#we start reading the hunger games next month

[sonofarathorn]

“Peeta’s useless.”

“Peeta doesn’t do anything.”

“Katniss carries Peeta.”

“Peeta is only alive because Katniss took care of him.”

That’s the point!! That’s the fucking point. Of course Peeta isn’t prepared to be in the arena. He’s a baker’s child. He’s gentle and sweet, and THATS THE POINT. But he’s also smart and crafty. Just because he wasn’t war ready doesn’t mean he’s worthless. No one should be prepared to be thrown into a murder arena and survive while also having to kill 23 other people. That doesn’t mean Peeta is weak. He’s 16 years old. He’s a child. No child should have been expected to endure that and they were and that’s the point.

[littledovesnow]

a growing family pt. 2

a/n: yay for part 2!! read part one here

word count: 1.8k

warnings: pregnancy, pretty canon-level violence and stuff i think. also i'm sorry in advance about this part <3

-----

"Now, Mr. Snow, you and your wife leave tomorrow for your District Tour." Lucky Flickerman spoke into microphone, eyes bouncing between Coriolanus and you.

Coriolanus nodded, not quite sure where this was going. He was briefed on the. main topics that Flickerman would go over during the interview and this was not one of them.

"Is there any worry about the twins? Congratulations, by the way! Twins! How lucky are you!"

You smiled, patting your husband's hand to signal that you would answer this question.

"Thank you, Lucky," you started, sweet smile on your face. "I've been in conversation with my medical team, and we've all come to an agreement that it's quite safe for me to travel with Coriolanus and the rest of his cabinet. I'm not due for another couple of months, anyway."

Coriolanus smiled at you, voicing his answer, as well. "We've also spoken to the OB/GYN, and she will be joining us on the latter half of the tour. We hope she can just enjoy the travel, not needed for any medical emergencies."

Lucky nodded, satisfied with that answer. "Now, Coriolanus, you've mentioned in some changes to the Hunger Games in the coming years. We've had questions coming in from watchers, but first, a few words from our generous sponsors."

The red light went off on top of the cameras, and you let the superficial smile fall from your face, hand going to rub your lower back.

"Your back still hurt, love?" Coriolanus asked, noticing your discomfort.

"I think our kids are going to be soccer professional, Coryo." You grumbled, one of the twins had been kicking mercilessly for a few weeks.

Coriolanus chuckled, removing your hand, using his palm to massage the area. "Well, you can tell them off when they're out here."

Lucky, who had been observing the couple from his spot on the seat across from them, wore a smile. "One thing that my wife asked I do when she was pregnant with Caesar was massage her back every night. Sometimes she still makes me do it."

You smiled at the TV host, humming. "Not a bad idea. Coryo, I think I know what your next job will be."

Coriolanus snorted, hand still massaging your back. "Anything for the mother of my children."

-----

The train car you were currently seated in was more luxurious than you remembered, seats having been upholstered from your last trip out of the Capitol.

You looked away from the mountain ranges decorating the horizon when the door opened, Coriolanus entering.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, coming to sit in the seat across from you, moving your feet from the seat to his lap.

Humming, you leant your head back as he began massaging them. "Better now. What was that meeting for? I thought you had travel days free."

Coriolanus pondered over how to answer, not wanting to tell you he had just had some rebels executed for a potential threat in Six. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with."

Opening an eye to look at him, you could read the man like an open book. "How many were there?"

There was a beat of silence before Coriolanus spoke up.

"Four. Would have been three but some things you can't avoid."

You didn't reply, simply wiggling your foot when Coriolanus' hands stopped massaging the arch of your foot.

He laughed, resuming the action as you two watched the mountain ranges and nature outside of the train.

-----

You yawned, staring at the ceiling of the Crane's hotel in District Three. It was nearing one in the morning, and you had gotten a sum total of about two and a half hours since you and Coriolanus crawled into the bed.

Moving as quietly as you could, you rose from the bed, waiting a beat to see if Coriolanus woke up.

His rather loud snore told you he was still off dreaming, something you were thankful for. He had a lot on his shoulders, and you didn't want to add onto the never-ending pile of worry and stress with the upcoming election.

Moving to the bathroom, you softly closed the door and looked at yourself in the mirror. The twins had been keeping you up at night more frequently, and your OB/GYN said it was just because while they were starting to get a regular sleep pattern, they couldn't tell day from night and often slept during the day.

When you opened the door, you frowned when you saw your husband sitting up in the bed, cheek still indented from the creases in the pillow.

"What are you doing up?" He asked, voice hoarse from sleep.

Rubbing one hand across your ever-growing bump, sleepily blinking at the man across from you. "Your children are wide awake, it seems."

Coriolanus smiled, patting the spot you had previously occupied. "Come here, I'll rub your back."

With the promise of that, you made your way back into the bed, stuffing one of the many pillows on the bed between your knees.

"Oh, well hello, little one."

You looked at where Coriolanus was staring at your bump, tiny foot barely visible. "Oh that's the most disturbing thing I think I've ever seen."

"Don't say that!" Coriolanus chided, though there was a smile on his face. "That's your child in there!"

"Coryo, you shouldn't be able to see their hands from outside!" You laughed, even though your OB/GYN said it was very possible to start to see little hands and feet as there became less and less free space.

Coriolanus pressed a kiss to your hairline, rubbing the place where the foot was. "Hi, babies. Please let your mother sleep, she needs to help me win over the hearts of Panem."

Rolling your eyes, you moved Coriolanus' hand to your back, letting your head fall back against a pillow. "Rub my back."

"Yes dear."

-----

Hand clasped tightly in Coriolanus' you two followed the Peacekeepers to the barracks to meet with the district's mayor and Commanding Peacekeeper.

You two had won the hearts over a majority of each District you've visited, but as you two traveled farther from the Capitol, you knew it would be more difficult and the chance of threats and rebels increased.

The number of Peacekeepers surrounding you two had grown within each stop, Coriolanus wanting to make sure nothing happened to his wife and mother of his children, his heirs.

"Mr. and Mrs. Snow, we're very pleased you two could be here!" The mayor smiled, shaking both of your hands.

You returned the sentiment, eyes locked on the plush-looking chair behind him. "Is it alright if I sit? My feet are killing me."

The mayor, who seemed to have just realized how large your bump had grown, nodded quickly, gesturing to the chair you had pointed to.

Coriolanus stood behind you, one hand smoothing your hair as he and the mayor discussed the afternoon's speeches and tour around the main hub.

"Will you be joining us, Mrs. Snow?"

"No, she's been feeling a little more tired." Coriolanus replied before you could speak up.

The mayor frowned, seemingly disappointed.

"Is there a problem?" You asked, feeling Coriolanus' hand still at the nape of your neck.

"Well, the children here have been so excited to meet you, but I'm sure seeing Mr. Snow will be just as fine."

Coriolanus knew you had a soft spot for children, how they still saw the best in everything. "Love, you barely slept last night. It's safer if you rest."

"Coryo, it won't be too long. And besides, we have a couple travel days I can catch up on sleep."

You ignored your husband's deep frown, instead smiling at the mayor. "We can't possibly let the kids down, can we?"

The mayor clapped happily, rising from his seat. "Well then, shall we go?"

You stood from the chair with some help from your husband, who placed a hand on your lower back, unable to keep his hands off of you.

"You're a spoiled brat, you know that?" He whispered, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"And you love me for it." You replied, sharp smile on your face.

-----

Coriolanus watched as you followed a few of the schoolchildren around the classroom, letting them explain the backgrounds of their various posters and projects.

"She's going to be a wonderful mother." The mayor spoke, standing next to Coriolanus.

He nodded, watching you kneel down to listen more to a rather small girl, your eyes focused on her entirely. "She already is."

"Mr. Snow, Mayor, we're going to be late if we don't head for the town square now."

Nodding, Coriolanus walked over to your side, kneeling down next to you and the young girl. "Hi, love. Mind introducing me to your friend?"

You looked at your husband, and then at the young girl. "Coryo, meet Clementine. Her friends call her Clemmie."

Coriolanus saw the twinkle in your eye as you looked back at the girl. "It's lovely to meet you, Clemmie. You know, Mrs. Snow and I have a friend named Clemmie."

"Really?" Little Clementine asked, eyes wide.

Nodding, Coriolanus helped you stand up straight. "We do, but don't worry, we can have two Clemmies. Now, I do have to steal Mrs. Snow now, we have to go to town square."

Clementine pouted, but nodded. "It was nice to meet you!"

"You, too, Clemmie! Good luck with your new brother!" You smiled, squeezing Coriolanus' hand as the two of you followed some Peacekeepers out of the school and down to the town square and stage.

You've only seen the stage on television for the Reaping Ceremonies, it looked larger on screen. "She was so sweet, Coryo. She was telling me how her mother looked like me and now she has a little brother."

Coriolanus smiled, thumb rubbing your hand. "That's very sweet. I'm sure you made her ent-"

A loud explosion cut Coriolanus off, Peacekeepers immediately springing into action, separating the two of you to get you both to safety.

There were a few more explosions around the stage, sending debris and dirt in the air.

"Coryo!" You called, trying to wriggle out of the Peacekeepers' grip and find your husband.

You coughed as you inhaled smoke, eyes wide to spot Coriolanus. "Let me go! I need to find Coriolanus!"

"Ma'am, you need to come with us! We have orders to bring both you and Mr. Snow to a safe room, please cooperate."

You had a disdain for the Peacekeeper who spoke to you rather harshly, feeling his hands tighten their grip on your bicep.

Stumbling a few times, you had finally made it to the small bunker, heart hammering when you saw Coriolanus and the mayor already in there, dirt on both of their faces and clothing.

"Love," Coriolanus sighed in relief, though it was short-lived as he ran his eyes over your body. "Love, you're bleeding."

-----

a/n: oh how i love a good cliff-hanger

[runningfrom2am]

in this life or the next

summary: It's the seventy-fifth annual Hunger Games, and you were just unlucky enough to get picked; but lucky enough for this Quarter Quell to feature pre-selected teams. You get paired up with District One's pride and joy, the one and only Rafe Cameron.

pairing: rafe x fem!reader

wc: 15k (oh my LORD)

tags/warnings: its the hunger games so like... yeah... violence and gore and stuff. definitely swearing, spoilers for the og Hunger Games movie I guess (but also not bc i changed it up a bit- you'll see), reader has a special talent that i won't spoil here, Rafe is lowkey a dick at the beginning, Ward being a shitty dad (what's new). also this isn't thoroughly edited bc.. its 15k words and i'm lazy.

masterlists // nav // requests

join my taglist here

a/n: hello lovelies!! oh my gosh i have been slowly chipping away at this for actual literal months, and i am so proud of how it turned out!! i’m really glad i could finally post it by my birthday!! (i’m 23 wtf??)

thank you so much if you're going to put in the time to read this, but it honestly means a lot to me that you've made it this far. reblogs and likes would be so appreciated and let me know your thoughts in the replies! i really, really hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it. let me know if you want a part two of what happens post games, bc i think i left it at a minor baby sized cliffhanger. anyway, i’m off to eat cake now! enjoy!

Staring blankly out at the crowd in front of you, you attempt to process the echoing of your heartbeat in your ears.

"I'd like us to give a round of applause for our brave, brave tributes this year, and wish them the best of luck in this year's quarter quell!" Your attention is drawn to the woman next to you, the District Five escort, Opal, dressed head to toe in bright yellow. A universally happy color- what a joke.

The crowd is mostly silent and you can't bear the thought of even glancing in the direction of your parents. You turn silently as you're ushered back into the building from the stage, tripping slightly over your feet as the shock sets in. People are talking, possibly to you, but you can hardly hear a thing. You almost made it. You were almost eighteen- one more year and you would have been free.

You were granted the briefest of goodbyes to your family, but you were tempted to even turn that down. An action you regret not taking as your parents walk into the room, your mother with tears already coating her cheeks and your father trying to keep a strong resolve for you and your siblings.

"We'll see you soon, Bug. Remember we love you," He whispers into your hair as you sob into his shoulder. You know he doesn't necessarily mean in this lifetime.

Your tunnel vision settles back in as you're walked out of the room, glancing one last time over your shoulder only to see your dad's shoulders shaking from his silent cries as he turns his back to you.

You are quickly pushed onto the train taking you out of District Five, ignoring the other three tributes and your mentors as they talk. You just stare out the window with tired, red eyes and say a silent goodbye to the home you're already sure you'll never see again.

"Y/N..?" The girl next to you says, tapping you on the shoulder and making you jump.

"Hm?" You hum your acknowledgment, looking at the girl beside you. She's only a year older than you, and you went to school together for years; Maisie, you remember.

"I just wanted to make sure you hear them," Maisie whispers, gesturing to Opal as she starts to explain what the premise of the games is this year.

"So," she claps her hands together, clad in tacky yellow gloves. "I'm sure you have noticed that this year there are four of you, and you'll each be paired up with another tribute to compete. Not necessarily from your own District, but, anything is possible, I suppose. The exciting news is that there's a possibility for two winners this year! You and your teammate will be given a score throughout the games, and if your score as the final two is above ten, you will both be crowned victors!" The woman says excitedly- like it's a good thing.

"And if we don't have over ten?" The boy sitting across from you asks flatly.

"Well... the games shall continue," Opal explains vaguely, but you know what that means. You've seen it before.

"Okay, well, how do we get a good score?" The boy asks.

"I-" The escort starts, hesitance clear in her tone as she's quickly interrupted.

"You kill people," Your female mentor answers. She's leaning her elbows on the end of the table, standing with a knife in her hand, spinning it around like it's some kind of toy.

Your eyes drop from her form, staring down at the table in front of you, suddenly remembering your glass of water and quickly grabbing it when you realize your mouth has gone completely dry just from the idea of what's to come.

You arrive at the Capitol in the middle of the night and despite this fact, the crowds are still there. You didn't expect this, even though you've seen it on the beat-up television in your living room every year. It feels less real, somehow, when you're the one getting pushed through the crowd, not knowing what to do besides give awkward smiles to people yelling your name.

Your room is beautiful. You've never seen anything like this, but you can fully customize it at will with a remote, and this level of technology fascinates you. You spend hours flicking through different images that can appear on the walls, surrounding you in another world. Exhaustion and the sound of an artificial thunderstorm put you to sleep with the remote still resting in your palm.

"Up, up, up, my dear! We've got a big day ahead!" Opal's cheery voice startles you awake from your less-than-cozy spot on the floor. "There's breakfast on the table then we've got to get you down to prep, so hurry up, please." She says, and just like that she's gone, no doubt off to wake the other District Five tributes in a similar fashion.

"You're going to be meeting your teammates for the first time today so you can train together- gosh isn't that just so exciting!" Opal claps as you all stand in the elevator. There's a silence that follows as you and Maisie just nod, not excited about the whole idea. You're about to meet someone who will either be spending the last days of your life with you, or be killing you themselves, and you're not fond of either.

"This way you'll get to train together first, which I do believe to be a very generous act on behalf of the game makers." She adds, making you roll your eyes. How considerate. The most you can hope for is someone who is capable, and preferably someone who isn't in the twelve to fifteen age range, having seen that there were several drawn from different districts.

You shift on your feet as you try to adjust to the uncomfortably tight catsuit they squeezed you into, covered in what must be sapphire and diamond rhinestones, pinching your skin with every slight movement. Gold accents line the seams of the suit, extending out into something that resembles wings and lightning bolts protruding from your back. District Five; power. You get it, but we're the diamonds necessary? You hardly take note of the varying outfits you're surrounded with from the other kids in your district, before Opal is guiding the four of you up the line of extravagant carriages you're meant to parade out on for the people of the Capitol to fawn over.

You take note of where all of the other tributes from Five are lead, guessing based on the order of carriages that Maisie got paired up with another girl from Eleven, and the boys somehow ended up paired together. There must be some sort of personal aspect to this decision, considering you have watched those two boys fight back home. You're last, and Opal looks at you excitedly as you follow her up, and up, and up- to the very front of the line.

"Surprise!" She grins, clapping excitedly as you approach the very first carriage. "Y/N, getting paired with a career is huge. Your odds are good already, your partner has trained his whole life- he even volunteered."

"Sucks for him." You mutter under your breath as you get closer, eyeing up the boy in front of you, wearing an almost matching outfit. All the rhinestones make sense now, blending power with luxury could only mean as much.

"Y/N Y/L/N, meet Rafe Cameron. He'll be your teammate in the games." She smiles as she introduces you.

"Hi." You say quietly, taking his hand as he holds it out to you to help you up onto the carriage.

"Hey." He mutters, avoiding your gaze. It's off to a rough start for him for sure, seeing he's being paired up with someone from an outlying district must be daunting, when for you it should be exciting. Rafe did volunteer, yes, but he doesn't want to risk any kind of attachment- despite what the people of the Capitol want for their entertainment. He wants to come out alive, he doesn't care so much about who he's with.

"Okay, Y/N, remember to smile, please." Opal reminds you and you nod, looking down at her as you hold onto the handle in front of you.

You promise her with a nod, willing to do almost anything at this point to win the favour of possible sponsors. Again, your odds look better next to a career on that front, as well.

Quickly everyone is cleared away from the horses and the carriages and you start moving, catching you off guard and you stumble a little, readjusting your grip on the railing. "Careful." Rafe says beside you, quick to reach out to steady you if you needed it. You think you see the smallest of smiles on his face, but that must have just been your own mind trying to find comfort in anything around you.

"I got it." You whisper, blushing slightly. You've been with your teammate for all of a minute, and you're already proving yourself to be clumsy.

The lights hit your eyes the same time all the cheering does, being the first carriage, it's already so loud you can hardly hear yourself think. You snap out of it quickly, plastering on a smile once you see your own face on a giant screen ahead of you, you don't even look like yourself anymore. Your eyes land on the screen adjacent to the one showing you, seeing Rafe as well. He's smiling too, clearly having headed Opal's advice, or his many years of training is getting to him and he's excited. You really don't know. Then his head turns, and you turn your head as well, making dead eye contact with him for only a moment before he's looking past you into the crowds, taking in the moment.

When you finally get out of the extremely public eye and back into the building you exited from, you feel like you can finally breathe again. Not fully, in the tight, rigid suit they had you dressed up in, but more than you realized you were with all that yelling in your ears and lights in your face.

"District Five, right?" Rafe asks you as you're both stepping down and you nod. "Jeez, you don't talk much, do you?" He follows up with, taking a water bottle from someone who's walking by with them.

"I talk." You reply quietly. "Just... not much to talk about at the moment."

"The shock? Yeah, that'll do it." He nods, taking a sip from the water bottle and holding it out to you. You shake your head and push it away, making him shrug. "Shitty bust when you're not a volunteer."

You just stare at him, taken off guard by the comment. "That being said..." He leans in closer to make sure no one else hears. "I've been waiting my whole life for this, so don't ruin it for me, yeah?"

You pull back away from him and just nod again, not wanting to get on his bad side already. He won't be the one to kill you, probably, but it would still be nice if you spent your final days without your teammate hating your guts. "Thanks, darling." He smirks, patting your shoulder and brushing past you to go to the elevators.

The next day, bright and early yet again, you have your first day of training. You're sure Rafe won't even need it, but you certainly will. Your mentor told you he will likely be using it to size up the other tributes, especially considering there is a staggering amount of them this year, and you will need to focus on survival skills. Only survival skills, if you had to pick one thing- and your mentor drove that into your head until it was all that was echoing in your mind when you entered the training center.

After the trainers speech which ironically tried to do the same thing, you beeline straight for the fire making station. You're shocked to see almost no one else listened, definitely none of the boys, mostly lining up to show off their physical strengths, likely to try and intimidate each other. You'd be lying if you said it wasn't working.

You look up as you hear echoing laughter coming from the other side of the room, eyes scanning over the wall lined with silhouette targets, and racks with an array of weapons before landing on your teammate, laughing away with the other career tributes over a joke you didn't hear. He's got a spear in one hand, leaning his weight on it as his head drops back with laughter. You shake your head to get back on task, rolling the rough wood in your palms in hopes of making a spark. Good to see at least one of you is having fun, especially in your final days.

After a few minutes you get it, sitting back into your calves where you were kneeling on the ground, taking a breath of relief as you're satisfied with your success. You glance around to see how others are doing, giving a small smile and wave to Maisie when you see her, reading a book about different edible plants and trying desperately to memorize every image. You watch as Rafe takes the same spear he was leaning on before, hurling towards one of the targets. A direct hit, right in the chest, slightly right of the centre. You jump a little at the sound it makes on impact, looking finally at the boy who threw it.

He's pacing, huffing and looking a little frustrated with himself. A little to the left would have been perfect, but it was a kill shot nonetheless. There would be no coming back from that, and you count yourself lucky that it likely won't be you in place of the target in the games.

You quickly put out your fire and try again, making sure you've got the hang of it. You'll sit here all day if you must. After three more successful attempts, you're satisfied for the day, deciding you'll return to that station tomorrow and try again. You get up and brush the dirt off your knees, trekking over to where they have supplies to make game traps. You've never done this before, but there's no better time to learn, especially since your teammate has shown no interest in survival skills so far today.

"What are you doing?" Suddenly Rafe is standing behind you, as you're once again kneeling on the ground attempting to get the trigger on your bladeless trap to work.

You jump a little, startled by someone talking to you. "Uh, trying to make a snare, I think." You answer, turning to look up at him.

"Looks good." He nods, crouching down next to you. "Uh, isn't there supposed to be a blade or a spearhead or something on that piece?" He says, pointing to it.

"Well, yeah, I just didn't want to stab myself by accident." You laugh slightly, trying the trigger again- and this time it works, snapping forward into his arm.

"Ouch, yeah, fair enough." Rafe chuckles, rubbing the spot on his arm where the wood made contact.

You just nod and begin to reset it to test it again. "What if you can't get any of this shit in the arena?" He asks.

"What, a stick?" You ask, hitting the trigger one more time, sending the stick into his arm again, which he had decided not to move.

"Ow! Yes, a stick. We don't know what it will look like." He rubs his arm, examining the trap you built closer now.

"Then we're screwed I guess." You joke, leaning back on your calves again, watching him dissect it piece by piece to figure out how it works.

"So, is this like, your thing?" Rafe asks, and you tilt your head at him as you think it over.

"My thing?" You ask, unsure entirely what he meant. "I've never made one before, if that's what you're asking."

"Really?" He seems shocked by this.

"Uh, yeah, really. Unfortunately for you, you got paired up with someone who has zero survival or combat skills."

Rafe looks at you, a smug grin crossing his features. "Ha ha, very funny." He clearly thinks you're joking, but you're definitely not.

"I'm serious." You say, confused as to why he doesn't believe you.

His smile falters, replaced with wrinkles of confusion on his forehead. "But- I just watched you look at the instruction book for no more than like, three seconds before sitting down to make this."

"And..?"

"If you've never done it before it's supposed to be harder than that."

"Well, I've seen other people do it on TV and stuff every year for like, ever." You shrug. "I've just got a good memory, I guess."

Rafe nods, looking at the deconstructed trap in front of him for a moment, thinking about the implications of this. How far does this go? Could he use it? He'd never dreamt of having to work in a team in his games, but maybe it would benefit him after all. "Come with me." He stands up, and you follow as he paces over to two big screens, covered with a large array of different symbols.

"Try this, I just want to see something." Rafe says, standing next to you with his arms crossed as you quickly look over the screen, reaching down toward the one in front of you. You notice quickly that the screens mirror each other, all the images placed in the same spots as they are above. You look up at your teammate briefly who nods at you and then you tap one, watching it disappear from both screens before you tap the matching symbol. It's a matching game.

Your eyes are locked on the top screen as you tap away at the bottom one, quickly making all the images disappear one by one. It takes you no more than a minute to get rid of them all, and then a timer appears on the screen replaying your every move in real-time. Forty-two seconds. Were you really going that fast?

"Neat." Rafe says to himself, nodding as he watches it replay on the screen. That was impressive, sure, but his mind is straining to find a practical implication for this in the arena. "Go back to survival stuff. Learn as much as you can." He settles on, turning and walking off back to where he was before, returning to combat training.

The four days of training fly by insanely fast, and that's likely due to your dread of what's to come. you've got through everything in survival no less than three times, and you're pretty sure last night you dreamt of plants and making a fire. Not surprisingly, Rafe has left you pretty much alone the whole time, but you did watch from a distance as he cycled through every weapon the training center had to offer, proving he's almost mastered every last one. Of course, with over ten years of training, anything less wouldn't make sense. What scares you is the other careers showing a similar skill level to that of your teammate, but he seems to be on good terms with them. Again, maybe this would be a good thing in the beginning of the games.

You sit down for your last day of making fires and fishing hooks, working solely on memory since day one, you're feeling pretty confident that the elements or exposure won't be what takes you out- but you don't know if that's a good thing or not. You just hope your death will be quick.

"Y/N, c'mere." Rafe is suddenly calling to you, motioning for you to join him in the combat area. Not seeing much of a choice, and not looking forward to another day of doing the same thing over and over, you listen.

You make your way over, avoiding the gaze of other tributes who are looking at you like you're about to make a fool of yourself. It's possible you are. "I want you to learn how to use this." He says as you walk up, holding out the handle of a knife to you.

You take it, turning the sharp blade over in your hand. "I thought you were the weapons master." You joke, looking up at him briefly.

"Well, I need you to make fires and shit so you have to stay alive somehow, and if we get separated or something I need to know you can at least defend yourself. These are good from a distance and up close, but remember that any weapon you have they can take and use against you. So keep distance whenever you can." He answers, pointing over to the target about fifteen feet away. "So, throw it."

You look over to where he was pointing, adjusting your grip on the handle as you nod, taking in the information he's dumping on you. He is probably right, especially since you don't think he plans on protecting you himself. Why would he? If you die, he can still win without you.

You lift your arm over your shoulder, closing one eye to narrow down your aim before throwing it hard towards the target, which the knife bounces off of and clatters to the ground. You and Rafe both turn at the same time to look at the group that's laughing at you, the clang of the metal on the cement echoing loudly in the vast space.

"Don't worry about them. They're not there." Rafe is quick to grab another one, handing it to you the same way. "Try again, this time, hold it like this..." He says, grabbing your hand and placing your fingers in the correct spots on the handle. "Keep your wrist tense and straight, don't flick it or anything. Yeah, like that." He nods, taking a step back.

You look over how you're holding it, committing the feeling and finger placement to memory before raising your arm again. You throw it again, and this time it sticks, but your aim is off and it ends up in the target's leg. You look over at Rafe, unsure if you're hoping for approval or just satisfaction. "That's perfect." He nods. "Not a death blow, but that'll buy you time to get away. which is all you need."

"Okay." You agree quietly.

"Would it help if you watched me?" He offered, already grabbing a new knife while you nod. "So, you want to follow through with the throw, your shoulders should end about here if you're doing it right. You get more power that way, and better aim." He explains, standing with one foot forward, parallel to the target.

You step back to watch his strategy, noting the way he held the blade and his form when he aimed to throw it. He lets it fly from his fingers as his shoulders fall forward, smirking to himself as it hits the bullseye circle, right in the chest.

"You got it?" He asks, standing up straight again. You nod in response and he's handing you yet another knife to try again.

You go back and forth for hours, not caring that you're keeping anyone else from practicing. You're not the best at it, but it's become muscle memory now, and every time it sticks, most of the time hitting the silhouette somewhere. You tried the moving targets briefly, the gold, pixelated figures running at you quickly. You were immediately overwhelmed, and Rafe ended up having to step in to help. He said after that the minimal skill you had would be good enough to get away, and that is all you would need. You just have to focus on that.

You didn't talk a lot, besides taking a few short breaks to gather the knives and his arrows as Rafe explained the pros and cons of every weapon they had present, showing you briefly how to use some of them. Mostly how to defend yourself against them. It's hard for him to sum up years of training in one day, but he's dead set on the idea that you won't need most of it- just having to focus on keeping the two of you sheltered and fed, he can handle the rest; hopefully.

You sit outside the training center next to Rafe, waiting for your name to be called. It was the youngest female tribute from his district first, so if you had to guess, you would be third and fourth to go, which doesn't buy you a lot of time to decide what to do to best show your skills.

"What are you gonna do?" You ask, whispering in the deathly quiet room.

"Huh?" Rafe hums, leaning closer to hear you better.

You clear your throat, before speaking this time, unsure if you were clear enough. "What are you gonna do? Like which skill?" You clarify.

"Oh, uh..." He mutters, adjusting how he's sitting as he thinks about what to say. "I'm just going to cycle through some different weapons, different distance targets, I think. My mentors want me to show like, a variety of what I can do."

You nod at this, making a mental note of that. Maybe you should do the matching game and then try the knives. Opal told you that you would be scored both individually, and as a team. You hope you won't bring down his score too much, since you know he's aiming high. You planned on going for a mid-level score, not to be seen as a threat but also not as an easy kill. A perfect six would be your ideal score. "What about you?" Rafe interrupts your thought process.

"I'm not sure." You answer honestly.

"You should do your survival stuff. That will improve our team score, if we show them we have strengths at both." Rafe suggests. That's not actually a bad idea. Your individual score will likely be lower, but that's a risk you're willing to take.

"Yeah, I'll do that."

You ended up scoring a six, the judges obviously not seeing you as any kind of threat. This is what you expected, though, and you were correct about your group score as well. Rafe and you together scored a ten. On his own, he scored a ten, so you hadn't affected it in the way you feared. This left you reeling over the idea of other tributes seeing you both as a threat as you stand in yet another extravagant dress, waiting in line to be called out for your interview. The games were tomorrow, and the last thing you wanted was to get in front of a crowd and subtly plead with them to let you live, to send you gifts, and to give you their sympathy.

So far it's been in the same order they called everyone for assessments yesterday, which means you would be next. Rafe stands behind you, arms crossed in a suit that looks more expensive than any you've seen back home in all of your life, but he looks comfortable in it. Your dress is once again covered in rhinestones, and your waist is cinched in so tight you can hardly breathe as it is, so you're not looking forward to going on stage.

"Our next tribute, welcome to the stage from District Five, Miss Y/N Y/L/N!" You hear the familiar voice of Caesar Flickerman calling you out and some guards usher you forward onto the stage, very briefly glancing over your shoulder at Rafe.

You're quick to smile as you turn back around, giving a small wave to the host and then out to the audience as they cheer for you. For a brief moment, you feel as if they don't plan on watching you die as early as tomorrow, you feel as if they're rooting for you. "Hi!" You say as you get closer and Caesar stands up to greet you, shaking your hand and giving you a quick hug before gesturing for you to sit down across from him.

You look around the large theatre, spotting every camera you can. Your family is out there watching, somewhere, and you know they'll see right through this show you have to put on. You wish they wouldn't. You can picture so vividly your living room back home, with your parents and siblings scattered across the couch and the floor watching you with bated breath, they can see you- and on some level, you can see them too.

"Miss Y/L/N. Thank you for being here." Caesar sighs, reaching out and patting your hand where it sits on the armrest next to you.

"Well, I didn't have any other plans for the night, so..." You shrug, making him laugh. Laughter echoes from the audience and you smile, hoping that your plan to win people over is working.

"What? A beautiful girl like you?" He asks after he's done laughing. "You weren't planning on spending some of your free time with your teammate?" As if you got even a minute of free time since you've been here.

"Well, I guess we'll never know." You chuckle, looking back at the boy where he stands in the wing, giving you a small smile.

"Now listen, Y/N, Rafe is..." He has to stop after mentioning his name as cheers erupt again, laughing as he waits for the audience to quiet down. "Your teammate is, as you may have guessed, a popular face in the Capitol right now. Are you feeling lucky about your pairing?"

Rafe crossed his arms as he watches intently, feeling smug about his odds, especially now knowing the Capitol's opinion of him. He knows his dad is back home watching, full of pride that his son has become a fan favourite.

"I am." You answer honestly. "He's very talented."

"And handsome, don't you think?"

"I mean, who am I to argue with the people?" You joke, waving your hand dismissively as you hear the cheers pick up again. "Besides, his looks won't save us. We will save ourselves." You add seriously.

Caesar nods in acknowledgment, showing that to an extent, he agrees with you. "Well, I hope that you are right, dear." He smiles, getting up to signal you've run out of time. You stand as well, taking his hand as he holds it up above your heads. "It was so lovely to meet you, and may the odds stay ever in your favor. Y/N Y/L/N, everyone!"

You smile and thank him quietly, waving to everyone with both hands as you walk across the stage to exit on the other side. You take a few deep breaths as you step into yet another waiting room, watching the screen as Rafe is called out right behind you.

Rafe sits down on the chair across from Caesar after his introduction, which allows a few moments for the audience to quiet down. He smiles proudly as he rests one of his feet on his other knee, bouncing his leg with anxiety. He hopes it's interpreted as excitement. "Rafe." Caesar smiles at him, sitting back down as well. "I'll be honest, I have been so excited to finally meet you."

"It's good to meet you too." Rafe grins, chuckling slightly at the few whistles he gets scattered from the crowd.

"You got a fabulous score, how are you feeling about that?"

"Really good, yeah. Obviously I've been waiting my whole life for this opportunity, so it feels amazing to see it all paying off." Rafe answers, focussing on keeping the confidence in his tone.

"We can tell, can't we?" Caesar laughs, riling up the audience again, making Rafe laugh to himself as he softly shakes his head. "Yeah, yeah. So, with all this planning you've been doing, how do you feel about getting paired up? You probably expected to be going in solo."

"I did, for sure, but I don't think this is a bad thing." Rafe admits.

"Oh, getting along well with your teammate?" Caesar asks, a hint of suggestion in his tone.

"Yeah, we get on really well." Rafe exaggerates your relationship a bit, knowing it will earn you more sponsors, and maybe keep other tributes away from you in the games. "At least I think we do, I'm not fully sure about her thoughts on me, though."

"You scored incredibly well together, despite Y/N having a fairly average score on her own. What are your thoughts and feelings on that?"

Rafe chuckles as he leans forward a bit, pointing out to the audience as he speaks. "Don't underestimate her based on the score. I won't give you any spoilers, but trust me, don't overlook her. She's got as good a shot as any of us. Maybe better."

Caesar makes a surprised expression as he nods. "Well okay! Does she have some sort of secret weapon we should be worried about?" He chuckles, gripping the armrests and looking around as the audience laughs.

Rafe just shrugs in response, smirking slightly, which you can tell the audience just eats up. You're trying to decide if this is good or bad for you, though, as you watch, gnawing at your nails in anticipation as you stare at the screen.

"Okay, alright, don't spoil anything then." Caesar laughs. "It'll make for a better show, and I can get behind that."

After a moment of waiting for the cheers to die down, Caesar speaks up again. "Rafe, if I can ask, I know your father has a lot of influence in your district- how is he feeling about your selection for the games?"

You furrow your brow a little bit as you look at the screen, finally learning something interesting about your teammate. If he's from a prominent family in District One of all places, that would certainly explain his attitude. Rafe, on the other hand, doesn't want to talk about his father at all- but of course they would bring him up.

"Yeah, of course." Rafe replies, shifting in his seat. "He's thrilled, it's a huge honour to be here, and to be the first out of his children to be chosen is really special to me. I just hope I can make him and my sisters proud, he's always encouraged us to volunteer."

"I'm sure that you will." Caesar smiles at him. "I hope I will have the honour of hosting one of your sisters on this stage one day, as well."

Your stomach churns just watching this. How can any father who loves his children want this fate for them? This was your father's worst nightmare. You watch as Rafe nods with a smile, and you can see behind his eyes that he doesn't want that, not at all.

The audience cheers as they both stand up, shaking hands before Rafe leaves the stage, a cocky smirk on his face as he waves and winks at the audience. Before Rafe makes it down to the waiting room, you're grabbed an escorted out, heading for the elevator back to your room.

You can't eat, but you know you should. This will likely be your last meal for a while. You decide on just taking a large bowl of fruit and toast to your room, trying to get it down slowly with all the nerves, while you have a bath. Your parents never let you eat in the bath. It's hard to get out knowing this is likely the last bath you'll ever have.

The morning goes by in a blur, you feel Opal's arms around you as she hugs you goodbye and wishes you luck. You know you'll need all of it. You stare down at the ground in front of you as you're pushed onto a plane, of sorts, along with all the other tributes. Once you're sat down, you look around at everyone else. You remember all of their names as you scan over their faces, but you wish you didn't. You get stuck on one of the girls from District Eleven, Hope, who was only thirteen.

She's shaking, and you can see that from where you're sat down the row from her. She reminds you of Rue, the tribute from last year. Her death was a tragedy, it broke the hearts of everyone outside of the Capitol and the career districts. Hope's curly hair sat in a bun on top of her head, and tears fell down her cheeks as she sniffled. She got paired up with a girl from Twelve- the lengths the Capitol will go to to make a mockery of last years games will never cease to amaze you.

"Hey, you look a little pale." Rafe whispers, leaning close to you. You didn't even notice him sit down on the other side of you.

You shake your head slightly, looking down at your knees. "I'm fine."

"Don't think about it." Rafe instructs you, holding his arm out for the tracker to be injected as a guard approaches with the device.

You wince as you hear it get shot into his arm and he chuckles, shaking his arm off to ease the sting. You raise your shaking arm as they hold their hand out expectantly to you. You don't know what it is they're putting in you, but you've never been fond of needles. This is a million times worse. "It's not that bad," Rafe tells you, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you feel pressure on your forearm, followed by a sharp, stabbing pain. You bite your tongue to keep from making a sound, dropping your arm onto your lap as they quickly walk away.

"What did they do?" You ask him, trying to keep a steady tone.

"It's a tracker, so they know where we are in the arena." He explains quietly. You were the only two talking, and you notice it's earning you glares from several other tributes. Rafe notices this as well, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms, taking this time to size everyone up.

The plane takes off, and before you know it, you're landing at the arena on the outskirts of Capitol property. You wonder if you're close to the ocean, not that you'll get to see it anyways.

You're paraded off of the plane, still trying not to let it show how afraid you are of what's to come. You make the briefest of eye contact with Maisie as she's pulled towards a different hallway, and neither of you have it in you to smile anymore.

"We've gotta get supplies, that's our first move." Rafe says to you as you're led out of earshot of other tributes, into your own hall.

"My mentor said to run." You reply quietly.

Rafe scoffs, shaking his head. "Your what, one mentor said that? Cool. I have fifteen that are still alive and well enough to show up every year. I think we should get supplies." He tells you firmly, but you know that will get you instantly killed, maybe not him, but you stand no shot. "Just stick with me if you want to live."

You just nod a little bit, glancing at him again briefly before you're directed into a separate room across the hall from him. His pedestal will be next to yours, which is a bit of a relief. Your stylist quickly instructs you to strip, and then she helps you into the uniform you assume you'll all be wearing. It's exactly the same as last year, you notice this quickly, but with a '75' logo embroidered on the chest where the District Twelve tribute had her pin placed. Katniss, you remember her name was. She had volunteered for her sister, and at the time you contemplated heavily on whether or not you would do the same. She was so, so close to winning- to getting to see her sister again, but she and the boy from her district, the final two tributes, ended up committing together rather than giving the Capitol their Victor. It was an admirable stance, but you couldn't imagine what that was like for her family, and his.

You step off the concrete floor once you're dressed, instructed to get into the pod that will lift you up into the arena; a glass elevator. Your stylist says nothing to you as they walk out of the room, the glass door sliding shut in front of you. Your knees get weak as you realize you are totally, completely alone, and likely no more than twenty minutes from dying. You think of your family, your siblings, your dad- and the last words he said to you. You'll see him soon.

Your thoughts are halted when the elevator starts to move, lifting you up as the ceiling falls away and you can see sunlight coming through. You squint and shield your eyes as you try to look up to get a better grasp on your surroundings before you can even see anything. Once trees come into view you're frantically looking around, trying to process as much information as you can, and quickly. It's exactly the same as last year, but from what you can tell, flipped in reverse, and made larger to accommodate twice as many tributes. Or everything on camera last year was flipped. There's a silver cornucopia in the middle with the timer that's immediately counting down and supplies inside and scattered around the field in front of you. Rafe is to your right, and a boy from Seven on your left. He scored a six, the same as you, so he's not the biggest threat to you immediately.

You adjust your stance, getting ready to run once the timer hits zero. In what direction, you don't know yet. Rafe wants you to run to the supplies, but statistically, the most deaths will happen in the next five minutes and you don't want any part of that. The supply bags and weapons spread out on the grass are all the same too, by the looks of it. The closest bag to you got picked up by the girl from Seven last year, and it didn't have much of anything helpful. If you're remembering right, it had a rope and some matches, and that was it. It definitely would be useful, but you know you can do better. There should be a bag four pedestals to your right, with a water bottle, an emergency blanket, a fire starter, a first aid kit, and a knife. Right now, that's the one you have to get to. That's your best bet.

Ten, nine, eight... The timer ticks down to the final seconds as you look over at Rafe, who's already looking at you. You point to the bag as your eyes land on it on the other side of him across the field, and he looks at you confused. He's closer, he has a better shot, but you know he won't take it.

Rafe is confused, following your finger and spotting the bag. Why would you want that one specifically? There are others closer, he doesn't feel like now is a time to be picky.

Four, three, two...

Your ears ring with shock as the clock reaches zero, and you're watching most of the other tributes booking it for the center. No one has seen your bag yet as you jump down, beelining across the field and narrowly brushing past Rafe in your move for the small backpack. He stops to let you pass, almost crashing into you head-on. He doesn't have time to worry about you, so he continues on his path to the middle, but he's lost time. Precious time that he doesn't have to lose right at the beginning of the games.

He gets into the bloodbath that the cornucopia has already turned into, looking back over his shoulder quickly as he grabs at any weapon he can get his hands on. He quickly has to sacrifice the blade he just grabbed when he hears footsteps quickly approaching from behind him, turning quickly and plunging it into the boy's chest. He doesn't think to look at who it was.

Cannon's echo around you, and you're counting how many internally as you get to the bag, reaching down to grab it as you run past, trying not to slow down. You look back over your shoulder, hoping to spot your teammate somewhere, but you can't see him. You're scanning the area, blocking out the blood you see flying and scattered along the silver metal of the cornucopia. You can hardly hear any screams over the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You can't help but watch as the girl from Three jumps on who is supposed to be her partner, a girl from Twelve, snapping her neck in a second. Within moments, she just drops to the ground next to her- another cannon following. That makes a strong incentive for working in teams. At least Rafe won't betray you early on.

You freeze up for a moment, stopping to scan your surroundings. You still can't find Rafe, taking in the number of bodies scattered around the cornucopia and a few tributes running into the tree line. At least some people were smart. Something flies past your head, making you jump back a step as you look up ahead of you. Within an instant, you're being tackled back by the body of the boy from your district.

"Y/N, fancy seeing you here." He chuckles darkly while you try and fight him off.

"Don't!" You squeak out, him pressing his forearm down against your throat on the ground.

"I've wanted to do this since the second they called your name." He growls, shoving you down again.

"We can help each other, Jack..." You say weakly, clawing at his arm.

"You don't need me. You've got your career boyfriend- and whatever your secret weapon is." He scoffs. "You don't have a secret weapon, Y/N. He's bluffing and he won't convince us."

You gather all your strength and knee him in the crotch, scrambling to get away as he fumbles for just a moment. "God- you are a bitch!" He shouts, grabbing for your ankle just has you pick up the knife he had thrown at you. You grip it the way Rafe had shown you, quickly shoving it into Jack's leg. You just needed to get away.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" You exclaim, backing away quickly. Jack doesn't say another word, cutting his losses and getting up to make an escape for the woods. You hope he ends up okay.

You make your break for it as well, running back towards the woods as you once again scan your surroundings for your partner.

Suddenly you're on the ground, having run straight into the side of one of the pedestals and falling over it. You yelp with the sudden impact of the ground, scrambling to get up and continue when suddenly someone is grabbing your jacket, slamming you into the pedestal again. You scream, trying to shove them off, but they're much stronger than you. "Jael! Wait, wait- Jael!" You make out your own voice yelling the boy's name, which makes him falter. He's the oldest tribute from Eight- he seems shocked you even know his name.

In the moment when he loosened his grip, he jerks forward and then falls over you, a cannon booming making you gasp as you panic to get away. Rafe is quickly running towards you, slinging the bow he just used over his shoulder and yanking the arrow out of the boy's back. "Y/N, let's go!" He shouts, motioning for you to follow him as you continue toward the tree line, both of you keeping an eye on what's happening behind you as you disappear into the woods.

"Let's stay close, but not too close," Rafe suggests as soon as you feel safe enough to slow down, your chest heaving with the exertion of energy and boost of adrenaline. He glances at you briefly, then does a double take. "You okay? Are you hurt?"

You shake your head, coughing to ease the stinging in your throat. "I'm fine. You?"

"Good," Rafe answers, slowing his pace to match yours.

"We, uh, I think we should go the other way." You say, looking around to try and mentally place where abouts you are.

Rafe stops and furrows his brow at you, seemingly frustrated by your resistance. "Why does it matter?"

"The arena, it's the same as last year. Exactly the same. Just, scaled up a bit." You explain. "We should head south, that's where the river is. We'll need water soon."

Rafe laughs slightly, his demeanor changing as he places his hands on his hips and looks at you. "No shit," He says, truly surprised and impressed that you could tell. A lot of the games tend to look like this, and he would never notice a repeat arena down to the rivers if it punched him in the face. Your 'secret weapon' is already paying off. "And you could tell that right away?"

"Yeah, I mean, I guess so. The bags were all the same, everything was laid out the same. I bet there's a river down south." You nod, having a sudden realization. "We should get to that cave- the one the tributes from Twelve holed up in last year. That'll be a good, stable shelter. We can pretty much wait it out." You say, starting to walk in what you believe is the right direction.

"No," Rafe replies, making you stop in your tracks. "Unless you want me to have to kill you in the end."

"Oh, right." You forgot about that part, keeping score. "We're still going to need somewhere to sleep, though."

"Yeah, we'll find it anyways." Rafe nods, carrying on in the direction you started heading. You follow a few steps behind, keeping a bit of distance in the somewhat awkward silence that fell over you two after his comment about having to kill you.

You walk in the thick of the woods for about an hour before you feel like you're reaching the river. You can feel it under your feet, the soil is slightly softer, and the trees a little more green.

Cannons interrupt your thoughts a few times in the hike, totaling up to twenty-three by the time you reach the riverbank. "You were right." Rafe chuckles, mentally disparaging any skepticism he faced during the long, quiet walk.

"Thank god." You giggle, dropping your bag and crouching down to dig through it, hoping for a water bottle. You were right, everything you expected was accounted for.

"Why that bag?" Rafe says, already sitting down on the rocky water's edge to rest for a moment.

"Huh?" You question, unsure you heard over the shuffling of the bag while you zip it up.

"You pointed to it, during the countdown. Why did you want that one?"

"Oh, uh, like I said they all looked the same as last year, and I hoped I remembered what was inside." You say, laying down to reach into the water and fill up the bottle.

"Were you right?"

You nod with a small smile, sitting back up and holding the bottle out to him as you cross your legs.

"That's actually insane." Rafe shakes his head in disbelief as he takes it, downing just about everything in it before handing it back.

You take it and refill it again for yourself. "I'll choose to take that as a compliment."

Rafe wouldn't admit it, but at this moment as he's watching you drink, he's grateful that he got paired up with you. But now, that it's been shown on national television that you know the arena in and out, he wonders what obstacles the gamemakers will desperately throw your way.

"We should keep moving. I feel like a sitting duck out here in the open, I don't like it." Rafe mutters, checking his attitude as he stands up. You're quick to fill up the bottle again, following behind him yet again as the arrows in his quiver rattle together against his back walking over the rocky and unstable terrain, knife gripped tightly in his hand.

You wonder to yourself how he's feeling about leaving behind his predestined alliance of the career pack, but with the factor of most of them being paired up with other districts, it was already too unpredictable. You wouldn't have stuck around either.

The sun started to set as you followed the river upstream. You didn't want to settle without some kind of shelter, and you were committed to finding that cave before you could relax. You could tell that Rafe had the same idea, his steps ahead of you gradually picking up speed with the bow still gripped firmly in his palm.

"It's a beautiful sunset." You speak your mind before thinking, desperately wanting to fill the silence.

Rafe just hums in response, looking up only briefly before training his gaze once again on the ragged rocks at his feet and continuing on. "What's it like in District One?" You ask.

"Fine." He replies coldly. You aren't sure what you expected, but this response was pretty on par. You knew you had almost no chance of survival, so it would at least be nice to get to know the person you spend your final days with, even if he would be the one to kill you in the end.

"I've never been, but I've heard it's... nice." You've only ever heard about it from the perspective of other bitter individuals from Five, jealous of the cushy lifestyle everyone knew they must have lived.

"Yeah." Rafe agrees, clearly not wanting to discuss it.

"What are your sister's names?" You ask, deciding to push a little bit. It's not like he can kill you just yet.

Rafe sighs, but answers anyways. "Wheezie and Sarah."

You're shocked that he answered at all, but you could tell in his interview that he has a soft spot for them. "Cute." You nod, smiling to yourself. "Is Wheezie a nickname?"

"Yep, it's short for Louise."

"That's adorable." You grin, shaking your head.

"Hey, look. There." Rafe says, changing the subject and pointing down the rocks, where there's a small opening under a ledge.

"That's it!" You exclaim, deciding to drop the topic of his sisters in favour for finding your shelter for the night. You rush past him, watching your step as you climb down into the small cave.

Rafe quickly draws his bow, slowing down and peaking into the cave and bracing himself for your screams. How could you be so careless in a game like this? He doesn't understand your lightheartedness, your somewhat positive attitude, and your ability to make small talk despite the circumstances. "Hey, careful!"

"It's perfect!" You call back out as you look around, and Rafe steps down carefully, looking around more carefully than you had. He relaxes once he's satisfied that there's nothing down there waiting to kill you.

"Nice, okay." Rafe nods to himself, and you both get to work making a small fire near the entrance, hidden from view.

You take off your jacket and roll it up, using it as a makeshift pillow as you lay next to the fire, staring at the orange flicker of the flames you made.

Rafe is sitting across from you, knees tucked up to his chest as he does just the same. His mind is absolutely reeling- he needs to find something to eat, and soon. That will be the first thing you'll do in the morning, he'll have to employ your help to find something edible. "How are you with making traps?" He asks.

"I can do it." You reply, sitting up and leaning on your elbow so you can see him. "I'll set some up in the morning."

Rafe nods a little bit. He already knew you could, of course, but he's wondering about the logistics of how they work. "So like... hypothetically, would they work the same if you made them bigger?"

"Like... human-sized?" You ask, catching on to what he's suggesting. It's not ethical- but nothing about this game is. For you, this would definitely be preferable to fighting other kids to death over and over again.

Rafe nods, adjusting how he was sitting and crossing his legs.

"Yeah. I can't see why not." You answer. "It would be harder since I've never done it, but I think it could work."

"Then I say we try it."

The next day, you wake up as the sun rises and the light beats down on you from the entrance of the cave. You didn't sleep comfortably, that's for sure, waking up twice throughout the night to the sound of the cannon. That's twenty-seven. You wonder how many teams have already reached their ten-kill quota, you imagine someone in the career pack already has. Both times when you were startled awake, Rafe was standing at the cave entrance, bow drawn as he squinted into the darkness, hoping that whoever was out hunting other tributes wasn't nearby.

You sit up slowly, stretching out your tired limbs as you look over to see Rafe, fast asleep with a blade in his hand. You should let him sleep, and get to work on finding something to eat, and making some traps.

You grab one of the knives Rafe somehow collected from the bag laying next to him as quietly as possible, sneaking outside and taking in your surroundings. The sound of the river flowing and the smell of morning dew was amazing- you wish you could truly enjoy it in different circumstances.

You quickly get to work tracking down something to eat, landing on a few different plants you know to be edible. You're trekking through the woods near your cave when you come across an apple tree- making you pause as you look it over. It looks out of place- and maybe no one got close enough to it in the games last time that you wouldn't have seen it, but that seems unlikely. It must be new; it makes for the perfect place to try and set up a trap for the next hungry tribute who would be unfortunate enough to wander too close to your hideout.

You're digging a hole in the ground with your hands, avoiding the roots of the tree and sticking in some sticks you sharpened when you hear a twig snap behind you. You freeze, hoping that by some miracle, it's just an animal. You slowly turn your head to try and look, picking up the knife from the ground next to you and holding it tight.

"Just me." Rafe's voice relaxes you, and you stand up, brushing off your knees.

"You scared me." You admit as he takes to looking down into the hole you just dug.

"That looks... awful." He chuckles, patting your shoulder. "It won't kill, but it'll slow someone down enough that I can finish the job."

You nod slightly, staring into the dirt as well. You hated the idea that you were crafting something intentionally to bring harm to another person, but realistically you have no choice. "We'll set up more, along the riverbed and closer to the career pack. We can't monitor them all at once, though- can you make more fatal ones next time?" Rafe asks, pointing back towards the river to accentuate his point.

"That depends, how many arrows can you spare?"

The next few days saw the death toll rise to thirty-six. You kept track every night, scratching their numbers and names into the walls of the cave despite being able to remember anyway. You viewed it as a small memorial, Rafe saw it as a timer ticking down to when he'd have to kill you.

Your first trap had worked on one person, their screams of pain from a cut-up leg summoning your teammate back to the apple tree. He insisted you stay behind as he finished what you started. You had to reset several other traps as well, closer to the cornucopia.

Rafe would never admit it, but he was really starting to like you. He didn't want to hurt you- he was worried the traps wouldn't do enough. The passive approach you so preferred wasn't what he expected, and he knew his dad would be disappointed in him. But Ward would never understand.

He sighed as he poked at the fire with a stick, leaning his head back against the rocky wall of the cave, another cold night ahead of you.

You had your head laid on his lap, his thigh replacing the thin material of your coat that you had been using the last few days.

"How old are your sisters?" You ask out of nowhere, prompting him to look down at you. He had thought you fell asleep a while ago.

"Why does it matter?" Rafe replies, and you just shrug a little bit.

"Gives us something to talk about."

"Fifteen and Eleven." He relents.

"Hey, me too." You smile a little to yourself.

"You have sisters?" Rafe asks. He never asked much about you- he didn't really want to know, in the case he had to kill you.

"Yep. And a brother." You nod, sitting up a little bit. "He's older though, he aged out last year."

Rafe finds himself clenching his jaw. He can't hear that- to see you as a little sister. He doesn't want to imagine what it would be like to see his sisters face the same fate. "Lucky guy." He says quietly.

"Why? I thought it was a privilege, and all that." You chuckle.

"Well, yeah, but not for most. For the outlying districts like you."

"At least you get it." You agree. "How does it feel? Now that you're here, I mean."

"Scary." Rafe admits, throwing caution to the wind now with what his father will think. "Not what everyone tells you it'll be like."

"Is that because of me?" You ask after a few moments, and he nods slightly.

"Not in a bad way, though. It's just different. I expected to be on my own, to die alone, or kill my allies if I had to. Now... I don't know that I have to. Or if I even could." He can practically hear his father shouting at their large screen at home, or storming out claiming he was an embarrassment. He was told his whole life to never show weakness, to 'be a man', but now, at the end, that doesn't matter to him.

"I won't take it personally." You giggle softly, voice shaking as you try to make light of it. "My family won't either, I don't think. Maybe my dad, at first, but eventually he'll understand. They'll forgive you." You try and ease his mind, knowing that in the case that Rafe does win without you, he'll have to face your family in the next month or so during the victory tour.

"I wouldn't ever expect him to." Rafe tells you, tossing his stick into the flames now. He feels sick hearing you talk about it like it's inevitable- but if he has anything to do with it, you'll be coming home with him.

"They're good people." You assure him.

"Don't say that." Rafe chuckles, shaking his head. "I would never forgive myself."

"Okay, fine. They're awful. Just... the worst." You smile, looking up at him and resting your chin in your hand.

"That's better. Thank you." Rafe laughs, poking your forehead and gazing out onto the river as the flames illuminate the water.

In the morning, you're awoken to something brushing your leg. You groan and roll over, head landing once more on Rafe's extended arm underneath you. At least he was finally getting some sleep, pretty much unable to close his eyes since you set foot in the arena. You feel the brush again, followed by something moving on your arm, several things, suddenly, and your eyes fly open and look down when you remember where you are. You let out a scream, scrambling to sit up and pushing yourself back against the wall.

Rafe wakes up quickly, scrambling for the bow next to him when he realizes it won't be any help. You're surrounded by and quickly almost covered in a sickening combination of snakes and spiders.

You're still screaming, trying to shove the creatures off of you. "Come on- come on!" Rafe is yelling at you, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards the exit. You don't get the chance to grab your back and you regret that as you're jumping into the river in attempt to get the spiders off of your skin and out of your clothes.

You're breathing heavily as you come up for air, and Rafe is quickly there, brushing his hands over your hair to make sure every last spider is gone. He looks back at the entrance of the cave, chest heaving like yours as the bugs and snakes spill out of it. It sends a shiver down his spine- he was never a fan of snakes.

"I guess that's the gamemakers telling us enough was enough." He sighs, gently pulling you towards the shore again a safe distance away. "Are you bit?" He asks once you're a safe distance away.

"I don't think so..." You reply, hiking up the ankles of your pants to look at your calves and over your bare arms as you sit on the shore. "You?"

Rafe shakes his head, doing the same. "It was probably just a warning. We have to move." He quickly lowers his pant leg over the puncture wounds in his leg, hoping you didn't see. If it gets worse, he'll tell you. The bite itself didn't hurt much, so if it's going to be fatal, he's glad he won't have to hurt you.

Rafe helps you up, leading you up towards the tree line. "They probably want to push us in toward the other tributes, I think we should go with it before they throw something worse at us." You, the two of you now left with nothing but what you had on you, along with Rafe's bow and a few spare arrows.

He nods. "It's our best move anyways. How many tributes are left?"

"Twelve including us." You answer quickly. "There's Avril, a boy from six, Maisie, she's from my district, most of the careers I think are still in it but not their teammates," You begin to rattle off the list,

"I don't want to know names." Rafe cuts you off, and you understand why. He's been doing all the dirty work, and part of you knows it's because he's hoping to have time to learn names and feel guilty about it later. Right now, he can't afford to see them as human.

"Right." You agree. "It doesn't really matter, anyways."

"Do you know scores?" He asks, walking alongside you now.

You nod, beginning to list off all the remaining tributes and their scores, from lowest to highest. The lowest being you- and the highest being ten, shared by Rafe and a boy from district two.

After hearing two more cannons that day, and checking all the traps you had set, you're circling back to the river to be near fresh water before you set up camp again. You don't have your water bottle anymore, or anything to set up any kind of shelter with, you do your best. You set up a fire, Rafe insisting that if it draws other tributes to you so be it- he's ready for this to end just as much as you, but you don't want to rush into your death or an ambush. It's safe to say you won't be sleeping tonight.

You didn't sleep, but at least, curled up under a tree, the night sky was beautiful. The stars seemed realistic, and you wondered if somehow they were real. Between the two more cannons that struck overnight, you still wondered if you were somewhere near the ocean, or somewhere closer to home. While you're sitting next to each other in a peaceful silence, both admiring the vastness of the night sky, you hear a ringing sound coming from above.

Rafe quickly stands, reaching for the small silver pack with a parachute before it hits the ground. He's quick to open it as you stand up, looking into the container. You grab the small card, tilting it into the light of your fire to read it.

For our Y/N,

Keep fighting. Please come home to us.

Love You Always, Dad

Tears form in your eyes almost instantly, your hand coming up to cover your mouth. "It's just a water bottle and some kind of granola bars... or something." Rafe says, turning the water bottle over in his hand.

He looks up at you, frowning when he sees how upset you look. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." You quickly shake your head, wiping your eyes. "Uhm, it's from my dad."

The fact that your family could spare enough money to send you something in the games at all was amazing to you. You heard horror stories of the astronomical prices of trying to send something from outside of the capitol, without the status and funds of a sponsor.

"Oh." Rafe replies, handing you the tin and bottle now, taking the card from you gently. He reads it over slowly, and over and over again. His family had seemingly endless amounts of money, and they had sent him nothing. He knew his father viewed it as cheating, and that you shouldn't need any kind of help to win. If he loved him, though, that wouldn't matter. He should be willing to do anything he could to keep his son alive. The way your parents did.

"My mom made these." You sniffle, grabbing a small bar from the container in her hand. "They're my favourite, she only makes them on birthdays or special occasions." You explain.

"That's... that's really nice." Rafe says, putting the card back in the tin. He doesn't know how to handle this, or what to say.

You smile sadly as you sit back down against the tree, placing the tin on your lap as Rafe joins you. "Here." You hold the bar out to him.

"They're for you." Rafe shakes his head, pushing it away.

"They're for us." You insist, holding it out to him again. "They wouldn't have sent two if I wasn't meant to share."

"Thank you." Rafe smiles genuinely, for the first time in weeks as he takes it. He's starving, having eaten only small amounts of meat and plants over the last week or so, so he's quick to take a bite. It's sweet, more so than he expected. He never thought he could enjoy sugar this much.

"No wonder they're reserved for celebrations, hey?" You giggle, having intently watched his reaction.

Rafe nods. "Yeah, it's really good. Super sweet." He says, mouth still full. You grin, satisfied as you take a bite of your own.

The night flew by so quickly, you're feeling as though it must have gotten shorter. The sunrise went by fast too. You're guessing the gamemakers and the viewers were getting antsy. To be honest, you were as well.

Renewed with your energy the sugary baking your parents had sent, you set about gathering food and water, while Rafe goes on to check a few of your traps to see if they needed to be reset. He could do it on his own, but he liked watching you do it, working the ropes between your fingers and tying intricate knots, pulling back on the stick used to trigger the arrow. By the afternoon, having taken a mental note of the amount of cannons that had fired. It was a few, at least. You must be getting down to the end. He prayed it wasn't you, but the cries of some kind of mutts in the distance right before the cannons lead him to believe that you were fine- but he should be getting back soon anyways.

You were wandering down to the water, reluctant to leave your camp, but you knew water was a priority. You were just filling up the new bottle when you heard a scream. It sounded like a boy. You quickly look back over your shoulder, noticing it was nearby. Toward the apple tree. You stand slowly, looking around as you attach the water bottle back to your side with a carabiner, reaching instead for the knife Rafe had left with you. God, you hoped it wasn't him. The absence of a cannon gives you hope, though.

You quietly head in that direction, watching your step so your presence isn't detected. When you get closer to the tree, you hear crying. Painful crying, as you're faced with the reality of the trap you set.

You watch from behind a tree as the boy from eight tries to pull his leg up from the ground, screaming out again as the sharp sticks dig into his flesh. You should go get Rafe- you feel guilty, but you can't kill him yourself. You turn quickly, and before you can get a step away you're face to face with one of the other careers- a sword held up against your neck.

"Don't move." Blake says, a smile that can only be described as evil spreading over his lips.

You try and scream out for help, hoping Rafe was still in earshot but a hand is quickly covering your mouth. "Not yet." He whispers, shaking his head. "We've got a plan, it'll be fun. You wouldn't want to ruin that, right?"

As Rafe gets back to your small camp, he expects to see you there waiting. He scans the trees above him, wondering if you had climbed up for some reason. He calls your name when he doesn't see you, brow furrowed. You definitely should be back by now. As he's heading down to the water to look for you, he hears a cannon, which at this point wouldn't bother him- if it wasn't for the scream that followed after. It was you. No doubt in his mind that it was you. With his bow drawn, he's moving quickly towards where he heard your voice, throwing caution to the wind.

You scream again, crying as the tip of the sword is dug into your shoulder, laying down next to the apple tree. You can't help it- but you don't want their trap to work. You don't want Rafe to come, so you bite your tongue until you taste blood, hoping to keep quiet. "It'll only get worse for you if you don't scream, Y/N/N." Blake scolds you, digging in the blade more. "He has to hear you." He adds through gritted teeth.

You hear a twig snap just outside the small clearing, and Blake is quickly turning to look with the sword still pinning you to the ground. "Rafe it's a trap!" You shout, hoping that it's him.

Rafe steps out then, into full view with his bow drawn as he aims at the boy in front of him. When they first met, he knew they would have been good friends if they met anywhere else. "You won't shoot me." Blake chuckles, and Rafe quickly readjusts his grip.

"I will." Rafe says sternly, pulling the string tighter as Blake moves the sword to hover over your chest. Over your heart.

"If you shoot, the last of my energy will go into killing her. I don't think you want that." He shakes his head, smiling smugly.

"I don't care." Rafe says, making your heart clench. You know that you're friends, at the very least. He does care. He's bluffing- you have to believe that.

"If you didn't care you would have shot me already." Blake calls it, and Rafe tenses up, looking down at you only briefly.

"Then what do you want?" Rafe spits.

"Oh, nothing. I just wanted you to watch." Blake shrugs. "Just makes it a little more fun, you know? But don't worry, you'll be next." You know he just wants to prove himself, somehow, not having scored as high as Rafe did. You wonder if his family was somehow similar- that he needed some kind of approval that he thought he might find through sadism.

Rafe looks down at you again, and you just nod, tears streaming down your temples to your ears. He quickly readjusts before letting the arrow fly, planting straight in the shoulder that held the sword as you quickly roll over, slicing across your chest and shoulder in the process. It was well worth it.

Rafe fires another arrow into his chest, not taking any risks and the cannon quickly follows as he rushes to your side.

"Are you okay?" He's asking, hands hovering above you as he's kneeled next to you, unsure what to do.

You nod, still biting into your tongue as blood continues to slide down your skin, dampening your now torn up clothes.

"It's not that bad." Rafe says, looking over the cuts as best he can, but you wince when he pulls the fabric away. "You're gonna be fine, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah..." You mumble, letting your head fall back against the brush below you. Rafe is quick to take his coat off, using it to push down on the deepest part of the wound on your shoulder, trying with his other hand to apply pressure to the rest of it. You try and focus on your breathing, rather than the pain, but it's hard when a significant amount of weight is being applied to your shoulder and chest.

"I'm sorry, I have to." Rafe tells you, jaw tense as he lifts his coat to check whether or not the bleeding has slowed. You didn't even realize you were crying.

After a few minutes, he's lessened the pressure a bit, still holding the fabric firmly over your skin. "You could have ran." You mumble, voice hardly above a whisper.

"I wasn't gonna leave you." Rafe shakes his head, gently peeling away his now blood soaked windbreaker.

"You at least shouldn't have saved me. Not much point in that, is there?" You smile softly, trying to sit up and Rafe is quick to help.

"There is. You have to win." He mutters.

"I'm not winning, Rafe." You smile sadly at him. "Infection will kill me if you won't, and if no one else does first."

"No, they'll fix you up. This cut will be gone in a week, the technology they have is-"

"Rafe." You grab his attention again and he looks up to meet your eyes. They seemed to suck in all the light of the sunset above the two of you, reflecting back at him in a way that makes his breath hitch. The thought is cut short, however, when you say something that breaks his heart. "Don't give me hope like that."

"Why? You're gonna go home. I mean it." He promises. "I'll make sure of it."

"I don't think we have enough." You remind him sadly, a small smile still evident on your lips as you reach up to cup his cheek in your palm. "I never expected to go home. I'm okay with that."

Your friend shakes his head softly. "That doesn't matter. You have your family to get home to, I read that note from your dad. They need you, I can see that. For me, these games are all I was raised for. I have nothing left for me after this." He admits, avoiding eye contact with you.  "I could never forgive myself if I didn't get you home."

Tears are forming in your eyes again as you look up at him. The world is watching, and in this moment of vulnerability you feel that more than ever- despite the quiet sounds around you being only the rushing water in the nearby river and the birds chirping around you. "You're a good person, Rafe." You smile at him, watching as he gently raises his hand to yours, grabbing it in his own. "I hope you know that."

In this moment, you settle on the idea that you would die for him. You never understood last years tributes, honestly, how they were willing to die for each other instead of getting home to their own loved ones, but now you do. Completely.

Without a second thought, you find yourself leaning closer, Rafe doing the same as he kneels next to you in the dark. Your eyes meet once more, lips only an inch from touching when you hear a howl in the distance, and you snap your head to the direction it came from. "The Mutts... Already?" You say, scrambling to get up and ignoring the pain in your shoulder.

"I- I heard them earlier, they sound far away." Rafe says, trying to calm you.

"You heard them? You didn't tell me?" You ask, frantically grabbing his bow from the ground and handing it to him as he goes to pull the discarded arrows out of Blake's body.

"I didn't think it mattered!" He defends, trying to hide the panic in his voice.

"There were four left last year when they sent them out. I think... yeah I think that's right. There's four of us. We have to run." You say in a panic, pulling on his hand. "Our best bet is making it back to the cornucopia."

"It'll be too open- can't we climb a tree or something?" Rafe says, following after you as you're running through the bush now in the direction of the open field.

"I don't know if that will work, but I know we'll be safe there." You explain like it's obvious. "We have to risk it- and if you can get to the others first, if they have the same idea, we'll be at ten."

You're out of breath already, adrenaline pushing you through as you hear scattered barking getting steadily closer after one more cannon. Part of you wants to stop, turn, and force Rafe to take the win if you couldn't have it, but with any hope left, you have to try and get back to where this started. The traps was an unfortunate choice in how you got your kills, because you couldn't keep track of how many since by the time you got around to checking them, the body's would have been airlifted off if it wasn't a misfire. If you had to guess, though, you were sitting at eight.

Rafe is running similar calculations in his head as he lets you lead him by memory straight to the field, mind short-circuiting as he sees the silver moonlight reflect off the cornucopia.

You sprint across the open field, blood pouring from your undressed wound again with the intense exertion of energy. Rafe doesn't pass you, though, despite you expecting that he would. You have tunnel vision as you make it to the metal structure, practically slamming into it before you can even stop. Rafe is quick to lift you and shove you up, both of you looking over your shoulders as you struggle to hold onto the edge, kicking the sides to hold yourself up.

You finally get up, reaching down to help pull Rafe up. He grabs onto your arm for leverage, mostly pulling himself up and you wince as you feel the tension from his weight in your cuts.

You flop down onto your back on the cold surface as he climbs over you, immediately standing up with bow drawn as he intently scans the surrounding area. He's only got the two arrows left, which makes him nervous if that's all he has to defend the both of you with.

You try to settle your breathing, which only lasts for a moment until the sky lights up with the recap. You miss your cave, where you could contribute to your memorial, especially seeing the face of Maisie flash above you on the sky while the anthem plays.

You close your eyes, just listening to the music now until you hear barking just outside of where Rafe can see, and you're quickly sitting up. He draws the bow tighter, aiming in the direction the howls came from just as someone pushes out into the clearing. Rafe is aimed straight at them, bow string pressed to his cheek. He's getting dizzy, and quickly. His aim can't fail him now, he doesn't have that option.

You watch them, in the dark you think it's the other boy from district one, and in your exhaustion you can't remember his name. You wouldn't dare say it, anyways. He's screaming for help, a call you know you can't answer, and you watch as they stumble on their feet, shoes and hands digging into the ground as they try to get up, just ten or so yards from you by now.

Rafe wants to shoot just then, it would be as simple as letting his finger loose and the arrow would fly towards its target. It would be a merciful end for the boy he's trained with for years now, only a couple years younger than him. The muscle in his jaw is aching from the tension he's put on it when he forces himself to let go. He has to do it, for himself, if he wants to go home.

He misses. The yelp of one of the mutts tells you it landed in a paw or back, and you look up at Rafe who's already drawn his second. "Rafe!" You cry out, pushing yourself up onto your feet and standing behind him now.

He hates to admit that your empathy has rubbed off on him. Watching you every night carving seemingly endless names and numbers into the rocks that lined the space you stepped in. He recalls waking up one morning and seeing your name and his carved in as well, closer to where he laid by the fire, his underlined and yours with a heart at the end. Like a signature on the top of a math test. He had wondered if you always wrote your name like that, and in this moment as he releases the bow again, he knows he has to find out for himself.

It happened so fast, the mutts knocking down the boy and the arrow flying from Rafe's shaky hands into where he should have been right as the cannon sounds. You don't know that it was Rafe's arrow that did him in.

"No..." You mumble, clamouring forward and onto your knees again to look over as the boys body is torn apart by the mutts. "You had to have done it. You had to." You say, trying to get a better view.

In a second, Rafe's arms are around you and he's pulling you back from the edge, sitting now behind you with his arms wrapped tightly over your body. "It's okay.. it's over." He mumbles, kissing the side of your head as the sunlight comes over the trees. He's fighting off the urge to vomit, everything spinning around him now.

You sit with him, gripping onto his arms and crying. Nothing is happening, so you must not have made it to ten. You feel sick- your heart is in your throat and suddenly you're really hot, moving away from him to look over the edge again, this time incase you have to throw up. You freeze, looking over to where the boy's body once was. The second arrow was in the ground. He missed again.

Rafe sees it at the same time as you. He sighs, hanging his legs over the edge. "Shit... Y/N, I'm sorry." He mumbles, gently reaching over to rub your back.

"No, no. It's okay." You insist, sitting up next to him. "I knew this would happen."

"I'll get you home." Rafe says, sliding down the side of the cornucopia before you can stop him. He stumbles the landing, swaying in his walk as he heads towards the arrow lodged into the dirt.

"Wait! Wait, wait, Rafe!" You're sliding down after him, running to his side and grabbing his arm before he can get to the arrow in the ground.

He turns to you quickly, hand on your cheek and he's pressing his lips to your forehead. "Sit with me?" He asks, knees already giving out as he falls to the ground.

You're instantly on the ground beside him, practically holding his head up with your free hand as you search him visually for some kind of injury.  "What happened? Are you hurt?"

"Uh, I guess so." Rafe mutters. "Snake bite. I think."

"You didn't tell me? I could have fixed this, I could have helped..." You ramble on, his eyes dropping shut now. "Hey, eyes open."

"It's okay. Just sit with me..." He says again, smiling weakly. "Wait with me... please?"

You nod, sniffling as you fight back the tears that want to fall. "Yeah, of course. I'll stay."

Before he closes his eyes, the music starts again and your eyes are drawn up to the sky after you notice Rafe is looking first.

Then, begins a similar slideshow of faces you recognize. Ten in total. Rafe's eyes flicker with slight recollection, remembering any kills he made himself and you gasp when you see Jack. Whatever damage you had done when he tackled you on the first day must have killed him. "Rafe.." You mumble, lowering your eyes to meet his. "I think we won."

Your point is accentuated by the voice of the head gamemaker over some unseen speakers. "Introducing the Victors of the Seventy-Fifth Annual Hunger Games!"

"We did it." Rafe laughs weakly, squeezing your hand.

You fully ignore the aircraft hovering down in front of you on the grass, turning your head to look down at him. You don't say anything, neither of you do, and you finally feel your lips against his. The kiss is bad, it doesn't really work when both of you are stuck smiling ear to ear, but you don't care one bit. The only thing that matters is that you got this chance at all.

Rafe pulls away from you slowly, using all the strength he has left to lift himself onto his feet as you steady him. "He needs help!" You shout to them, and you're quickly being lead onto the plane.

"They've got really good technology," You mock what he said to you just the day before. "It'll be like it never happened in a week, okay?" You chuckle, feeling waves of happiness, worry, and relief all at once as you quickly wipe away a tear with your free hand, other arm wrapped tightly around Rafe's waist to hold him up.

He laughs, and you lean into him more, your forehead against his shoulder as the aircraft door slides shut behind you.

taglist: @bookishbabyyy @madelynie, @whore-4-drewstarkey, @slut4drudy, @winterrrnight, @totalswag, @sadfury @fullfledgedemo @rafemotherfuckingcameron, @urfaveluvr, @chenslucy, @hxnnah-397, @s-we-e-t-t-ea, @tahliac11, @saccharinesammie, @ietss, @maybankslover @redhead1180, @suzyheartsrafe, @wpdailyminimeta, @aegons-bitch, @rafegirly, @lovelyxtommy @dee127

[exhuastedpigeon]

Hiatus Buddie Fic Rec - Month 2 June 16 - July 15

Here's the second rec list! Here's my favourite fics that I've read that were posted between June 16 and July 15

0-5k

if your heart wears thin by devirnis / @devirnisGen | 986 words He knows the shift was disheartening, but the little rain cloud of gloom that’s been hanging over Buck’s head since he fell in the water has Eddie mildly concerned.

You with the dark curls, you with the watercolour eyes by thewolvesof1998 / @thewolvesof1998

Mature | 1.6k The morning after Buck and Eddie finally get together.

Stuck On You by rosebuddiekin / @giddyupbuck

Teen | 2.5k Eddie jokingly gives Buck stickers that have positive saying on them, but it quickly gets out of hand.

Not A Trick of the Mind (Only Love) by Bookbee, JJK / @trenchcoatsandtimetravel & @painting--words

Teen | 4.2k Buck wakes up in hospital with amnesia and thinks Eddie is married to someone else.

I could spend the whole day just gettin' by by rowan_wood / @transboybuckley Gen | 4.4k “I’m sick,” Buck said, eyes closed, when he could sense Eddie reached the loft. (Sick fic)

Find a remedy by BladeoftheNebula Teen | 4.7 Buck and Eddie tell Christopher they're dating. It doesn't go well.

5k-10k

Of Sound Mind (And Memory) by henry988

Not rated | 6k In the hours after Buck is struck by lightning, Maddie is faced with retrieving the last will and testament of her brother, just in case. Together, with Eddie, they learn more about their brother and friend.

give me a sign, I want you next to me by 42hrb Teen | 7k The 118 knows Buck has a really cute kid and a partner he loves, they just think that partner is his husbands ex-wife.

we don't need to play games like these (you won me long ago) by withmeornotatall / @chronicowboy Explicit | 10.4k five times buck was turned on by Eddie's complete lack of rizz and the one time he realised what his new kink was for

10k-20k

you been looking for love (let me show you how it's done) by wikiangela / @wikiangela Explicit | 12.2k Eddie is a tease, Buck is horny and jealous of Eddie dating, and a regular evening takes an unexpected turn.

Sixth time's the charm by CorgiQueen14 Teen | 14.2k The mid-lawsuit time loop fic.

20k - 30k

in the night we trust by glorious_spoon / @glorious-spoon

Explicit | 29.2k Eddie and Buck start sleeping together when they're all stuck at Buck's place during lockdown. It still takes them almost three years to notice that they're in love.

30k +

i know you're gone now, but i'll still wait for you by roephobic Teen | 32.1k the one where Buck leaves and Eddie breaks down.

you and i'll be safe and sound by spaceprincessem / @spaceprincessem

Teen | 50.8k buddie hunger games au

Evan Buckley & The Coma-Verse of Madness by Daisies_and_Briars / @cal-daisies-and-briars Teen | 57.9k After being struck by lightning on a call, Buck experiences a plethora of alternate realities showing him different directions his life could have taken. Fighting hard to get home, Buck learns what, or who, is important to him in every lifetime.

i love you (and i like you) by withmeornotatall / @chronicowboy Explicit | 64.4k he parks and rec au in which buck is leslie and eddie is ben feat. gay penguins

a body, a knife, hold steady by bvckandeddie (zukkababey) / @bvckandeddie Mature | 67.4k Buck and Eddie meet, fall in love, build a life together, and discover they're rival assassins—exactly in that order.

[dinasfavslut]

LoserEllie x Fem!reader

a/n: This fic was supposed to come out in late August or early September, so I am a month late, and I'm sorry. I hope you enjoy it since I've spent a while on this (I started writing and never finished).

Warnings:smut 18+ Minors just dont interact, Smoking, Sexual thoughts, Cussing, Pet names, Teasing, Oral, Fingering, Slight mention of strap, Squirting

Everyone is aware that Ellie smokes; we have all seen it. Of course, there are also the dealer Ellie fics, which I absolutely love, but just picture Ellie making reader squirt for the first time while high!

Ellie calls you over for the "usual" hangout of smoking, fighting while playing the latest video game she purchased, exchanging lust-filled glances at each other, and taking turns going to the restroom to deal with your neediness so you don't pounce on one another. The typical predicament continues.

"Okay, how about a crash bandicoot?”

She places the joint between her soft pink lips and says, "I mean, it's whatever." Her fingers, god, her fingers, her hands, and how she flexes them after spending long hours writing or drawing, playing the guitar, rolling blunts and joints—you could go on and on...and on—is almost down to her fingers when she takes another drag.

You two have long been "friends." Everyone in town knows that you and Ellie are more than "just friends", but as far as the relationship goes, it isn't dating or just a friendship, and that kills you. You like Ellie; you really like her, and smoking enhances that feeling toward her. Additionally, it also helps to want to get pounded by her right on the couch.

She had already loaded the game and begun playing while you were still deep in thought. She was so engrossed in her game that you could see her thumbs and fingers pressing and moving the various buttons. "I'm going to get a snack, Els. You want something." She gave a brief glance over, not straining her head from facing the TV. Her gaze seemed to remain fixed on your body as you stood up, pressing your thighs together as you did so.

"Yeah..." You entered the kitchen in search of a bite to quell your hunger. You discovered cookies, popcorn, Cheezits, and wet wipes after searching the cabinets. Why were wet wipes kept in the snack cabinet?

“Ellie?” You gave her a concerned-confused look as she held up the wipes.

“What?” She looked at you, and you just waved around the wipes.

"Uh, well, keep the ants away.”

“Where the fuck did you hear that?”

“I read it or something somewhere... But that isn't a snack, bubs.” Obviously, the wet wipes weren't a snack. You walk over to her and straddle her lap.

"I'm not going to make you eat the wet wipes." Your thoughts had returned to what had just been said a few moments prior: "Wait, Ellie Williams, do you have ants!?" She gave you a dumbfounded look like a middle school boy who had just been scolded. "You have ants when you were about to let us eat food from your cupboard?"

"Calm down, baby. The wet wipes carried out their duties."

"And how do you know that?"

"I didnt hear any screaming that you saw an ant," she said. She shifted into a new position, pushing her hips a up little higher. You noticed this bump or something rigid. None of those properly expresses what you felt. The bulge in her pants was pressing directly on your clit while you were seated on Ellie's lap. You were soaked through, which was unfortunate for you. You were wet before, of course, but now it was leaking through.

Ellie picked you up and set you down next to her, but she quickly noticed the mess you had made beneath yourself. "You, um, do you need any help with..." you nodded quickly in order to get to you something you have been waiting ages for while also stopping her from finishing her sentence she laid you down in front of her, lifted up your skirt to let it rest on your torso, and pulled off the green underwear you had chosen to wear that day, which of course would need to be washed. "Just relax for me; it is okay, I’l make it feel good, promise". You trusted her i mean why wouldnt you- your trusted ellie with yourself at least, so when she kept kissing the inside of your thighs, you didn't question, but you did whine.

“Els please” 

"Right, I'm sorry." She gave you her silly little smile before returning to her task at hand. Her lips were almost immediately attached to your clit. You whimpered and gasped loudly from her movements. The effects of the weed haven't faded quite yet, making all of Ellie's movements feel 10 times better, but let's be real, it's Ellie fucking Williams, and you've been wainting for this forever.

“E-el-” She slid her agile, calloused fingers into your cunt, causing you to let out an exasperated gasp, followed by a loud moan. You tilted your head forward to see her face. Her eyes were stuck to the way you just kept dripping and how her fingers were being swallowed up so easily.

“Ive got you, babe. Lay back for me. Can you do that for me, pretty girl?" Responding to her request, you nod and lay down. The pace of her fingers quickens, and she hits a spot that makes your head feel light and your tummy coil.

 "Els, please." Ellies, ignoring your pleads, having lust take over. Completely, you feel yourself about to let go at any minute, any second, but it's not like all the times you've fingered yourself to the thought of her before. Ellie's mouth on your clit,  her fingers thrusting out of you, you moan louder than you even knew your voice could handle. She continued quickening her pace until she drained everything out of you. You “came” all over her hands, face, and couch. She pulled her head back and paused for a moment. “I-I am so sorry, I didn't mean.”

She places her finger over your mouth to hush your apologies. "It's alright, angel; I know you couldn't help it.” You were embarrassed by your actions, but somehow, even though she had a big mess that she had to clean up, her reassuring words made everything fine. She leans right over you and places a kiss on your lips. “I think I'm in love with you. Actually, I know that I'm in love with you. I love you, bubs.”

"I love you too Els."

[maggiecc]

When the World Shifts (Finnick O’Dair x reader) Part 2

Finnick O'Dair x reader

TW: It's about the Hunger Games, so murder, talks of death

You have been made shorter than Finnick, but it's not important. Do I include Y/N?

No Betas, we die like vikings.

Part 1, Part 2 (here), Part 3, Part 4: TBD

The day of the reaping came all too soon. The days leading to the reaping were filled with training, for Finnick, and you, as well as everyone taking shifts with Annie. If you were with her, Finnick trained with Mags, if Mags was with her you and Finnick trained, and if Finnick was with her, you and Mags trained. Annie had fallen back into many of her old patterns from the months after her games, if she did not have one of you to ground her she would start to scream and rip her hair out. You worried that when you and Finnick left, Annie would only have Mags but she will know where you are and you are unsure if Mags will be enough.

“Are you ready love?” Finnick pulls you from your thoughts. You take a breath in to steady yourself.

“Does it really matter?” You attempt to joke, but your words hold much truth. It doesn’t matter if you are ready, the reaping will occur and you will soon be on a train to the capitol, whether or not you like it.

The District 4 victors all gather together to walk over hand in hand. You walking next to eachother, Finnick, you, Annie, and Mags stepping onto the stage together. You looked at the bowls, the left had 3 pieces, and the right had 1; seeing them making it feel all the more real. 

The capitol representative who had drawn, Annie’s, Finnick’s, and your names walked up to the bowls. He began his long-winded speech from the capital all about the importance of the Hunger Games and how significant the quarter quell is. It was a summary of what Snow had said, and that speech was already burned into your brain. You start to disassociate from yourself, it had been so long since the last time time you had been at the reaping in person. 

After your victory, you tried to go to the reapings to meet the tributes after they were reaped to help comfort them, but it became too much. No matter how much you tried the tributes were outmatched by the careers. So over the years, you had to stop going, seeing the names pulled and looking at the faces of the children who were lambs to the slaughter became too much. Sometimes you still dream of those first few kids, 

Coral was only 14 when she was chosen, and had a smile that could light up a room. She made you a bracelet you still wear on your wrist, made of dried fish bones and odd-shaped shells. She went in with Moss, a soft-spoken 16-year-old. You grew up on the same road as him, his older brother even went to school with you. He did not have hope for himself but spent the game trying to protect Coral. They lost their game by a sneak attack while they slept, leaving you a wreck for weeks. The only comfort you had was they went fast, a mercy not many receive in the games. 

The next was Annie, and although she won the loss of her partner hurt you as badly as the first two you lost. Annie winning was both a blessing and a curse, it let you keep Annie but the next 2 years held hope which only made the pain hurt more. After losing 4 more tributes you eventually stopped going to the reapings. You wanted to be there to help the kids but the mental torment was simply too much. Finnick trained, them and Mags the group after, you returned to join the rotation knowing that it was hard for Finnick and Annie as well.

Your reminiscing was cut off by someone grabbing your hand. You turn to look a the source of the warmth and comfort. Finnick looked down at you and tried to give you a comforting smile. It was like he read your mind and knew what you were doing, and he was probably doing the same. You all knew not to get too attached but it was impossible to look a those young kids and not care.

“It will be alright, love” Finnick attempted to comfort you, but you could not even muster a response, only being able to squeeze his hand.

“We shall let the men go first,” The host announced, laughing as he pretended to search around the bowl, but there was only one name. You knew what the host was about to say but you still flinched upon hearing it. “Finnick O’Dair!” 

The host began to clap and District 4 reluctantly joined in, out of respect for their only male victor. Finnick gave the cameras a wave as he walks to the side for the next name to be called.

“Alright, now for the female tribute!” The host was loud and excited, so clearly capital. He saw this as some sort of game but the districts knew the truth. These were murders, children slaughtered for nothing, a war they weren’t alive for. “Our female tribute is . . . Annie Cresta!” Your heart sinks. Annie broke out in tears holding herself as she begins to weep. You knew what you were about to do, knew she wouldn’t enter the games but hearing her name still hurt her.

“I VOLUNTEER!” You scream tears starting to form. Mags begins to wrap Annie in her arms as you walk over to join Finnick. 

He wraps you in a hug and leans to whisper in your ear “We will make it out, I promise.” You nod your head and wipe your tears.

You move to stand side by side and grab Finnick's hand. You raise it high above your head for your District to see. All of District 4 began to cheer for their victors, turned back into tributes. They finally have a reason to have hope, both of you were survivors and maybe you could have a chance, that they would not have to watch more of their people be slaughtered for entertainment. You had the same hope, maybe you could make it out, maybe both of you could.

Once you were able to walk off the stage you run to where Annie and Mags stood. You wrap them up in your arms, and Finnick does the same holding all three of you. Your little family, the only people who truly understood you was being torn apart. Annie grabbed both you and Finnick, gripping your arms to the point her nails dug into your skin but you ignore it. She is still crying but not screaming anymore. She lets go of your arms and grabs your heads to put them to her. She was unable to speak but you understand what she is saying. Annie lets out a soft laugh and you know that she cannot control it.

“We will make it back to you, I promise,” Finnick tells her. You don’t know if she believes him, or if you do but she lets go of your heads. She grabs your hands to give you one last squeeze followed by Mags giving you both a soft touch to the cheek and a smile. 

The peacekeeper starts to head towards your group, a sign you had to leave. Their weapons stayed in their hands, not pointing towards you, but the threat was clear. You are leaving now.

“We’re coming you grunts,” Finnick told them as he turns to walk. You begin to join him but quickly turn your head around and mouth, I love you to the woman. Annie turns into Mags' arms as her weeping returns.

You turn to look up to Finnick, seeing him tensing upon hearing Annie’s cries but not being able to hug and comfort her. You grab his hand and squeeze it, making him look at you. “We got this. Mags will take care of her for when we come back.” you try to comfort him.

He gives you a soft smile that does not fully reach his eyes “Of course my love. They don’t stand a chance against us.”

You nod your head, then turn forward to walk, hand in hand with Finnick, knowing that whatever you are going to face you will at least be with him.

[scarthefangirl]

Giving to the poor

Hobie brown x G/N!reader

Request: hobie with a ballerina reader who is also a HUGE bookworm-dont ask me where the idea came from because idk either lol- I kinda just wanted to see how that would maybe look?

Warnings: none? Mentions of theft

Story type: Headcannons

A/N: Not my best but please read my other fics!!

Masterlist | REQUESTS OPEN

You and Hobie don't have a ton in common

You are graceful, very sweet, and a little more awkward

Hobie is a little more- bold and rough

But you two couldn't be a better pair

He loves your smooth and sophisticated fighting style, thanks to your ballet

He thinks its hot how you almost make fighting into a dance, and can whoop anyone in heartbeat

You encourage him constantly to take up ballet, insisting that it'll do him good

"Football players do it! It helps balance and control, and you'd look fine in a leotard." You always plead

"I don't need help, I'm doin' just fine love. But I certainly would look good," He always says

In secret he'd probably watch ballet tutorials to see if its for him, to make you happy

He is FLOORED when he finds out how often you have to replace ballet slippers

"Every 6 months? That has to be so expensive!"

Just wait till he hears that you also have pointe shoes that get replaced every few months...

He will start to time out when you buy shoes and buy them for you

He listens to you rant about your terrible dance teacher and fellow ballerinas for as long as you want, nodding in agreement about how horrible they are

He'll do yoga with you (although he's not very bendy) to keep you flexible and let you laugh at how bad he is

As for your reading addiction, Hobie finds it adorable

The way you gasp and yell at your books as you read, your facial expressions that convey the emotion of the chapters, your particularity for how books should be handled, everything

He isn't the biggest reader but if you hype up a book he'll definitely check it out

You guys bond over ones you both like

"I like hunger games. We need more katniss's in the world to stick it to the man!" He says after finishing the series

Dystopian books make him mad and go on lectures about how the real government is just as bad and deteriorating and loves the wah you'll go off with him and agree and listen

Sometimes he loses you around headquarters and looks EVERYWHERE for you

Loses trust in everyone

"Have you seen them? Come on, think would ya? Yes you have, I know you have!"

Only to find you in an empty room either reading or practicing your ballet

Either way, he leans on the door frame and admire you until you notice him

"If you're gonna sneak away darlin' you could at least tell me, I worry." He scolds but smiles and sits next to you.

Hobie LOVES making people uncomfortable

He'll admire you fighting and just yell out how hot you are or how turned on he is, not caring who hears

He'll make out with you in front of anyone, anytime.

On a different note, when you obsessively buy books he wants to stop you but he can't because you look so cute with the way your face lights up at each cover

"I've been wanting this one!" Or, "I have this one but this is a different cover!"

He isn't all for traditional gender roles but he will pay for your stuff, just because he loves you. He lets you pay for him sometimes if you offer

He sometimes sneaks a book out, stealing it just because he hates the way you insist on following rules

"Here, I took this one for ya," he says

"Hobart Brown!" You scold but can't help being happy for the book

"What? I'm stealing from the rich," he gestures to the book store. "And giving to the poor," he ends, gesturing at you.

He gives to 'the poor' a lot

If you ever talk about a book to him that you want, it randomly appears on you bookshelf

~

Sorry for the abrupt ending lmao

Tags: // @liliummz // @themarvelprince // @misselsbells06 // @american-sataness // @cr0ssoverf4n4tic // @depressednoob // @cerene-ciderr // @leighanne03 // @inluvwithfictionalwomen // @singhfae // @mythixmagic // @itsyourboymicheal // @Ravensinthedaylight // @dai-tsukki-desu // @url0calw3irdo // @daisydark //

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[sequinsmile-x]

The Games We Play - Chapter 1

She’d survived the very worst a person could, lived through things that still kept her up at night, the screams of other innocent people ringing in her head as sleep evaded her.

She’d survived so much, but she didn’t think she’d survive leading him to his death. 

A Hunger Games AU

-x-

Hi friends,

Well here it is. The crowning jewel in my crown of insanity. The most unhinged AU I've ever come up with.

I had this idea months ago when watching The Hunger Games, another one of my hyperfixations, and I started teasing a few people saying I'd write a Hotchniss AU based on it. Then I started getting close to a couple of milestones on here...both hitting 2 million words of fanfic and 1,000 followers on tumblr. So I said I'd write this when I hit those milestones.

Both happened yesterday.

So, here we are. I really hope you enjoy this, I've worked really hard on the story and making it fit for our beloved CM characters as well as the setting of The Hunger Games.

The next chapter will be up in a few days. For now it is set as 4 chapters, it might turn into 5 if I get a little carried away.

As always, please let me know what you think!

-x-

Words: 2.5k

A full list of warnings can be found on the series master list

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

“Emily, it’s almost time to go.” 

She sighs as her mother calls out for her and she closes her eyes, blowing out a shaky breath before she looks at herself in the mirror. She runs her fingers through her dark, perfectly curled hair, making sure it was lying over her shoulders. The dark green tea dress her mother had picked out for her came down to just above her knees, the colour of it complimenting her skin tone. It was velvet, soft and clearly expensive even just to look at, her appearance at odds with almost everyone else in her district. 

She looked every bit like the Victor she wished she wasn’t. 

It had been three years since she’d won. Since her name had been called out in the town square, the murmuring of her peers around her, whispers that ‘the mayor's daughter’ hadn’t even been safe fading out as she walked to the stage. In her worst moments, the timing of her mother’s reelection, something that looked unlikely at the time, and her reaping felt suspicious. The mayor’s daughter going into the games and becoming the first Victor for the district in a quarter of a century had won the election in a landslide. 

It wasn’t lost on Emily that even if she’d died in the arena her mother would have likely won again anyway.

She liked to think that her mother hadn’t put her life at risk for a small grab of power, that she hadn’t made some deal and bartered her 15-year-old daughter’s survival like a chip in a poker game, hoping no one saw her bluff. She liked to think that, but she knew enough about how it all worked, had seen enough in the Capitol since becoming a Victor to know that power was the most important currency in this country. Instead, Emily actively ignored the truth laid out in front of her, knowing that in order to maintain appearances she had no other choice.  

She’d won, but sometimes she wondered if she’d ever left the arena at all. 

She looks at herself in the mirror one last time, smoothing her hands down her dress, her palms lingering over where the large scar on her abdomen was, the injury that had almost killed her. It was unsightly, something that made her wince whenever she saw it, but she stood by her decision to not have the Capitol remove it. She wanted to remember every day what she’d survived.

“I’m ready.” 

The walk to the town square is familiar. She’s sure she could do it in her sleep, a death march she’d been part of her whole life, something she’d done long before she qualified for the games in the first place. She felt a sense of relief that her friends would age out this year, that this was the final time their names would be in the draw, their 18th birthdays always coming with a sigh of relief because it was the last time they’d stand there, their breath caught in their lungs as they waited to hear their name called out. 

It feels like a weight is lifted from her shoulders when she spots Dave the moment she steps into the town hall. He was her mentor and friend, the only other victor to ever come from their district.  The only other person who knew what it took from someone to win the games and come home alive. 

“Hey kid,” he says, pulling her into a hug, one she returns gratefully. She freezes when she hears a throat clear from behind her, her mother’s disapproval at the father figure in her life something she’d made clear. Emily smiles tightly at Dave as she pulls back from him, and she conceals a smile when he winks at her, “You ready?” 

She blows out a slow breath. None of this ever got any easier. Having to stand on stage in silence, a fake smile painted on her face, as more children were picked for a death they’d done nothing to deserve. The screams of the parents constantly echoed in her head, never quite going away. They always came back with a vengeance when the tributes died and she knew she was going home on an empty train, with no way she could possibly comfort anyone.

She’d become a cog in the machine that she hated, and she wasn’t sure how she’d ever escape. Her victory and her biggest crime both wrapped up in surviving, in pulling herself out of the pit she’d been thrown into when she was 15. 

“Yeah,” she breathes out, pressing her lips together as she lets her mask slip into place, “I’m ready.” 

___

He has to encourage this brother out of the house. 

His father was passed out drunk in the living room, and his mother was close to hysterical at the thought of Sean being old enough to go into the games now, a level of emotion Aaron didn’t ever remember her showing for him. 

He wraps his arm around Sean’s shoulders as they approach the town square, and he feels the 12-year-old tense, his body tight with a fear that Aaron remembered well. It was a feeling that oddly faded over the years, leaving him almost apathetic now, the reality that this was the final year he’d have to do this almost lost on him until his mother mentioned it in passing that morning. 

“It will be okay Sean,” Aaron says, stopping to look at his brother, a smile he hopes is reassuring on his face, “It’s your first year. People rarely get their name called on their first year.”

Sean nods and carries on walking towards the signing-in point, “Will Mom and Dad come?” 

Aaron sighs as he ruffles his younger brother's hair, “Mom probably will. Dad’s…resting after a long day at work yesterday.”

“I’m 12, not stupid Aaron,” he says, and they come to a stop again before they both join their respective lines, “You don’t have to protect me anymore,” he shrugs, a playful smile spreading across his face, “If the government think I’m old enough to die for entertainment, I’m old enough to know Dad is a piece of crap.” 

Aaron chuckles and shakes his head before he ruffles Sean’s hair again, wondering when his little brother had grown up, “Don’t talk like that.”

Sean shrugs him off, any remnants of nerves long gone, “See you after?” 

He nods, “See you after.” 

Aaron sighs as he signs in, not even flinching as they take a drop of blood to confirm his identity, and he then walks over to the holding pen for his year group. He pauses for a moment when he spots Haley, his smile tight as their eyes meet. They’d dated for the last couple of years but ended their relationship recently, a difference in opinion on what life would hold for them once they were free from this pulling them apart. She smiles back, offering him a small wave before she turns back to her friends, and he finds a place to stand. 

He looks up as the doors to the town hall open, the usual anthem playing out through crackly speakers set up around the square. His gaze is immediately fixed on Emily, her beauty as distracting as it always had been. 

He’d known her all his life. She was from the other side of town, but they’d always gone to school together. She was nice, and funny and beautiful, never using the fact she was the mayor’s daughter to try and gain favour or popularity. If anything, she seemed to butt against the privilege it would give her, constantly pushing boundaries. They were friends for most of their lives, and always spent as much time together as possible. He’d been in love with her, always convincing himself that one day they could be more than friends. 

Then she was reaped and everything changed. 

He’d watched the games closer than he ever had that year, looking out for her as much as possible, always feeling a strange sense of elation and fear the moment he saw her. When she won he was happy, delighted that she’d survived, that he wouldn’t have to imagine a life without her, but she came back different. Changed by the things she had seen and done in the games. 

She never returned to school, the life of a Victor seemingly a busy one, and her initial attempts at spending time with him faded away once he started to date Haley. Their friendship changed by circumstances beyond their control. He’d aged out of school just a few months ago and soon as he’d turned 18 he’d got a job alongside his father. 

Aaron missed Emily, even though she was right in front of him, and he wanted to fix things one day, to be whatever she needed.

She always looked like she needed a friend, her life as lonely as it was busy, her only real company these days found in David Rossi - the only other Victor from their district. 

Their eyes briefly meet, her’s flicking towards him, a brief smile flashing across her face before she continues to look forward, stoic and strong in a way she’d been since long before he stood hopelessly in this very spot when her name rang out around them.  

He’s drawn back into what’s going on around him, all the explanations for why this was happening, the price they were paying for a war fought and lost long before they were born. The enthusiasm with which the woman from the Capitol explained it all always got his shackles up, her brightly coloured clothes and hair as out of place as her zeal for selecting teenagers to send to their deaths. 

Emily had told him once, fresh back from the games, her clothes stuffed with padding to try and hide the weight she’d noticeably lost, that the woman’s name was Penelope. That she was actually nice, albeit misguided, and that she’d been one of the few people in the Capitol Emily had been able to get along with. 

“Ladies first,” Penelope says, reaching into the giant bowl, dipping her hand into the pile of slips of paper, a literal hand of fate dealt to someone standing in the crowd. She picks a slip and unfolds it, stepping back in front of the microphone, “Kate Joyner.” 

Aaron looks over at Kate and sees the momentary panic flash through her before she steps away from the crowd and walks over to the stage. She was 17 and in the year below at school, someone he’d always got along with any time that they interacted. He feels guilty for the flash of relief that rushes through him when he realises this means Haley was free, that she’d never be at risk of going through all of this again. Despite everything, he still loved her, had still imagined a future with her, and he was happy she’d get to have the life she deserved and wanted. 

He looks back at the stage and sees Emily reach out and touch Kate’s arm as she stands next to her, a brief thing he’s sure no one else would notice unless they were looking right at her. It’s a moment of comfort, something that he’s sure doesn’t even touch the surface of what Kate is feeling. But it’s something. A reminder she isn’t alone in this. 

At least, she wouldn’t be alone until the moment she stepped into the Arena. 

“And now for the gentlemen,” Penelope says, and Aaron feels his breath catch in his chest, the few moments it takes her to pick a name seem to last a lifetime, everything drawn out into slow motion, even the breeze in Emily’s hair, loose strands moving in the wind with more freedom than any of them had ever had. Penelope picks up one of the slips of paper and unfolds it, “Sean Hotchner.” 

It takes a moment for Aaron’s brain to catch up, for him to realise what’s happened. He snaps his head to where his brother is standing. He can see from where he is that Sean is panicking, that tears are flooding his eyes as his peers step backwards from him, making it clear to everyone exactly who he is. It seemed unfair, cruel that his brother had been picked on his first ever time when this was Aaron’s sixth time going through this process. 

Aaron doesn’t think about it, his body moving on autopilot, his desire to spare his brother from this, to save him in a way he hadn’t been to save him from their father, driving him forward. He’s standing on the path leading to the stage before Sean can even start to walk towards it, and he sucks in a deep breath, before he says two words that he’s sure all but sign his death warrant. 

“I volunteer.” 

___

She freezes as she watches him walk out from where he was standing. She already knew what was about to happen. He was brave to a fault, foolhardy with his own safety, and he loved his brother. He held everyone he cared about in higher esteem than himself. His almost subconscious desire to protect everyone around him even to his own detriment something she’d known about since they were small children. 

He’d once taken the blame for damaging a vase in her mother’s house that she’d broken, claiming it was his fault that it had fallen from the table it had been sitting on even though it was her who had knocked it over. He’d teased her about it for years, and winked as he told her that owed him one.

Emily can’t help but stare as he walks up the stairs to the stage and stands next to Penelope.

“A volunteer, how exciting,” Penelope says, her exuberance something Emily cannot find comfort in for once, “What’s your name?” 

“Aaron…” he says, clearing his throat, “Aaron Hotchner.” 

His name rings out around the town square, a death rattle he was ringing himself. One that had led so many to their demise before him. The last few years it had happened under her watch, and it takes everything in her not to gasp, to continue to play the part of the victor she’d been for three years now. 

She’d survived the very worst a person could, lived through things that still kept her up at night, the screams of other innocent people ringing in her head as sleep evaded her. She’d survived so much, but she didn’t think she’d survive leading him to his death. 

Not when she’d been in love with him for as long as she could remember. 

-x-

Tag List:

@ssa-sparks, @ptrckjcne, @lyds102, @glockleveledatyourcrotch, @hotchnissenthusiast, @danadeservesadrink, @ssamorganhotchner, @emilyprentissisgod, @notagentprentiss, @freesiasandfics, @emilyshotchniss, @thecharmingart, @paulitalblond, @hancydrewfan, @camille093, @whitecrossgirl, @moonlight-2-6, @rawr-jess, @florenceremingtonthethird, @jareauswife, @ms-black-a, @beebeelank, @aubreyprc, @zipzapboingg, @psychopath-at-heart, @criminalmindsgonewrong, @fionaloover, @kinqslcys, @prentissinred, @ccmattis-22, @denvivale317, @thrindis, @hotchsguccitie, @cmfouatslota77, @alexblakegf, @aliensaurusrex, @prentissxhotch, @emobabeyy, @victoiregranger, @stormyweatherth, @wanderingdreamer009, @ssablackbird, @luhwithah, @lex13cm, @prentiss-theorem, @dont-emily-me, @mrs-ssa-hotch, @jocyycreation, @itsmytimetoodream, @hotchnissgroupie, @controversialpooh, @capsshinyshield, @canuck-eh

Join my tag list here!

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

Can you make a list of fics where prim lives, she could have never gone to the capital or survived the bombing just in the end she is alive, please and thank you

Hello!

Sorry, this took some time! I knew there were some out there and wanted time to gather them but I still struggled to locate them so I'll be updating as I find more!

Burned Bread and Wilting Petals-SpringSagittaria (ao3) Summary: This is an alternate post-Mockingjay story. Changes were made from Mockingjay: Peeta was never hijacked, Finnick survives, and Prim isn't injured in the Capitol bombing- Peeta is. Katniss is still forced to remain in District 12 while Peeta is stuck in the Capitol. She’s devastated and misses him. The story starts 1 month after Katniss, Prim, and Haymitch arrive in District 12. There are lots of happy changes, but Peeta deteriorates mentally. It will get better, but slowly. Curious Kat-MissprissHG (ff.net) Summary: While on the Victory Tour, Katniss suddenly becomes very curious and Peeta is the only one who she feels safe enough to ask. Will he answer her questions? Will he show her what she wants? Find out how Katniss explores her newfound sexuality with Peeta. Mature content. I'd Fly the River-loveleee (ao3) Summary: Haymitch sighs again. “Well, no point in dragging this out. I got a phone call yesterday.” He pauses. “The boy’s coming back.” (Prim didn't die, Katniss didn't burn, Gale didn't sin…and Peeta comes back to District Twelve three months after the end of the war. Post-Mockingjay AU.) Sing You Back Home-thesweetnessofspring (ao3) Summary: After the war, Katniss returns to Twelve with her family and Gale following close behind. When Haymitch tells her that Peeta plans to move to District Four after his therapy is complete in the Capitol, Katniss has to figure out how to rebuild her life without her dandelion in the spring. “We had to be. In the Games…” I stop, unable to go further. I can’t speak of it. I’ll fall apart if I do. Instead I concentrate on the slanting of the sun through the window, but somehow even that feels connected to Peeta, of our day lounging on the roof with the sunshine in our hair. A day that we’ll never see again. I was supposed to be dead, though, for those days to end. “Yes. Yes, those horrifying experiences you two had together. You had to depend on one another during those times.” “Always,” I whisper. “Not just when there were cameras. I always needed him.” Slaughterhouse (Seven) Five-quothme (ao3) Summary: "Our next move," Peeta says, "is to kill me." 7 things that should have happened at the end. Slow and Steady Wins the Race-PoppedTheP (ff.net) Summary: Over the years he waits to stop feeling like a five year old with a crush around her. He doesn't. AU. Prim & Peeta weren't Reaped. Without Hunger Games throwing them together will Peeta get a chance with his dream girl? Oneshot. Moments from their lives. Sure thing-kardamon Summary: "She remembers fire. Not the comforting fire glowing at the hearth that provides warmth and light during long winter nights or the exhilarating, beautiful flames Cinna used to dress her into, but angry, scorching blaze of explosion that burns everything to the ground. Sometimes she thinks it was white-hot and blinding. Sometimes she’s sure it was red as blood. Sometimes she cannot get rid of the idea that it was black and cold and swallowed her whole." (the one where Prim lives)

Happy reading!

As always, if you have any questions, comments, or suggestions please feel free to send an ask!

-E

[moonlightspencie]

The Fulton Project

Description: The knowledge of an FBI operation gone wrong has the world as the BAU knows it turning on it’s head. How does something like this end after months of civil unrest?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader (but honestly the relationship aspect comes like 3rd in levels of importance to this story lol)

Warnings: violence, non-graphic major character deaths (2), implications of suicide, ANGST, (kind of an unreliable narrator, but in an im-traumatized-and-not-thinking-straight way)

Word Count: 4k

A/N: this is me speedrunning a ya dystopian novel to be honest. i wrote it all at like 1am after watching the entire hunger games series lollll

We were gathered around my desk one morning, everything feeling so normal that day. I wish I’d have known then that I wouldn’t get to experience it again. I would have appreciated it more.

“I don’t know. Strauss has been acting super weird. Like she knows something we don’t,“ JJ stated, leaning against my desk.

“What’s new?” Morgan asked with a snort.

She rolled her eyes. “It’s like she’s afraid of something. I don’t get it. She never acts scared of anything.”

I sat with that sentiment for a moment.

“Has anyone asked her?” I inquired. “I know we don’t like to talk to her if we can help it, but if this is serious—“

“I don’t think she’d admit anything,” JJ responded.

“Maybe Pen can dig something up,” I said, just as Hotch strolled in.

“Dig something up on what?” he asked.

“Strauss,” Morgan said curtly. “JJ said she’s been acting all weird lately.”

“Is that new?” he said, giving his barely-there smile.

“That’s what I said!” Morgan yelled out, going back to his own desk.

JJ mentioned something about seeing Penelope, and I watched as she dragged Emily with her. I started on my consultations for the day, and was only interrupted when Spence came up to my desk with a new mug of coffee.

I smiled, taking it from him.

“Thanks, love.”

“Of course. It looked like you needed a little energy boost,” he noted, watching me for a moment. “Do you want to go out tonight?”

I glanced up at him. “Where were you thinking?”

“That Thai place you love?”

I smiled. “That would be great.”

“Do you want to leave after work tonight, then?”

“I’d love nothing more.”

The day went on quickly, and finally getting to have a night that was just Spence and myself was a welcome reprieve from all of the casework we’d been doing. He always seemed to know how to lift my spirits, even when the world was upside down. He did his best, time and time again, to be there for me in whatever way possible.

We were asleep in his apartment when we got the early-morning call. Spence answered the phone, face dropping. I only heard a muffled, panicked rambling on the other end from Pen’s sweet voice. He assured her that the whole team would be there as soon as possible, then turned to me when he hung up.

“Garcia found something big. We’ve gotta get to work.”

We rushed over. I drove as Spence contacted the rest of the team. He immediately went to meet her in the conference room as I double-checked that nobody else was in the bullpen. When I was sure, I started up the stairs and towards the conference room.

“Here,” Penelope’s voice said, quietly as I neared the doorway.

I walked into the room, seeing her look like she’d just seen a ghost. She gave me a quick glance, then excused herself from the room.

“Is she okay?” I asked Spencer.

He only shrugged, unsure. Everyone else filed in within the next couple of minutes. He looked over everything Penelope had given him, sorting through all of the things that were worth reading for the rest of us to see. He only slowed his roll when he started nearing the end.

“I think I found something,” he said.

Prentiss sat up straight. “What is it?”

“It’s called the Fulton Project,” Spencer said, scanning over the rest of the file. “I don’t think this is what it seems.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, pretty boy?” Derek asked, half a smirk on his face.

Spencer wasn’t smiling, and it seemed that Penelope’s exit from the room made much more sense now.

“This is… How did we get this file, again?”

I stood from my seat, circling around behind him.

“Penelope found it. It used to be encrypted, but the last time it was opened someone got awfully irresponsible. She found a way in,” Prentiss said, looking across the table.

I scanned it as she told him, horror building.

“I thought the CIA was the one that did stuff like this,” I whispered finally.

They all gathered around to see what I meant, each person’s attitude turning sour the further down the page they got. However accidentally, we’d uncovered something huge. An entire operation dedicated to not only “silencing” agents, but civilians as well. It was like some sort of twisted men in black for governmental secrets. And it didn’t end there. The torture methods described in order to brainwash people or garner information were on par, and even worse, than the unsubs we hunted down every day.

“What do we do?” I asked.

Instinctively, everyone turned to Hotch. He looked at each of us for a few moments before answering.

“We take it down.”

We went for a few weeks, uncovering as much as we could under the radar. More information than I ever wanted to know came to light, but we had to make a really solid case before we could bring it to a court. It turns out there was more corruption that we’d thought possible after the first file we had seen. Framings and assassinations and brainwashing and making people disappear. It was all too much. Then, Hotch had an idea to light a fire under the bellies of those involved.

I took a deep breath as I stepped up on the podium. Reporters stared me down, all scrambling to get close.

“Good evening,” I began, trying to tune out everything but my own voice. “We’ve— I’ve prepared a statement on the events that occurred today, and over the past few years, really. After an inside investigation, we have reason to believe that the Fulton Project, headed up by Richard Jones, Mark Stein, and Amelia Sanchez has been an elaborate cover-up for operations within the FBI that we as a unit do not stand for. However, these are only allegations, so please let that reflect on the record. We will keep you all updated as we learn more.”

A million questions started being thrown my way, but I felt Hotch take my arm and guide me back off the podium. He started walking me into the building.

“Good. That was good,” he noted quietly. “The sooner this gets out, the more likely it is that we’ll be able to take them down.”

I breathed deep as we stepped into the elevator.

“Are you sure this was the right move? You and I both know this likely runs deeper than the FBI.”

“It’s going to work out just fine,” he said, not glancing in my direction. “After today, everything is going to change.”

I was told that me going on the news to release that statement would be fine. Hotch reassured me that nothing bad would happen. He told me it was the right thing to do. He told me that speaking the names wasn’t defamatory because we weren’t actually accusing them of anything. It was a huge move, and I knew that.

I didn’t know it would change everything.

I sat in the bullpen at my desk when we got back in the building. Everyone left eventually, leaving me, my thoughts, and the imaginary paperwork I told everyone I had to do. I really just needed time to think. Unfortunately, my time for thinking was cut short.

My personal cell rang, an unknown number on the screen. I wasn’t usually one to pick up for unknown callers, but something in me compelled me to this time.

“Hello?” I greeted.

“Do you know who I am?”

The voice was familiar, though I couldn’t place it.

“I don’t.”

A sigh came from the other end.

“You’re nothing but a parasite in this organization. Ruining everything with a stupid press conference, and you don’t even know my name?”

I paused. “I’m sorry.”

“You will be. Live television isn’t the place to expose secrets, my dear, and yet you did it anyways.”

“I didn’t mean to—“

“People are asking questions. You let it all loose, and tomorrow news stations across the country are going to be putting up your name and your image as the person who caused all of this.”

I was silent, trying to process all of this. It was one slip, how could it possibly put me in the line of fire like this?

“Watch your back.”

The line went dead after that.

I left the bureau and went to Spencer’s in a panic. I knew I wasn’t safe at work anymore, and frankly I was shocked I could leave at all. On the way to his place, I tried calling Hotch, but the line was dead. I ended up at the door of Spencer’s apartment, waiting with shaky hands. He opened the door with a smile that faded fast.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“Can I come in?”

He nodded, shutting the door behind me as I entered.

“Lock it,” I instructed.

He listened, following me in confusion as I shut his curtains.

“What’s happening?”

“I’m not safe.”

He stopped me from pacing around the room, holding my face in his hands.

“Why not?”

I held onto his wrists, breathing in deep.

“I think—“ I swallowed, unsure if I could finish the statement.

He furrowed his brow, as he always did.

“What?”

“They know that we know. I didn’t mean to, but it’s all being taken down, now.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, trying to get any clear answer from me.

“I think Hotch was using me. He knew this whole time that the higher-ups were corrupted and let me be the one who’s face is plastered on it all coming out. It’s only getting worse now that the secret isn’t contained to the bureau. The whole country is going to know.”

He swallowed, the usual color in his cheeks drained.

“Hotch wouldn’t do that.”

“He would if it meant protecting Jack. He shut off his phone, Spence. He would let me take the fall to protect his son.”

“No.”

I nodded. “He would. He would, and you know that. He could rationalize it by telling himself he wasn’t directly harming me, but he knew what would happen.”

Spencer shook his head, tears in his eyes. I took his hand, trying to give him any semblance of comfort.

“What do we do?” he asked, voice small.

“We’re not doing anything. You’re going to help the team finish what we started.”

“And you?”

“They’re coming for me, but I refuse to let them find me without a fight.”

“Let me come with.”

“No.”

“Please. You can’t do this alone. We stand a chance against them, we can take them down.”

I sighed. “You’re better off trying to do that here. Use that big brain of yours. There’s always a flaw in these systems, especially when the motives for keeping them in place are all wrong. You know that.”

“The team can do it without me. I need to be there with you.”

I sighed hard, knowing he wouldn’t take no for an answer this time. “Fine.”

We worked for months. All of our meetings had to be completely concealed once I went into hiding. The team and I knew better than anyone the lengths they would take to find me and have me destroyed. My image was the one attached to all of this, and now the general public saw me as the sole reason for the secrets getting out.

Against my better wishes, Spencer came with me. We were holed up in Tennessee somewhere, completely cut off from practically everyone. The only person who really knew where we were was Penelope, strictly for the fact that she was the one in charge of communication. That was something else that happened completely against my wishes, but she kept us updated. Hotchner had long-since escaped somewhere with Jack, thus escaping from the inevitable guilt that came with forcing me into a role I never wanted or asked for. I knew that one day, whether I succeeded or not, he’d have to live with himself. That kept me from wishing worse for him.

The others stuck together. Though, having worked for the government, they all had massive targets on their backs. They had to stay off the grid as much as they could. Their only true communications were through Penelope, and the main destination was me. Until, eventually, they stopped communication altogether. According to Pen, they’d found a way to be safe. She wouldn’t tell me any more than that, but if what it took for them to be safe was no longer associating with me, it was worth it.

Unrest continued to build as the general public realized more and more what had been happening within our country. Right under our noses. I worried at first that we would be too complacent to fight against it all, but was quickly proven wrong. My initial exposure of the corruption had inspired a sense of conflict that I would never have expected.

I supposed it helped that the FBI directors immediately tried to kill me. They put me on top of the “most wanted” list, and made it clear that they weren’t going to stop hunting me down. That certainly didn’t assure everyone that things were as fine as they had been led to believe. It was mistake number one.

Mistake number two was the attempt to put military on the streets. They didn’t count on everyone being against a governmental body in such a strong way. They definitely didn’t expect people to be willing to put themselves in the line of fire for freedom’s sake. But, after we released all of the documents that showed what they’d done, it only grew.

I sat in the safe house with Spencer as we watched footage of the destruction. I was used to seeing horrible things in front of my eyes daily. It’s what came with the job I once had. But this was different. It killed me to see innocent people giving their lives when I’d been the one to start it all unraveling. Spencer tried to be sympathetic, but I could see in his eyes that he was glad for it. I would even say he had a sense of excitement at the unrest in the states. It was a miracle for him. It was hell for me.

“I didn’t mean for all of this to happen,” I said quietly, viewing nothing but destruction on the screen before me.

Spencer ripped his sights from it, looking at me instead. Now visibly less excited.

“This isn’t a bad thing, you know? Innocent people were being killed and framed for things they didn’t do, and even worse. It’s good that the secrets finally came out.”

“Innocent people are still dying, Spence.”

“But their deaths aren’t meaningless anymore. They’re fighting against evil.”

I fell silent. I knew he wasn’t getting it. He couldn’t get it, not really. He didn’t feel like he was the reason for all of this. He was used to being the hero, rarely thinking twice any time he gunned someone down. The years of seeing in black and white finally got to him, and now it altered his perception of the current state of the world as a whole. I still saw in tones of gray, and this entire debacle was one big sea of gray. There were no winners or losers, only people who were dying left and right for no real reason.

A ping on my computer alerted me of Penelope’s message, taking me out of my own head.

“Let’s check it out,” I said, not looking at Spencer.

I heard him follow behind me, watching as I clicked on the link from her and typed in the codes we’d agreed upon to view it. There were two messages.

One was typed out:

- Something is wrong. I don’t know what’s happening, but I think they’re coming for me. Now is the time. Don’t wait.

I froze, my stomach dropping.

“What does that mean?” Spencer asked, his voice sounding horribly far away.

I clicked on the second message, an impending sense of doom in my gut. Something was horribly wrong. A video popped up, playing before I had a chance to click it. A familiar face showed on the screen, but it was the last face I wanted to see. Richard Jones.

“Good evening, doll. Your little friend is all done playing walkie-talkie.”

I watched in abject horror as he moved back to show Penelope strapped into a chair. Her usual bubbly, colorful self was in drab clothing. Her hair undone. Not an ounce of makeup on her face. The only color I saw was the pink tint on her nose and cheeks from all the crying she was doing. Those were the first things I noticed. The second was a gun aimed at her head.

“Turn yourself in. We’ll find the rest of your friends if you don’t. Let this be a message that we’re not afraid to wipe out every last one of you.”

The trigger was pulled, but my scream and the hands flying to my eyes still couldn’t shield me in time from hearing the shot or seeing red splattered over her body. I fell to the ground, sobbing in hard breaths that couldn’t be stopped. I felt Spencer’s hands try to comfort me or at least stop my crying, but it was all so far from me. I was outside of my body, looking down at myself in a mess on the ground. She deserved so much more than an early, terrifying death that could have been prevented.

The next thing I remember is waking up on the couch. I shot up, heavy breaths coming in at the dream that I quickly remembered was actually a memory. She was gone. And it was my fault. I couldn’t stop myself from acting anymore.

I got up, getting dressed quickly without waking Spencer. I gathered my things, and started packing them all up in a different room than the one he slept in. It didn’t stop him from coming in.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going. No one else is going to die because of me.”

“They’ll kill you.”

I was quiet as I packed the rest of my things. He physically got in my way when he realized I wasn’t going to quit.

“Stop.”

“Move, Spencer.”

He huffed a sigh, taking my arms as I tried to move around him again.

“Please, stop doing this. I don’t want to fight you.”

“Good, because this isn’t your fight to begin with. It’s mine. Pen said to stop waiting, and I’m not going to give up on her dying wish.”

He stomped out of the room, and I thought I was in the clear until he came back a minute later, completely dressed.

“If you’re leaving, I’m coming with.”

I shook my head. “You’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

I pushed past him into the hallway.

“You need to stay safe, Spencer. You’re not safe with me.”

“I still love you, you know?” he called after me as I walked towards the door.

I froze, my eyes closing tightly. He walked up behind me.

“Do you still love me?”

I sighed. “You know I do. But things are different now.”

“It’s been months since you said it. The last time you did was two weeks, three days, and 8 hours from the time we first came here to keep you safe.”

“I’m sorry.”

He grabbed my arm again, and I turned to face him reluctantly.

He furrowed his brow. “If you still love me, then please don’t make me stay here while you run off to die.”

“They might kill you, too, Spence.”

“I know.”

I swallowed, then nodded solemnly. He finished getting ready, and we were off less than an hour later. I didn’t know where to go, so I figured the easiest course of action would be to meet them where they were: DC. The only question that lingered in my mind is if they’d let me get that far before inevitably killing me off. Or worse.

We were traveling as quietly as possible until we got to Virginia. We decided to stay the night at an abandoned hotel, and the easiest way for me to get any peace of mind was turning on the news. Staying updated was the only thing getting me through anymore. There was no such thing as peace. Every day was a new form of hell, and it never ended. I longed for days that were as easy as chasing down serial killers.

I didn’t realize I had drifted off until I heard vehicles approaching. I looked out the window and down at the ground to see multiple cars pulling up quickly.

“Spence,” I whispered, running over to shake him awake. “They’re here. We need to go.”

His eyes shot open.

“What?”

“They found us. They found me, we need to leave.”

He sprung up, gathering his guns before checking out the same window I’d looked through.

“They’re surrounding us.”

I breathed heavily, my mind racing with a million possibilities. I ultimately settled on one.

“Follow me,” I said, running into the hall.

He chased after me blindly, and I let myself take a moment mentally to appreciate that he always trusted me. Hopefully that would carry him through. We burst into the stairwell, and I started racing up the steps. He questioned what I was doing, but ultimately decided to keep chasing after me. I found the door I was looking for, and stepped out onto the roof of the hotel. I turned to look at him as he scrunched up his face in confusion. He glanced around, only paying more attention once I neared the edge.

“What are you doing?” he exclaimed quietly, pulling me back.

I watched as the last of the men below entered the building. I took a moment to appreciate the breeze blowing against my warmed skin. I felt everything so much more in that moment. Then, I finally spoke.

“If I jump, you have a chance. They’ll find you here without me. You can say you pushed me, and they’ll let you live.”

He stared for a moment.

“It isn’t right. You can’t just— You can’t do that.”

“There’s worse fates, Spencer. Don’t tell me what’s right when we can’t ever know for sure the difference between right and wrong here. Not anymore.”

“I promised I’d never let anything happen to you. Please don’t make me watch it all be for nothing.”

I looked down at the ground. I was fairly certain that even if I survived the fall, something else would finish me off. Spencer would be safe.

He took my hand. “All of this for so long. We came here together, we stayed together, and for what? For you to die?”

“I can’t let them take me. You can survive. I can’t get away. I lit the fire, and you know that they’ll want to do much worse than kill me for that.”

“Please.”

I shook my head, hearing the voices grow closer as they came up the stairwell. All of these months felt like years. The betrayal from a close friend. Seeing Penelope die because of it. It was like a thousand lifetimes crammed into one. I couldn’t let Spencer be the next on the list who was harmed because of me. My mind was made up. This was the only way he could get out.

“I love you, Spence. But I refuse to let you burn with me.”

He stared, though whether his eyes were filled with horror or emptiness I’m still not sure. All I know is that I fell, and that it didn’t feel like I thought it would.

It felt like peace at last.

[amemoryofwot]

13 books tag game, tagged by @aceofthegreenajah

1) Last book I read:

Network Effect, and it slapped!

2) A book I recommend:

Everybody go read The Jasmine Throne NOW.

Fantasy sapphics in a gorgeous and thematic India-inspired world

3) A book that I couldn’t put down:

I never talk about the Hunger Games in like a fandom sense but truly the first book I literally read in one sitting in one day and then immediately started the second

4) A book I’ve read twice (or more)

The entirety of WoT, let’s give it up for the entirety of WoT

5) A book on my TBR

Umm there’s quite a few as I’m trying to get over the like decade period in my life where I didn’t really read but maybe RotE haha I promise it’s in the list!!

6) A book I’ve put down

Oooh I’m sorry but … A Feast of Crows. I got to some point in that book and then realized I was done forcing myself through a series I was not enjoying

7) A book on my wish list

where the FUCK is Alecto!!!!

8) A favourite book from childhood

well unfortunately I was a [redacted] kid but we don’t talk about that anymore. Otherwise I LOVED the Chronicles of Narnia and Prince Caspian specifically, although I had that anthology that had them all as one big book so I’d just read it cover to cover

9) A book you would give a friend

I think most of my friends already at least know about WoT so.

10) The most books you own by a single author

Don’t own a ton of physical books but yeah. WoT

11) A nonfiction book you own

My Old English dictionary

12) what are you currently reading

I’m a little bit into Children of Dune, so far it’s smoother than Messiah, which was a chore to get through, but it’s still pretty early to say anything about it (Jessica has also returned to me so that helps)

13) what are you planning on reading next?

I’ve got Babel checked out so I’m excited about that! I want to read her work but I’m not entirely sure if The Poppy War is For Me based on what I’ve read about it so idk, I thought this one might be better, and I’ve also waited MONTHS to get it lol so it’s popular

And then I have no shelfie to share because I’m basically exclusively ereader right now lol

And then to tag (no pressure and this goes out to anyone I didn’t tag as well, because I’m nosy and am always collecting book recs)

@lordgolden @highladyluck @gunkreads @cozcat @clearancecreedwatersurvival @loamvessel @hauntedmoors @sixth-light @twicetolivetwicetodie @bogreader

[bettsfic]

(Love on Display is the series name for ASE and its sequel)

okay so for this commentary i went through my ASE tag to read the asks i'd gotten about it because i can't really remember the whole process, and found this response i'd written:

you know how like when you read or watch something, you kind of look for the character you relate to most? when i was rereading the hunger games last month i was thinking, i don’t relate to a single one of you bitches. and then annie shows up like “nope nope nope i can handle exactly 0% of this bullshit” and i was just, ah there i am

looking back on my mental health issues, the irony is that i was writing about madness in a time i was actually pretty stable, despite the pandemic being in full swing. i remember writing ASE throughout summer, sitting on my grandma's porch swing and admiring her garden, going inside only when it got dark enough for the fireflies to come out. at the time, i was approaching my third year of rejections on the original fiction front; i'd been querying agents for over a year and submitting short stories, and i felt like i wasn't getting anywhere. i was also about to start a phd program, which i was apprehensive about, to say the least. i wish i'd listened to that "i have a bad feeling about this" instinct.

tbosas had just come out (to almost no attention or acclaim; even now with the film coming out in a couple weeks, the gifsets i've been reblogging don't get a lot of traffic and the tag only has 250 fics in it) and so i read it, loved it, and immediately re-read the hunger games with the new lens of snow's origin story.

the hunger games is one of the few things that i think is completely worth the hype. it's a beautifully written series and i really admire it. tbosas i thought was even better, because it felt like suzanne collins had full creative control. it's not easy writing a villain origin story and i think she really managed to thread the needle with coriolanus as a POV character who is really the antagonist of two protagonists whose POVs we don't have access to.

anyway as soon as i finished re-reading the hunger games, i went back to read the one thg fic i'd written after the film series concluded, the baker's son. it wasn't as bad as i remembered it, because 2015-16 were the years i was really starting to figure out how to write, so everything from that time in my memory is hand-wavy at best. but i remember thinking, this could have been really good if i'd just taken my time with it.

back then, i never took my time with anything. i had so many ideas that i had to churn through them in order to get to the next one. when you're just starting out writing, you haven't followed through on enough ideas to know how to sort through them properly and find the ones that have legs. so i was still learning how to control my attention.

and so ASE marked a huge change in the way i viewed my own work and the reception thereof. i was getting nowhere in publishing, i was no longer in one single fandom and so i didn't really have a community, and i finally realized the only guarantee i would ever have is my own joy. that changed everything.

i know i'll always love the hunger games, because i genuinely believe it's good. it's engaging and entertaining and meaningful. before, i'd written for canons i actually didn't like, because communities had formed around them and i was inspired by what i felt was unmet potential in canon. but i know i'll never rewatch supernatural or the 100. in fact i didn't finish either of them. with big fandoms, sure, i get more traffic and comments. but i'd stopped writing for traffic and comments. i wrote ASE because it was fun, and i knew in 10 years i'd read the hunger games again, and i would want my perfect fixit fic. and i would want it to be long, and well thought out, and something i could be proud of.

i've kept that "i'm writing for my 40 year old self" mentality for all my writing. at 40, i want to look back at what i wrote at 30 and know it was time well spent because it made me happy during a hard time in human history. it's a lot easier to make creative decisions when you're writing for an audience of your future self.

with tbosas coming out soon, i'm hoping to finish the coriojanus fic i started in 2020 (i think it's 7k?). and looking back through my ASE tag i also saw how many ideas i had for finnick POV and i could see myself fiddling around with a few of those prompts eventually.

[libertyreads]

November 2024 TBR--

I'm excited for my November reads which mostly consists of new releases/ARCs. I'm doing a very slow reread of one of my favorite books of all time which means Locke and Jean are spending November with me. I'm also finally reading another Hunger Games book for the first time. Let's get into the reads.

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes by Suzanne Collins-- This is going to be my first time reading the Hunger Games prequel. This one follows Coriolanus Snow as he mentors the female tribute from district 12 in the 10th Annual Hunger Games. I've heard some positive and negative things for this one so I am pretty nervous. I'm also usually not a huge fan of prequels coming out years after the original has finished.

Funny Story by Emily Henry-- Yes, I am now on the Emily Henry bandwagon. A couple months ago I read Happy Place and I am ready to get hurt again. I chose Funny Story as my next read since it follows a man and woman who are trying to save face in front of their exes by pretending online that they're together following humiliating breakups. I always love fake dating so don't even get me started. I'm so excited.

The Lies of Locke Lamora by Scott Lynch-- This is the reread that I'm taking so completely slowly. I originally read this one in a week despite it being so dense because I was absolutely living for it. This time I'm only reading one or (at most) two chapters per day so I can really take the time to absorb it. The Lies of Locke Lamora follows an orphan who is raised to become a gentleman thief who charms people right out of their purses. There are aspects of found family and heists that just make my heart so happy. This is one of my favorite books of all time.

The Whispering Night by Susan Dennard (NetGalley ARC)-- I was shocked to find that I got approved for this ARC a couple of weeks ago. This one is going straight to the top of my reading priorities for the month since it comes out soon. This is the final book in the Luminaries series. We follow Winnie Wednesday who is looking forward to the Nightmare Masquerade which is a week long celebration of all things Luminary. But Winnie is confronted by a masked Diana and charged with an impossible task that threatens everything and everyone Winnie loves.

Against the Boards by Cynthia Gunderson (Kindle)-- My hockey romance for the month. I'm enjoying allowing myself to read a hockey romance every month and keeping this pattern going. There's hockey, there's romance, what's not to love? When Emma's controlling brother Sean tries to tell her who she can and can't date, Emma convinces his teammate Tyler to mess with Sean by pretending they're in a relationship for just one night. I assume that things spin out of control from there and the fake dating continues for longer than just one night. Also, I just now realized I'm reading two books this month with fake dating. You know what? I am not complaining.

Teen Titans: Starfire by Kami Garcia and Gabriel Picolo (New Release)-- After a bit of delay, we're getting the next graphic novel in the Teen Titans series. I don't know anything about Starfire, but we follow Kori Anders who has Ehlers Danlos Syndrome and is asked to participate in a clinical trial with her sister that is designed to advance treatments for EDS. But during treatment, Kori begins to discover some strange powers that she's never had before. I enjoy these graphic novels so much and I'm excited to meet a new character and see how she ties into the overarching plot.

Games Untold by Jennifer Lynn Barnes (New Release)-- Am I a sucker for all things Inheritance Games? Abso-fucking-lutely. This is a collection of short stories and novellas in the world of The Inheritance Games. The synopsis on GoodReads includes: this collection "proves that when you love the way Hawthornes love, there is no going back." The story I'm most excited for, of course, is $3CR3T $@NT@. But anything new from this world is going to get read by me. It just is. I love the Hawthornes (and Avery and Libby).

[alexisnoir]

Our Flag Means Death Fanfiction Recommendations

I haven't read OFMD fanfictions after season 1 but started when season 2 was airing. Now that season 2 is over, I went through few fanfictions I believe many of you may find interesting to read. Most of them are epic long, finished, posted BEFORE season 2 ended or right before it ended. They're modern AU's, different universes, different timelienes. Stories I've found, after reading few chapters I'll be immersed for hours to come. So here's my list, hopefully you'll find something to read yourself if you are fanfiction reader. With few of the stories I'm close to finishing them and others I just started. I have more stories I'd love to share but haven't read them since some are so long and still posting I'm scared to know if they will get finished after season 2. Hopefully they will.

The list with links:

Ed, Actually by BonnetPetit

When newly divorced and newly out Stede Bonnet is dragged to a rock concert by his assistant, he thinks it will be a fun night out and a chance to be more social after isolating himself. Little does he know, he is about to attract the attention of the legendary Blackbeard, frontman of Queen Anne's Revenge.

Their meet-cute hits a bit of a snag when an incident at the concert threatens the nationwide tour Blackbeard and his band are about to go on, putting Stede under a spotlight he never wanted or asked for.

I'm Used to Death by dimplyowl, That_Mothra

The 74th Hunger Games looms over the 12 districts of Panem. In District 12, Stede Bonnet, the son of the district’s only living victor, has been reaped from a pool of hundreds. In District 1, Edward Teach has volunteered for the Games in an effort to help his family. Both know that either death or victory waits for them in the arena. Neither of them expects a third option.

to a good home only by fluffy_miracle

In a world where alphas are second-rate citizens, Ed Teach, a more or less retired omega lives alone in a cozy house that is all his own. He hasn’t dated in years, not since he got out of an abusive relationship with his ex, Jack. He has some health issues that keep cropping up and he knows he will eventually have to deal with them, even if it means getting an alpha.

One day, while checking the classifieds for parts for his boat, Ed finds an ad about an alpha for sale. On a whim, he calls and finds himself with an alpha of his own in the next three hours. Stede is not what he was expecting, but there’s something about the sweet, most likely traumatized alpha that makes Ed want to keep him, even if it’s just to make sure he’s finally taken care of.

The Expectations We Hold For Ourselves by aspenspiratebrainrot

Mary said yes to going to sea, albeit only for two months, and so they go.

Jim, on the run from Spanish Jackie, splits from Oluwande and joins Blackbeard's crew in exchange for his protection.

Lucius, pickpocketing his way through Barbadian towns, somehow finds himself employed as part of a three-person crew.

Three weeks into the two months, The Revenge is attacked by Blackbeard, and Stede's hope of an exciting but ultimately peaceful voyage with his family are crushed. All that's left is for him to bargain for his family's lives, even if that means putting himself on the line.

The Definitive Leda House and the Kraken Verse by Vee (Vera_DragonMuse), Vera_DragonMuse

A modern AU that follows the entire staff of the drag bar named Revenge as well as their partners and the Bonnet children. Features drag shows, late in life coming out stories, romance in many forms, and as much found family as you could ask for.

The Underground by NymsShadow

Recently and amicably divorced Stede Bonnet is slated for a big promotion, when new hire Ed Teach swoops in and steals his job… and then his heart.

Candid Moments by meg_ofmd

Stede Bonnet is married with two kids. He works for his father, but knows this isn't his passion. He loves photography, but it's just a hobby for him. When his favorite photographer, Edward Teach writes a book about his life, he's tasked by his father with publishing it. Edward Teach is married to one of his oldest friends, Jack Rackham, but isn't happy. He's bored with his career and annoyed with his manipulative husband. He meets Stede Bonnet, who is publishing his book, and realizes he may have found his soul mate, but he's married.

Eureka by JaneSane

In the year 1888, Stede Bonnet, twenty seven years of age, holder of a degree in Political Economy (by the skin of his teeth and his father’s refusal to fund any further studies in Classics or History), lived life fairly well on his own terms. He was a little queer in his ideas, and in addition to the arts was an enthusiast in some branches of science. Those with a passing acquaintance, which was the most anyone would claim, called him a decent fellow enough.

Some stories are very explicit, some are less but still hold warning tags, so if you have any triggers you want to avoid, read the tags in the stories!

[tsaritsa]

tagged by @fullmetalscullyy, @firewoodfigs and @littlewitchbee for the greatest hits of 2023. ty all for the tag!!! i admit, it did take me a little bit to think of 10 diff things that i found good, so a new addendum to my usual 5 new years resolutions is to make a point of noting down these good things, lest they be lost to the ether like the others haha

my beloved eri came to visit me and it was such a joy to welcome her into my home and just talk and gossip. we got to feed penguins!!! i got to show her the milky way!!!! we got drunk and watched hunger games with emma. i'm so blessed to have friends that are so dear i want them to come crash at mine and i want more of these sorts of things to happen (as best we all can in a cost of living crisis lmaooo).

speaking of friends, i'm pleased to say that i was able to grow my small group of friends -- online and off -- to slightly-less-small! y'all know who you are, and i'm grateful to each and every one of you <333

i got a lot of tattoos. they're dope. my artist is like my tumblr feed personified. she just Gets It.

i built my own pc!!! it was a very scary and intimidating process, but she runs baldurs gate 3 like a CHAMP. (anything for my astarion).

i successfully finished nano, and now this month i'm basically doing another nano as i try to finish up this new fic. i cannot believe that i've broken 100k words and i'm STILL not done. maybe with a 150k draft i'll have a story in a coherent plotline (doubtful. i waffle a lot. rip moobeam who promised she'd edit it for me).

i've also gotten back into reading fiction a little more seriously -- entirely because of emma, but i am very grateful for her reccomendations. there's a few of us doing a bookclub and i cannot wait to have a discussion this month when we're all at the halfway mark!!! it's gonna be lit.

in other real life stuff, i worked really hard to build up my savings. hopefully 2024 will bring more money to me, or at least i'll get a better handle on my spending. (she says, despite booking flights and holidays HAHAH).

part of that ethos was investing in pieces of clothing/accessories that would stand the test of time, and i want to continue these kinds of purchases into the new year. i think the next big purchase for me will be a replacement pair of leather boots -- my current ones are getting towards the end of their life with the inner sole.

despite working full time, i also completed two seperate courses for study! one was directly related to work, but the other was for purely personal pleasure: an introductory course for tikanga māori. the next step of the tikanga course wasn't avail for me this year, so instead i've signed up for night classes for te reo māori instead. i want to incoporate more reo into my work and feel more confident in conversations, so this was a natural step. i've also got another work-related course on my plate too, so i will be a very busy bee for 2k24 hehe.

in 2023 my health had to take a bit of a backseat but in the last few months i was able to get back on top of it! this year is already off to a great start for me: i'm getting back down to a more comfortable weight, my strength is still improving, and my mental health and sleep hygiene are feeling more... within my control??? i've sorted out my priorities a bit there. turns out living on 4 hours of sleep on the regular isn't healthy lmfao

tagging @beesbeesdragons, @mountainhaunt, @liquorisce, @soufflegirl, and @dairogo -- only if y'all want to!

[llliiinnnaaa]

Reprisal | Chapter Nine | Part One

coriolanus snow x gaul oc

Summary: Ten years after the Tenth Hunger Games, Coriolanus Snow is under Dr. Volumnia Gaul’s wing as a Gamemaker alongside her niece. Unbeknownst to either of them, they’re both being prepared for a much greater task.

Warning: This story will contain explicit violence against adults and children alike (I mean, it’s Dr. Gaul AND Snow) as well as explicit language, and sexual situations.

***This fic is in no way, shape, or form, me endorsing or co-signing the horrific shit Snow does, nor am I trying to romanticize it. Also, apathy and will be the main driving force of any remnants of a relationship between my OC and Snow’s character. So if you’re interested in something very romantic and fluffy…it’s not gonna be this.

Thank you for reading, I hope you like it!

Blue eyes deliberately meet brown in the slew of the crowd, everyone sitting around the finely clothed table.

“I’ll be back in just a moment.” Tawny says to her husband, not even bothering sitting down beside him before she’s darting toward the back of the restaurant, the blonde Snow on her heels.

Tawny’s fingers hurriedly pluck the emerald cut diamond from her ring finger, the dim lighting of the women’s powder room lending enough privacy in the corner that her exchange with Tigris isn’t noticed by either of the two strangers talking to one another across the room.

Her own wedding ring is replaced, Tigris tucking Livia’s into her small clutch. 

“Thank you.” Tawny can’t say it enough, embarrassed to even have to do this, but Tigris is kind, and very good at minding her own business – keeping a neutral stance as best as she can as she softly smiles and nods, whispering, “Just please be more careful.” 

She despises the thought of Tawny and her cousin being caught up in a scandal, the citizens of the Capitol oh so good at sinking their teeth into garbage and chattering on about it to no end.

“We are.” Tawny assures her in the same tone, though the words in itself is a contradiction as the two women step back into the lavish dining room of the restaurant, Dyess drunkenly outstretching his arms, piping, “There she is!” 

Smoke curls from Strabo Plinth's cigar, Ma and Minerva in their continued conversation from the drive over, giving Tawny’s father the opportunity to finally chat Coriolanus up. 

The string of tiny diamonds that cascade from Tawny’s earlobes catch the light, she and Tigris both in deep red colors, holding Coriolanus’ attention as she sits down next to her husband, who presses a kiss to her cheek, hugging at her shoulder.

He’d started drinking two hours before they’d even left.

“ . . . All of our boys ended up in four different districts,” Tiberius continues his conversation with Snow, the two having been speaking about the military, Snow’s father, Tiberius’ time, and his sons. “Cyrus, Cicero, and Consus were the eldests – triplets. Cyrus was in Six, Cicero was in Nine, Consus had gone to Eight. And then Magnus, the baby brother, was in Three.” He explains. “Me and your father were shipped off to Twelve – worst one there is in my opinion. If I’d heard correctly, that’s where you went, isn't it?”

“Yes, sir, I did some of basic in Twelve.” Snow informs him, sharing the sentiment for the scummy, impoverished district completely. “For a few months, at least. Dr. Gaul fished me out almost as soon as I got in.” 

“You served?” Minerva questions, furrowing her brows as she eyes him where he sits next to her husband. 

“Peacekeeper. Never saw any real combat, however. Just bar fights.” He replies, his words sending a chuckle through the table. 

“Is there a uniform somewhere . . . ?” Minerva asks, next, slightly suggestively.

His eyes flicker to Tawny, who's trying not to stare at him, unable to scold her mother for the question, because she herself is also thinking it.

“ . . . And if so, might I see you in it?” Boldly suggestively.

“Mother!” Tawny tries to scold her, but she can't do it too badly because she laughs , having drank more than usual herself before leaving, as well.

“What?” Minerva asks, innocently. “He wouldn’t have to keep it on for long.” 

Tiberius rubs his forehead, finding some humor in his wife’s blatant request, but doesn’t want to entertain it, while Strabo and Ma laugh as Tawny reaches across the table and plucks her mother’s drink from in front of her, half-jokingly stating, “You’ve had too much of this!” only for her mother to swat her hand and take it back.

Coriolanus studies the interaction, having not seen Tawny act this way before – not around her own family. 

Granted, he had only met them within the past couple weeks, and she had been too stressed and high-strung the first time.

But now she’s relaxed much more, beaming with joy that her case had been successful and chosen for the Games, on a high she hadn’t felt in quite some time. 

His genius idea to get her to redo Livia’s case had worked.

Truth be told, he could watch her bathe in his success – their success –  all night if it wouldn’t be too obvious, the sight of her doing so building his ego bit by bit. 

“I’m going to have to call them to collect you.” Dyess adds it toward his mother-in-law, despite still trying not to show amusement by her brazenness.  

“Oh, like no other woman would have thought of it!” Minerva pipes.

Tigris quietly drinks on her water.

“As flattered as I am, Mrs. Gaul, I am a married man.” Snow says back to her, chuckling, charming as ever as he plays along with Minerva’s flirtations as respectfully as he can in regards to Mr. Gaul. “I’m not sure Livia would appreciate me modeling my uniform or removing it for anyone else.” 

Dyess finishes his own drink.

“Where is your wife , Mr. Snow?” He asks, curiously. 

“She’s visiting her mother, taking advantage of the time off she’s gotten since she won’t be participating in the Games.” He replies, casually. 

“That’s awfully convenient.” Dyess states, Tawny glancing at him. 

He had practically all but confirmed his suspicion upon seeing Livia’s ring on Tawny’s finger. 

“ It was a mishap, Dyess. Livia and I shared the lab and accidentally got one another’s rings .” She had told a bold-faced lie whilst the breath-taking, toe-curling, mind-numbing events of the night had rolled through her mind. 

“I think all of you need a vacation. I can’t imagine the stress.” Ma says, next. “How you all cope with it is beyond me.” It’s meant as a compliment, admiration and pride dripping from each word from Mrs. Plinth’s mouth, but it causes a bitterness to arise in Dyess’ throat while he studies Snow, catching the fast flicker of his eyes to Tawny who shifts in her seat, rubbing her thighs together a moment to try to readjust and discard the filth running through her tipsy mind while Coriolanus imagines her bent over the table, forcing her to stare her husband in the eye while he takes her, coping with his stress the best way he knows how.

Tawny knows he’s thinking no good just by the way his chest rises under his crisp, white dress shirt, the breath evading the both of them the longer they stare. 

“Which district do you think will win this year, Mr. Snow?” Minerva asks, interrupting their eye-fucking, unbeknownst to her. 

“I say kill them all.” Dyess hisses, rolling his jaw. 

“I won’t make any money if all of them die, Dyess.” She explains, a long swig of champagne leaving the crystal flute. 

“District One or Two are usually the strongest.” Coriolanus reminds her, and she nods as if making up her mind that her money will certainly be on  them.

“You shouldn’t place a bet based on who is from what district.” Tawny shakes her head.

Snow takes it as a challenge, blue eyes burning into her as he asks, “And why is that?” 

“It’s based on the skill one possesses. Not the District they come from.” She shrugs. “We wouldn’t have any winners from any of the other districts if that were the case.” 

“I never said that we don’t have any victors from other districts, Dr. Crane. She asked me my opinion, and I told her that typically district One or Two is where past victors have come from.” He evenly retorts. “It’s a fact you can go back and see the statistics for yourself if you’re uneducated on it.” 

“ Uneducated ?” She’s amused by him, finding their banter amusing, enjoying watching him take everything so serious, getting under his skin. “I’m six years more educated on them than you are.” She adds it, raising her brows. 

“Age doesn’t have anything to do with it.” He shakes his head, having a sip of his own drink. “There are plenty of things some people at twenty-eight know far better than people at thirty-four.” It’s added innocently, but she knows exactly what he’s referring to, knowing he takes great pride in doing things to her that her own husband can’t. 

It makes her ache . 

“No offense, friend .” He looks to Dyess, next, her husband rolling his jaw with an amused smirk. 

“None taken, Mr. Snow.” Dyess replies. “You’ll be old one day, too.” It’s added, the table chuckling at the sarcastic notion that thirty-four is old – but in the Capitol, in their profession, it is considered just that. 

“Just go ahead and retire while you’re all ahead.” Minerva shrugs. “Tawny would finally have the room to have more flexibility with her schedule and have us some more grandchildren.” She nudges Tiberius with her elbow.

“She’s already plenty flexible – that’s not the problem.” Dyess comments it smugly, Tawny’s face burning as she hits at his arm, Strabo nearly choking on his whiskey while her father pretends to not have heard it whilst her mother replies, “Okay, now, Dyess, I’m going to have to call them to come collect you ,” while Dyess laughs.

Coriolanus takes another swallow of his posca, forcing a sneer to hide behind his lips as Tawny looks to her father, “Dad, do you have my cigarettes?” 

“Mr. Snow, what about you and your wife? Any babies in the near future?” Minerva asks, next as Tiberius fishes into the pocket of his suit jacket, plucking the cigarette compact from it and handing it to her. 

It’s now Tawny who has to hide a sneer at the thought, even more repulsed by the fact she’s jealous of Livia. 

As if she is entitled to more of him than his own wife is.

Snow’s tempted to intercept the exchange of the cigarette compact and chain smoke the whole thing to ease his ill-tempered nerves whilst he replies, “Not quite yet, Mrs. Gaul. She and I both have a few more professional accomplishments we wish to achieve before bringing children into the matter.”

The posca is helping so very little to relax him, and he’s weary of getting a stronger drink, not wanting to dumb his mind and actions. 

Dyess acts as if he doesn’t take notice of his wife fishing two cigarettes out, holding them both between her fingers, extending them to Strabo and sweetly asking, “Mr. Plinth, can you lend me a light?”

“Of course, Dr. Crane.” He lights it, tucking the silver lighter back into his pocket.

“Thank you,” She states, taking in a deep, simultaneous breath from the two cigarettes before releasing it, smattering the air between her and her husband with smoke. 

“Darling, must you do so?” Dyess asks her, taking one from her fingers, situating it between his lips before grabbing the other and tossing it into the glass of iced water. 

Snow curls his lip at the sight of the barely-used lipstick stained cigarette floating in the brand new glass of water.

Classless . 

Wasteful . 

Entirely Dyess Crane.  

She raises a brow and goes to reach for another cigarette out of spite, only for her husband to grasp at her side, causing her to jump and let out a giggle that she tries to keep quiet. 

It’s infuriating seeing Dyess’ hand disappear from the table as he touches her waist, innocently or not, and when he goes to do it again, amused with her laughter, Snow stands up, silencing the table as they look at him. 

Dyess stops, Tawny takes in shaky breaths, and Tigris prepares herself to tug her cousin from his mistress's husband. 

“Excuse me for a moment.” Coriolanus politely tells them, pushing his seat back in to head to the restroom. 

When he’s out of sight, his fist is curling and uncurling, irritated – no, infuriated – at Dyess’ exchange with Tawny. 

She was his, was she not? Yet she paraded herself to Dyess as if she weren’t crying out Snow’s name less than two days ago.

The more rational side of his psyche begin to soothe him, reminding him that this is what he wants. 

He wants someone who will be good at hiding what they’re doing behind closed doors, and Tawny does just that when she kisses Dyess’ cheek and dotes on him, only to crawl on her knees and beg at Coriolanus’ feet when they’ve time together. 

His mind shifts back to Livia. 

He hates to admit it, but he does miss her. 

He misses her snarky remarks under her breath when they go out together about who's wearing what, what someone’s makeup looks like, whose still carrying the weight of their pregnancy two years after giving birth. 

Her shallow, meaningless rambles did entertain him, especially on nights such as this when alcohol was his friend and he needed a break from stressful topics such as the Games, his time as a Peacekeeper, and when he’s going to have children.

It’s when he gets to the restroom, takes a breath and examines his own bitter gaze in the mirror that he forces himself to calm down.

The room stays empty, quiet, the only sound is that of his heart hounding in his own ears at his spiked blood pressure.

The celebratory dinner was a punishment, he had decided, surrounded and provoked by nuisances of all degrees, from the drunk Minerva Gaul, to Dyess Crane’s smug smile, even Strabo had been grating his nerves earlier in the night by suggesting he go visit Livia instead of tagging along with them to dinner.

He missed his wife. 

But he didn’t want his wife, not at the moment, not tonight. 

No, what he wants is seated across from his spot at the table, and had been continuously staring at him with those brown “fuck me” eyes that have had his heel digging into the floor and his cock twitching in his pants.

He huffs out a deep breath, beginning to grasp a hold of himself, reeling his reckless thoughts back in.

The door is opening after a few minutes, Coriolanus immediately washing his hands as if pretending he had actually been relieving himself. 

He continues his facade, even as Dyess leans against the wall behind him, staring at him in the mirror. 

“I appreciate you helping my wife finally have a successful case after months of failure.” He pipes. 

The water cuts off, Snow grasping at a thick and gold printed paper cloth, drying his hands. 

“I assigned a case to her, she’s earned her credit, where her credit is due.” He replies as cordially as he can.

“So . . . uncharacteristically generous of you.” Dyess mutters, drunk eyes narrowing at Snow, cobalt setting a flame to ice.

“Regardless of what you may hear of me, Dr. Crane, I’m not a cruel man. I can be gracious, patient . . . and generous .” Snow retorts calmly, the last word pulling his own eyes to narrow for a split second, trying to pin-point Dyess’ game and beat him at it. 

“Oh, I’ve no doubt.” Dyess replies, nodding his head. “Just as I’m sure she returns that generosity .” 

The suggestive tone shifts the air around them, the enemies forced to play nice are now merely enemies, any shred of hospitality is disregarded.

“I’ve never found myself questioning exactly how appreciative she is for my assistance – or anyone else’s for that matter.” He’s nearly smug – nearly –  as he tells the truth. “Dr. Crane is a very gracious woman. Fortunately for you.” 

“Lucky me.” Dyess grits out nearly, eyes following Snow as he steps to the door. “You know . . .” He starts once more, stopping Snow in his tracks, the lingering smell of whiskey and cigarettes, the way his words hang in the air, the roll of his jaw and grind of his teeth let’s Coriolanus know exactly why he’d followed him before he ever continues with, “ . . . I never would have thought, all those years ago, that the scrawny kid singing the anthem at my baby sister’s funeral would be screwing my wife just ten years later.”