungry. She pushed the food into his hands like a mother would to her child.

"You think I can’t hear your stomach growling, Jessup Diggs?"

He looked between the food, his friend, and you a good number of times before he surrendered to his growling stomach.

Satisfied, Lucy Gray turned back to Coriolanus and seemed to settle in across from him. You doubted Jessup recreate the friendly posture, but you sat down a bit further down from Coryo. She wasn't much further from Arachne, who seemed to be playing a torturous game with her tribute, Brandy.

Your face contorted in disgust at her actions. The girl was going to already struggle, what is the need to play with her hunger?

"You sure you don't want to play with me first?" You turned your head from the perusing scene to the new voice. In front of you stood Jessup Diggs. He stood there, analyzing you as if you were a puzzle that had no connecting pieces. Your eyes moved down the concrete you sat on as you let out a soft, sad laugh.

"Already bad enough I'm not in there with you. Don't need to rub it in any further."

He squinted his eyes down at you. Every statement that has come out of your mouth has only served to confuse him more. From your very first meeting, the truck, earlier when you were in the cage, and now. Arachne's moves and character were what he expected when he was traveling to the Capital. But you and Coriolanus (and a recent brunette curly-haired boy on the far end of the zoo) were the anomalies. Lucy Gray told him to accept your help as she would her mentors, which was reasonable enough.

But why did it seem like she actually trusted you two? Sure, you jumped in with them, but it seemed for more personal gain than their tribute's benefit.

You looked back up to a questioning Jessup. He didn't understand what you meant that you should be in there with him.

"What's the difference between us? I happened to be born in the right place, I guess."

Your nonchalance intrigued him more than it brought fear. You may be just putting up a facade to make him trust you, but what would be the point? He was gonna die soon enough.

Jessup, much to your surprise, sat across from you as he gobbled down the food. He noticed you looking down and eyed you suspiciously. You just lightly smiled and promised to get him more if he would accept. He turned his head from side to side in thought, which caused the left side of his neck to be exposed. A dark and deep mark appeared against his skin, which caused you to have an instinct to reach out and help.

However, your sudden movement towards his neck caused him to back up rapidly. The action caused Lucy Gray and Coryo to look over in fright. But neither of you looked back as you stared at him apologetically while he eyed you again.

"Sorry, I just noticed and worried me."

You mumbled it quietly, which was oddly enough, reassuring to Jessup. He did see the worry appear in your facial features. The emotion was too deep and genuine to be faked. He slowly got back to his original position.

You kept your hands to your sides as you looked over his wound. Your eyes moved from his neck to his deep brown eyes.

"It looks new. Can I ask what it's from? I may be able to get some medication."

Jessup wondered how much was available to you at just a snap of a finger. Were you the type of person to do that? His assumption of the Capital made him believe so, but your personal actions proved otherwise. Especially your little stunt with Coral.

"Bat bite. Got it when covering for Lucy Gray. Rather me than her."

Your eyes went from warning to a softened glow. He didn't like the feeling of trust building

"I don't want medication though. I want to go out my way."

You couldn't help but smile at his conviction. If he didn't get medication, there was no way he would be able to survive. But that didn't seem to bother him.

"Jessup, if it's from a wild bat, there is a likely chance you can get rabies. Are you sure? It does wild things to those infected."

The effects of it bothered Jessup slightly. He didn't want to die as a deranged man he couldn't recognize, but he didn't want to give the people who took everything from him the satisfaction of his death. He shook his head in assurance, and you were ready to drop it when a thought sprang through your mind.

"I am willing to drop it, but please, be completely sure if this is what you want. Do you have family back home who need you?"

The mention of his family made him clench his teeth, and you were sure you messed up. You were quick to apologize, but that didn't erase the pounding thoughts of the boy's family.

"The only thing they need me for is to clean their gravestones."

Your gaze was sympathetic, but you turned it away. You knew what it felt to be looked at like a kicked puppy after people learned of your mother's passing. You were sure a man like Jessup wouldn't be very fond of pity.

"He looked a lot like you."

Your head went through whiplash due to the speed you turned to the boy. Your eyes were now the analyzing and questioning ones. You motioned for him to continue; to make sense of his statement.

"The boy who killed my family. He couldn't be any older than me, sixteenish. He had your eyes."

Your breath seemed to speed up as it dawned on you what he could be saying. That sweet little Otto was capable of murdering an entire family. Then again, what would he think of your actions in the war? Jessup took in your reaction as he cautiously continued.

"Don't think he don'it before. Kept looking back and forth between my pops and brother. Like he was begging them to change back time."

You were no longer looking at the talking boy, but it was clear you were hanging onto every word. Your eyes fluttered around as you tried to make sense of the new knowledge.

"He had reason if that makes you feel better. They were rebels and took out a good number of Capital forces. Just those two on their own."

He didn't hide his proud smile as he didn't even realize it appeared for a few moments. When he did, he was ready to see you storming off, glare knives into him, or plan ways to make him and his fellow tributes suffer. But you were just looking at him, a sad smile on your lips. You couldn't blame his smile. It was his family succeeding in their beliefs, no matter how it pained you. It wasn't as if you were sentenced to a bloodbath as your final moments.

The lack of aggression you presented allowed for Jessup to precede.

"They stood proudly as they were accused of their crimes. He gave them a chance, but they didn't say a peep. The boy with your eyes was shaky as he raised the gun. My momma couldn't hold back and ran into the gunfire. In just three seconds, my entire family erased. Glad they didn't shoot into the floor."

His face shifted from pride to bitterness to a hollowed smile.

"Always check the floorboards of twelve. Never know what you find."

You wanted to pipe up when you heard the disgruntled grunts of Brandy and the mocking laugh of Arachne. It had paused for the majority of your conversation with Jessup because Arachne was busy being interviewed by Lucky Flickerman. Though now she was back, her little game was resumed.

It burned your blood at seeing her cruel game. No one would ever describe Arachne as nice, but she would never stoop this low. Unless they were the district, apparently. You quickly muttered an apology to Jessup as you got up and walked unamusedly to the red-haired girl. Your hand swiftly snatched the glass bottle before it disappearedinto the bar to tease the starving girl again. Arachne looked up to the intruder, and a deep scowl appeared when she saw your face. Behind you, the sun was bright, as if casting a halo down on you. Oh, how fitting for little miss perfect, the sour girl thought.

You turned to Brandy and gave her a warm smile as you gently laid the bottle down next to her. Her eyes narrowed at your act and were glazed over in dehydration. The girl's hands were lightning as they snatched the drink and gulped it down as fast as was possible.

You left the tribute to her drink as you were met with the nasty stare of Arachne Crane.

"Feel proud of yourself for making her suffer even more? I mean, come on, Arachne!"

You huffed at her, irritated at her childlike behavior. Your back was turned as you began walking back to your own tribute when her voice sneered.

"Wonder what dear old Otto would think of you taking care of the same animals that chopped him up into tiny little—"

At the sound of your brother's name, you had turned back, and as she continued, so did your strides. But it was the sound of glass shattering that made you jump into action.

Physically jump as you pushed Arachne out of the way of the oncoming bottle. Brandy had a clear shot to the front of her mentor's throat but due to your speed and slightly turned position, it didn't hit her target. Instead, the broken bottle jammed itself within the side of your neck as your knees buckled on impact. You felt around the area as hot sticky blood poured all over your fingers.

Your hearing began getting muffled, but the gunshots were piercingly loud, as was the sound of your attacker's body hitting the ground. You saw red around you, unsure if it was one of your fellow students or even more blood.

Black dots began spotting your vision as you fought to keep them open upon the orders of someone. You weren't sure who, but whoever the saving angel was, they were doing everything to keep you conscious. No screams came out of your mouth, but warm salty streams across your cheeks, mixing in with the now pooling blood.

The lack of audible panic made your internal one settle slightly. Your mother surely screamed herself on the path of death as did your aunt Fiora. But then again, maybe your brother died without a squeak.

Your eyelids felt as if they were being welded shut against all your will power. You turned your head to the left, which was the side that hadn't been stabbed. The last thing you witnessed before you lost all reality was a head of pretty white hair with matching gorgeous blue orbs. His mouth kept on moving and forming words, but no sound pierced your ears.

You felt his hands around you, cradling your gushing neck. His hands looked as if permanently stained with red dye as he moved them around frantically. In such movements, his hands happened to fling your now apparent rings in front of your view. The two golden ones on the outside seemed mostly clear if the blood overtook her. That accursed silver of a thousand snowflakes glistened under the sunlight. As much as a ring being drowned in blood could.

Your eyes flickered from the bloody snowflakes up to the eyes of a bloodless Coriolanus Snow. A Coriolanus Snow who begged you to open up your eyes. Who attempted to will it into existence before he was pulled off by peacekeepers. Your body was hastily put on a stretcher and sent straight to the Capital hospital.

Not a single blink occurred from the blue frozen eyes of the Snow heir. How is it that it was only this morning when you were on the other side of the cage? Safer on that side.

Snow was on the verge of a breakdown. One of anger and of fear. He was only mere feet away. Only a few feet away and you still might lose your life because he wasn't careful. A promise was sworn internally within that calculated boy that day.

Never again will you be choking on your blood while he stood aside with nothing happening. You were not going to suffer the same bloody fate as your mother. You would not suffer. He swore the vow repeatedly as he rushed through the streets to meet your unconscious body. The world can take his money, parents, even the Plinth Prize. He would refuse to give it anymore.

He would not give up on you.

He would not give you up.

A/N: so sorry for it being so long! Not very carefully read I'm so sleepy I'm seeing things help. Pls lmk your thoughts. Much love !!

⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆

@notyourwildestdream 🌹@darktrashsoulbear🌹@fantasylovestoryme 🌹@nekee-lilac02 🌹@a-avengerparker 🌹 @queenofshinigamis 🌹@darlingisntit 🌹

[siorca]

tf: one

Originally this was supposed to be just some starsky fluff but then my brain was like “what if starscream was like megatonus’ weird cat” and I’ve been picking at this for two weeks

—

Prima watched the exchange just outside of the light of the holomap. There weren’t many that were willing to go toe-to-toe with Megatronus, least of all the comparably tiny Cybertronians that Primus had created after the Thirteen. Starscream had proven himself to purposely go against the grain, always willing to argue, with a perpetual scowl on his face.

Many of the Primes did not like Starscream, unamused by his foul temper. Although it was unbecoming of a Prime, Prima had a strong belief that some of his comrades believed that as a Prime was the extension of the will of Primus, Cybertronians should temper themselves with humility.

Prima held no such archaic notions. Privately, he enjoyed how strong willed Starscream was. His tenacity represented the best of his species. It was thrilling to see him go head on with some of the more stubborn members of the Primacy. Starscream held no fear. It was endearing.

Vicious and determined, he had a strong need to protect his homeland, combined with a ruthless talent for violence. It made him a sight to behold on the battlefield. As High Guard Commander, he held invaluable intel on the morale among his fellow Cybertronians and unique insight into the movements of the Quintesson fleet. He had long ago proven himself to Prima to be a truly invaluable ally.

It helped, too, that Megatronus was very fond of him. As he took up most of the duties of directing the High Guard, he often took the brunt of Starscream’s ire. Even despite, or perhaps because of this, they had a mutual, sacred bond, that extended even beyond the battlefield. Megatronus had found a kindred spirit. It warmed Prima’s spark; so stubborn Megatronus was in who he chose to spend his free time with and how reserved he could be.

Prima watched Megatronus kneel next to Starscream near the holomap. Although the strongest and the largest of the Primes, he preferred not to intimidate nor loom. Megatronus’ razor sharp optics behind his mask watched the commander as he talked, as if trying to commit every small detail to memory. It was very charming, watching fearsome, strong, stoic Megatronus, bend to the whims of this tiny, ferocious warrior

The war room was mostly empty. The bulk of the planning for their next battle had already been finished - a minor skirmish a few cycles out that will hopefully help with one of their major supply routes. Most of the Primes and Guard advisors had already retired. While Starscream was often persnickety about war plans, his wings belied his hidden anxieties about the welfare of his unit. Despite how much he tried to hide it under abrasiveness, he cared deeply for his people. Megatronus understood this more than anyone.

Behind Prima stood Solus, a silent guardian, her mighty hammer tucked safely between her pedes. A fool would think she was bored, but the tight grip she kept on her handle ensured that she was a ready warrior. Solus was Megatronus’ closest companion, next to Prima. Master weaponsmith that she was, Solus enjoyed fostering her new forges onto Megatronus, and he, in return, loved to use them.

At the center of the chamber, Alpha Trion laid sentry over the control panel, subtly tweaking with the controls to give the illusion that he was needed. He often played peacekeeper, remaining a soothing neutral party when disagreements arose. There was a cool detachment in his stance, but the subtle twinkle in his optics belied how equally entertained he was by the encounter.

Megatronus and Starscream’s hushed whispers echoed harshly in the large chambers, creating a pleasant buzz of background noise. So lulled as he was by the hissing drone that Prima did not notice the quiet signal of an entrance ping.

“I apologize, Commander, but perhaps we should save some of your grievances for another time,” said Alpha Trion, gently, bemused. “Our resupply team has returned.”

Coming through the entrance was Skyfire, a mech who often volunteered for the extended supply runs. He was enormous for his station, but only came up to Prima’s shoulder on a good day. Prima knew him as a quiet and unassuming bot, far different from his compatriots in the High Guard. His bright white plating was scuffed and dirty, showcasing his long and dangerous mission.

“Good tidings, your Excellencies.” He bowed politely once fully absconded into the room. Prima offered his own nod in return, followed by the other Primes. Skyfire’s optics flickered down; small, warm smile on his face. “Hello Starscream.”

Starscream paused in his tirade, frozen, the sudden silence abrupt and off putting. His optics brightened, helm tilted as he appraised the newcomer. Then, in an impressive display of speed and agility, he flew across the room, burrowing into the heavy plating of Skyfire’s chest. If Prima were not a forged warrior, he would have flinched at the sudden flurry of movement.

Skyfire’s cheeks turned bright blue, haloed by his white plating. His hands migrated to the quivering edges of Starscream’s wings, instant and rhythmic, like they were always meant to be there, soothing the anxious lines. A full body melt against his plating was his reward.

Prima felt a lick of disapproval at the blatant public display of affection. Unfortunately, Starscream had a love for the spectacle and Skyfire was not a particularly confrontational mech.

Prima could not begrudge them too much. Skyfire was one of the few mechs who knew how to maneuver Starscream personality quirks. Buried deep, Prima was immensely grateful for Skyfire’s intrusion.

“Perhaps it would be best to reconvene for the cycle,” said Prima, letting all the authority of the leader of the Primes seep into his voice. Skyfire’s hands leapt away from Starscream as if burned, clutching them at his side. He met Prima’s optics with a not quite guilty expression. Starscream made no indication that he had heard him. “Skyfire, I shall receive your report by tomorrow’s mid-cycle, yes?”

Skyfire’s helm bowed, looking much too sheepish and contrite. His arms wound around Starscream’s shoulders to steer him out, though it was wholly unnecessary with the way Starscream so successfully dug his claws into him.

In the aftermath, Prima heard Solus’ quiet, muffled snickers. She came up to stand at Prima’s shoulder, her hammer swinging haphazardly at her side. “It is a blessing that he is such a fine warrior.” She patted his arm, consolingly.

Prima allowed himself a small smirk. “I suppose so, my lady.”

She smiled. “I shall see you tomorrow mid-cycle, then.” Turning to leave, she beckoned over her shoulder, “Megatronus, I shall see you for sparring early-cycle. Safe travels, Alpha Trion.”

“Safe travels,” echoed Alpha Trion. He continued to fiddle with his map, his eyes carefully tracing the pot-marked scars of enemy territory carved into the pre-rendered surface of Cybertron. He too, made his departure shortly after.

Prima’s optics flickered to Megatronus. He had returned to his full height, what little that could be see of his face forlorn, abandoned and lonely in the middle of the room without his companion, no doubt mourning their specific form of bonding.

Prima made his way over to Megatronus, patting his chest armor affectionately. “Have faith, Megatronus. There will be other arguments.”

Megatronus hummed, reaching up to grasp Prima’s servo, properly engulfing his hand in his massive purple claws. “I would hope so.”

Prima laughed lightly. “Well, my spark, I know you will be looking forward to that.”

[echoric]

“frozen bolts”

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Word Count: 4,615

Icemav Star Wars AU (Pre-Slash)

Summary:

Maverick glanced back at him, taking in his appearance silently while Ice’s sharp, blue-grey eyes scanned the horizon. They moved quickly from one end of the horizon and across and back again. It was a habitual movement, one that had been honed throughout years of war. His gaze flickered constantly, always assessing, as if every flicker of movement was a threat, as if every shadow might have been concealing an enemy. War had changed him since the last time Maverick had seen his friend, hardened him into an alert soldier ready to fight at a moment’s notice rather than the stoic peacekeeper he used to be. He had once been the calm in the storm that was Maverick’s life, always ready with a quiet word to ease a tense situation. Now, though, there was a tension in his shoulders and a sharpness to his gaze that only made Maverick realize just how far their paths had diverged.

-

aka the Star Wars AU that no one asked for but i provide anyway (Jedi Knight Iceman & Ex-General turned Senator Maverick)

12 Days of Ficmas DAY 4!!

[phoward89]

Masterlist

WARNING ⚠️: Coryo is his own warning in and of himself. Delusional!Coryo, Soft!Dark!Coryo, Soft!Dom!Coryo, Reader has some survival instincts, Reader knows keeping Coryo happy keeps her alive and well, cussing, possession, obsession, slight manipulation, smut, fingering- f receiving, p in v, creampie, breeding kink, praise kink, marriage, Sejanus thinks both Coryo & Reader are Delulu

Chapter 6:

Private Snow and Private Plinth were on factory watch duty this afternoon. They're stuck on the loom floor of the Peacekeepers’ Uniform Factory, standing guard to make sure that none of the sweatshop workers takes an early break, skips off before the end of shift, or to prevent any ruckus from starting and spreading. They both hated factory watch duty, but right now Coriolanus loathed it because he was stuck overlooking that ratty whore who thought that she could just swoop on in, after abandoning you to die, and steal you away from him.

Ugh, Ashlie. How he hated her.

Stupid district whore.

And then Coriolanus couldn't help, but, to find it ironic that he only now got assigned watch duty in the uniform factory that you were once employed at (he takes care of you now so you're never working in this shithole again). That all the other times he was on watch duty with Sejanus they were always assigned to one of the fabric factories or fashion warehouses on the other side of the district.

Sejanus noticed how his best friend and brother in arms seemed to be extremely happy today. He's never seen the stoic blonde so overjoyed before; it was, quite frankly, concerning him.

But before Sejanus could ask why his best friend's in such a good mood, the platinum blonde turned to him with a smile so wide that it was a bit frightening. Coryo's voice, that was usually so elongated, seemed to be a light and airy baritone as he announced, “Sejanus, I need you to come home with me tomorrow night. Y/N and I’s getting married in the District 8 traditional style and need you to perform the ceremony.”

“What?” Sejanus blinked in disbelief. Did he just hear what he thought he heard? Just to clear the air, he asked, “You and Y/N’s having a handfasting tomorrow night and want me to conduct it?”

“Is a handfasting what the marriage ceremony’s called here in 8?” Coriolanus asked instead of saying yes or no.

Clearly, the platinum blonde peacekeeper doesn't have a firm grip on life in the districts despite shacking up with a district girl. Oh boy, Sejanus doesn't want to deal with this right now. And isn't Coryo supposed to be the level headed one between them?

Oh, yea…

That's right, when it comes to pretty district girls and love, all logic goes out the window where Coriolanus is concerned. He makes brash decisions and thinks with his wrong head.

The teddy bear of a man, cursed to wear peacekeeper denim fatigues for the next 2 decades, nodded. “Yes, Coryo. That's what it's called.”

“Then yes, we're having a handfasting tomorrow night after work; I’ll be bringing you home with me to make sure it's legal.”

“Um…” Sejanus bit the inside of his cheek, trying to think of the right thing to say to his friend about his upcoming wedding. Something he thinks Coriolanus is going into too quickly and blindly. “Coryo, brother, I know you love your girl, but don't you think that maybe this handfasting’s a bit rushed?”

Coryo narrowed his icy eyes at his comrade, making them look like hardened steel. “No, I don't see how it's rushed, Sej.” Was the tall blonde's sharp reply.

“It's just, I dunno, Coryo-” Sejanus sighed, shaking his head. “Just that you two haven't really been together that long.”

“We live together, Sejanus. We've been together long enough to make that commitment; to get married too.”

If Sejanus only knew that Coriolanus' remark of long enough really meant since your whipping, well, he'd be stroking out and probably trying to get his bestie some mental help.

“Privates in the Peacekeepers aren't allowed to marry until their 20 years are up.” Sejanus pointed out as a last ditch effort to get his best friend to rethink or even cancel his handfasting.

Sejanus thinks Coryo's moving too fast with you. He's just trying to look out for his friend. Having a girlfriend’s one thing, but a wife's different. Divorce is outlawed and banned in the country of Panem; Coryo and you will be stuck together forever. Sej just doesn't want his friend to have regrets later on about a hasty marriage.

“Good thing I’m not staying Private Snow for long then, isn't it?” Coriolanus asked rhetorically, only to follow it up with a confident, “After taking that Elite Officer's Exam I estimate that I'll be shipped out for training right after the New Year.”

“You can still bring her with you, Officers can have their girlfriends with them.”

How dare that district Plinth dog tell him not to marry you? Who the hell does he think he is, telling Coryo to just keep living with you as his girl. Coryo promised to take care of you, to get you out of the districts, and above all he swore to marry you.

Coriolanus knows that he's a slithering snake tongued liar to people, but not to you. Your relationship is built on honesty, an integrity that he shares with you and only you. So, when he promises you something it's with the intention of fulfilling it. And he's going to fulfill his oath to marry you, no matter if he has to hogtie Sejanus and drag him home to your apartment to do it.

“I'm bringing her with me as my wife, Sej. So just shut up and come perform my district 8 ceremony tomorrow night.”

“Too bad we're not in 2. All you'd have to do is just exchange gold coins.” The broad Bones, dark haired peacekeeper half-chuckled.

Looks like he's stuck performing his best friend's handfasting tomorrow whether he wants to or not.

“So, you'll do it? Marry us?” Coryo asked, looking hopeful as the sound of looms being operated loudly sounded out in the air.

Against Sejanus' better judgement, he gave his friend a tentative smile and said, “Yes, Coryo, I'll do it.”

It was the least Sejanus could do. After all, Coryo stood by him during the 10th Hunger Games when he was doing some radical things that could've gotten him- them- killed. Coryo didn't agree with everything that Sej did, but he still stood by his side. They're best friends, brothers, and it's time for Sejanus to return the favor. He'll stand by the platinum peacekeeper’s side, as a brother should, even if he doesn't agree with him.

The food’s on the stove, done and waiting for Coryo to come home. You know that he's at the market, buying you some blue material to make your wedding dress with, so you're not concerned that he's not home at his usual time. Between work and the market, you imagine that his day’s a bit busy.

And you can always reheat the food real quick if it's cold when he does get home. You don't mind. You're just happy to have enough food in the house to be able to cook meals. Real meals, not some slop from stale oats or something.

You're grateful for Coryo and how he takes care of you despite the fact that he's the reason you still have at least a couple more weeks to heal from your whipping. At least a good thing came out of that bad, scary experience. You met Coryo and he, for some reason beyond your comprehension, decided to undertake your caretaking. He decided to make you his girl.

And tomorrow night he'll make you his wife.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the door creaking open followed by heavy bootsteps entering the one-room apartment. You turn your attention from the book you're reading and onto the tall blonde that just walked thru the door. You smile, seeing that he has a paper bag in his hand.

You get up to greet him by the door as he closes it. “So, you got the blue material.” You state, not ask, as you reach his side.

“Yea.” Coryo nodded, handing you over the paper bag. “I also got us a long, thick red ribbon for the handfasting.” He added in, taking off his coat and hanging it up. “Sejanus says that the ceremony's called a handfasting-” Your fiance began, taking off his boots, only for you to interrupt him with a one word question.

“Red?” You ask with a quirked brow.

“It's my favorite color.” Coryo explained before gesturing to the bag and urging, “Open it, baby, and see what I got you for your dress.”

The platinum blonde wore a proud smile on his face as you obliged him. First, you took the red ribbon out of the bag. It was blood red.

Oh boy…

Still clutching the ribbon, you took out a few yards of folded up material. It was simple and made out of cotton, but the shade was beautiful. It was cerulean and it matches Coryo's icy eyes perfectly. It was literally the same shade of blue as his eyes. The material enchanted you in a way.

“Do you like it?” Coryo asked, placing a hand on your shoulder and tilting his head slightly.

He prayed that you liked it. Coryo felt that the other blue fabrics in the cheap market stall he went to were either too dark or drap for you. He wanted his wife to have the best. To have a beautiful blue fabric for her dress.

You only get married once; he thinks you deserve the best despite the ceremony being district.

Nodding, you weakly smile, “It matches your eyes.”

“Yea?” He lightly chuckles. Honestly, he didn't even notice that the material’s the same blue as his eyes. But now he knows it is; he assumes you like it too.

“Yea.” You confirm with a nod. “Putting the material and ribbon back into the bag, you give him a hug. “Thank you, I love it.” You smile into his chest.

All Coryo can do is wrap an arm around you and caress your hair softly with his long fingers. “I have my parents' wedding rings in my bag, would you mind exchanging them before our hand binding?” He asked, hopeful that you'd say yes.

Lifting your head up, your eyes met his cerulean blue ones, as you told him, “I'd be honored to wear your mother's ring, Coryo, but you're not an officer yet; you're not allowed to wear a ring.”

“I'll wear it around my chain with my dog tags til I pass my exam.”

“Okay.”

Threading his fingers into your hair, he sadly smiles, “I have a few family photos in my bag too. Perhaps we can put them up?”

“Of course, Coryo.” You smile, assuring him that you're fine with him decorating your meager one-room apartment with his family photos.

In fact you're more than fine with it. Him wanting to display his pictures of loved ones makes him human. Not just a mindless, Capitol born and bred peacekeeper that you're stuck with, but an actual human capable of feelings.

Capable of love, despite his condescending attitude at times.

You worked all day Thursday sewing a simple dress. You weren't a professional seamstress by any means, but you've been living in 8 long enough to pick up a thing or two. You could sew good enough to get by. You could also make simple patterns for simple dresses.

The only thing that was a pain in the ass was the fact that you had to sew your dress by hand. Thank the gods that Coryo had bought you light blue thread to match the material for your dress because the only blue thread you had in your sewing kit was navy.

Also, you noticed that your red thread was almost out, that it was wrapped thinly around the bobbin. You have an idea as to why it's nearly gone. You think that Coryo used it to stitch up the deep lacerations on your back.

He did tell you last night that red's his favorite color.

You spent practically all day huddled over your kitchen table, sewing your cerulean dress by hand. Since it was winter the sleeves were long and your skirt was knee length. It was a simple design, but when the dress was done you felt proud of it. You just hope that Coryo likes it.

You had enough scrap material left over to make a hairbow with. You decided that you're going to pull your hair back with a big, blue bow for your wedding. Yes, it's just going to be a very simple District 8 handfasting and reception dinner, but you still want to look pretty.

It's only natural. Every girl wants to look pretty on their wedding day.

So, after finishing both your dress and hair bow, you cook up a couple of dishes and bake an apple pie for dessert. You finished cooking with just enough time to get dressed before the groom and the best man arrive home.

You're standing in front of the family photos that Coryo set up on the bedside table last night. You can't help, but to think that he was a cute little boy with his curls as you stare at the family picture of him, his mom, and his dad. Coryo looks just like his father, General Crassus Snow, except that his father's eyes seemed cold and stern while Coryo's eyes were more mischievous. Or at least they were in your option.

His mother, Demeter, was very pretty. In the photo of Demeter holding a baby Coryo in a rose garden, you could see that he had inherited her smile. It was the only thing he inherited from her, looks wise. And in the picture his mother was wearing the orange scarf that he had given you. The scarf that matches your sweater perfectly.

There was a picture of his Grandma’am sitting regally amongst some roses and a picture of a young blonde girl that you knew had to be his cousin, Tigris. She definitely had the prominent Snow noses, but a tender softhearted smile.

After seeing a picture of Tigris, you're shocked that she lied to Coryo about something so important. You also feel bad for Grandma'am, she seems like such a high class lady and to lose everything and end up in hospice due to not having the will to love's horrible.

And on the table, in front of all the small framed photographs, was the wedding rings that belonged to Coryo's parents. One band was a simple gold one while the other was gold with a radiant square cut diamond. The diamond wasn't too big, but it wasn't too small either. It was just right and gave off a timeless, classic style.

“Baby, we're home.” You hear Coryo call out mixed with the sound of the door opening.

Sejanus followed his best friend into the apartment, secretly dreading having to marry you and Coryo. But he couldn't help, but smile whenever his friend gasped up on seeing you in your simple blue wedding dress and matching hair bow. It was clear to him that Coryo was in love just by how his face lit up at the sight of you.

“Darling, you look so beautiful.” Your soon to be husband declared while joining you by the bedside table.

“Thank you, honey.” You responded, feeling elated that he likes your outfit.

“Honey?” He asked, a brow raised in amusement.

“It just slipped out.” You sheepishly replied.

“It's fine; I'll let it slide, Mrs. Snow.” Coryo told you, his voice a slight bit husky, as he strokes your cheek softly with his calloused thumb.

Clearing his throat, because the sexual tension was so thick it could be cut with a butter knife and was making him feel uncomfortable, Sejanus asked, “Um, Coryo, do you want to start the ceremony?”

“Yea, just stand over there and we'll join you.” The platinum peacekeeper told his comrade, pointing to the spot he wanted him in.

Sejanus just nodded and went to stand where Coriolanus wanted him to. Coryo grabbed the rings and the red ribbon off the bedside table before escorting you over to Sej, the makeshift officiant for the wedding.

“We're going to exchange rings, like in the Capitol, then you can bind our hands.” Coryo told his dark haired friend while handing him over the ribbon for the hand binding.

Of course, Coriolanus Snow had to implement some kind of Capitol tradition in a district ceremony. Sejanus wouldn't expect anything less from his friend.

“Okay.” Nodded the aspiring medic with a heart of gold. Hey, what else was he supposed to do? If Coryo wanted to exchange rings then so be it.

Coryo handed you over his father's ring, now his, and kept his mother's ring, now yours. He just smiled and held the ring to your fingertip, causing you to do the same. Silently, you both slide the rings on each other's fingers before holding hands.

“I'm from District 2 and was raised in the Capitol for the past decade, so I'm not too well versed in handfasting.” Sejanus tells you while starting to wrap the long red ribbon around you and Coryo's entwined hands.

Looking over at Sejanus, you tell him, “I'm originally from 12, so all I know about this ceremony is what I've heard.”

“They do a toasting where she's from, but we don't have a fireplace so we had to settle with the handfasting.” Coryo added in, shrugging at his friend.

“Ah.” Sejanus slowly nodded as alarm bells went off in his head. Of course you're from 12. It seems like Coryo has a type and it's basically pretty girl from District 12. Now, he can't help, but worry that his platinum blonde friend is going full steam ahead with you so quickly because of your district of origin.

“You can exchange your words now.” Sejanus prompts, knowing that words are said in a handfasting once the ribbon is wrapped around the clasped hands of the couple.

“You first, Y/N.” Coryo smiles, only to quickly add in, “Women always say their vows first in the Capitol.”

Sejanus wanted to cringe. Coriolanus just has to bring up Capitol wedding traditions, again. For marrying a district girl he's really trying to incorporate as many Capitol things as he can. Or at least Sejanus thinks so.

It bothered Sejanus more than it did you. Coryo talking about Capitol wedding traditions. You didn't mind, he was from there after all.

“Okay.” You nodded before smiling and telling your husband a quote from the tragic Pre-Panem love story he's been reading to you- Wuthering Heights.

“Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”

You're bound to him forever now, so you decided to tell him a book quote to express that.

Coryo’a grin spread wide across his face. He looked a bit manic, a result of your words. Oh, how hearing you say that your souls are the same just made his heart burst.

Yes! Yes! Yes!

You're his now and will be forever. You're not just his wife, but his most treasured possession now. Being your husband, knowing that you're at his complete mercy, makes him feel all powerful.

Sejanus can't help, but feel like you're as delusional as Coriolanus right now after hearing the Emily Bronte quote you recited. Oh, Sejanus has read the book it's from and he thinks there's nothing romantic about the main and tragic relationship. God, he hopes your relationship with Coryo isn’t marked by tragedy, obsession, and extreme codependency like the haunting relationship between Cathy and Heathcliff was.

Coryo’s icy blue eyes are looking into yours intensely as he recites the standard Capitol vows of, “I promise to love and support you, to take you under my protection; to provide for the children that I will gift upon you. I promise to love you; to spend the rest of my days with you.”

You couldn't help, but swoon at the Capitol vows. To you, they sound so romantic.

But to Sejanus they sound like honeyed words used to shackle couples that grow old together in either indifference or hate.

“Well, that's it then. Coryo, Y/N, you're now married.” Sejanus announced before quickly unwrapping the ribbon from your hands.

Once your hands are free, Coryo grabs your face gently in his large hands and presses a sweet kiss to your lips to seal the marriage bond, like they do in the Capitol.

It's official, you're Mr. And Mrs. Snow now.

After the ceremony, Sejanus ate dinner with you and your new husband. Coryo even arranged for Sejanus to take you Christmas shopping on Monday while he's occupied taking his Elite Officer's Examine, which he's positive that he'll pass. The conversation during dinner was nice. You like Sejanus and you're glad that Coryo has him as a friend. He's a nice guy, very down to earth and friendly.

After dinner, Sejanus said his goodbyes to you and Coryo and left. Traditionally, the folks of District 8 stay for hours after the handfasting ceremony, but you reckon that Sejanus left after the pie was served because he needed to head back to base. Unlike your husband, Private Plinth actually sleeps in his bunk at the barracks.

You had already put up the leftovers and you're washing the last dish whenever Coryo comes up behind you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. His nose nuzzles your neck and he presses a kiss on the sweet spot below your ear. “I’m ready to fuck you, Mrs. Snow; make you mine in every sense of the word.”

“How’re we supposed to do that, Coryo? My back needs at least a couple more weeks to fully heal.” You ask, placing the dish onto the drying rack with the others.

“Snow lands on top.” He smirks into your neck. Turning you around after you unplugged the drain, he told you, “You'll have to ride my cock til your back’s healed.”

*Oh.” You squeaked, eyes slightly wide.

“Don't be nervous, baby. I'll guide you thru it.”

“Okay.” You simply nod, since you didn't really know what else to do.

You know that you're going to have to fuck him. It's a given now that you're married. You're honestly surprised that he didn't make you ride his cock earlier, before you even got married.

“I can always take you behind, doggy style too.” Your platinum blonde husband remarked, causing you to just nod.

Yea, there was that too. But then he'd be staring at your back. Your stitched up, scarred up back, during the do.

Yea…

You're not sure how you feel about that.

Caressing your cheek in his large calloused hand, he lightly smiled. “But I think for the first few times it'd be nice to look at each other's faces. Yea?”

“Yea.” You softly agree.

He presses a kiss full of heated want on your lips only to pull away and take your hand. “Come on, let's go to bed.” Coryo tells you while leading you over to your bed.

To the point of no return.

Coriolanus stops you right in front of the bed, only to cup your cheeks in his hands and bend his head down to kiss you with every fiber of his being. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in closer while syncing your lips with his; kissing him back with as much vigor as he's shown you.

Kissing Coryo was an experience in and of itself. His kisses could be chaste and innocent, but then they could be fiery and passionate: full of need and hot blooded desire.

The kisses you're sharing right now are the latter. They're passionate and fiery, full of an unquenchable desire. Coryo's mouth literally slots over yours, noses bumping together, as his tongue slips into your mouth with such urgency. An urgency that can only be attributed to desire and need. To passion and lust.

You let out a moan at the feeling of his tongue exploring your mouth. Your own tongue finds its way into his mouth, exotically dancing with his. Coryo's fingers entangle in your hair while his other hand holds your jaw in a vice grip. Your hands are clutching at the back of his neck, trying to anchor yourself as you continue to kiss him passionately.

Coryo pulls away, leaving you both breathless and panting. He leans his forehead against yours, only to whisper, “Is this real, Mrs. Y/N Snow? The way you feel about me? It's real for me and I-I was just wondering if it's real for you too.”

The vulnerability in his cerulean blue eyes took you aback. You've never seen him like this before. You're so used to Coryo being condescending and cunning, sweet, but in a reserved way.

You've never seen him vulnerable before. And that sight makes you realize that there's more to your husband than what meets the eye. That deep down, he's just an orphan boy that wants to be loved. And you understand that wholeheartedly since you're an orphan girl that wants the same thing.

To be loved.

Unwinding a hand from his neck and softly stroking his cheek with it, you tell him, “It's real for me too, husband.” Giving him a small smile, you carry on with, “We’re all each other's got, Coryo. And I'm grateful for you.” You notice that your words are having a calming effect on him, which is good. “I wouldn't have married you if I didn't want to spend the rest of my life with you.” You assure him, bringing your other hand up to his cheek.

Honestly, you married him so that you'll have stability. So you'll be able to always have a roof over your head and food in your belly. Yes, you like him, but the marriage is so that you're not on your own struggling to get by.

Coryo's determined to take care of you; to make up for ratting you out and getting you whipped. He wants to get you out of 8; who are you to stop him?

You married him out of self preservation, but you honestly do like him. He's a very handsome man- unlike any you've ever met, and you enjoy his company. If he's delusional to think that you're in love then so be it. At least you'll be able to sleep in a warm bed with a full belly every night.

Your answer was exactly what Coriolanus needed to hear. His icy eyes light up and he kissed you once more with power and passion. A promise of things to come.

Coryo's sitting on the edge of the bed and you're straddling him. He's in nothing, but his white boxers, while you're naked. He's got a hand on your hip, balancing you, while the other's between your legs. Two of his fingers are shoved deep inside your cunt as he fucks you furiously with them. His thumb rubs quick, sloppy circles over your swollen clit, as your nails dig into his shoulders.

“You're close, baby. You're gonna cum soon.” He knowingly states, not asks, as he picks up his pace.

“Coryo…please…” You whine, feeling as if you're going to explode and see stars any minute by how hard, fast, and deep he's fingering you. Hell, you never knew that being fingered could feel like this. But yet again, his fingers are much longer than yours…

His fingers hit the spongy spot deep inside of you, over and over again, making your hips back against his as you chase your high.

“That's it, baby. That's it, ride my fingers. Good girl, just like that.” Coryo cooed praises into your ear as your head drops to his shoulder while you ride his fingers, chasing after your orgasm that you're oh so desperate to feel.

His hand on your hip helps guide you as you quickly roll your hips forward and back, riding his fingers, as little moans and mewls escape your lips. They're mostly muffled by his shoulder, since you're resting your head in it. But Coryo can still hear a few. The few noises you make that echo in the room mingle with the loud, lewd, wet squelching sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of your cunt.

Suddenly, your clawing at your husband's back and canting your hips quickly as your orgasm fastly approaches. “Coryo…I'm close.” You mutter out into his shoulder.

“Cum for me, Y/N. Be a good girl and cum right now, baby.” Coryo ordered, his voice hot and thick with lust, as he thumb pressed hard against your clit while he pounds your pussy relentlessly with his long fingers.

And you do. You cum hard around his fingers, moaning out his name like a prayer. Coryo helps guide your hips as you ride out your high on his fingers.

When your body goes slack, he pulls his hand out from between your legs. “Look, darling.” Coryo orders while spreading his fingers apart, causing your juices to create a web between them.

You feels your cheeks heat up as you look at your husband's hand, the one that had just been between your legs. You weren't aware that you let out that many juices when you came. Seeing them webbed and stringing against your husband's fingers…well…

And when your husband curled his fingers into a fist, so only his wet ones were standing upright, and smelled the two wet fingers- causing his eyes to flutter shut as he declared in a shaky exhale, “Your cunt smells so good, darling.”, You nearly died of arousal.

Oh boy, did that turn you for some ungodly reason.

And when he stuck his fingers in his mouth, sucking your juices clean off of them…oh yea…you felt yourself grow wetter. You felt your core ache for his cock.

Coryo pulls his fingers out of his mouth with a wet pop, only to help you off of him while saying, “I'm going to take off my boxers and lay down in the bed, okay?”

“Okay.” You simply nod, watching as your husband stands up and slides down his boxers.

You know he has a big cock by the large bulge that was in his boxers, but when you see his cock rise to full attention and slap up against his stomach, you can't help but to look at it in awe. It was long, at least 8 inches, and very girthy too. Damn, even his balls are big. Like everything on Coryo's big.

You guess what they say about y'all men with big hands, big feet, and big noses is true. Cause right now, you're looking at the living proof that the saying isn't a myth.

It's true. Very, very, true.

Tall men with big hands, feet, and noses are blessed with big cocks.

“Like what you see, Mrs. Snow?” Coryo asks with a cocky, lopsided grin as he closes the distance between you after kicking his boxers to the side once he stepped out of them.

“Yes, I suppose so, since it's the only cock I've ever seen.” You tell him, locking your eyes with his icy blue ones.

Taking your hand and bringing it to his cock, which has veins running along it with an angry red head that's leaking pearly drops of precum, he tells you, “You can touch me, you know.”

“Is there a certain way you like to be touched?” You wonder.

You don't know how experienced Coryo is and you really don't care. He's your husband now, so any and all experience he has is just going to make you feel good. But you lack experience. So, of course you want to know what your husband likes, it's only natural to ask.

The platinum blonde gives you a thin smile, one that's barely holding back how horny he is, and tells you, “Use your thumb to gather my precum and spread it around my cock before pumping it up and down. You can also swipe the slit on my head too.”

“Okay.” You nod before doing as you're told.

“There ya go, baby. That's it, you got it.” Coryo praised, lust blowing his pupils black, as he watched you slowly, but surely jack him off.

After a few minutes, Coriolanus’ breath began to hitch. He placed a hand on yours to stop you, all the while saying, “I think it's time I get in bed and you get on top of me.”

You just nod, watching as your husband fluffs the pillows and lays down comfortably on his back.

“Come here, baby.” He motioned with an outstretched hand.

You get into the bed and go over to him, straddling his hips. You're hovering over his hard cock, balancing yourself by resting your hands on Coryo's chest. One of his hands went to your hip while the other grabbed his cock, teasing you by rubbing his tip along your slit; bumping into your clit once or twice.

“You ready, darling?” Coryo asked, locking eyes with you.

“Yes.” You nod. After how good of a job he did warming you up, you'd be a fool not to be ready.

“Just sink down slowly; take your time til you bottom out.” He instructed, rubbing soothing and supportive circles in your hip bone.

Nodding, you listened to your husband and slowly sank down on his cock. You felt a burning sensation tearing you apart as his cockhead parted your petals and entered your virgin cunt. It wasn't painful per say, just uncomfortable. The burning sensation at the stretch his cock made to your tight walls had you biting your lip and letting out little whimpers.

“I know, baby. I know, it's a big stretch.” Coryo cooed, the corners of his mouth turned up. He took the hand that was on the base of his cock (feeling that you're doing a good enough job guiding yourself down on it that he doesn't need to hold it anymore) and cupped your cheek. “You're doing such a good job, baby.” Coryo softly ran the pad of his calloused thumb against the apple of your cheek. “Just a lil bit more and I'll be picking your cherry, my sweet girl.” Your husband assured you, his baritone honeyed and lustful.

You've heard that getting your cherry popped hurts like hell, or at least that's what the girls said at school. Hell, even your old friends Lil and Lucy Gray back on your old street in the Seam said it hurt like no other. So you're sure that it's going to be the worst pain in your life.

But your husband's assuring words, sweetly melodic but ardent, put you at ease. His simple action of soothingly stroking your cheekbone with his thumb eased your nerves; your fears as well. Who would've known that Coryo, a tall, imposing peacekeeper with a platinum buzz cut and mischievous baby blues could be so soft and gentle, so reassuring and understanding.

In that moment you, without a doubt, knew that you made the right choice in marrying Coryo. How many other young men would be patient enough with you to let you go at your own pace during your first time? Not many, or at least not the type of men that your old friends had would be patient.

You really hit the jackpot when you got with your peacekeeper. Yes, you know that the way ya'll got together wasn't ideal, but he's truly been nothing, but amazing since he brought you home badly whipped, bleeding profusely, and nearly unconscious with pain. Private Snow, soon to be Elite Officer Snow (if all goes according to plan and he passes his exams), might be a condescending asshole at times, but he's also a caring, loveable man at others. And right now he's a tenderhearted lover.

Your breath hitches as you feel Coriolanus' cockhead breach your barrier; breaking your hymen and taking your virginity. Your nails scratch at his chest and you bite your lip in reaction to the stinging sensation that you feel throbbing in your pussy.

“Are you alright, Y/N? Did I hurt you?” Your husband asks, looking up at you with genuine concern flashing in his icy eyes, as you bottom out on top of him.

“I'm not hurt, Coryo. It just stings a lil bit, that's all.” You honestly tell him, not wanting him to worry.

“You just just cockwarm me til you feel comfortable to move, okay?”

“Okay.” You nod, a tiny smile stretching your lips.

“Come ‘ere, baby.” Coryo instructs, sliding his hand down your cheek and down to your neck only to guide your face down towards his. As your lips ghosts over each other's, he commands in a husky tone, “Kiss me while you sit on my cock.”

And who are you to turn down your husband's request when his plush lips look oh so kissable. You quite enjoy kissing him. It's a sensation that you'll never grow tired of.

Your hands slide up Coryo's toned chest, only to hold onto his shoulders for leverage, as your lips meet his in a kiss. A kiss that quickly turned passionate and sloppy. Your tongues danced exotically as your body grew accustomed to his large cock stretching out your walls and filling you up all the way to your womb. A breathy moan fell from your lips as your kiss broke apart, so the two of you could catch some air.

Coryo's lips we're mere inches from yours as he asked, “Think you're ready to start moving, my darling rose?”

“Yea,” You nod, “I'm ready.”

“Remember how you rode my fingers? Just do that, alright?”

“Alright.” You parroted before slowly and experimentally rising and falling down onto your husband's cock; causing him to let out a low moan of approval.

It didn't take long for you to find a comfortable rhythm. And before long, you're riding your husband with the desperate need to cum, arms wrapped around his neck as he's sitting up, sucking on one of your nipples while squeezing and grabbing at your tits with the need of a hungry, starving madman.

“Fuck! Coryo…” You loudly moan as his teeth scrape again your pebbled nipple, sending pleasure shooting straight to your core, before he lifts his head and attaches his kiss bruised lips to your neglected nipple. As his lips start sucking your other nipples, his thumb soothingly rubs over the one that he just bit, making your cunt grow even wetter.

“Oh gods, Coryo, I'm so close again.” You choke out on a high pitched moan, feeling his cock dive deep inside of your cunt and kiss your cervix as you bounce down particularly fast on him.

Your husband lets your nipple fall from his mouth with a loud, wet pop and he stops feeling up your boobs. One of his hands grabs your ass while the other goes slightly behind him, resting on the bed to give him leverage, as he sits up a bit straighter. Bending his knees slightly so that his feet are flat on the bed, he orders you to, “Hold onto my neck and wrap your legs around my waist. I'm gonna finish us off.”

“Okay.” You smile before doing as your told.

Not a second later, Coryo's fingers are digging into your ass cheek while his hips are wildly bucking up; causing his cock to piston deep inside of you. So deep that you're seeing stars.

“Coryo…I think I'm gonna cum.” You tell him, lips hovering close to his, as you feel the knot in your lower belly about to come undone.

“I'm gonna cum right after ya, baby.” He groaned, snapping his hips even faster. “Fuck, I'm gonna fill you up with my seed; knock you up tonight, babygirl.” Coryo grunted thru clenched teeth as his cock pounded your tight pussy with wild abandon. "I swear, you're gonna look so beautiful all round with my child."

Were you ready to be a mom? Who knows, who cares. You'll deal with it when the time comes. All you know is that your husband's fucking you so good and you're about to cum on his gigantic cock any second now.

“Coryo…” You mewl while your cunt flutters around his cock. The dam of pleasure’s about to burst and all you can think about is how badly you want to kiss your husband.

So…

You unwrap one of your hands from around his neck and grab a hold of the chain around his neck. The one that his dog tags are one. The same dog tags that are bouncing back and forth between both of your chests. Using the chain, you pull him a few inches towards you until your lips meet his for a kiss. A kiss that's desperate. An open mouth kiss that's filthy and full of both tongue and spit swapping as you cum hard around his cock.

Coryo's icy eyes literally roll into the back of his head as he feels your tight cunt spasm around his cock and soak his cock and thigh as you cum. Fuck, you're a squirter and that turns him on. It turns him on so much that the next time he bucks up he's shooting his load of hot, thick ropes up cum deep up into your womb.

He continues to slowly rock his hips up and down to ride out your highs. Your lips are no longer engaged in a dirty open mouthed kiss. Instead, your foreheads are resting on each other as you just get lost gazing into each other's eyes- looking into the windows of each other's souls.

Souls that are truly so similar considering you both are orphans with a self preservation streak.

After a little while, he stops moving and lays flat down on his back. He adjusts your legs so that you can comfortably lay down on him. He even places the blanket on top of you two so that you'll be warm.

“Shouldn't I get off of you?” You ask, referring to his cock still being stuffed inside of your cunt.

“No.” Coryo shakes his head against his pillow. “Don’t worry about it, babe. My cock’ll slip out once it softens.” He assures you with a satisfied smirk while tucking a strand of sweaty hair behind your ear. “You were amazing, Mrs. Y/N Snow.”

“Thank you, Elite Officer Snow. I have an amazing husband for a teacher.” You playfully smile back, tracing patterns on his toned chest.

“Remind me to thank that amazing husband of yours for teaching you how to ride cock like a pro.” Coryo teasingly chuckled, earning him a playful smack in the arm from you.

Then, you decided to bring up a serious topic. One that was tied to some dirty talk your husband said while fucking.

Looking up at him with big, curious eyes, you seriously ask, “Coryo, do you really want kids?”

“Yes, Y/N, I really want to have kids with you.” Your husband answered, only to follow it up with a question of his own. “Don't you want them, my darling rose.”

“I never really thought about it, but one day I'd like to be a mom.”

“Babies come when they come, darling.” Your platinum peacekeeper tell you so casually that it's as.of he's telling you the weather forecast.

“I know.” You simply tell him. Then, worry crosses your features as you seriously ask, “Since they'd be born in the districts would they be eligible for the game's lottery?”

“No.” Coryo's quick to assure you with a shake of his head. His large hand comforts you by soothingly rubbing your arm up and down. “Officer’s children are born on a Capitol run base in the hospital and live on base or base approved housing. They're registered as Capitol citizens at birth; they're parents no matter their origin of birth are considered Capitol as well.”

You let out a loud, incredulous laugh, only to tell your husband, “So I fucking stood in line 7-fucking-years for the reaping when I didn't have to all because my brother refused to hand over my papers when it was time for game registration.”

“What?” Coryo asked, his voice full of confusion, as he stared at you slack jawed.

“Close your mouth, honey. You'll catch flies with it open like that.” You tease Coryo, snapping his jaw shit with your fingers. Knowing you have to tell him the truth, the very same truth you learned right after your brother died, you sighed and explained, “After my brother died we went thru everything in the house to see what we wanted to keep, sell, and give away. Hidden in the end table by his sitting chair was an old picture of my parents and my birth certificate.”

You had to pause to collect yourself. You never planned on revealing this, but it seems like gate has other plans. Coryo just looked at you with support flashing in his eyes while gently squeezing your hand. He wasn't dumb, he was putting the pieces together fairly quickly. But he wanted to hear you say what he's thinking, to make sure that it's right.

When you feel ready to continue, you tell your husband, “I discovered that I was born on PK Base D-12 to a Colonel Javanis Halvir and a Helenium Halvir.” Shaking your head, you bitterly spat out, “I even have a Capitol name too; it's actually a longer version of the name my brother grew up calling me.”

“So you're half Capitolite then or were both your parents-” Coryo began to ask only for you to abruptly cut him off with, “Half. My father was a Capitolite and my mother was from District 12; Rein was my half-brother from her first marriage, but my dad must've adopted him since he used the Halvir name.”

“Do you want me to write the Capitol about this? I know some people that could look into your family, see if perhaps you have an inheritance tied up in probate or any relatives still alive?”

“You don't have to do that, Coryo.” You softly decline. Honestly, you never considered finding your long lost family. Plus it's not like they were looking for you either.

But Coryo wanted to inquire about your family, that Halvirs. If they had money or if you had an inheritance then as your husband he's legally bound to be the recipient of it. And Lord knows how much Coriolanus Snow craves money, power, and glory. How he wants to get back to the Capitol, with you and any children you have in tow, to become the youngest president in Panem's history.

But he can't tell you that, now can he?

No…

So, instead he tells you, “Y/N, baby, you're my wife and I love you. Let me use my Capitol contacts to help you find your family.” Giving you a slight pout and a pair of big cerulean blue puppy dog eyes, he adds in the magic word of, “Please.”

How can you say no to that? You can't. So, you tell him okay.

Coriolanus is overjoyed, but he doesn't let it show. Instead his baritone is calm and collective as he tells you that it's time to go to sleep. As you yawn and settle down on his chest, visions of a newfound rich family or a large inheritance sum are dancing around in his head, much like sugarplums dance around in children's heads on Christmas Eve.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

[spritehouse]

back on my au shit with crime family!bau

hotch is the stoic head of the family who everyone is terrified of but he's actually a huge softie and spoils everyone

rossi is the intalian grandfather who knows like everyone somehow?? he has connections everywhere so no one can touch him or the rest of the team

derek and emily are hotch's right hands and do a lot of the "dirty work" because they enjoy it. they're like a german shepherd/black cat duo—fierce , intelligent, and terrifying in their own respects.

emily, a black cat, is known for her stealth and quick action, getting in and out without a sound, but people underestimate her people skills. she's gets information by getting close to her targets without them suspecting a thing.

derek, on the other hand, has a reputation of being more brutal, loud-mouthed, a little arrogant, and most importantly, charming but they underestimate his intelligence.

they're both well-rounded, invaluable hit-men who use being underestimated to their advantage, often playing on each other's reputations to make it look like the other one did the job

jj is their negotiator, the people person. she upholds public appearances, establishes alibis, pays people off, everything along those lines. people will mistake her for a softie or too emotional, unwilling to get her hands dirty, but she's just as ruthless, if not more, than the rest of the team, especially when it comes to protecting people.

penelope and spencer are the "genius twins"

penelope is the "precious, protect at all costs, sunshine kid" even though she deals with all of the behind the scenes stuff and has seen pretty much everything. and of course, she's their resident hacker

spencer is "the baby" of the family, still trying to prove himself despite doing so plenty of times over. he works behind the scenes a lot, but he's also a great communicator/peacekeeper with jj and he's adept at distractions, close up magic, and pickpocketing

[tobiasdrake]

We've had a hell of a day and I want to go home. And pour one out for a dear friend.

His death is a heavy weight on all of our hearts. He will be sorely missed. By us. By the Master Detectives. By every booze retailer in town. Truly, Kanai Ward is lesser without him.

That doesn't sound like good guy talk. We've succeeded in bringing an end to the internal strife plaguing Amaterasu, and helped Makoto to consolidate his power into an unapproachable citadel of control.

...let's hope for the best! d(^_^d)

EVERYBODY DIED MAKOTO.

Our boss DIED.

The scientist we were supposed to question DIED.

Vivia LIVED and he's mad about it.

I'm glad you're happy but this was a complete shitshow on my end. Even if you wind up being a well-meaning saint I still kind of hate you for manipulating us into this.

Yomi manipulated Yakou into killing Huesca. Makoto manipulated Yuma into distracting Yomi. The entire Nocturnal Agency was the ball in a game of power between these two rich dipshits today.

I'm mad about it and I want to hit something, but I'm powerless in the face of the corporate machinations that have taken place here. All I can do is go home, cry about it, and pour my grief into a big pot of my arsenic and battery acid stew. T_T It was Chief's favorite.

Maybe YOUR FACE is just a rumor.

...

That comeback hits so much differently when delivered to a man never seen without a mask. At this time, Makoto's face is, in fact, a rumor. There exists no evidence of it being real.

So what I'm hearing is "Anywhere but the Restricted Area." Not the Restricted Area, where we're at now, but the Restricted Area Restricted Area. The one nobody ever goes to, not even Peacekeepers, but there are allegedly shipments of corpses being trucked in.

Where we will most likely find the secret secret lab, instead of this classified secret lab.

Of course, even trying to go there at all is fucking reckless. I don't know how we're going to sell that to Yak--

...

...

T_T

Makoto, that looks like a ring box. So help me, if the next words out of your mouth are "You can give this to Kurumi when you propose" then I'm going straight to prison in the cell next to Yomi.

Yomi: The hell are you in for? Yuma: Punched Makoto square in the dick.

I hope it's a bomb.

I mean. I do not. Hope it's a bomb. For obvious reasons. Because I do not want to open a bomb present.

But if it is a bomb, then at least we'll be able to brush away the ambiguity and know exactly where to stand on the Makoto subject. I would rather know that he's the enemy than continue to have to wonder.

Halara, Yakou's been stone dead for at least ten minutes. You can stop with the chest compressions. There isn't a medical technician in this world that can bring him back from what I-- uh, the deadly assassin Fink did to him.

In seriousness, I talk a lot about how much of a poser Halara is. That they are not an emotionless stoic mercenary but try very hard to give off the image of an emotionless stoic mercenary. The traumatized desperation visible in Halara's unceasing attempts to resuscitate a body that has to be cold by now speaks volumes to the character buried beneath their façade.

We'll go home and pour one out for him.

...does anyone else drink alcohol in this group? We may wind up pouring a lot out for him.

It's okay. We got to say our goodbyes. Don't ask what that means.

BESTIE NO. There's a very important moment of frozen time in recent events! If you make me have to do the Mystery Labyrinth and kill Yakou all over again, then so help me I will give you passive-aggressive silence for at least three days.

...

Come to think of it, Fubuki would be a perfect lifehack answer to the whole "Mystery Labyrinth reaps the soul of the victim" conundrum. We use the Labyrinth, find the deeply held secrets, and then grab her hand and skip back a few seconds over that frozen moment. Bob's your uncle, we know everything and no one had to die for it.

Fubuki can fix the central moral conundrum baked into the premise.

No, he's been through a lot. We spent hours undergoing an important emotional and philosophical journey five minutes ago. He's exhausted. I can't blame him.

This is, once again, the recurring theme. The Mystery Labyrinth reveals tons of information but doesn't help. Whoop-de-dee, we learned about Yomi's corruption in the most secret hidden truth the Labyrinth held. Didn't matter. Makoto already got that information another way and confronted Yomi without our involvement.

The effect is mitigated only because Yakou was already dying. But otherwise it'd be another reaping of a soul for no goddamn reason whatsoever. In chapters 1 and 2, we reaped souls that didn't deserve it. In 3 and 4, the killings we committed contributed nothing of value whatsoever to the predicaments we were in.

Going into the Mystery Labyrinth never does anything good. How could it? It's a murder weapon. That's all it can be. I've been saying non-stop about the Peacekeepers that they are an institution of violence that exists for the sole purpose of violence and cannot be anything but violence. The same is true of the Mystery Labyrinth.

It only exists to kill.

Oh good, Kurumi's here to offer half-informed advice about how it's super-virtuous that Yuma's killing people like this.

Okay Kurumi, I'm not gonna be too hostile 'cause I like you now. Let's hear what you've got.

Oh, no, that has nothing to do with us. Don't even try to blame yourself for that.

In fact, it's the biggest irony of the case. After all that fuss we made, running out the door and trusting that his lanky bones won't keep up with us, it barely even mattered. Yakou's plan for tonight's entertainment was to round everyone up and take them to the same place I snuck out to visit anyway.

In fact, if we hadn't roped Makoto into our shenanigans, everything would have played out the way Yomi planned it, and it would have ended with all of us being shot Halara putting a few more dead cops on my tab.

If you think about it that way, your questionable plan to go ask Makoto to his face if he's doing shady shit was the curve ball that saved the day, Kurumi. You should take a victory lap. You gambled it all on black and came away with a big score.

In a roundabout butterfly-effect chain-reaction sort of way, Kurumi Wendy took down Yomi Hellsmile. Don't fuck with high school girls, man. They're feral.

Do YOU have the answer to Photo Lady's identity!?

Kurumi, you are this close to getting Best Informant in Kanai Ward validation from me. That's not an accomplishment. You're the only informant in Kanai Ward. But still.

BOOM, Photo Lady. Figured it was something like that.

Unfortunately, Huesca was conspiring with Yomi, the head of the Peacekeepers. So. Obviously. The Peacekeepers weren't going to arrest Huesca over it, were they?

No, when you're in a pincer trap like that, there's only one outcome. She fell off a balcony onto some bullets. Accidental death.

Yakou is no different from the Theater Girls in chapter 2. Someone close to him was murdered in a city where justice is a farce. Abusers thrive and victims get fucked. Even murder's just part of the game that unchecked capitalism is playing on its people. What other recourse did he possibly have?

When murder gets rewarded and cries for justice are brutally punished, the only option left to you is to become a murderer.

It explains a lot about his behavior since we got here. Ever since the WDO burdened him with this huge investigation, Yakou's position has effectively been, "Guys, I'm begging you, PLEASE don't get me killed before I do."

I'm not onboard with the overarching message of "Conviction is more important than being right or wrong," which keeps getting brought up. I think a lot of people have done terrible things with absolute conviction in what they were doing. It's good to doubt yourself and question if you're making the right choices.

But as a character beat, I respect this for Yakou. I honestly think, like the Theater Girls, Yakou did nothing wrong. But I can believe that Yakou believed that what he was doing was immoral. That on some level, a part of him was like, "Dude, we're really going to go full murder-suicide?"

But he chose to follow his feelings and do what his gut wanted him to do, even if it's "bad". He was true to himself, to the very end. That's why he was able to face Shinigami's oblivion with a smile on his face.

In a roundabout way, I think Yakou came close to my own philosophy of morality. He just phrased it differently.