#old game mags
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mugenfinder · 11 months ago
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EGM2 #7 (January, 1995) "Mommy, what are those two SEGA machines doing?"
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vesteneris · 5 months ago
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some of my favourite hunger games pages from my sketchbook, mostly from 2023 and also Annie Cresta centred, bc I was doing a comic about her at the time
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enobariasdistrict2 · 10 months ago
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katniss literally calls the career districts the capitol's lapdogs (this is mostly her aggravation towards the tributes who are obnoxious and her most dangerous/direct opponents, so it was easier to hate them because they were easier/closer targets and hating the capitol openly the way gale does is a death sentence, but that's not important rn) and yet: district four was openly in rebellion after her games. so was district one. literally every district, even d1 and d4, the supposed "lapdogs" according to katniss, declared war against the capitol in mockingjay and were openly anti-capitol in their actions. so even if the career districts are in fact the capitol's favorites, d1 and d4 clearly were not content with snow's regime.
the only true career district that stayed loyal, despite the fact that their children die too as much as those from any other district? district two. district one and four apparently (at least, from katniss's pov) receive the same benefits as d2, yet they were bold enough to rise up against the capitol regardless. so what's the difference?
it most probably has to do with sejanus and the lessons snow took from that tragic death. snow has personal experience with district two people, he watched a boy from d2 adhere to his principles, openly defy the games, and reject the wealth and opportunity he had been given despite his animal-adjacent District status (snow's words) that snow believed he should be grateful for. he watched that d2 boy hate what the capitol does so much that he was willing to rebel, and that boy got hung for it, at snow's discretion. then snow profited off of that boy's family's grief by deceiving and manipulating them.
the point is, he knows from personal experience the dangers that d2 people and their convictions possess that harms snow's philosophy of power. he literally saw it happen. yes, d1 and d4 get preferential treatment as well (d1 supplies the cosmetics/luxury and also it as well as d2 literally surround the capitol according to a map i saw online, so they pose the most threat). but they still rebelled anyways six decades later. d2 stayed loyal to snow because whatever his strategy was between the 10th games and the 74th, whatever he gave to d2, clearly it worked out so well that instead of moral and kind and justice-driven people like sejanus, d2 gave panem bloodthirsty murderous children like cato and clove.
even the original career tributes (coral, mizzen, tanner) weren't nearly so crazed and violent and enthusiastic about their violence as the d2 tributes, and d2 had little to no advantage in the earlier hunger games which means that career tribute culture that we see in the 74th and 75th games obviously hadn't developed yet. so the fact that d2, and its children, grew so powerful during the next six decades can almost directly be traced to snow's desire to prevent a man like sejanus from ever returning to d2.
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hopetorun · 3 months ago
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another day of sitting at my computer thinking idly about how much i miss the nhl vault
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barbreypilled · 2 years ago
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🚨PISSPOST WARNING🚨 anyway ok so I’ve been thinking about the trailer again then I saw these tweets
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AND IM TAKING IT AS EXPLICIT PERMISSION TO LEAN INTO PISS ERA BEING EARLY/MID-2000s AND I WILL ABSOLUTELY BE WORKING THAT IN SO BLEASE BEAR WITH ME but also I’m so excited bc now I can go full throttle messy ass tmz/tabloid/exploitation journalism hellscape into Annie’s public breakdown lmaaaoooo can’t wait for my little bestie to suffer clap if she should suffer
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violet-dragongirl · 10 months ago
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Yep I need to take a break, eat, drink, maybe get tipsy, watch some Lupin III Series 5 and chill for second
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ketchuppee · 1 year ago
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Another thing I really liked about TBOSBAS is it shows how short history can be. Like in the original trilogy, we know that the games have been happening for 74 years, but by going back to the 10th games, and getting flashbacks from the war, we see that it really has only been a few generations. And (some of) those people are still around in THG. Mags won the 11th games, literally months after TBOSBAS. obviously Snow is still around, and Tigris, but there’s countless others too that turn the whole “this is how things are and always have been” ideology on its head. The inception of the games is actual living memory for people when Katniss volunteered at the reaping.
It’s the difference between looking at black and white photographs of Ruby Bridges attending school in a history book and seeing an interview of her now at 69 years old.
History does not exist separate from the present, and we’re not as far from it as we think.
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daydreamer-in-reverie · 5 months ago
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Started rereading the Hunger Games series and I feel like it’s so overlooked how in 74th and 75th Hunger Games, we don’t know every Tribute’s names, with Katniss only referring to them by their District numbers but in TBOSAS, we knew every single Tribute by name. We associated them with the clothes they wore on the Reaping Day and Suzanne even goes so far as to describe how they looked, however briefly. We see these Tributes and we’re familiarized with them by the little tidbits provided to the mentors and to Snow and Lucy Gray. But we never get this in the original trilogy.
In two generations, President Snow alienated the Districts from each other so much that Katniss didn’t even care to know all the names of the Tributes sent into the Arena with her, with the exception being those who posed great risk against her safety and those she felt great compassion for (e.g. Cato, Thresh, Rue, Mags, Betee, Wiress etc.). Katniss even went so far as to call the D6 Tributes in the 75th Hunger Games morphlings, for their affinity to imbibe in the drugs that help them forget their own traumas (an incredibly hurtful description, in my own opinion, to be known by the qualities you hate the most about yourself). We never know the real name of the 74th D5 girl, with Katniss only referring to her as Foxface and we don’t even know Marvel’s name until we get to the second book and he was Katniss’ first personal kill. Katniss even kills the D4 girl in the books with the same tracker jacker venom that killed Glimmer and yet still, we don’t know her name. We are so removed from the identity of the other Tributes that we don’t even know what some of them looked like beyond brief descriptions of mangled bodies and dead Tributes in the bloodbath at the Cornucopia.
And, the thing is, Suzanne established the importance of names in the series. Even in real life, we recognize the importance of being named. It is a fundamental aspect of being human. If you’re ever in a perilous situation where a person might be placing your life in danger, we’re told to remind the person that you’re human. “Keep saying your name, how old you are, where you came from. Remind them you are a human being just like them.” Before any propaganda can work against a group of people, refusing to recognize a person’s name is the first step to dehumanization. And just like the people of the Districts, we don’t care enough about the other Tributes to even want to know their names. Their propaganda worked on us, the readers.
In two generations, President Snow completely wiped out any sense of familiarity and camaraderie the Districts may have shared with the other. In two generations, Snow sowed the seeds of distrust and division into the Districts so deeply that even we, the readers, were affected by the effects of Capitol propaganda. In two generations, the Districts ceased to genuinely care about the others beyond the vague sense of injustice they feel for their shared plight. It’s why Career Districts don’t seem to care about killing the other Tributes. How can you care, to show your compassion and humanity, when you can barely see them as people? Yes, they may have been in the Arena with you. Yes, they may have been starved and beaten and forced into labor like you were. Yes, they might be children just like you. Yes, they might be subjected to the same deplorable system that turned you into virtual slaves. But they are not your friends. They are not your allies. They are strange, with different customs and traditions that you have. You do not share the same values. They do not care about you. At the first chance they get, they will kill you with your bare hands and they will do it with alacrity if it meant their survival. There can only be one Victor and it can’t be them. It has to be you.
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silverduckie · 2 years ago
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Okay, I'm sorry. I usually don't reblog my own posts with commentary people made in my tags BUT this commentary frankly is too good to stay in the tags, I've gotta highlight it. This is the best note to date I've gotten on any of the Finnick sets and @scorpionyx9621 is right. Thanks for putting this in my tags! 💕
#District 4 always makes me feel things #Yes its a career district but when Mags won the 11th hunger games they weren't even really a thing at that point #District 4 probably had so many victors because of Mags #And Mags did NOT take kindly to having to be a mentor for 64 years. #Remember the district 4 boy in the 74th hunger games? HE WAS FUCKING TWELVE #Mags and Finnick and Annie had to watch as a TWELVE YEAR OLD had to get reaped and die# Not even counting how many children Finnick had to mentor let alone HOW MANY MAGS had to #When you look at the first gif look closely as Finnick embraces Mags. #Mags is pointing at the camera telling Finnick not to show his emotions to the capital #Completely disregarding the fact that Mags volunteered for Annie so Finnick wouldn't have to go into the games with his soulmate #Mags was like a mother to Finnick #And Finnick was only fourteen when he won his games and immediately after Snow forced Finnick to prostitute himself out #AND FINNICK WAS FOURTEEN
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Finnick Odair in Catching Fire
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enobariasdistrict2 · 11 months ago
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why did everyone deadass act like gloss and cashmere going into the 75th games together was normal. they are brother and sister. if i was kat i would be thinking "what the fuck are they going to do if they're the only two left/if they have to watch the other die." literally any character in the games should have been thinking that. even the capitol didn't seem to acknowledge that fact (despite how upset they were over peeta's fake kid). and the siblings themselves acted like this was just a normal hunger games and they were a normal career alliance like ?????
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phoward89 · 10 months ago
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Banner by me. Dividers by @saradika
Summary: You're the winner of the First Quarter Quell and you awaken in the hospital to Head Gamemaker Coriolanus Snow at your bedside.
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader (Y/N)
Warnings: Coriolanus Snow is his own warning! Possessive!Coriolanus, Obsessive!Coriolanus, DelusionalCoriolanus, Dark!Coriolanus, Soft Dark!Coriolanus?, Head Gamemaker!Coriolanus, Mentions of death, Mentions of planning murder, Mentions of cheating/infidelity (not on reader), Mentions of poison, Large age gap/difference (Coriolanus is 33 while reader is 18), Manipulation, um...trying to think of anything else.
Story Masterlist
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Chapter 1:
When the Head Gamemaker’s baritone blared out overhead, naming you the victor of the First Quarter Quell, you literally collapsed into a heap on the blood soaked ground from a mix of exhaustion and happiness. Your eyelids drooped and the last thing you saw before you passed out was a pair of peacekeepers coming towards you.
When you woke up, you were in a sterile white room. A hospital room. You had drips and IVs connected to you along with some monitor that made beeping noises. Blinking to readjust your eyes to the brightness of the artificial light, you surveyed the room only to notice that sitting in a chair right next to your bed was none other then the head gamemaker himself. Coriolanus Snow.
“What are you doing here, Head Gamemaker Snow?” You curiously asked. Surely he had better things to do then be at your bedside. Like being home with his wife. Oh and you knew he was married because 1.) He was wearing a gold band on his ring finger and 2.) You've seen a dirty blonde woman his age on his arm in a few pictures of Victor's balls and such in the cheap Capitol rag mags that get circulated around District 12 to be used as tp by the poor and destitute. 
Staring you down with his icy blue eyes, he said, “I'm making sure that District 12’s first victor in 15 years survives.”
His words made a shiver run up your spine. It was common knowledge that District 12’s first and only victor (until now) had mysteriously vanished into thin air a few months after winning her games and returning home. Nobody dared talk about her. Her name was lost to the wind; she was a ghost that nobody paid any mind too. The fact that the head gamemaker wanted to make sure that you didn't die unnerved you. 
Surely you weren't in that bad of shape, were you? Swallowing a lump in your dry throat, you croaked out, “How bad of shape am I in, Head Gamemaker Snow?”
“Please, darling, call me Coriolanus or Coryo, if you'd like.” The platinum blonde, who looked a bit sleep deprived in his wrinkled button up (as if he'd slept in it) told you. “I insist.” He smiled. 
Him calling you darling and insisting that you call him Coriolanus or Coryo made your insides churn. It wasn't right. Why would he be so informal with you. He was the head gamemaker, a 33-year-old man from the Capitol, and you were just a victor, an 18-year-old girl from District 12. You two shouldn't be informal with each other.
“Oh, where are my manners? You must be thirsty. Let me get you some water.” Corio- no Head Gamemaker Snow lightly chastised himself while rising from his chair.
Crossing the room to a counter where a tray with a pitcher and glass were, he explained, “When the peacekeepers pulled you out of the arena you had collapsed from dehydration.” Pouring you a glass of water, he further explained, “Your vitals were very low and, in fact, you died once on your way here, but the medics brought you back.”
“What the hell? I died?...” You gasped, struggling to comprehend what you just heard. 
Head Gamemaker Snow appeared by your side and placed the water glass into your hand. A hand much smaller and weaker than his large calloused one. “Yea, but you were revived.” Sitting on the edge of your bed, causing it to dip, he motioned for you to drink. “I must have my Victor alive and well, so that's why I've been keeping watch over you, Y/N.”
His words should've made you see a red flag waving in the air, but it didn't. Maybe you were too young and naive to catch onto the true meaning of his words. Maybe they went right over your head because you were still weak, or maybe since you had a stalker back in 12 that you had convinced yourself was just a weird neighbor boy you didn't realize the true possessive meaning of Coriolanus’ words.
“Are you going to stay here now that I'm awake or?...”
“Unfortunately, I have to leave you here and go home.” He pouted. What the hell, he actually pouted? You had to admit that his plush lips looked very kissable when he pouted. Petting your hair, he gave you a reassuring smile. “Don't worry, darling, I've made sure that you'll be well taken care of by the best nurses that money can buy in the Capitol.”
What he didn't tell you was that he threatened the lives of the nursing staff’s loved ones if you so much as had a hair out of place. That was something you didn't need to know. Just like you didn't need to know that when he first laid eyes on you, in your best cotton floral dress; your hair pulled back with a ribbon for Reaping Day, he found you the most beautiful creature he'd ever laid eyes on and just had to claim you as his. Reason why, as the head gamemaker, he might or might not have screwed around with other tributes’ sponsor gifts and made sure you got a few things here and there that would ensure your survival. You had an innocence to you that he had the primal urge to consume. An innocence that was absent in the Capitol. An innocence and a beauty that he carved to have all to himself.
You just being you consumed him with a passionate obsession. One that he would act on soon. Very, very soon. He just needed to take care of his wife, Livia, so that he'd be free to make you his forever. But that wouldn't be hard, considering he was a master at making people drop dead from sudden food poisoning. 
Pressing a kiss to your hair, Corio- no Head Gamemaker Snow, promised, “I'll be back in the morning to check up on you before I'm needed at the Citadel.”
“You have to wrap up the game stuff don't you, Head Gamemaker Snow?” You asked, even though you were sure he'd say yes. In fact you didn't even know why you asked that. Maybe as a replacement for goodbye since you hated that word. 
Last time you said goodbye to somebody it was your mother and she took off with some officer, leaving you with your older half-brother Rein to take care of you both. He was 15 at the time and you were 5. Safe to say, you never used the word goodbye again in your life. 
“I told you, call me Coriolanus or Coryo.” He reminded you, not liking that you were still calling him by his title. “Yes, my darling rose, I must make sure that all the paperwork is in proper order for your prize money and the construction of your house in Victor's Village.” The platinum blonde man, who you just noticed has bags under his eyes, tiredly told you before pressing another kiss to your hair. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he said, “You need to be a good girl and rest for me.”
You blinked at him. What? Be a good girl? And rest for him? Say what? Your brain was short circuiting at his words. Not just his words, but the way his baritone was both dominant and soft as he spoke them.
Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he simply said, “We'll talk more tomorrow. I promise.”
“Okay.” You nodded numbly, unable to comprehend what the hell was happening. You went like your head was spinning, as if you had too much moonshine. Hell, what had your time in the arena done to you?
Coriolanus gave you a pleased smile before rising from his spot on your bed and walking out of your room; making sure to close the door behind him. It was only after he was gone that you realized you were in a private room.
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Coriolanus was fucking exhausted when he got home. He could barely keep his eyes open as he stepped out of his black sedan. After you were admitted to the hospital, he dismissed his driver and drove himself there. He didn't want the man to be waiting around on him while he stayed steadfast at your bedside, plus he was more than capable of driving himself home once he saw you open your beautiful eyes. What he wasn't expecting was for you to be asleep for over 24-hours. 
So, sleep deprived, Coriolanus walked into the townhouse he shared with his wife, Livia. The townhouse was a gift he received from Strabo and Ma Plinth once he announced his engagement, but he planned on putting it up on the market once he took care of Livia. He didn't want to bring you to this house that held nothing but hatred and misery in it.
No, he was going to bring you to his penthouse on the Corso. Now that's a proper place for you to live with him. In fact, he'd be telling you about your new residence tomorrow morning during your visit. Oh, he was so excited to tell you that you'd be staying in the Capitol with him. Of course, he'd use the excuse that since District 12 doesn't have a Victor’s Village and it must be constructed that he's arranged for you to use his Corso penthouse during the construction period.
It was a great plan. One that was foolproof. He just knew that you, being so young and innocent, would view his offer as one of help instead of one of ownership. Or, dare he say, love? Yes, love. He was sure that he was obsessively in love with you. It was a feeling he swore to never feel again, but yet again one just can't help who they fall in love with.
He always thought that marrying for hate instead of love or even tolerability would give him power, but truthfully all it gave him was a headache and a bad case of blueballs. Livia was a heinous bitch and was a cold fish in bed. She didn't like to fuck. What the fuck? Who doesn't like to fuck? Coriolanus thought that was absurd, unnatural even.
That's why he had to have affairs here and there; then turn the whores into avoxes to keep their mouths shut when he was done with them. What? He was a man after all and had needs. Needs that he knew you'd fulfill without any problems. With you he'd be faithful because you'd be his mind, body, and soul and would do anything for his love since you were so young. All he had to do was show you how in love *cough* obsessed *cough* he was with you and you'd be his forever.
Unknown to Coriolanus, the object of his marital hatred (Livia) was having an ongoing affair with one of the male avoxes in their household. An avox that had once been an equal of theirs in the Academy and the University, but crossed Snow the wrong way with a question about the songbird from 12. 
Coriolanus wasn't even to the stairs yet when he heard Livia’s screeching coming from the front sitting room. Great…seems like the bitch was waiting up for him. 
“Coriolanus, where have you been? The games ended and you never came home!” Livia demanded in a high pitch scream as her fuzzy heeled skippers clicked loudly against the hardwood floor as she ran out of the sitting room and into the main hall.
“Don't worry about where I was, Livia.” Coriolanus venomously gritted out as he made his way to the staircase.
“You're my husband, Coriolanus. I'm supposed to worry about where you've been.” Livia shrieked while following her husband. 
“I'm your husband when I don't come home, but when I'm home we have separate bedrooms and you come up with every excuse under the sun not to fuck me.” Coriolanus spat back as he tiredly trudged upstairs, feeling a migraine coming on from his wife's nagging. Oh, how he needed to poison that bitch yesterday.
“Your tastes in bed are not the same as mine, husband.” Livia said, placing special emphasis on the word husband, while following him upstairs. “You're too harsh for my taste, but that doesn't mean you can stay out for days on end with some whore.” 
All Coriolanus could see was red, like a raging bull, after hearing her remark. How dare she insult his prowess in bed? He knew how to fuck a woman and how to fuck her good; he never had any complaints either until he tied the knot with Livia. Damn bitch, won't fuck him and then insults his ability to fuck. Oh, yes, it was time for her to go. 
She outlived her usefulness. Livia couldn't give him the one thing he most desperately needed. An heir. What use did Coriolanus have for a woman that refuses to have his child? After a decade of hell with his wife, he was ready to cut his losses. He had control of her family's bank and the Plinths fortune, plus his status as Head Gamemaker and Senator along with his position on the War Council was more then enough to make him a successful candidate for president once the elder President Ravenstill kicked the bucket. He didn't need her for an heir anymore, not when he had you (you were young and fertile enough to give him litters of heirs).
Oh, Coriolanus knew exactly how to make up for never coming home after the games ended with Livia. Oh, yes, he did. 
“The victor, Y/N, from 12 was in bad shape and I had extra paperwork to do.” He smoothly lied to his dirty blonde wife as he set foot onto the second floor of his townhouse. Turning to look at her, he gave her a fake smile full of fake sympathy and offered, “How about I take you out to your favorite restaurant for dinner? The one that has that red wine you can't get enough of.”
“Yes, I accept your apology and dinner invitation. Just don't do this to me again, Coriolanus. We might hate each other, but I'm still your wife and deserve respect.” Livia told Coriolanus before taking off to her room, her robe billowing behind her.
Coriolanus smiled wickedly as he retired to his room. Oh, after tomorrow night he'd never have to deal with Livia ever again. He'd be free to have you all to himself, forever and always.
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You were walking in the plains, tall prairie grass blowing in the wind. The deeper you walked in it, the more dread you felt. You couldn't describe the feeling, but you just knew that something was wrong. Then, suddenly, you heard a crunching sound behind you. Turning around, you saw the last tribute, a girl from 2, with a knife in her hand running towards you. 
You were exhausted and thirsty. The water you had been gifted from a sponsor had run out nearly a day ago, so you were feeling the effects of dehydration. You didn't know if you either didn't have a lot of sponsors or weren't getting any more water bottles because a water source was nearby somewhere, but you did know that it sucked you were dying of thirst.
But your thirst didn't matter now. Surviving the girl from District 2 did and you knew you wouldn't be able to fight her in the tall grasses. So you ran. You ran as hard and fast as your lightheaded feet would carry you.
It didn't take long until you were out of the tall grasses and on a barren field of cracked soil. You had a small pocket knife that was gifted to you, something you were sure cost a hefty penny since sponsor weapons were always pricey according to Lucky Flickerman’s game commentary.
Flipping the switchblade open, you turned around and headed straight towards the girl that had tripped and fell at the edge of the plains grasses and the dry bed of field soil. Lifting up your knife, you made to plunge it into her, only for her to look up at you with a sinister smirk and plunge her knife right into your neck.
Your eyes flew open as you screamed bloody murder. You died! You had died in your nightmare instead of being victorious. That nightmare shook you to your core. It frightened you so much that you screamed yourself hoarse, until your vocal cords were stripped. You were so frightened that you huddled in the corner of your room in a fetal position.
Nurses and other hospital staff tried to tend to you; get you out of the corner, but you just struggled and fought with them. You couldn't let them near you. What if they wanted to kill you? What if they hurt you? Your dream had shaken you up so bad that you weren't quite with it yet. You weren't in reality, you were stuck in your own head and afraid that somebody or something was going to get you. You were scared out of your wits. You were so scared that you cried. You weren't aware that you were crying, but the tear stains marred your hollowed cheeks like scars.
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Coriolanus had only been asleep for an hour or so whenever he was awakened by a call from Capitol General Hospital. What the charge nurse told him made his heart clutch painfully. His victor, his darling rose, woke up terrified out of her mind and curled herself into a corner, screaming and crying her head off.
“She's having a nightmare about her time in the arena. Aren't you giving her anything to calm her down?” Coriolanus asked the nurse  he was on the phone with as he sat up in bed, flipping on his bedside lamp to softly illuminate his pitch black room in a golden glow of light.
“She won't let anyone near her and you did say to call you with any updates on her condition, sir “ The nurse hesitantly told him.
“I’ll be right there to sign her out since your hospital staff are incompetent and can't properly take care of a victor.” He told the nurse before hanging up on her.
It only took a few minutes for Coriolanus to dress and rush to the hospital. Despite being exhausted, you needed him and he wasn't going to let you down. You were his and he was going to take good care of you. He always took good care of his things. He did like his things to be perfect and if they weren't then he'd make sure that his favorite things were mended until they were perfect. You were his and he'd make sure that he made you perfect once more. Perfect for him, to be by his side as not just his Victor, but as his First Lady. His darling rose.
Dressed simply in a fitted white shirt and black pants, Coriolanus ran up the stairs to your floor and rushed into your room. The site of you curled up, tear tracks staining your cheeks, wide-eyed and afraid pulled at what little heartstrings were in his too small blackened heart. You looked like a wounded animal and he hates it. You were his victor, his darling rose, his future First Lady and he wanted you to recover your senses so that you could regain your strength; be all that he knew you were to him.
He slowly approached you with his hands out in a show of peace. “It's me, my darling rose. It's Coryo.” Coriolanus softy told you in an attempt to let him near you.
Your eyes blinked at hearing his nickname and for some reason you nodded at him. As he crouched down next to you, placing a tentative hand on your shoulder, you clutched the middle of his pristine white shit and sobbed, “I died, Coryo. I dreamed that I died instead of her.”
Your words gutted him. A world without you was no world at all. Wrapping his arms around you: letting you bury your head in his chest, he strokes your hair while offering you the comforting words of, “Oh, my darling, you're alive. You're alive and I won't let anything bad ever happen to you again, Y/N.” You shook in his arms, causing him to simply ask, “You hear me, my darling rose?”
“Mhm…” You mumbled out, too afraid to talk for fear that you'd start crying again. 
“Shh…” Coriolanus shushed you like one would do a small, frightened child. “I'm here. Your Coryo’s here and you're safe. You'll always be safe with me, darling.”
If you were of sound mind instead of scared out of it (from the horrors he designed and put into the damn games) you would've ran far far away from Coriolanus. But, sadly, you were too scared and on the verge of a mental breakdown to understand how twisted the man holding you really was. How obsessessive he was; how wrong letting him hold you was. No, you were too afraid to realize that you were letting the creator of your nightmares comfort you.
Once your sobs subsided and you quieted down, Coriolanus pulled back from you so that he could tilt your chin up in order to have your eyes on his. “I was going to wait til morning to tell you this, but you’ll be staying in a luxurious penthouse while the Victor’s Village is constructed in your district.”
You nodded, only to squeakily ask, “How long am I staying here?”
“Oh, just long enough to build your victor's house. I suppose it'll be done by time your victory tour rolls around; maybe even sooner.” He smoothly lied. He had no intentions whatsoever to let you go back to District 12. You deserved more then the mud and poverty stained streets of the coal district. You deserved to be bathed in rose scented oils and salts, dressed in the finest fashions, fed the best foods, and fucked on the best silk sheets that his money could buy. 
“Okay.” You nodded, naively believing the lies of the head gamemaker. 
“How about we get you out of here and over to the penthouse? Hmm? I'll even call Tigris to come over and spend the day with you, how'd you like that?”
“I like Tigris. She’s nice and was my stylist. Always talked to me like she cared.”
Coriolanus knew that his cousin was your stylist. He's the one that assigned her to you after all. But neither you nor her needed to know that. No…. It wasn't important. What was important was that you two got along, especially since in a short while you'll be family.
“Tigris is my cousin; I'm glad to hear that you like her.” Coriolanus told you while helping you to stand up. “And she does care about you, Y/N.” He told you while leading you over to your bed. “Never forget that the Snows care about you. And that snow lands on top.” He whispered into your ear while helping you sit on your bed. 
You just blinked at him, trying to process what he meant. You were so tired and mentally weak from your nightmare that you had no idea that his remark was one of possession. Your throat hurts from all the crying and screaming that you did, so you weren't thinking straight. Infact, your throat hurts so much that you grab the glass of water from your bedside table, quickly gulping it down.
“Be careful, you don't want to make yourself sick.” Coriolanus warned, much like a parent would to a child, while snatching the glass away from you.
“My throat’s dry and hurts. I need water.” You said in a pained whisper, side eying the glass in Coriolanus’ hand.
“Yes, well, that tends to happen when you scream and cry yourself hoarse.” He stated a bit coldly before lifting the glass to your lips and ordering, “Be a good girl and take small sips for me.”
You obeyed since your throat was aching. The small sips of the cool water seemed to soothe your damaged throat just enough to keep your mind off the pain. When Coriolanus felt you had enough to drink, he put the glass down on your side table. 
Petting your hair, he said, “I need to go sign you out at the front desk, but I'll be back soon to take you with me to the penthouse. Where you'll be safe.”
“Thank you.” You weakly smiled at the man that was now both your salvation and your damnation.
If only you knew what life awaited for you at that penthouse. Would you still be thanking him if you did?
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Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen, @poppyflower-22, @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops,
@bxtchopolis, @readingthingsonhere,
@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur
@squidscottjeans
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rueclfer · 3 months ago
Text
neopet graveyard // shigaraki tomura
when you two always end up working the night shift together.
a/n: all together now! "finaaallllyyyyy" we collectively say. i love shiggy sm this fucking loser is the loml. <3
my smau warm up for this fic here too
@bbluefllame hehe
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12:37 AM the buzzing analog clock sitting on the counter glared back at you. Long and slow shifts like tonight's were agonizing to get through. You may have been getting paid to sit around and flip through dusty catalogs and sort through old video game discs, but you often wondered if you'd rather be at home broke and asleep right now.
"Hey Shigs," You call out, breaking his attention away from his phone. "Tits or ass?" You hold up the vintage Playboy magazine up to his direction from across the store.
"You have neither." He replies, leaning forward and slightly squinting in your direction. "I can't see that far. What are you showing me?"
"It's a fucking porn mag, you dick." You call out, throwing a pen in his direction, letting it bounce off the glass counter beside him and landing among the cardboard boxes behind the register.
"Freak, where the fuck did you find that?" He cocks an eyebrow at you, setting his phone down.
"In bossman's desk." You shrug. "Quite a collection he's got in there, actually. Answer the question."
Tomura stops for a moment, leaning against the glass counter behind the register as he deeply thinks about his answer. Given his stoic and apathetic personality, you were half expecting him to tell you to fuck off and eat shit.
"Personality."
"Loser-" You began, getting ready to shoot him the most annoyed eye-roll you could muster.
"-And ass." He cuts you off with a smirk before returning to his phone.
You chuckle, tossing the magazine back in the desk drawer with the others before slamming it shut.
You make your way over to the opposing side of the glass counter where he stood, peering over to see him playing clash of clans on his phone.
"I'm bored. Dying of it, actually." You exacerbated, blowing a breath of air into the pale strands of hair hanging over his forehead "Put your phone away and entertain me for the last hour that we're here."
"Piss off and perish." He mutters, eyes still glued to his screen.
You pout at his coldness. You had spent the day cleaning, reshelving, wiping down any counter you could find, and now at this ungodly hour, you've been left with nothing you could possibly do except wait for the minutes to go by until the end of the shift.
"Wanna make out in the back room?" You prop your elbow on the counter and rest your head in your palm, staring up at him with a flirty smile.
His thumbs pause on his screen, eyes snapping over to meet your own, annoyance flash across them the moment he sees your cheeky grin and fake-innocent eyes staring back at him.
"What?" A faint blush dust over his cheeks as he avert his gaze from your own.
"You heard me." You playfully lean back on your heels, swinging yourself back and forth. "All this alone time, you're not itching to take my clothes off? A little fun, Shigs? Something to help you loosen up?" You inch your face closer to his.
More often than not, you ended up on the schedule with Tomura for the most brutal hours of 6:30pm-1:30am for most nights of the week. Your boss says it's to stay available for the nightcrawlers of the city, but business is always dead by 11:00pm. For those excruciatingly slow last few hours, you cherished spending them terrorizing Tomura for his flustered reactions and the amusement of annoying him.
The pink of his cheeks bloom into a bright red, causing him to hide his face in his forearm, covering it with a cough.
"Just kidding, Shigs." You lean back and playfully shoving his shoulder from across the counter. "I'm just being silly, no need to get your panties in a twist."
"I fucking hate when you do that." He runs a hand through his hair, pushing back the strands that always end up falling back in his face.
"Do what, exactly?" You cock your head to the side.
"You know what. You're worse than Dabi." He huffs. "Start doing your closing work or something if you're bored." He turns his back to you and leans back against the counter, frantically scrolling through twitter- obviously not reading any of the words on screen, but just trying to avoid you for long enough so you lose interest in bothering him.
"I finished those an hour ago." You whine. "Crazy idea, but what if we close early? There's only less than an hour left and these cameras have been out of service for the past 2 months."
He looks back at you, and takes a scan at the state of the store- cleaned, restocked, inventory logged, everything seems to be in order. It wasn't like the store's upkeep was any hard work, anyways. In fact, the owner barely ever came in and you were half sure that he used this old comics and game store for money laundering purposes.
"That might actually be the smartest thing your dumbass has said all shift."
-
The night breeze blew right through your sweater, causing a chill to crawl up your spine.
"Alright, Shiggy, I'll see you when I see you, then?" You squeak out, rubbing your arms for the heat friction.
"Hold on." He mutters, cigarette hanging from his lips as he wiggles the door to make sure it's properly locked. "I'll walk you home."
"I do this walk multiple times a week, Shigs." You smile at the sentiment. "I'll be fine. I live close by."
"I know you'll be fine. I just don't want to go back to the apartment yet. Dabi's throwing a party and I'd rather not deal with a group of drunk idiots right now." He shrugs, taking a drag of the cig before passing it over to you in which you gladly accept from his fingers, letting the intoxicating smoke warm you from the inside.
"Oh, that's right. He invited me when I saw him during the shift change." You exhale, blowing the smoke behind you, starting to lead him towards the direction of your home.
"Shouldn't we head that way, then?" He stops in his tracks.
"Well, I'd only go if you were there to keep me company, but if you're not feeling it then probably not."
"Parties aren't really my thing, but if you're there, then it'll be fine. I can tolerate it." He mutters, kicking a pebble to the side. "I can always just lock myself in my room, I'm sure they'll be too shitfaced to notice, anyways."
"What? I'd notice." You pout.
"I'll lock you in with me, duh." He coughs, hiding a smile while sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.
"Really?"
He nods his head in response.
"Sounds like you like my company a lot more than you give off, Shigs." You smile, redirecting your walk back towards his apartment now.
"Heavy on the tolerate." He meets your eye for a moment before returning them down at his feet.
It had been an especially cold winter night. Hoodies and knitted sweaters were always a staple in Tomura's wardrobe, in any weather, but tonight he sported a dingy old leather jacket over his usual hoodie for the extra warmth. The cold air nipped the apples of his cheeks and tip of his nose into a rosy pink, and if he didn't have his hood over his head, you were sure the tip of his ears would be under the same condition.
You naturally ran hot, but your favorite part of a chilly walk home from work was the blast of warm air hitting your face and defrosting your fingertips the second you walked into your apartment- which fortunately also motivated you to get quick with your pace.
"I think Twice and Toga live this way too." You mumble, starting to recognize the surrounding structures.
"They do. We walk together if we're scheduled together, which is almost never, but a couple times a month, maybe."
"Do you ever think about quitting?" You turn to him and ask.
"Only when the general population is being extra stupid. Other than that, not really. You?"
"Sometimes. I have an existential crisis about what I'm doing with my life every now and then, but I like working with everyone."
"With everyone? You mean just me?" He chuckles, earning him a scoff from you.
"I just tolerate you, actually. I live for those 5 minutes in between shifts where I say hi and bye to my people."
You catch the end of an eye-roll.
"What do you get so existential about?"
"You know, the typical stuff every twenty-something year old goes through. Progressing in life and all that bullshit?" You sigh.
"Get specific, dumbass." He takes a long drag of the cigarette, letting the smoke fog around you. "I'll grant you some of my wisdom."
"Lately, it's a lot of if my kid-self would like my adult-self, if working at the shop is just me trying to hold onto my childhood, dropping out of college, never having my first kiss, miss being taken care of, and probably a million more things." You list off, counting on your fingers.
"Damn. I'd hate to be in your brain." Tomura mutters. "Shit happens and we all die. Better to not stress about it."
"Great wisdom, dipshit." You chuckle, nudging him with your elbow.
"If it makes you feel better, I also dropped out and haven't had a first kiss."
"No education I can tell-"
He flips you off.
"-but no first kiss?" You dramatically gasps "I don't believe that. You're so cute!"
"And you're not?"
Your mouth gaped open at the subtle hit of flirtation from him. The coldness on your neck and cheeks were quickly replaced by an unfamiliar rush of heat.
"Shut up." You mutter, snapping your head forward to hide your blush. "I guess people don't like cute now-a-days."
"Guess not."
After coming up on his apartment building, you two halted to a stop. You two spent most of the walk in silent solitude, passing back and forth the same innocent subtle glances with every puff of the shared cigarette.
"You ready?" He steps out the butt of the cigarette and shoves his hands in the pockets of his jacket.
"Can't wait to see that crusty dusty reddit-incelified gaming set up of yours." You tease.
"Just wait 'til you see the jar." He retaliates, causing you to scowl in disgust and slapping him across the bicep.
For a second, you could almost make out the softest glimpse of a smile on his lips, but you decided to let that be something you keep to yourself, locking it away in your memories.
You follow him into the apartment complex and up the dingy and loud humming of the elevator that replaced the need for conversation. From a few steps outside of the door you could hear the trashy garage band music emitting from the inside- definitely Dabi's kind of party.
You watch Tomura fumble with his keys for a moment before swinging the door open, letting a rush of hot air mixed with the fumes of stale cigarette smoke and beer slap you in the face.
You two cram into the doorway, almost back to back as you kicked off your shoes and shed off unnecessary layers.
You take a step into the living room to see many new and familiar faces huddling in small circles around the apartment, sporting flushed cheeks and drink in hand.
"Dabi's wasted." Tomura leans down and whispers, lips lightly grazing the shell of your ear, sending a shudder up your spine. "Watch out or he might claim your first kiss. He's a stupid affectionate drunk."
Unfortunately for you, your eyes instantly caught onto Dabi's from across the room, causing him to bum rush his way over to you guys, throwing his arms around you two into a hug, crushing your body together against Tomura's.
"I told you." Tomura mouths down to you with an annoyed expression.
"Fuckers, you're late." He slurs into your shoulder. "I shoulda burnt that fucking store down to get you here earlier."
"Aren't you scheduled for the morning?" You cock an eyebrow at his drunken state.
"That's tomorrow-me's problem, sweets." He says with a lopsided grin. He grabs Tomura's head and presses a wet kiss to his temple before slapping one on your forehead. "You kids mingle and go get something go drink."
Once Dabi returns back to the party, you turn to Tomura with a laugh. After wiping off the side of his head with his sleeve, he places a hand on the back of your head, and uses his other to swipe across your forehead, wiping off the remnants of Dabi's drunken kiss.
"Fuckin' gross." He mumbles to himself.
You two spent a little less than an hour making your rounds around the party, a shot here and there when the other coworkers demanded one from you, but with the nod of his head towards the hallway, you knew his social battery had been drained.
"Handling your alcohol?" He asked, pulling you towards his room by the sleeve of your sweater, slightly stumbling over the carpet.
"Of course." You mutter. "You?"
"Couple shots got nothing on me."
The second the door clicked shut behind you, you audibly sighed from the sweet relief of a moment of silence after a full shift of the same work playlist on repeat and the party's music following you around the apartment.
"Finally." Tomura groans, reaching up behind his neck, lightly tugging on the back of his hoodie.
You took a seat on his gaming chair, hugging a knee up to your chest as your eyes scan across the walls of his room, glancing over at his various superhero posters, and bookshelf of collectables until it locked on his pale lower torso that exposed itself from his t-shirt riding up with the hoodie as he yanked it off over his head.
"Uhh." You begin, swiveling your chair around and averting your attention towards his gaming setup. "You stream? You got a webcam."
"Do you care?" You feel a hand grip the head of the gaming chair, swiveling you back around to face him, who is now leaning over you. "Thought you didn't care about all that shit."
"It's different if it's you." You smirk up at him, letting the alcohol boost your suave facade that had originally faltered upon seeing a few inches of his naked torso.
"Relentless flirt." He brings his hand down to flick your forehead before taking a seat on his unmade bed, leaning back against the headboard with his hands behind his head.
You accidentally knock the mouse cursor with your elbow, waking the monitor. Staring back at you in a bright red blocky font was 2:39AM, suddenly sobering you up.
"Oh shit, it's getting pretty late." You check your phone to confirm. "I should get going."
"Uh, isn't your apartment in the opposite direction from work?"
He only had to look you up and down one time to know that you weren't sober enough to make the walk by yourself. He wouldn't even think about letting you leave this apartment at this hour, anyways.
"Yeah? So what?" You cock an eyebrow at him.
"I mean...you think you should stay the night?" He starts, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "If you want, I don't care."
"Do you want me to stay the night?" You shoot him a daring smirk.
"Do you want to stay the night?" He retaliates.
"Sounds like you want me to. So fine, I guess, if you're begging for it."
"Fuck off and get eaten by the coyotes." He scowls in irritation, pulling his phone out to divert his attention.
You hop onto the bed next to him, catching his panicked expression the moment he realized how close you two were now. On the same bed. Alone. Along with the new question of where you would be sleeping- something that he had not thought about until now.
"C'mon Shigs! It's no fun when I'm the one that's always doing the chasing, babe. You have to want me as much as I want you, that's what makes it fun." You jokingly sigh.
"Who says I don't?"
Your eyes go wide. You were so used to him deflecting all of your useless attempts to fluster him, so you weren't sure how to handle your short circuited brain the second he finally returns the same energy.
"Uhhh. Okay, I take it back. Don't do that again." You press your lips together in defeat.
"I say four words and you start losing it?" He chuckles. "Think I got you beat at your own game."
"I guess tonight will test that, won't it?"
-
You were slowly eating your words with every second that passed. Your alcohol induced fake confidence had slowly dwindled down to nothing and now here you are sharing a bed with Tomura with your heart beating out of your chest, when you probably should've just offered to take the floor.
You two were lying on your sides facing one another with the covers pulled up to your chin. You were desperately trying to fall asleep, but you could hear his soft inhale and exhales and feel the air brushing past your cheeks as a constant reminder that he's right next to you, sharing the same bed, sharing the same air, all under the same blanket.
You slightly opened your eyes to peer through your lashes to see him wide awake and looking right at you, the back of his hand pressed against his cheek and soft eyes scanning over your face.
You open your eyes to meet his own.
"You're awake?" He whispers, slightly taken aback.
"How can I sleep when your stare is burning into my soul?" You tease. "Go to sleep, Shigs."
You never were able to get this close to Tomura without him flinching back or turning his head away to avert your gaze, but he stayed right here, letting you fully take in his presence. You almost wanted to reach your hand out and touch him, feel the softness of his cheeks, and tuck the stray hairs behind his ears.
"You don't think I'm trying?" He huff "It's fucking freezing in here. Dabi has daddy's money to always have the AC running even in the Winter."
"You should've said something earlier. We've been lying here for the past 30 fucking minutes." You start throwing apart the pillow wall that he put up between you two to prevent any 'funny business.'
"What are you doing?" He furrows his brows.
You say nothing, but instead grabbed the fabric of the t-shirt and pulled him in to close the gap between you two. His eyes widen at the sudden closeness. Your faces were mere inches away from each other, your leg shoved its way in between his, and your arm snaked its way around his waist.
"This okay?"
"A warning would've been nice." He mutters under his breath, stiffly letting his arm hang over your body, landing his hand in the middle of your back.
"I like the essence of surprise." You chuckle, looking up at him. "Better, though?"
He sighs in confirmation. "You're like a fucking furnace." He groans into your hairline.
"And you're like a popsicle."
"This would be nicer if you didn't talk."
"And this would be nicer if you'd relax and stop being so stiff." You pat the area between his shoulder blades, motioning him to let his arms loose. "I've seen you and Spinner cuddle it out on the couch in the backroom all the time, so don't act like you don't know how to do this."
"It's different." He mumble, reluctantly letting his body relax and mold against your own. "It's you."
"You dislike me that much?" You sigh, pressing your cheek against his chest, tapping your fingers against his back in content. "Do it for the purpose of survival, then."
"The opposite."
Your breathing hitches.
"Huh?" You tilt your head up to look at his face.
"Yeah." He presses his lips together, eyes darting around the room.
"You're saying 'the opposite' as in you do like me?"
"Fuck off. Don't make me say it again." His eyes finally lowered to meet yours.
You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "Say what again? You quite literally did not say anything."
"I think this is the worst fucking time to have this conversation. Go to sleep and talk later."
"No!" You pout. "I'm not tired anymore. Let's talk now. What did you mean by that?"
A moment of silence fell between you two. With your face against his chest, you could hear his heart pounding. You suffered from the same feeling. Your throat goes dry from the anticipation of a potential confession that you'd been silently hoping for since you first met him.
"I thi-" He begins, stopping for a moment to swallow down his nerves. "So fucking awkward." He groans. "I do like you. As if it wasn't obvious, you dumbass."
"Obvious?" You scoff. "I'm obvious. Me. You on the other hand, definitely not."
"You obvious? You flirt to fuck with me."
"I flirt with you because I like you." You bite the inside of your cheeks. "Also to fuck with you, but because I like you."
You two were rendered speechless as you're left to stare at each other with wide eyes, digesting this dual confession.
"So.." He begins, trailing off into nothing.
"So.. is this where we have our first kiss?" You awkwardly laugh, trying to cut through the tension.
"Are you joking?"
"Yes if you're not, but no if you are? I don't know? Not like either of us have done this before." You say through clenched teeth, cringing at yourself as your poor attempt to lighten the mood.
"Okay, then."
"Are you serious?" Your eyes widen at the sudden permission. "That easy? You're not going to tell me to fuck off?"
He disregards your hesitation and props himself on his elbow, looking down at you with a look in his eyes you've never seen before.
"On your back." He instructs.
Your body suddenly goes hot and numb as you slowly turn over onto your back, looking up at him looming over you sporting the same pair of flushed cheeks.
"This is unexpected." You whisper, balling fistfuls of the comforter in your hands. "What the hell is possessing you right now?"
"You, I think." He sheepishly smiles, cautiously bringing a hand down to cup your cheek, his cold hand absorbing your body heat. "It's what you wanted wasn't it? All those times when we're alone at the shop? Asking me to join you in the backroom? You did just say it wasn't just because you were fucking with me."
Just like that, the last 6 months of night shifts spent tormenting Tomura had come to bite you in the ass.
"Okay." You squeak out, reaching up to lay one hand over his, and the other on his shoulder. "I guess you're right. You're not freaking out, though? This is fine for you?"
"Definitely am freaking the fuck out. But I've been waiting for this, so I don't care." He mutters, running his thumb across your lower lip.
"This okay?" He mutters, inching closer to your face.
"Yeah." You whisper a moment before his lips grazes your own.
He finally closes the gap between you, letting the stray strands of his hair drape onto your face, tickling your forehead. For a second, the kiss was stiff with anxiety, but it wasn't even a second until your lips melted into each other's. It was almost suffocating- the sweet gentleness of it all.
Your hand traveled up his shoulder to the nape of his neck where you entangled your fingers in his hair, lightly tugging on the mass. His own hand made it down to your waist, flushing his palm against its curve.
When you broke apart, he collapsed on top of you, hiding his face in the crevice between your neck and shoulder before you two burst out in fits of childish giggles.
"Okay my turn. Get on your back, slut." You laugh, trying to shove him off of you.
"Hell fucking no. You want to kill me? We're done, go to sleep." He buries his face deeper into your neck, releasing a deep sigh of content. "Deal with everything else tomorrow."
"Talk tomorrow." You agree, turning over and entangling your body with his own.
You couldn't help but admire the look of his swollen-kissed lips and sleepy eyes staring back down at you. One last time before you two went off to sleep, you pressed a tender kiss to his lips before melting back into his body.
-
bonus scene:
your hands were lazily attached to one another's during another chilly quiet walk to your apartment the morning after your confessions and kiss.
"you didn't have to walk me home." you mutter, shyly peering over to him.
"i wanted to." he shrugs, tightening his grip on your hand. "the least i could do for keeping me company last night."
you hum in agreement. "no probs. thanks for letting me hang out. we should do it more often."
"the hanging out or..." he tugs down the collar of his knitted sweater to reveal an array of purple and red bruises on his collarbones and shoulder that conspired that early morning of more playful kisses and giggles.
"you see, i don't know how the hell that happened." you press your lips together, suppressing a smile. "must've been a ghost."
"must've been." he smirks, looking on ahead.
once you arrive at your door, he leans his shoulder against the wall as you dig through your bag for your keys.
"you're off tonight, yeah?"
"i am." you glance up at him before pulling out your bundle of keys. "you're kicking it with toga tonight?"
"mmhm. think i can come by after work? we're getting the new volume of terror tales tonight, so i can snatch one for you before it sells out?"
"already planning out the next time you can see me, shigs?" you smile, inserting the key into the door knob.
"i mean, i can let you scour ebay and pay triple for it too, see if i care." he rolls his eyes.
you grab the collar of his sweater and pull him in, connecting your lips for a brief moment.
"it better be in mint fucking condition." you mutter against his lips. "see you tonight."
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a-aexotic · 2 years ago
Note
HEYYYY! So like every other mf on the planet right now I am in my hunger games era!!
Please could you write a Finnick x Reader where she is selected for the quarter quell (Maybe in her games she was lethal and killed like 10+ people?)
And when Katniss shoots the arena in catching fire she gets taken by the capitol (Like Peeta) and they torture her and shit? Then Finnick and her get there reunion she’s all like battered and bruided and it’s dead sad? Not sure if this made sense because i’m half asleep and dyselxic but let me know😭🤣
Maybe he says “It’s okay baby i got you” ??? x
hey of course i can! i hope u enjoy it babe <3 its a tiny bit long! my apologizes
cw's: angst, mentions of killing/dying, typical thg stuff, torture, ptsd, lmk if i missed anything
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You were one of the youngest victors alongside Finnick, being only 15 and having won your games. You were also from District 4. You won the 68th Hunger Games, a few years after Finnick.
When you were reaped, Finnick and Mags were your mentors. Finnick came off as self absorbed and arrogant but once you started talking to him, the more you realized that was total bullshit. He wasn't how the Capitol portrayed him, he was much more caring and compassionate. He was very sympathetic to your situation, having gone through the same things.
During your time in the arena, you were one of the most ruthless tributes of all time. In the beginning, you were easily overlooked. The tributes weren't thinking that you were going to be much of a challenge because of your size and the way you carried yourself.
But that was exactly how you wanted to be portrayed. You tricked the Careers into thinking you were some naïve little girl, stabbing them in the back (literally) the first chance you got. The Capitol loved the turn of events, cheering you on.
When you had come back home, you had finally understood the intensity of what you had done. You had killed a whole group of people, ending their lives permanently. Those people had lives and family who loved them, and now they're gone because of you.
You suffered through months and months from never ending nightmares. Even getting consoled by your mother didn't help anymore; she doesn't understand. You didn't even feel worthy of food anymore.
You closed off Mags and Finnick when you had come home, driving yourself into isolation and depression. You rarely went out anymore, eating one meal a day and slept more than 80% of the day. Even sleeping couldn't mend the eternal tiredness you had, the void that filled your body.
Finnick had felt more than responsible for your pain. He gave you time before he realized he was just adding to your pain. Even when you didn't communicate back to him, Finnick visited you every day. He gave you advice and told you what he had went through after the Games as well. Eventually you opened up more to Finnick, and slowly, he had become your best friend.
He had told you that numbing it wasn't going to make it go away. He reminded you that you had him and Mags to help you with this process, and that you weren't alone despite of how you felt.
He helped you regain your sense of purpose again, your self image again. Finnick had singlehandedly helped you rebuilt your sense of self again.
He saw a part of you in him, that scared 14 year old boy who was trying to go back home to his parents. He never wanted anyone to feel that, especially you.
He promised you that he would never let anything bad ever happen to you again.
During your Victor's tour, Snow had suddenly deemed you desirable by the Capitol, wanting to sell you as he did with Finnick. Finnick couldn't risk getting involved, wanting to protect his family.
Every night in the Capitol, you were always consoled by Finnick. Every time you had to do a favor, you remember walking to Finnick's room to sleep, not baring the thought of having to sleep alone in the cold bed. He was always there, holding your hand comfortingly as you both slept.
The Capitol adored you both, nicknaming you the princess and prince of Panem. The more time you spent with Finnick, the more the media had speculated a relationship between the young victors.
You and Finnick had connected in many ways. Both having the same trauma, it was easy to talk to him and for him to understand how hard it was.
You and Finnick eventually got together a few years later, then getting married (in secret, of course) almost right after. You were both deeply in love.
Finnick found solace in the thought of always having you by his side, remembering that no one could tear you apart. That was until the Quarter Quell was announced.
You and Finnick were sitting at the edge of the couch, listening to Caesar's words carefully as he explained that this year's Hunger Games was going to be very different.
When it was announced that there will be only be Victors in this year's games, you heard dropped. You looked over at Finnick and he shared the same terrified look on his face.
--
When Annie's name had been called, you without any second thought, put up your hand. "I volunteer as tribute."
The crowd gasped and you looked over at Annie and you could tell she was a bit relived but still scared nonetheless. You immediately embraced her tightly, letting her let out a small sob. "It's okay, you're okay."
Mags looked just as terrified and you took her hand. When Finnick's name was called, you felt your stomach drop. Not only were you back in the arena, but you were with Finnick.
You looked over at Finnick and he looked prepared to fight. You both stood up and he grabbed your hand, raising it up in union.
The trainride to the Capitol was pretty uneventful. Finnick had wanted some time to think about the plan and so did you. A part of you knew what he was planning; he kill everyone else in the arena and then eventually himself, all for you.
As you sat on the bed, you felt the sadness and anger turn into numbness. No amount of crying was going to stop the Quater Quell and you had to be smart.
You didn't want to survive without Finnick. You were either winning with him or dying with him. Life would be meaningless without him.
Finnick knocked on your door slightly, before walking in. You looked up at him and he gave you a small smile. He took a seat next to and took your hand.
"I have a plan."
"Finnick, I know what you're thinking, and no. You're not killing yourself for me."
Finnick looked defeated. "One of us has to survive, Y/N. For Annie. For Mags."
You look a deep inhale, looking away from Finnick. "I don't want to life without you, everything would lose all it's meaning without you."
Finnick felt his heart burst into two pieces as he squeezed your hand. You felt your eyes watering again and you couldn't help but let out another quiet cry as Finnick pulled your head in, as he embraced you tightly.
"Shh, it's okay. I promise, I won't... I won't leave you."
--
It had all happened so fast, you couldn't even comprehend what had just happened. One moment, you were with Finnick trying to find Johanna and Katniss and suddenly there was big loud boom. You were relieved for a moment; Plutarch's plan had worked. Until you realized how far away you were from the others.
You were wandering, trying to find anyone until you heard people behind you. You turned and then you saw some unfamiliar faces; suddenly, your vision went black.
Then, you woke up in a white room. You felt like your stomach had dropped out of your body once the realization hit you; the Capitol captured you.
You were strapped down to a bed and you couldn't move or shake it off. The severity of the situation had hit you; even if by some miracle you did escape, where would you go? How would you find your way to 13 and back to Finnick?
You knew how ruthless the Capitol was to everyone who disobeyed them. Your worst fears had come true and there was no getting out of here.
You heard the door open and you saw some Peacekeepers come in and then you saw the person you dreaded to see most; Snow. You felt like your whole had come crashing down, how could this nightmare become any worse?
"Hello, Y/N."
You didn't respond, resorting to stare at the wall in front of you instead.
He tutted disappointedly. "Out of all the tributes, you were the one I expected least to be involved in this mess. You are the Princess of Panem... What a shame."
You still hadn't replied and you hadn't dared to look at Snow. Months and months you spent trying to heal the trauma he had caused you, you were sure if you had to look at him now, you would break.
"I want to take mercy on you, dear Y/N. If you tell me everything you know about the rebellion, I will make sure the Peacekeepers are gentle with you."
You shook your head. "No."
He let out a small chuckle. "Sorry, I couldn't hear you. What?"
"No." You said again, louder.
He hummed in disapproval. "Okay then, you leave me no choice. You are going to regret this."
He nodded to the Peacekeepers and walked out of the room. You were then met with Peacekeepers, loosening the straps then taking you to another room.
If Snow knew one thing about you, it was that being only physical with you wouldn't hurt you enough. He had to hit you were it hurt most.
They threw you in the seemingly vacant room and immediately locking it. You were confused until you heard it.
"Y/N, help me!" Finnick's voice screamed. "Please, help me! Get up and do something, they're killing me! Please."
You looked everywhere in the dark room, trying to find the source. It kept going.
"Y/N, please! Help! What the hell are you doing, just sitting there? You are such a disappointment!" The voice started shouting. "We should've just left you to died in the arena! You are useless!"
Now this was something new. Your body was filled with panic and fear and even though you knew it was fake, you felt like you were going to throw up from all the noise.
Suddenly, Annie's voice came in as well. Then Johanna's. Then your mother's. There was nonstop noise filled with screams for help, shouting with disapproving messages. Your body couldn't handle it; it was so overwhelmed with fear that you started shaking on the ground, putting your hands on your ears but that did little to nothing.
You wanted it to stop. It was too much, you were trembling. It felt like days, just sitting there in that room listening to all those demeaning voices of your loved ones. You couldn't even think straight anymore.
It was so bad you had started to pound your head on the ground, screaming and crying. You had have enough. And then, it all stopped. Silence was foreign for you; your ears were ringing.
You were sitting on the ground, almost lifeless as the Peacekeepers took you away. Your eyes hurt from the tears, your body sore, your ears ringing and your head was pounding.
But you knew that was just the beginning.
--
You were asleep in bed and you were awakened by the door opening, you instantly jolted up. You looked over to see a group of masked men in front of you and you had started to tremble again, silent tears rolling down your face, thinking that the Peacekeepers had come again.
"No, no, no." You started to mumble to yourself.
A man came up to your and took your bruised hand slowly, rubbing it gently in silent empathy. That was the first soft touch you'd felt in a few weeks and it almost stung.
"It's okay, you're safe now. You're going to 13 now."
You had to blink a couple times, trying to process what he said. Was this a dream? You went to pinch yourself but it was real life.
He then helped you up but you couldn't help but stumble; your legs were weak, you couldn't remember the last time the Peacekeepers let you walk for this long.
As you got into the hovercraft, you saw Annie. Your eyes widened as you both ran up to each other, embracing each other. She had started to cry a little bit and so did you.
That was when it hit you. You were going to see Finnick. You were going home. You started crying into Annie's shoulder as she held you. "We're safe now, we're safe."
You had seen Johanna as well but she didn't seem too responsive. Neither did Peeta. You fell asleep on Annie's shoulder on the ride back and for the first time, you actually felt yourself drifting off calmly.
--
There were lots of doctors and nurses looking at you and asking you all sorts of questions and you tried your best to answer them. You were still in shock; you were safe. They couldn't hurt you anymore.
"Y/N?" You turned around to see Finnick. You immediately got up from the examiner's table and ran into his arms, your eyes starting to water up again.
"Finnick," you sighed slowly. You pulled away, putting your hands on his face and touched him as if he wasn't real.
"Are you.. Are you really here?"
"Yes, I'm really here." Finnick looked at you and suddenly his voice transported you back into the dark room. You quickly twisted out of his embrace and his expression changed.
His voice was back and you heard all of the nasty things he had to you. You back away, stumbling into the examiner's table and your breathing became heavy. "No, no, no, please-please go away. No."
You slid down to the floor and you closed your eyes, putting your hands on your ears and rocking back and forth trying to get that voice to stop.
Finnick ran up to you and put his hands on your knees, trying to get you to look at him. His heart broke in half; he didn't know what the Capitol had done to you but now he knows it has something to do with him.
Of course the Capitol would try to ruin him. His eyes started to tear up at the sight of you, in so much pain and panic.
You opened your eyes, Finnick in front of you. You started to cry some more before Finnick slowly went up to you, wrapping his arms around you.
When he had started wrapping your arms around you, your instinct was to push him away but his warmth was welcoming and safe and you started to focus on his touch. The voices slowly drifted away, the sounds of your silent sobs only being heard.
You then gave into Finnick's touch, falling into him and putting your head in his chest as he caressed your back gently, shushing you.
"It's okay baby, I got you. You're safe now, they can't hurt you."
6K notes · View notes
tiktaalic · 10 months ago
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catching fire dash simulator
finnicksgirl Follow
my streams have been cutting all season omfg what is going on
caps4finnick Follow
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cinnagirl3000 Follow
anybody heard from cinna lately?
plutarcheology Follow
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Plutarch Heavensbee circa 2282
revolutionarykatniss
As if it’s not ENOUGH that yall wanna fuck the most morally bankrupt man alive who is more than complicit because he gets paid to live in luxury to ORCHESTRATE the deaths of innocents so that they’re a spectacle and don’t have the option to die even semi peacefully. as if that’s not enough. You wanna fuck him when he’s ugly?
caesarflickerwoman Follow
anyone else still thinking about how caesar and peeta were kinda ..
czrflckmn
Aren’t you the one who had the week long meltdown about peeta being overfamiliar with him
caesarflickerwoman
Well you see I’m gay and a man now
theeclove Follow
already tired of this fucking season of everlark -_- idgaf about the fucking fog
siblingvictors
DISTRICT ONE GONNA SEND THEM A CANCELLATION NOTICE!! #CASHMEREGLOSS4EVER
czrflkmn Follow
everyone looooooves to act like NOTABLE cishet peeta is so gay w caesar as if his gay cohost isn't right there.... slaying in a wig..... sending yearning glances caesar's way right before the camera cuts......
johannadykeson Follow
tbh she’s got the WORST taste in allies idek why i continue to stan. girl MAGS?
#my girl going to get slorn :/
katnissgirlsmakedo
She is choosing with her HEART she chose to save peeta in the games REMEMBERRRRRRRR she’s literally a lovergirl to the core
#lovecore #heartcore #truelove
lucygraydotcom Follow
Caesar flickerman kidn if a laughing gnome. Reblog
finnickforever Follow
I’ve supported finnick through a lot and defended them and I’ve always been proud they're from my district but honestly they went way too far by doing the salute during the interview. I can only hope that they just got caught up in the moment with everyone else doing it and obviously it’s a stressful situation but I don’t think I can continue endorsing them. I’ll be changing my url this week.
divorceekatniss Follow
hey guys i know times are tough for everyone and the capital has really cracked down but my mutual @divorceepeeta got flogged the other day and could really use some help. v3nmo here. anything helps #signalboost #mockingjay
disabledmags Follow
Tbh the baby is the saddest thing I've ever heard </3
peetaspride
Another citizen falling for capital propaganda. It's so glaringly apparent that this is made up to draw in views. The tributes undergo extensive medical examination prior to the games. They would NEVER let a pregnant woman compete.
disabledmags
As if killing children has ever stopped them before?
#We all saw him fall to protect her stomach before they even started the victory tour #Is it that ridiculous to believe two newlyweds fresh out of a life or death situation would celebrate a little carelessly?
peetaspride
If you think even the marriage is real you're stupider than I thought. Peeta spends every interview begging us to see his truth. The capital is shamelessly silencing him and "the baby" is a distraction.
peetasbabymama Follow
URL CHANGE!! faggotpeeta->peetasbabymama
cupcakeeverlark
this isnt funny. peeta's a real person with real feelings. it will never be funny to call someone a f***** as a joke. how would you feel if my url was f*****peetasbabymama?
peetasbabymama
ok
district420
isnt cupcakeeverlark literally prez snow's 12 yr old granddaughter lol
tendinghiswounds
OOMF IS 12???????????
everlarklovechild
the age is the problem here?
marriedeverlark Follow
Canon url 🎉🎊💅😁🥰♥️
beeteemp3 Follow
New content of my favorite tribute 😁😁😁
3ffietrinket
Girl there’s a 96% chance they die ?
peenick Follow
getting reports from the presidential banquet that Peeta looks gay as fuck
3v3rlark Follow
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ik peeniss has been flagging w the rehearsed speeches but did anyone else see the way they looked at each other in the censored district 11 speech
rues-song
you’re STUPID she’s a capital pawn AND i fucked your mom while you were busy looking for illegal streams
senecacraneofficial Follow
rip seneca you were so babygirl </3
plutarchbaby69
so now you think we can’t fuck old men?
#this fandom is so ageist #this is prob what I get for blogging about thg tbh since # it’s literally about kids. Some of you ppl need to grow up
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ironyadays · 1 year ago
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I'm just thinking about people who say Snow despises Katniss because he sees Lucy Gray in her...but what feels more painful to me is that Katniss (and Peeta to a certain degree) not only embodies the qualities that the capitol despises the most regarding the districts, but Snow can see so many people involved with those 10th hunger games tributes in her:
He sees Lamina looking at Marcus in pain and killing him out of sheer mercy in Katniss shooting Cato as a mercy kill.
He sees Reaper Ash's burial and defiance by giving his fellow districts a dignified death and sepulture when Katniss remained by Rue's side and decorated her grave with flowers.
He kind of sees Coral, albeit in a much more ironic way, this girl who was ruthless and embraced such violence with the purpose to protect herself and her district partner, the one she nurses back to health and refuses to leave behind, with the wish to have either one of them survive the games, only to realise it was all for nothing once she loses him and is about to die, when she loses her frail little sister at the hands of District 13.
He sees Sejanus standing for the revolution and fighting for others in detriment of his own safety, maybe not even taking the best judgement at times, in Katniss and not only her protection of Peeta, Rue, Mags, Wiress, but also her general place in the rebellion and restless pursuit of saving Peeta.
He sees Lucy Gray, who stood by Jessup's side until his last breath and refused to abandon him, that never conformed to what the capitol expected from her, and her long lasting and unbreakable heritage and print in Katniss' during the entire saga, but especially in the song that haunted him once as a reminder of the monster he truly is, and that came back to haunt him again in his downfall.
But most importantly, he sees himself, a man defined by his sense of survival, by his practicality and selfpreservation, in this less than 18 year old girl, and that's what terrifies him the most about that district 12 girl: the fact she forces him to confront that he caused so much pain out of a hunger that was never justified, that he could have made SO many things differently, and that most importantly, different to what he would try to say to himself, there was always another choice, and he might have not chosen the correct one every single time it came to deciding what path to take.
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bettysupremacy · 10 months ago
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another request for finnick, just a lil bit of angst as him and her get into a fight and then they make up. angst and then some fluff
love letter to finnick. maybe this is like the before of this
It’s dark in the large bedroom you cave yourself in, and it seems even darker post argument.
Your eyes ache dully, even closed they beg to be soothed. You can’t believe the contents of the last hour, they play behind your eyelids as you pray for comfort. This is the worst. The worst. The watch sitting on your bedside table reads midnight when you pick it up gently.
“Fuck,” it’s cold in your hand, pulling you closer to the real world you’d tried desperately to escape with sleep.
At home in district four, you hear the waves of a homely sea outside your window. Finnick is out there, for sure, swimming in the seas he knows you don’t like him in after dark. Some of the things he said were hurtful, but he said them out of fear. Fear of what would happen to you, to the peace he’d created at the shoreline of district four.
It’s quiet until the creek of your door alerts you. It’s slow, obvious the person behind it wants you asleep, and you know it’s Finnick by the way his feet fall on the hardwood floor.
“Baby?” He whispers. The name feels good at a time like this. You hardly fight, and when you do, it isn’t even really an argument. More of a disagreement.
“Are you awake?”
You contemplate lying and the good that will come from it. Ultimately nothing, but you wait a second anyways, listening to the air in your room shuffle in his wake.
“I’m sorry.” He murmurs, voice cracking. You can hear him bring his hands up, rough palms pressing into his eyes, staving away the tears he knows bound to come.
You turn, hearing the crinkle of the crisp sheets as you face him. He flinches, he didn’t think you were awake.
“I’m sorry,” He says for a different reason now. “I thought you were asleep.”
“No,” You say quietly, for no reason other than a little shame. “can’t sleep alone.”
He steps closer daringly, pulling his shirt off before he crawls under your covers. His hair is wet and smells like salt. Any other day you’d fret over your clean sheets, but now you pull him closer, tangling your hands in his wet hair. You brush it away from his eyes, letting them roam over your face.
“We’ll be fine, Finnick.”
He lets out a strangled breath, burying into your chest. His shoulders shake miserably as he grasps you desperately.
“You heard Beetee,” You’re referencing the phone call you’d gotten after the announcement of the quarter quell. “he’s got a plan.”
You let him cry, never quieting the tears he wish he could quiet himself. It’s scary, definitely, and you can’t imagine how he feels going into the arena with you.
“It’s me and Mags.” You say definitively. “And I’m not letting her in that arena.”
He pulls up, glossy eyes terrified. “You can’t.”
She’s old, nearing the end he wants to say, but he knows it’s not right, he loves the woman.
“I’m not letting her in that arena,” you push slightly. “I can survive, see the plan through, but she’s old, Finnick, she can’t last the games again.”
He nods, defeated. “I’ll keep you safe.”
You say nothing, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth. Then, “I know.”
He chases the feeling of your lips, kissing you softly. “Me and you.”
“And Beetee, and wiress.”
“Me and you.” He repeats.
“And katniss, and Peeta.”
He laughs quietly, nosing at your cheek. “Stop it.”
“I’m sorry,” you preen. “Me and you.”
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