#woman shot and killed at US Capitol

[mikkeneko]

On January 30, 1835, US president Andrew Jackson was confronted by Richard Lawrence, who twice attempted to shoot him in the back with a pistol but the gun did not fire. Andrew Jackson proceeded to beat the crap out of Lawrence with his cane. Jackson did not run again in the 1836 election.

On October 14, 1912, former US President and running candidate for the 1912 election Theodore Roosevelt was shot in the chest by John Schrank while on the campaign trail in Milwaukee. He stayed at the podium and delivered the remark "Friends, I shall ask you to be as quiet as possible. I don't know whether you fully understand that I have just been shot—but it takes more than that to kill a Bull Moose." Despite the extreme badassery of this line, he lost the 1912 election to Woodrow Wilson.

On May 15, 1972, US presidential candidate George Wallace was shot by a man named Arthur Bremer in Laurel, Maryland. He was injured enough by the attempt that he retired from the 1972 election. He ran for president again in 1976, and did not succeed.

On September 5, 1975, US president Gerald Ford was confronted on the grounds of the Capitol Building by Lynette Fromme, who attempted to shoot him but was not successful; he then went on to be shot at by another woman, Jane Moore, less than two weeks later. Ford campaigned for re-election in the 1976 election, but lost to Jimmy Carter.

While looking up citations for this post I found out about any number of presidential assassination attempts I never even knew about; Wikipedia has an entire category page for them (and another for successful assassinations.) Gerald Ford was shot at twice in two weeks, and Barack Obama at least three times.

Sadly, this type of political violence in the United States is not at all new, not at all uncommon, and the incidence of attempted assassination seems to have no correlation whatsoever as to the individual's success rate in future elections.

[euphemiaamillais]

cry, kill, die part 2 - coriolanus snow

peacekeeper!coryo doesn’t like you talking to other men. you’re his, and he’s going to show you exactly what that means (ft. commander hoff finding out you’re a little more than friendly with private snow)

cw: 18+//piv sex//oral (f. receiving)//degrading//slutshaming//spanking//unresolved anger issues and a masssive ego (that’s just coryo for you)

part 1 here

you couldn’t help that private plinth was taking such an interest in you. he was sweet, not like the other peacekeepers who whistled as you walked past, not paying any heed to the fact that your father could have them shot for daring to touch his darling daughter. private plinth, you found out, was a very good friend—or so he liked to think—of private snow. this frustrated coriolanus more than anything. you were his property now, whether you liked it or not—and god forbid sejanus plinth, who really was district, touched his property.

it was hard to escape either of them, really, and on one particularly sultry summer’s day, when the ground burned from the sun and shimmering rays of heat danced across your vision, private snow decided that he’d had enough.

the way you were twirling your curls around your finger while private plinth leaned close to you, laughing as he told you a bad joke, likely. he can see the way plinth is undressing you with his eyes, and the fact that you’re wearing a tiny sundress, leaving little to imagine, made his blood boil. of course plinth of all the other peacekeepers took your eye—that boy was always out to get him.

‘you know, maybe one night we could catch a show at the hob—i hear the covey are performing soon,’ he hears plinth say with a smile.

you giggle, a blush creeping upon your cheeks. he wonders if plinth knows you’re a little whore who just weeks ago, was completely fucked out on his cock. plinth probably thinks you’re as fresh as a daisy, no doubt. you’re good at keeping up facades, he knows for a fact nobody else thinks you’re such a whore in spite of the way you flirt with everything that can talk.

you bat your thick, dark lashes and reach out to brush plinth’s arm playfully.

‘you’re so sweet, sejanus,’ you coo. coriolanus stands upright at the use of his friend’s first name—he didn’t know you were so close.

perhaps you were offering him favours too—he wouldn’t put that past you. getting on your knees for plinth and showing him what it meant to love a woman. he knew nothing about pleasing a woman, coriolanus knew that for sure. he was a virgin when he left the capitol and no doubt he was still one, even if you’d helped to ease his nerves one or two times.

‘will your father be okay with it?’ he inquires, hands fidgeting nervously. oh poor innocent sejanus, always trying to be the perfect gentleman.

coriolanus clenches his hand into a fist, heart pumping blood viciously around his body. if he could drive his fist into plinth’s jaw right now, he’d feel so much better. but he doesn’t do anything, merely stands there and continues to watch as you paw over his friend.

‘oh, daddy won’t mind. he likes you a lot, you know,’ you grin, swaying about on your feet. if only he could show you what happens when you dare to speak to another man…

you’re all his, you cemented that when you let him ravish you the other week. and yet, you still hasn’t been back to retrieve your panties. he kept them in the box at the end of the bed in the hopes that you’d come waltzing into the barracks one day or another, begging for him to show you what he could do with his tongue. or perhaps you’d get on your knees and help relieve him on a particularly stressful day.

but that was all a fantasy now. a stupid, lust-filled reverie.

‘i’m glad to hear that,’ sejanus brushes a piece of hair behind your ear and you can’t help but lean in to kiss him in the cheek.

‘you’re really sweet, sej, you know that?’ you say in a sickeningly sweet tone.

coriolanus could just about hurl. sej? what the fuck was that? some stupid nickname no doubt. but it suggested closeness, and admiration. he’d fucking crush plinth’s skull if he could. how dare he lay a finger on his girl.

coriolanus approaches you two, and sejanus, ever so lovely, offers his friend a smile. you can’t meet the eye of coriolanus, and instead stare at a piece of flotsam on your dress. you hadn’t seen him in weeks, but he’d been the subject of all your dreams. you were however, as per your father’s instructions, being particularly kind to private plinth. something about his parents’ wealth and how you needed to find a suitable man to settle down with.

it wasn’t horrible; in fact, sejanus was very sweet and had good intentions, even though you were itching to be fucked. he had barely so much as kissed you, and when he did it was on the cheek. your thighs burned at night with want, and yet you found yourself thinking only of private snow and the way he had you desperate for more. not that you’d admit it.

‘i see you’ve made a friend in miss hoff,’ coriolanus remarks, a little snide undertone in his voice.

sejanus grins, casting a look of ‘we’re more than friends’ to coriolanus. he’d get him for this, coriolanus thinks. the fucking bastard.

‘yes, private plinth has been very kind to me—he’s offered to take me out to the hob sometime,’ you perk up, seeing the jealousy in snow’s eyes. two can play at that game.

‘oh, no doubt he’s been kind to you. sejanus is well known for his sweet disposition,’ again, that voice laced with jealousy. how pathetic. private snow falling at your fucking feet.

‘quite,’ you retort, a snide look crossing your face.

you’ve had enough of him, and excuse yourself from the boys. sejanus is a little perplexed, sensing some sort of underlying tension, though he assumes it’s because his friend has a rather bad attitude. he’d never in a million years think you were getting ploughed by snow in the barracks. no, a girl like you would never stoop so low.

you begin tramping your way across the gravel path to your house, which is situated within the camp. it’s one of the nicer homes in district twelve, maybe besides that of the mayor’s, though one downside was the constant dawn disturbances of your father’s drills, which made for a very disgruntled you in the mornings. you soon learned to wear ear plugs and shut your blinds.

you made it to the door when you felt somebody coming up behind you. you turn to see snow, glaring at you with his icy eyes—and baring a look similar to that of a stone-faced gargoyle.

‘private snow,’ you address him, feeling his body heat radiating from how close he’s standing.

‘miss hoff,’ he seethes.

you fidget with the keys in your hand, and he notices this, wayching as you attempt to unlock the door from behind. you look foolish, fluttering about like a little bunny, trying to escape his net. it’s pathetic, and you know you’re already ensnared.

‘i don’t like how close you’re getting with private plinth,’ he remarks, stroking your arm in an attempt to feign friendliness.

‘oh, really?’ you inquire, getting the door open finally.

you’re glad your father isn’t home, he would have come out with his rifle and shot private snow for daring to set foot on his doorstep. you slide inside, attempting to shut the door in snow’s face so he can’t bother you, but he’s too swift and you find yourself inside your home with no one but an angry peacekeeper.

‘you can’t get away from me now, bunny,’ he says, pulling you into his arms.

‘please…’ your voice trails off, because you’re unable to find a good reason as to why he should leave. part of you wants him here… part of you is longing for him to just bend you over and fuck you senseless.

‘oh bunny,’ he sighs, shaking his head. ‘you can’t just flirt with another man like that. i didn’t think you were such a whore.’

the insult stings, more so than when he was calling you it in bed. at least then he had good reason to be calling you that. now, you couldn’t help that your father wanted you to let private plinth take you on a few dates. there was no harm in that, you figured. it’s not like coriolanus paid any attention to you after what happened. you thought he’d merely forgotten and had moved on to another girl.

‘private plinth is good to me,’ you remark, feeling your mouth go dry.

his grip on you tightens, fingers hardening their grip n the crook of your elbow. he clenches his jaw in fury, attempting to keep his anger at bay, and yet there’s only so much he can do to stop it from unfurling.

‘oh yeah, how good?’ he taunts. ‘bet he doesn’t fuck you as good as me. or do you just suck him off while he cries out for his ma?’

you raise your brows, quite shocked at his rudeness. you could understand jealousy, but these insults felt so direct. you had been under the impression that they had been friends back in the capitol. now all you saw was a one-sided facade. plinth was too naive to notice that snow was more interested in his pretty trust fund than a genuine friendship.

‘i resent the fact that you think i would be so easy,’ you spit, and he laughs in your face, a ridiculous wolffish grin scampering across his lips.

‘oh, i know you’re easy, bunny,’ he lets go of your arm and gives your ass a squeeze. ‘i know you’re fuckin’ easy because you were begging for my cock the other week.’

your cheeks burn at the memory of him pounding into you in the barracks. you clench your thighs together, attempting to quell the urges. he can see this clearly, the way you’re squirming about, begging yourself not to give into lust. but you can’t help it. he’s just so handsome and his cock is oh so big… who could resist him?

‘please… snow…’ you sigh, aware that his hand is still planted firmly on your ass.

‘come on, bunny. show me your bedroom. i think you need to be taught a lesson,’ he commands, nudging you down the hall.

you lead him to your room, which is decorated with all sorts of girlish paraphernalia. he can’t help but laugh at how innocent it all is, with the pink bows and floral bedspread which is covered with all sorts of stuffed animals. who would’ve thought that a girl like this, so sweet and innocent, would take his cock so well?

‘god, no wonder daddy thinks you’re a little angel,’ he sneers, shoving you down onto your bed.

‘look at this shit…’ he can’t help but touch the knickknacks—little porcelain dollies and painted ladies. ‘of course daddy wouldn’t think you took cock from his peacekeepers when you’ve got little dollies on your nightstand.’

your face is flaming with anger and embarrassment. how dare he scrutinise you in such a manner. you couldn’t help that you were insatiable, or that you were surrounded by such willing and handsome young men. who could’ve expected a pent-up teenage girl to stay a virgin when there were so many toned, and shirtless men roaming the barracks?

you had only slept with two other peacekeepers, one when you were sixteen—he was your first everything, but he mysteriously got shipped off to two to become an officer, leaving you heartbroken. the other one was a while ago, and you’d spent many an evening sneaking into the bunks and having to keep quiet while he spoiled you. somehow your father never found out, and you preferred to keep it that way.

coriolanus towers over you know, two hands placed on your thighs as he looks into your eyes. they’re brimming with fear, and at the same time, want. you want him more than anything in this world, your cunt is throbbing and slick with desire.

‘are you gonna be a good girl for me, bunny?’ he asks, hot breath pressing against your cheek.

you nod, giving into his whims. it’s so hard to resist him when your body is practically dripping with need.

‘gonna show you who you belong to, bunny,’ he murmurs.

coriolanus presses hot kisses down your neck, nipping softly at the skin. you wonder how many bruises he’ll leave this time—last time you were left wearing your mother’s scarf for weeks until the hickeys had yellowed. you toss your head back, body waiting to surrender itself to him.

‘so fuckin’ needy,’ he says, pulling away from your neck, hands still firmly planted on your thighs.

you mewl, bucking your hips forward with want. your panties are completely soaked, and you want nothing more than to touch yourself, but you don’t want to find out what he’ll do if you dare to start rubbing at your sensitive spot.

‘please,’ you gasp, rubbing your thighs together, completely ravenous and desperate for his cock.

coriolanus removes his hands from your thighs, and sinks down to his knees, prying your legs apart. one hand creeps up the smooth expanse of your thigh, edging towards its apex. your heart thrums in anticipation.

‘i never want to see you talking to sejanus again,’ he spits, finger reaching inside your soaked panties. ‘i can’t believe you thought you could get away with it—fuckin’ whore. i bet you want his cock in you, huh? did you let him fuck you? bet he wasn’t even any good. his dick is tiny.’

his taunts are personal and deeply rooted. you can see the disgust in his eyes, glistening with revile at the thought of his so-called friend. poor sejanus, he didn’t deserve any of this.

you are left at a loss for words as he slides a finger inside your cunt, feeling the wetness of your folds. you’re aching for him, and let out a cry as he touches you.

‘so wet…’ he muses. ‘and all for me.’

he slips another finger inside and you clench the sheets between your hands, rutting your hips a little to increase the friction.

he uses his free hand to slap you clean across the face, and you gasp, the imprint of his slap stinging your cheek. any other man would’ve warranted a slap in return, but you remained still, watching him in wide-eyed awe.

‘don’t fucking move. i’m going to teach you a little lesson in obedience. do you understand, bunny?’ he asks, brow cocked in expectation.

‘yes sir,’ you murmur, eyes fluttering shut. you’re too bent on your own pleasure to argue.

he bows his head and nestles it between your thighs, lips trailing along the warm skin of your inner thigh. he takes his time, sucking and biting his way up the apex, all the while his fingers are slipping in and out of your wet hole. your clit throbs, suffering from a lack of attention, and you let out a desperate whine in the hopes that he’ll hurry up.

‘mhm,’ you gasp as you feel him lick your wet folds.

his tongue is deft in its ministrations—he licks around the glossy folds, coating them in his saliva, and then parts your lips to find your clitoris, which is inflamed with the desire to be touched.

his lips circle around it, and he begins to suck, causing you to let out a breathless sigh. the friction of his tongue and his fingers makes your cunt clench and body hum with pleasure. you root one hand in the short strands of his hair, lamenting that it isn’t long enough to pull, but nonetheless you clutch at him as he continues to lave his tongue over your sensitive bud.

‘so good,’ you murmur, toes curling with delight.

it doesn’t take long for your body to start tingling with arousal, his tongue is so careful in its ministrations that you’re left gasping for air. he eats you like you’re his last meal.

your walls are pulsing with desire as you feel yourself unfurl, his lips sucking at your clit. your heart is racing, and you feel the slickness gushing out of your wet hole. he moves his tongue down to lap it up, savouring the sweetness of your slick.

‘oh…’ you sigh, lips tingling with the pleasant sensations of your orgasm.

coriolanus doesn’t leave much time for your respite, though, and in your post-coital state, he grabs your hips roughly and turns you over, ass facing him.

‘i’m so fuckin’ hard,’ he groans, palming the bulge through his trousers.

you’re still wet, and when he pulls his cock out of his pants, he presses the tip hotly against your hole. you let out a gasp, wiggling back in an attempt to coax him in further, but he slaps your ass.

‘oh bunny,’ he laughs. ‘you’re not being very good now, are you?’

you shake your head. you can’t help it, you want nothing more than him filling you up, stretching you out with his big cock.

he grasps your hips and guides himself into your hole, sheathing himself fully inside of you. you let out a moan—he’s so fucking big that it hurts. but you like how roughly he handles you, how he treats you like you’re nothing more than a fuckdoll for his pleasure.

‘so fuckin’ tight,’ he grunts as he bucks into your tight cunt.

you grind your hips a little, feeling your cunt taking him in, walls expanding around his cock. he’s gripping so hard at your hips that you can feel little bruises forming—a reminder of who you belong to.

‘bet sejanus couldn’t fuck you this well,’ he scowls as he pounds your hole. ‘probably can’t even make you cum.’

you mewl as you feel his cock press against your most sensitive spot, causing a wave of pleasure to wash over you.

‘is that right, bunny?’ he reaches down to grab a fistful of your hair, yanking you up to meet his face. his breath is hot with frustration. he can’t believe you dared to flirt with fucking sejanus of all people.

‘y-yes,’ you stutter out, unable to form words without your teeth clashing together with the way he’s pounding your cunt.

he pulls himself entirely out, still clutching your hair. your scalp tingles as the strands are tugged away from it. coriolanus rams his cock back into you, causing you to cry out in a mottle of pain and pleasure.

‘don’t fucking stutter!’ he spits. ‘can’t even take a simple order. you’re so fucking stupid.’

you gasp as he pistons his cock out of your hole roughly, seemingly not having a care for how you feel. it does make your body dance with warmth—you like being punished, going out of your way, in fact, to displease him.

‘i’m sorry,’ you murmur, clutching desperately at your bedsheets.

‘i’m sorry what?’ he asks, mouth pressed flush against your ear.

he slaps your ass again, this time harder, causing your knees to buckle. how pathetic. you can’t even take a hit.

‘i’m sorry, sir,’ you manage to muster up.

‘good girl, bunny,’ he grins, and lets go of your hair.

his cock is throbbing from the way you begin to clench around him, body surrendering itself once again to pleasure. you don’t know how he does it—in fact, you’ve never finished like this before. his tip is pressing flush against your g spot, and your legs begin to tremble as you feel yourself unfurl.

‘so good,’ you gasp out, lips pressing together in satisfaction.

it only takes him a few more thrusts to finish—and he’s not gentle with them, pounding you like the little whore you are. you can’t help but pant and gasp as he fills your tight hole with hot, sticky spurts of cum.

‘you’re so good to me, bunny,’ he pulls out of you, cock dripping.

he watches as his cum dribbles out of your hole, and moves to press himself back in. you both sigh at the overstimulation—you more so, you can barely take it, it’s too much for you.

‘coryo…’ you pant. ‘please, no more.’

‘oh bunny,’ he clucks his tongue. ‘i don’t think you get much of a say in that…’

he laughs, pleasure coursing through his veins as he pushes his cum further back up into you. you’re all his. how dare you think you can just betray him for sejanus—nobody else can have you now, not when his hot sticky load is filling you up.

‘such a little whore,’ he groans, rubbing a hand over your ass.

you feel him pull out, finally, and he sits down next to you on your bed. you’re still exposed, and he takes advantage of this, rubbing his hands over your thighs. you squirm, still throbbing from excess stimulation, and he only laughs in reply.

‘what would your daddy do if he knew you were taking peacekeeper cock in his house?’ he teases, watching as you attempt to pull your panties back up.

‘but he won’t know,’ you sigh, not wanting to fret too much.

coriolanus chuckles a little, glancing out the window. he can see your father heading up the path, disgruntled look drawn upon his features.

‘you’re about to find out,’ he remarks, and you shoot up, making your way over to the window.

your heart pounds in your chest, hands trembling as you attempt to figure out how you’re going to cover this one up. you can’t believe coriolanus is laughing—it won’t be funny if your father decides he should be shot.

‘fuck,’ you breathe heavily, attempting to make yourself look presentable.

‘he won’t be happy,’ you tell him, opening your bedroom door and forcing him out in the hopes that it will appear as if he was just paying you a visit.

‘and who’s fault is that?’ he cocks a brow, standing now in the hall.

you shut your bedroom door behind you, still able to hear the crunch of your father’s feet on the gravel. you had about two minutes to come up with a lie—not that you were sure that coriolanus would go along with it.

‘it’s not funny at all, coryo,’ you say in a hushed tone. ‘he won’t hesitate to shoot you.’

you usher him into the living room, and fix your dress—half of it had been caught in your panties. he’s watching you with hungry eyes, not failing to see that the situation was far from humorous.

‘what are you going to tell him?’ he asks, wrapping an arm around your waist. ‘that you were receiving a peacekeeper in his home?’

you scoff at the innuendo, not having time for crassness. you can’t let your father find out. it would be the end for both of you—he wouldn’t know how to take it if his darling daughter was in the arms of one of his men—especially private snow. perhaps he would’ve taken it better if you’d gone to the hob with sejanus—at least that relationship was of mutual benefit.

‘don’t you dare say that,’ you gasp, shaking your head at the thought of your father hearing the words come out of coriolanus’ mouth.

‘don’t you think he should know that his daughter is a little whore?’ he says snidely, and you shove him, eyes blazing with fury.

‘please,’ you beg him, watching as he laughs cruelly.

you can see your father at the door now, and you distance yourself, attempting to keep up the appearance that it was just a visit, nothing more.

when he enters, you can see a look of confusion cross his face. a peacekeeper, in his home, with his daughter, and not private plinth at that? you watch as he goes to rest his hand on the holster of his gun.

‘to what do we owe a visit from private snow?’ he inquires, looking you two up and down suspiciously.

‘oh it’s nothing, daddy,’ you say before coriolanus can speak. you keep a watchful eye on his movements, but surprisingly he is completely still before his commander.

‘nothing?’ he inquires, slight anger in his tone. ‘what does he have to say to you that he can’t say in front of me? you know my rules about this.’

your lip quivers, but you can’t show your guilt. you have to pretend as if he is there for good reason—not that he practically chased you into the house to fuck you.

‘daddy i promise, private snow was only coming to speak to you,’ you bite your lip nervously, hoping coriolanus will say something sensible to vouch for you.

your father glances at coriolanus, who is standing tall, towering over him, and yet he does not appear to have all the authority, you can tell he thinks it. your father is only district, after all. he really had more power than the both of you, being capitol and the son of general crassus snow. not that he wanted to incur the wrath of a commander when he was only a mere peacekeeper in 12—something which he resented.

‘your daughter is right, commander hoff,’ coriolanus says cooley ‘i came to report an incident to you.’

your father nods, and you feel a wave of relief wash over your body. he seems to believe it, for he’s not looking at you with much suspicion anymore. you want to thank coriolanus—it’s the kindest thing he’s done for you, and that itself stings, but you’re too cock-drunk to fret too much over it.

‘you must excuse us, sweetheart,’ your father says, signalling for you to leave them.

your heart pounds in your chest as you turn away, now left to fret over whether or not coriolanus is going to betray you to your father. you can only hope that his egoism doesn’t get the best of him.

[ama0310]

The President's Daughter

Character: Finnick Odair

Requested: No

Type: Angst/Fluff

Summary: Arianna Flemings-Snow, the adopted daughter of Coriolanus Snow, bravely volunteers for the 75th Annual Hunger Games. Yet, her courage comes at the cost of confronting not only the repercussions of re-entering the deadly arena but also the profound challenge of sharing it with the man she passionately loves.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Finnick Odair, right?” 

Haymitch nods points towards the screen, “ Yes, he won his games at fourteen. Youngest ever. Extremely humble.” 

“You’re kidding right?” He looked like the most narcissistic show off known to man. His stance. His waves. His stupid smirk. He looked as if he were happy to be returning. 

“Yes I’m kidding. He’s a...” Haymitch dramatically flips his hair” …peacock. A total preener but he’s the Capitol darling. They love him here. Charming , smart, and very skilled at combat—especially in water.”

Peta leans forward glancing at the screen, “What about weaknesses?” 

“Well two. First Mags.” A frail looking wrinkly woman pops on the screen. “ She volunteered for Annie. Mags was his mentor and basically raised him. If he’s trying to protect her in any way it exposes him.” 

Katniss stares at the screen seeing the women bravely volunteer for the young girl in hysterics, “A guy like that has to know she’s not going to make it. I bet when it really comes down to it, he won’t protect her. 

Sadness flashes through Haymitch’s eyes, “Well Katniss,  I just hope when she goes…she goes quickly. She’s actually a wonderful lady.” 

The silence fills the room before Peta asks, “And his other weakness?” 

Haymitch lightly smirks before passing  to the next district when a beautiful girl with hair as white as snow comes up. “ District 5. Arianna Flemings. Mostly known as...”

“President Snow’s daughter?” Katniss snaps her head to Haymitch. Eyes widened. 

He tilts his head a bit. “Adopted. She won her games at fifteen. Everyone and I mean everyone fell in love with her. She was the purest of the pure. The cutest of the cute. And the most dangerous of the danger. After one of the tributes killed her district partner all hell broke loose and she murdered the last seven remaining tributes within two hours with one. singular. knife.”

Peta shook his head in disbelief, “If he adopted her then that means he has to have some sort of heart. And he’s letting her go back to the games?” 

Haymitch holds out his hand signaling for the kid to stop talking, “Well, there were rumors about Snow not really adding Arianna’s name into the reaping; however, when her childhood friend was reaped she immediately volunteered. Flabbergasted everyone.” The video shows Arianna immediately protesting and volunteering the moment her friend’s name dropped. The horror on everyone’s face was telling how much the district loved her. 

He cleared his throat and continued, “ I imagined Snow wasn't really happy about that. That’s what he gets for adopting a victor when he’s the leader of these games." He shrugs. "Arianna is very captivating. Even Snow’s heart had to have melt for that young girl. Took her right under his wing. Obviously she was treated like a victor but most importantly she was treated like a Capitol.” 

“If his daughter is that important wouldn’t he know that during the games people will be targeting his daughter. Who wouldn’t if his daughter means that much to him.” 

That’s when Haymtich shook his head, “ Because my dear little Katniss… A) he calls the shots. If you haven’t realized everything in the games are controlled by him and people that love her. He’ll be hovering over you all the entire time. B) She’s a skilled competitor. Again seven tributes dead in two hours by the hands of a 110 pound fifteen year old, hello people keep up. Since then she’s never eased on her training. Obviously she’s bound to have enemies because of her father so she never stopped. Really good using her resources, excellent with knives, basically insanely dangerous. C) Finnick Odair. Both basically spent the last nine years together. Everyone thinks they’re together, but are keeping it hidden because of her father. I’m sure the President feels a lot better having Finnick with her knowing that he would risk his entire life for her. However don’t think it’ll make it easy to kill them. While you two are faking it. They—“ He points to the screen. “Are real. You hurt her and not only will you have Snow on your asses, but a trident in your chest. You hurt him and you’d have knives shoved up every hole in your body. They’re each other’s weaknesses but also strengths. They are who you want to be allies with. I’m serious Katniss don’t mess this up.” 

~~~~~~~

Arianna couldn’t breathe in her dress. It’s not that it’s too tight (which it actually is), but more-so that she’s again back to where she was those many years ago. 

“Breathe. Breathe. Breathe” She lightly whispers under her breath while entering to where all the other Victors were.  She was wearing a beautiful white gown with red lace at the top. Her red make-up contrasting her snow-white features. 

“Isn’t it Snow’s precious girl. Miss Flemings never thought I would have to see you back in the games.” She turns around and sees Gloss from Tribute 1. 

“You and me both. Don’t you look as charming as ever.” She smiles graciously wrapping her arms around her friend. “Where’s Cash?” 

He smiles and points behind him, “Getting the gang back together. Should we be expecting you to join us?” 

Her eyes immediately try to find the one person she truly wanted to ally with. “Gloss I would love to, but I have to check with Finnick. You know wherever he goes I go.”

He nods understanding completely, “And I admire your loyalty. Please try to get him on our side. We really don’t want to have to go against either of you.” 

She nods smiling softly at the man, “Speaking of Finnick do you know where he might be. He wasn’t with Mags.” 

The guy pointed behind her making her turn, “I guess he’s already trying to get the Girl on Fire on his side…without telling you?” 

Arianna lightly hit him, “Glossy I love you, but I hope you weren’t trying to turn me against Finnick. Like you said before I am extremely loyal.” 

He chuckles before backing away, “ Didn’t hurt to try. Now go to lover boy, but please remember what I said.” 

She watches him go back to the Career pack and lightly waves at them before heading towards the duo. 

“Then how do people pay for the pleasure of your company?” If only she knew the truth. 

She sees him lean forward, making the Girl on Fire look uncomfortable  “With secrets” 

Arianna thought it was the perfect time to break the tension especially since she wanted to talk to the golden boy before they had to parade themselves. “Nicky, we went over this so many times, you should never try to get with an engaged woman. Very inappropriate.” She wraps her arm his waist looking up at him. His smirk turned into a genuine smile. 

He immediately looked down at the young girl smirking, “Arianna, you know I’d never try to get with anyone else but you.” 

She lightly smacks his chest before looking over the girl staring curiously at the duo, “ Arianna Flemings.” She sticks her hand out smiling as Katniss took it. “ My niece absolutely loves you. She always wanted to meet you, my father never really introduced us, but you know how he is. You look absolutely beautiful by the way.”  

Katniss couldn’t help but like the girl in front of her. Though the fact that she is someone that Snow cares about keeps nagging at her, the girl alone seems genuine. “I’m Katniss. I saw your games. Very impressive.” Her curt response made Arianna look at Finnick then back at the girl.

“Thank you and your game was also very impressive.” She smiles and then turns her attention to the man next to her. “Nicky, can I talk to you over there please?” 

His gaze went to his angel and then to the girl who’s staring at them, “I’ll be there in a second need to wrap up my introduction to the Girl on Fire.” 

Arianna rolled her eyes playfully before turning to Katniss, “It was really nice to meet you.”

The two stared as Arianna glides away elegantly. Finnick leans towards the girl with a smile, “She is off limits. You hurt her and I’ll gladly pay back the favor with your fiancé while you watch and die an agonizing death. Got that? ” Before she can answer he backs away going to find his girl. 

He finally sees her talking to her district partner and then shoos him away. "Nicky? Did you really had to use that name? "

Her gaze filled with mischief yet care had him wrapped around her finger, "There's Nick, Nickey, Finnley, Finnerson, Fin-"

"Okay we get it, but there's only one name I like hearing you call me." He leans closer.

"Mon amour" She smirks before lightly pushing him back. "That's only reserved when we aren't about to dive head first into our deaths."

His smile drops, " You are not dying. Snow will not allow it and neither will I."

She caresses his face, "Finnick these are how the games are. Though my father cares for me he wants to destroy the girl even more."

He lightly glares at the girl, gripping her waist a bit tighter. " Why did you have to volunteer dammit. Everything was going to be fine, but you just had to volunteer. Why on earth did you even do that?"

She glances around noticing that people are getting on their carriage to start the parade. " I had to, love. But it's okay. I promise you, it will be okay."

The sincerity in her eyes truly made him believe it was all going to be fine even though his heart knew it wasn't.

They finally break eye contact when her partner tells her that the parade is about to start. "Better get on your carriage Snow White looks like Prince Charming needs you."

She kisses him on the cheek, "I'm not into Princes, I prefer fishermen" winking and getting on her carriage.

They both know that no matter what happens in the ring. Capitol be dam. Districts be dam. Both their goal is to protect one another no matter what the cost is.

[requiemism]

maybe its just because jinx is bpd (or, at least, HEAVILY coded as such) and i have a mood disorder but i truly cannot help but be bewildered by the lack of understanding and empathy towards her character both in the show and in the fandom. shes essentially a broken, manipulated, desperate child- even if shes "grown" now, shes so severely traumatized i sincerely doubt her brain developed properly and she certainly didnt and doesnt have the help required to become a well adjusted stable individual. i dont say this to take away her agency or infantilize her- her actions ARE her choice, and she DOES understand what she is doing. however, despite this, a majority of what shes done has NEVER been in a moment of rational thinking. she only did what she did as powder due to desperation; she threw the bag in the water because she was cornered, she accidentally caused the deaths she did because she didnt understand the tech she had and she was desperate to save her family. everything she does after as jinx is largely due to silcos manipulation, being severely disordered, traumatized, and abandoned, and literally every single person in her life telling her all shes good for is destruction and causing pain. she spends almost her ENTIRE life being told by EVERYONE but the person actively manipulating her that she is incompetent, annoying, destructive and batshit. OBVIOUSLY SHES NOT GOING TO BE NORMAL. OBVIOUSLY SHES GOING TO LOSE IT WHEN THE O N E PERSON SHE HAS LEFT FUCKING DIES BECAUSE SHE ACCIDENTALLY SHOT HIM DURING A PTSD DRIVEN BREAKDOWN CAUSED BY HER GODDAMN SISTER. O B V I O U S L Y SHES GOING TO DO SOMETHING RASH AND IMPULSIVE IN HER MANIC, BROKEN STATE. because now, she has nothing left. she has nothing to lose. shes a jinx, and she ruins everything that she touches, and maybe, just maybe, she can use that to honor her fathers lifelong goal. obviously this goes horribly and backfires on everyone, putting a target on the entire undercitys back, but she ABSOLUTELY wasnt thinking about that when she bombed the goddamn capitol mid breakdown. in season 2, after making this impulsive (and frankly idiotic but thats neither here nor there) decision she lays low, avoiding causing any damage unless necessary (although it IS overkill whenever she does harm people, thats what shes been taught is normal. she literally grew up in the undercity where people are murdered and mugged on a daily basis.) and using every opportunity to scourge her own existence. she VERY clearly hates herself for what shes done, and she certainly doesnt seem to be proud of any of it. i think this is best displayed in the discussion she has with isha when they first meet. when vi and the enforcer squad come after her, shes literally minding her business, making a GIFT for the woman who has repeatedly hurt her because "it was something (she) could fix." she cant even shoot vi when shes actively gassing her, literally CRYING at the thought. the only reason she actively begins attempting to kill her and caitlyn is because THEY'RE DOING THE SAME DAMN THING, and once again she very clearly cant bring herself to do so to vi. even in s1, during the tea party scene, its pretty evident that she doesnt intend to kill vi in my opinion? to make matters worse, when vi tries to kill HER, she practically BEGS her to do it.

i understand that jinx is objectively NOT a good person!!! she has literally killed tens of maybe hundreds of people and yes, she did kill caitlyns mom (although very honestly i could care less about that ngl caitlyn is absolutely a good character but i dont like her as a person for reasons largely unrelated to jinx 😓). she literally builds bombs and guns and whatever the fuck for fun. she enjoys watching people be beaten and killed. but i think the absolute lack of any empathy or understanding towards her a lot of people exhibit is a little ridiculous and it infuriates me to no end 😭 thank you for coming to my autistic ted talk!!!!

[snow-acotar]

Through the despair, I see love

"His paintings show a Peeta who Katniss couldn’t reach even when he stood before her"

A short one-shot of Katniss and Peeta post-canon, fluffy and hopeful.

(Spoilers for the trilogy)

------

Peeta loves painting a lot more than speaking. 

So much has always been expected of him, so many words have been put in his mouth. Even now, he doubts his words because they’ve hurt the people he loves. His words and actions have hurt Katniss in ways he’ll never forgive himself for. But his art hasn’t. 

His art is a part of him that’s never been touched by Snow and his poison. The images on his canvases are the purest expression of himself. Untampered by the capitol's lies and deception. 

Katniss loves his paintings. She sees in them the man who comes running at the sound of her screams in the night. She sees the boy with soft eyes, the boy with the bread. The man who painted sweet Rue on the floor of the training center. Peeta who held the woman who sacrificed herself for him; as she died he showed her a sky that Katniss now sees before her on a canvas. 

His paintings remind her of the man she’s grown to love despite the death that has surrounded her. But she also sees the man who she failed to protect. 

Those paintings have harsher lines, razor-sharp edges, and striking colors. 

In them, Katniss sees pain and death. In those blood-colored lines sits a man full of despair. He is faced with having to kill the woman he loves. She then sees him alive, standing by her side, but she does not want him in the way he wishes she did. Katniss sees a man willing to die for her—the man who walked into a forcefield and lived. Crying, Katniss stares as Peeta is lifted into a Capitol hovercraft. 

His paintings show a Peeta who Katniss couldn’t reach even when he stood before her. 

They show white cells, Snow's extravagant mansion, roses that reek of perfume, Joanna, Annie; and many more unimaginable things that Katniss cannot face.

She falls to her knees, seeing Peeta sitting inside that suffocating room in District 13. Surrounded by white walls, faced with people he loves, but his mind tells him they don’t love him back. Just like Katniss never loved him back. She sees Peeta try to push her into the oil. Peeta sitting on the ground, a look of horror on his face as he asks to be handcuffed. Peeta saving her from the mutts, them and himself were both trained to kill her. Yet he didn’t. He cries on the floor, scared of himself, begging to be left behind. 

But past all the trauma and agony, Katniss sees flowers. 

Primroses. Peeta plants them in a garden that sits between their houses. She sees trust beginning to grow, both smiles and flowers blooming. Beginning to smile, she takes in freshly baked bread and the morning sun. She sees herself, smiling back, and she sees hope in her eyes. The last painting is the most beautiful, in it lays- “Katniss?”

Turning she sees Peeta, standing in the doorway with their children. Her beautiful daughter comes running up to her and latches onto Katniss’s dress. Smiling, Peeta walks over and kisses his wife. Both of them gaze at their son who rests in his swaddle.  

In their children’s faces, she sees innocence, hope, warmth, joy, and youth, as well as something else. 

She recognizes it in Peeta as well, the man standing before her is much different from the boy she met in the rain all those years ago. 

Turning back to the painting, she sees the same thing. On what used to be a white piece of fabric, sits a green meadow full of freshly bloomed flowers. Amid the sparkingly grass sits Katniss, holding her son in her arms. Her gaze is directed at the man she loves, he plays with their daughter who reminds Katniss so much of Prim. 

In their children, in Peeta, in his paintings, Katniss sees love.

[sunflowerphotodoesentpost]

Hayffie week day 8: makeup day

I forgot day one but I liked my idea for day one forced proximity so I wanted to write and post it today

It was Effie’s first games and thus far Haymitch had made them miserable. On the last day they were there, Haymitch and Effie got into a screaming match and were escorted out of the viewing center. Effie was huffing down the street well in front of Haymitch when she missed a step down curb.

*Crack*

“Ah!”

Haymitch saw all this happen and began laughing until he got up to her and realized she was crying.

“You’re too cruel!” Effie said clutching her ankle that was already swollen to a grapefruit.

“Jeez! Look I didn’t know you were injured! I used to take falls all the time. You know it’s probably all the non dairy products you people eat, you know calcium is good for you.”

“Haymitch!”

“Sorry!” He said genuinely “what do need? You want ice?”

“Yes! Ice would be lovely! Nice of you to finally offer!” Effie shot back,

“Well I don’t have ice.”

If looks could kill Haymitch would be dead.

“Can you walk?” He asked surprised at the nasty look he was met with. “That things swelling faster than a tracker jacket sting.”

“No!”

Haymitch weighed his options.

“Are you sure? The hospitals only a couple blocks.”

“I can barely lay here, how am I supposed to walk?” Effie was now sweating from the pain in her ankle.

Haymitch sighed, turned around and bent down.

“Get on,”

“What?” Effie was frankly bewildered at the offer.

“Get on my back so I can carry you to the hospital.” Haymitch tried to restrain his voice but it still came off as somewhat of a spit. He already felt stupid and he wasn’t even carrying her yet.

Effie considered her options. She had left her phone at the viewing center and everyone would surely be watching the games for a while and the pain was too bad, she couldn’t wait for someone to come along and call an ambulance.

“Alright, thank you.”

It was certainly a show getting her on his back. She was down a foot and he had underestimated how much the alcohol affected his coordination. He hadn’t done this since his brother sprained his ankle when they were boys.

“Oh my god you’re heavy!” Haymitch said trying to balance.

Effie hit him in the shoulder which she didn’t regret even after it caused him to loose the little balance he had and almost drop her.

On the way there he had gotten used to the smell of her perfume and found he rather liked being this close to her and she came to the same conclusion after feeling how warm his back is. She had dozed off by the time they got to the hospital. Haymitch was not as fast as he used to be especially with the weight of another person, even though Effie was very light.

They arrived at the hospital and Effie got her x-ray. Haymitch stayed and they waited for the results in silence until he broke it.

“I’m sorry I laughed at you.”

“It is barbaric to laugh at someone for falling over.”

“Oh you wanna talk about barbaric,”

Effie sighed, she was exhausted from the pain. Haymitch grudgingly changed the topic, he would revisit it another time.

“That’s definitely broken.”

“How do you know?” Effie was genuinely curious how a distinct person could definitely diagnose something.

“We used to get broken bones all the time. It’s a right of passage in childhood.” Haymitch explained to the puzzled pink-haired woman.

“I’ve never broken a bone.”

“I’m sure you haven’t. You capitol people get all your vitamins.” He tapped her on the head in a mock nice way.

“You can’t hate me for having vitamins as a child.”

“Watch me.”

The doctor came in and confirmed it was a broken ankle. The pain Effie felt when he told her no high heals until fully recovered was worse than the ankle. She had to wear Haymitch’s shoes out. They assured the doctors they had a way to get home only because they were used to Effie always having her purse. When they realized she didn’t they were both shocked.

“It’s because you got me so riled up!” Effie smacked his arm.

“So I have an affect on you. Good to know.” Haymitch smirked but Effie was trying to think of how to get home.

Her friends would all be at the viewing still and they had no money for a cab. There was only one option.

Effie looked at Haymitch and he understood immediately.

“No”

“Come on! I’m only three blocks away!”

“Fine.” He turned around and bent down, “you’re gonna be the death of me Trinket.”

[justinspoliticalcorner]

William Melhado at The Texas Tribune:

More than a year after a Travis County jury convicted Daniel Perry of murdering a protester in Austin, Gov. Greg Abbott pardoned Perry, 37, on Thursday shortly after the Texas Board of Pardons and Paroles recommended a full pardon.

A Texas state district court judge sentenced Perry in May 2023 to 25 years in prison for shooting and killing U.S. Air Force veteran Garrett Foster during a 2020 demonstration protesting police brutality against people of color. One day after a jury convicted Perry, Abbott directed the parole board to review the former U.S. Army sergeant’s case. “Among the voluminous files reviewed by the Board, they considered information provided by the Travis County District Attorney, the full investigative report on Daniel Perry, plus a review of all the testimony provided at trial,” Abbott said in a statement announcing the proclamation that absolved Perry. “Texas has one of the strongest ‘Stand Your Ground’ laws of self-defense that cannot be nullified by a jury or a progressive District Attorney.”

Abbott approved the board’s recommendation, which included restoration of Perry’s firearm rights. Whitney Mitchell, Foster's common-law wife, said that she had expected to grow old with Foster before Perry murdered him. In a Thursday statement, she said Abbott's pardon made Texans less safe. “Daniel Perry texted his friends about plans to murder a protester he disagreed with. After a lengthy trial, with an abundance of evidence, 12 impartial Texans determined that he carried out that plan, and murdered my Garrett,” Mitchell said. “With this pardon, the Governor has desecrated the life of a murdered Texan and US Air Force veteran, and impugned that jury’s just verdict. He has declared that Texans who hold political views that are different from his — and different from those in power — can be killed in this State with impunity.”

[...] Perry was driving for Uber at the time he encountered protesters a few blocks from the Capitol in downtown Austin. He stopped his car and honked at protesters as they walked through the street. Seconds later, he drove his car into the crowd, Austin police said. Foster was openly carrying an AK-47 rifle at the time and during the trial, each side presented conflicting accounts as to whether the protester raised the gun to Perry who was also legally armed. Perry shot Foster and then fled the area, police said. He then called police and reported what happened, claiming he shot in self-defense after Foster aimed his weapon at him.

[...] Abbott rarely issues pardons, which the board must recommend before the governor can act. Abbott granted three pardons in 2023, two pardons in 2022 and eight in 2021 — most for lower-level offenses. Shortly after Perry’s conviction, unsealed court documents revealed he had made a slew of racist, threatening comments about protesters in text messages and social media posts. Days after George Floyd’s murder by a Minneapolis police officer prompted nationwide protests, Perry sent a text message saying, “I might go to Dallas to shoot looters.” Both Perry and Foster are white. Perry, a U.S. Army sergeant, also sent racist and anti-Muslim messages before and after Floyd’s death. In April 2020, he sent a meme, which included a photo of a woman holding her child’s head under water in the bath, with the text, “WHEN YOUR DAUGHTERS FIRST CRUSH IS A LITTLE NEGRO BOY,” according to the state’s filing.

Texas Gov. Greg Abbott (R) made a politically-motivated pardon of racist murderer Daniel Perry, who killed Garrett Wolfe at a 2020 Black Lives Matter protest.

See Also:

The Guardian: Texas governor pardons man who killed Black Lives Matter protester in 2020

[thesweetnessofspring]

Re RAP, can you tell me Katniss's thoughts when Peeta said before pertaining to rosalia: “She’s the only one who ever wanted me. My whole life,”. Thanks!

Non this is like, one of my favorites because it absolutely gutted Katniss. I might eventually do some one-shots of Katniss from the RAP universe, but part of the reason why Katniss responds so differently to Peeta than she does in Mockingjay is because her "suicide mission" to kill Snow has transferred to not letting Rosalia win Peeta. She knows the Capitol messed with Peeta and has an inkling Rosalia was in some way compliant with it. And she's pissed. She's also pissed with Peeta and it's hard, but Prim and Haymitch spend time off-screen coaching her. Everything Peeta is saying about Katniss is so false she's not as attacked personally and is feral about not letting the Snows win, which is why she can endure being his guard.

This, though? This line that Peeta says about Rosalia being the only one who wanted him? It's the first thing he's said she can't argue back with. She loathes that she didn't appreciate him the way she wished she had before he was taken and some other woman swept in to steal him from her. Katniss wants him back so badly and at this point in the story they're friends and he's so close to being the Peeta she knows, and then WHAM! He points out that her enemy won him over by doing the very thing she had been too scared to admit: that she wants him. She wants him so badly she's losing her mind over it. But she didn't act on it soon enough and of course she blames herself. It's the first thing she can't blame the Capitol or Rosalia for. Because Rosalia did want him, which is why she had him. Katniss sees how her behavior fed Peeta to Rosalia and it's her fault.

Still scared of vulnerability, she softens her admission to include a we. We wanted you. Back here, with us. It's the only defense she has. That once he was gone, she really did want him. Too late, maybe, but her desire was still there.

[evita-shelby]

They didn't know we were seeds

Chapter 8

Cw: ageism, mentions of the Dark Days

Rose and Aveline belong to @justrainandcoffee

Tagging: @justrainandcoffee @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @call-sign-shark

Eva puts herself to good use, using her talent for horticulture as an excuse to visit the farm and spend time there ---she did run out of space at the victor village at least that part wasn’t a lie. She plants, hires workers to raise the animals and till the fields and makes it known that all the things produced there were free to all.

Her aunt had joked and said she should try to run for office, as if they weren’t all rigged anyways. Eva could do it, if victors were allowed to use their influence for anything less ornamental, but the Capitol fears what a victor could do.

She needs a way to chart how far this trail went into Two and Eleven. There were enough ruins to provide a good enough cover, but Eva feared the beasts ---both natural and the mutts--- that roamed these borders. Even worse, what sort of hell the President would punish her with.

Eva does not risk going past the first sign of danger, especially armed with only a walking stick and small pack.

Districts were carved out in ways where you’d be in the wilds for a few stretches to deter any type of travel not sanctioned by the Capitol after the Dark Days. Her grandma remembered how towns used to be here and when the borders weren’t fenced off like that. Even the desert had towns and cities that hosted capitol and district alike.

But then the Capitol started hoarding the things the districts had and began leaving them out of the government. 13, being the more powerful district with great cities and nuclear weapons, retaliated and losing more than just the war. All dead, everything ruined and a cruel punishment to keep it from happening again.

10 had been amongst the last to rebel, their usual caution and fears of repercussions had them wait until they felt victory in their bones. If they’d known Two’s mountains were impregnable, they would’ve never rebelled.

But they had and now they’re all being punished for it 68 years later.

Eva makes her way back to the farm cautiously, careful to avoid leaving tracks that would incriminate her. She is not prepared for what she finds waiting for her on the porch.

“How?” Eva asked, fearing they’d be caught in minutes.

“You wouldn’t believe me if you knew, kid.” Tall, blonde and dressed in simple but sturdy clothing, sitting in her rocking chair to boot. Lyme, Jack’s fellow victor and mentor, had come.

“She could be our symbol.” Clemens suggests as they chat over dinner with their strange new guest.

So many traitors sitting at this table. If Shelby wanted to, he could have them all killed, but he won’t. He wasn’t Snow’s lackey like his predecessor was, he has a secret goodness he cannot hide.

Why else would he fight over Cashmere to keep her off the roster? Why else would he cover up Eva’s fling with Jack? Why else would he have the woman who took Finnick’s innocence murdered in broad daylight?

This man was one of them. She’d known it from the day she saw him.

“No, she lacks the marketability.” Plutarch Heavensbee shook his head. “She’s charming and good looking, but her story isn’t very inspiring. For fucks sake no one even bet for her, nor did she have a single sponsor.”

And while she cared for Eva, not many saw what she saw in her. Not many remember Lucy Gray Baird, especially her own district.

“Her affair with Nelson could help.” Fulvia comments only to be shot down by her boss.

“Districts hate 2, besides she killed his brother and that makes the whole thing unpalatable to everyone even us.”

Unpalatable.

Same thing Tigris was called when they fired her.

Her modifications were seen as stunning and beautiful when she was young, but when age began to take its course, she was mocked and greeted with disgusted looks even from the Capitol who once embraced her.

Coriolanus had gleefully told her why she was being fired, claimed he had received complaints from both the districts and her own protégé, Eva. The last had been a lie, Eva drunk out of her mind at the second stop of her tour had told her to her face that she loathed her for making her kill Laurie.

“She’s not your symbol because the time isn’t right yet, Heavensbee.” Shelby narrows his eyes at the word ‘unpalatable’ as well, his entire life he has been branded with that. His marriage to Grace had proved he would never be able to remove the label, not while the old families still rule. “We will worry about that later, for now we need to find ways to recruit more victors to our cause. They have sway with their own districts, most of them. So far, we have Lyme in 2, Solomons in 9 and if Lyme’s mission is a success, we may have 10 on our side.”

His idea had merit. To use the mentors and other victors to build a network of spies and agents for the rebellion they are building up, to use their influence and hatred for the system to gain followers.

An uphill battle for those in districts loyal to the capitol and a walk in the park for those who aren’t. 10 needed more pushing than its counterparts given how close they are to here, but it was not as impossible as Lyme getting her people to listen.

Jack and his mother had some standing, Atia Nelson worked inside the mountain and flirted with treason. He would join them if Eva got him to, just like Rose, the stylist for 9, convinced Alfie to meet with them despite the risks.

Aveline trusted Seeder and Chaff and the restrictions 11 had didn’t need much pushing to join them. They’d be the first to rebel just as they had done 67 years ago.

The time was coming, Tigris could feel it in her bones.

“How far does it go into your district?” Eva asks the blonde mentor who has yet to convince her to join her.

“Can’t tell until you give me your answer, Smith.” Lyme takes no shit from anyone, made her a force to be reckoned with. That combined with her training made her unmovable.

“Its not just me who dies if this fails, ma’am. I don’t follow blindly, I need to know everything and see if its worth the risk I’m taking.” Eva knows they need a better future with the games gone and Snow dead, but it’s too much of a risk.

They didn’t win the first time, what makes them think they can win on the second try?

“The dinner Mr. Shelby had you get Clemens to organize, it wasn’t just for gambling purposes. They’re all like us.” Lyme gives no hint at her patience wearing thin as she answers Eva’s questions.

“Cardew is Snow’s great-niece.” The dark haired victor points out.

“By marriage, no blood relation and whatever she’s seen behind closed doors was enough for her to join. Shelby is not like Luca, Tigris is his cousin and you don’t seem to have a problem with that.” The blonde points out.

Touché.

“Does Jack know?” Eva finally asks the question that’s burning in her mind since Lyme arrived.

“Not yet.” Maybe not ever, not if you aren’t there. Lyme doesn’t say it, but Eva can hear it just the same.

Jack may hate the games, but he has his family to think of. To join you must accept you and your family could die in the process and even that those deaths will be in vain.

The cemetery was full of brave and drunks, her grandma was fond of saying, said so when Alan volunteered in Gabriel’s place and the train took him to his death.

But Eva’s been dead since that train took her to the glittering slaughterhouse beyond the mountains, Eva’s cousins consider having children something unthinkable thanks to the games and Tigris did manage to have a winning strategy, as loath as she is to admit it.

“I agree to join you on one condition. You must bring Jack next time you visit.”

[dewdewick]

Shadows in the dust | Chapter 4

Pairing/s: Finnick Odair x fem reader

Summary: At the age of 18 you thought you’d soon be free of the hunger games, unfortunately fate has a different plan. You are picked as a tribute for district 2 and thrust into capitol life.

Warning/s: Angst, Hurt/comfort, Trust issues, Death, disassociation, murder, Animal murder, Blood, Torture, Mental illnesses, manipulation tactics, Weapons, Swearing, Canon typical violence, Mentions of psychological distress, Use of Y/N, Fem reader, descriptions of clothing reader wears, explicit descriptions of weapon use

A/N: wrote part of this on a plane lol. Hopefully y’all like it! As always thank the betas and I love them.

Word count: 5.0K

*******************************************************

She smiled at the young man next to her, scooting over and snuggling into his chest. Just one more moment of comforting human interaction, one quiet moment of peace. She felt a bit numb, her vision a little fuzzy. Today might be the day she died, today might be the day Finch died. And no matter what only one person was coming out alive.

His arms wrapped around her and he let out a sleepy grunt, his chin resting atop her head. “Mornin' sugar” he mumbled out, his morning voice deeper but soft at the same time. She took a deep breath, it felt as if she hadn’t been breathing for an hour. She blinked the fuzziness out of her eyes and spoke her good morning into his chest. He only chuckled, a tired sigh following his laughs.

“What time is it?” he asked gently, his fingers playing with the collar of the silky pajamas she wore. “No idea, but I'm sure they'll be in to prep us any minute.” she grimaced, holding him a bit tighter. He hugged her back just as tight, “I promise I'll come find you, just find somewhere to hide and run away from the cornucopia. I'll get supplies and come find you ok?” he whispered in her ear. “I’ll keep myself alive, I'm not above making a poison or two if I have to. Plus almost every arena has rocks to throw. You worry about not getting killed ok?” she said, a determined feeling in her gut, it swirled with fear and hunger, a displeasing blend of emotions.

“I'll still find you.” he repeated, pulling away to sit up a bit and look at her face. He stuck out his little finger, “pinky promise” he grinned. She interlocked her finger with his as she laid on her back, a smile present on her face as well. He laid back in their mess of pillows and blankets, their fingers remaining intertwined as long as they had left. As she predicted their mentors came to fetch them and get them ready separately, the warmth of their hands disappearing quickly. Two avoxes followed and as she and Finch left the room she saw the dismantling of their fort.

Aerith took her to a separate room and gave her breakfast, a spread of everything she could remember within her time in the capital. She had a cup of hot chocolate and looked at her pinky, curling it into the rest of her fingers. When she finished her food she was dressed in a loose sweater and pants. Aerith then moisturized her face and put a chapstick on her lips. It was a quiet and repeated activity for Aerith, like washing a dish or throwing out trash.

The old woman took her to an elevator, ushering her in as the doors closed. The elevator shot up quickly, taking them to the roof where a hovercraft awaited. Peacekeepers took note as they boarded the craft, assigned seats waiting for them. She sat next to Aerith and her leg bounced a bit as she waited, watching the other tributes walk in with their stylists as well. After a moment Finch walked in, trailed by Hebe who sat next to her. The kind woman gave her a reassuring smile and took her hand, squeezing it lightly.

It was about 5 minutes before the last tributes and stylists entered the hovercraft, taking their seats before the vehicle took off. Men and women in white coats began to walk around, starting with district 1. She heard Dutchess and Ammo make small pained noises, her hand gripping Hebe’s a bit tighter. A woman approached her “Give me your arm” she said authoritatively, reaching out.

She gave her left arm, wrist up and the woman took it. Quickly she jammed a needle under the skin, pulling a trigger. A small light blinked under her skin and she made a pained noise. The woman pressed a gauze pad to her skin, moist from a salve. The wound cleared up quickly, as if it was never even there. The medical staff went to all the tributes to administer the trackers before they almost disappeared completely.

The craft was full of soft chatter, last minute advice and well wishes. Hebe kept her hand and Finch’s held the entire ride, a small gesture but comforting. Aerith gave her small bits of advice, mostly about finding water as soon as possible. She appreciated the help, even if she had been told a million times already. The craft landed abruptly, peacekeepers immediately opening the doors and ushering the district 1 tributes up.

She was taken with Aerith to an underground room and locked inside. Aerith looked at the wall where a garment bag hung and walked over, pulling out an army green jumpsuit and a dirt brown jacket. “Let’s get you changed.” Aerith instructed simply, unzipping the jumpsuit. She stripped down and Aerith gave her a sports bra and a fresh pair of underwear, waiting until she put them on. She then zipped her into the jumpsuit and fit like a glove, custom made just for her.

Shoes and socks were put on her feet and her hair was tied back as much as possible for fear of anything obstructing her vision. Finally Aerith took out the necklace she had been given by her family, her token. Her old but nimble fingers clasped it around the young woman’s neck. “There, all ready” She spoke softly, turning Y/N towards her. “I will tell you what I tell all of my tributes. Fight, run and most of all be ruthless. At the end of the day it’s kill or be killed and I know you best so I’ll be rooting for you. Don’t let them underestimate you because you aren’t a barbarian like your district partner. You are strong enough to fight and stronger than many I’ve seen win before.” She spoke lightly.

It was a confusing moment, being told to murder and that it was ok because she was loved. Somehow it made her a bit happy though, despite the vulgarity of it all. Aerith handed her a glass of water, trying to get her as hydrated as possible. She drank it in silence before a male voice informed them they had 2 minutes left.

Aerith had her stand, slipping the canvas jacket on her shoulders and zipping it up. She tucked any loose hair away, smoothing her hand over the young woman’s cheek. The male voice started to count down from 60, a glass cylinder opening in the corner of the room.

The young woman froze, true dread settling in her stomach. Aerith took her hand, leading her to the cylinder. “Don’t let them see you cry” she insisted as she placed the girl in the tube. The male voice only seemed to get louder, the time running out.

The door slid closed and she took a deep breath, her hands shaking. The platform rose and she was met with blinding sun and the familiar sounds of wind. As her eyes adjusted she looked around frantically, she was on a small platform surrounded by water. The gleaming cornucopia in front of her on an island of its own. She looked behind her to see a scorching desert, red rocks and all.

The screen on the cornucopia displayed the number 60 and the same man spoke. “Welcome to the 69th hunger games. May the odds be ever in your favor.” He said as the clock struck 50.

She looked around once more for Finch.

40

She saw Dutchess staring her down.

30

She cracked her neck and knuckles.

20

Her eyes met Finch’s, he nodded to a beach behind her.

10

She took a few deep breaths, getting ready to dive in.

0

Her ears rang as she dove in, swimming towards the shore as fast as she could. The water was fresh and ice cold, her skin prickling at the feeling. Water got in her mouth and she spit it out to breathe. She swam hard and fast, an arrow narrowly missing her head as she made it ashore. A tin water bottle sat on the shore alongside a single rope, she snatched it quickly and hunched down to avoid more arrows. Filling the bottle she looked up to see the young girl from district 7 running through the water to her.

3 arrows landed in the child’s body in quick succession, a gurgling sound escaping her as an arrow pierced through her eye. Y/N gave a horrified sputter as the girl fell into the water. Blood splashed her legs as the girl fell, the red liquid mixing with the water. It splashed at her feet and she picked up her rope and 2 nearby arrows. her feet nearly slipped as she tried to run. Sand and blood stuck to her wet shoes as she escaped across the beige landscape.

She heard both screams and cheers behind her accompanied by the ringing. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breathing just as erratic as she ran as fast as she could. Running across the bumpy terrain she saw a rock formation a distance away in her path. She passed red rocks more frequently as she made her way towards it, spotting a cluster at the base of a hill as she got closer. Skidding to a stop she slid behind them, bugs of all sorts skittering away as she made her landing.

She looked at the rope, forearm sized thin metallic bottle and 2 arrows in her hands as she caught her breath. She could still hear distant screams from the lake, now accompanied by a desert breeze. She looked up to see a large hill backing up to a cliff formation. Prickly cactus and tumbleweeds littered the ground, some with strange colors.

Cannons began to erupt and she counted until they stopped at 13. She sighed quietly, closing her eyes for a moment. 13 was more than half, she knew the tributes of these games meant business. Someone would be after her at some point and she needed to find shelter. Her mind drifted to Finch for a moment but she willed the thoughts away, not wanting to think of his possible demise.

She looked up at the rock formation behind her once more. Maybe there would be an overhang she could rest underneath? Anything would be better than hiding behind a few rocks out in the open. She stood, tying a loop at the end of her rope and starting to make the hike up the hill. She made sure to be as quick as possible, not wanting to be spotted by anyone.

She crouched down once at the top, looking over the horizon to see if she could spot anything. She saw a few people at the cornucopia but couldn’t make out faces really. As far as any other tributes she was out of luck, they were nowhere to be seen.

She walked as carefully as she could down the other side of the hill, cactus and thistle bushes littering the ground. Red rock slowly grew black, the texture feeling less dusty under her feet. She looked up to a rock she could see sticking out of the formation, deciding on it as a target. She knotted the rope a few times as footholds and threw the looped side to try and catch the rock. Eventually she did after a few tries, tugging on it to make sure it could hold her body weight. She placed the arrows between her teeth and grabbed the rope.

She hoisted herself up, using the knots so as to not fall or tear up her hands. She climbed as far as she could, holding the top knot with her feet and reaching the rock. She pulled herself up and sat, looking up at the rocks and spotting a higher overhang. It would be a good hiding place, at least until she could get her bearings.

She repeated her climbing technique until she got to the overhang. Exhausted by that point, she set her water and rope next to her as she sat in the crevice provided by the large rock. She finally had a moment to think, a moment to breathe.

She opened the water bottle, taking a few small sips. enough to wet her lips but not too much in effort to save it. Dust blew on the large hill in front of her, swaying the prickly bushes atop it. She saw a tiny bit of movement coming from the side of the hill causing her to fold in on herself.

Two cottontail rabbits sprang across the hill in a sort of race, a burst of brown, black and grey. She smiled at the sight, even in the arena animals were still animals. The two rabbits stopped to nibble at a patch of green weeds at the base of the kill. Their pink ears standing upright in caution. She looked to the arrows in her hand once again and then at the position of the sun. it would be ok to make a fire until dusk, the breeze would erase and smoke trail.

She took an arrow, aiming it for one of the rabbits and throwing it quickly and with force. Unfortunately for her it missed, sending the rabbits fleeing as quickly as they came. She sighed a curse under her breath, she would need a better weapon if she was to hunt. She looked out to the hill once more, spotting a few possibly edible fruits on top of cactus but nothing more.

She sat watching for almost an hour, that is until she once again saw movement. It looked as if a rock moved slowly across the base of the hill. She squinted, that couldn’t be right could it? Was she hallucinating?

She saw it move again, noticing small tan legs and a round head poking out.

A desert tortoise. She cringed to herself, she had seen it eaten before but declined to try it. The tortoise made its way slowly across the base of the rocks and she took a deep breath, looping her rope around the rocks. She made her way down to where the animal walked, picking up her arrow from the ground. “I’m so sorry Mr.Turtle” She said, mostly to herself.

She quickly stepped on the tortoise’s shell and drove the arrow into its head. Her hands shook as blood spewed from the animal's body. Her breathing picked up as her vision went blurry once more. Picking up the limp animal and gently setting it aside, she gathered some dry brush for a fire. All of this felt fake like a dream or hallucination that she was experiencing was this real? Was she actually dead in the water by the cornucopia?

She looked down at her hands, covered in blood and caked in dirt. Her fingernails, painted that pretty red color, now blended in with the blood sticking to her skin. And as suddenly as it all started, it stopped. She was herself, she was real, she was there, she was alive.

She walked up to a cactus nearby as she caught her breath and got her bearings, examining the fruit on top of it. It looked like a prickly pear, but it also looked off somehow. It had a bright red color, not as pink as she originally remembered. The thorns seemed wrong too, barbed instead of straight like normal. They were most likely poisonous, but that could come to her advantage at some point. She kept it in a mental checklist for later if she needed it.

She continued to collect the dry brush and sticks, using them to make a small fire. As the fire latched on to the wood she provided she added more, along with a few stones. She used the tip of one of her arrows to pry the bottom shell off the tortoise, her brows furrowed as she did. She used the sharp edge of the arrow to cut the head and legs off the animal. Disemboweling it onto the ground, she set the limbs and shell in the fire.

Once cooked she scraped the skin off, eating the meat inside. It had a strange taste, like a mix of pork and chicken. She ate all she could, using the arrow to scrape as much off the shell as possible. She placed the shell over what remained of the fire to dry it out, thinking she might be able to use it as a bowl or possibly storage late on.

Sitting in the dirt she looked up at the sky, it had to be late afternoon by then. The sun would set soon enough and she needed to get back to higher ground. She took the shell off the coals, standing and heaping dust onto the remains of the fire. Climbing back up to her perch, she looked out to the cornucopia again, a fire sat at its base.

She wondered who it could be that set it, Ammo and Dutchess? Possibly the careers from district 4. She once again willed any thoughts of Finch away, she would find out soon enough if he was alive. Another flicker of fire caught her eye instead, closer than she would’ve liked but far enough away that she felt safe. It sat to her right at another rock formation with a circular crater at the base. It didn’t seem like a smart place to hide in her mind, anyone who stumbled across it would have the advantage of the higher ground.

The fire was burning bright and she hoped whoever set it would stomp it out soon, she didn’t want to hear their screams. The sun started to set after a while of her observing the competition and she offered a small smile at the colors of the sunset. The clouds tinted pink and the horizon dipped into a dark orange and yellow color.

She laid with her head on the coiled rope and an arrow in her hand, watching the sky. She thought of how her family must be watching, she wondered if they were celebrating her success so far. She looked at her necklace, opening it and looking at the photos encased for just a moment. She took a deep breath and closed it, unwilling to cry at such a moment.

The sky continued to turn darker; pink, orange and yellow replaced by indigo and a deep violet. Stars peeking out from beneath clouds and all was quiet for a moment. Crickets chirped and she heard rustling from the ground below her perch.

The capital flag appeared in the sky, lighting it up in place of where the moon had just been. Music played as faces appeared, cannons once again booming. She watched the faces carefully, her mind checking off the dead. Both tributes from 3 dead, the boy from 5 and the girl from 6 joining. The boy from 7 appeared and she took a deep breath as it faded to the little girl she had barely begun to know. Once the girl faded she began counting again, the tributes from 10 and 9 appearing quickly. The girl from 11 and both from 12 finished the count.

The panem flag appeared again and then faded back to the moon. She closed her eyes in a mixture of sadness and relief. Sadness for the lives lost, so many children with no choice. Sadness for the families of the 13 children that would not be coming home. However the spark of relief lived in her heart, Finch.

Finch had lived, Finch was alive. She hoped the fire next to the cornucopia was his, she hoped he was safe. She let her eyes close once again as the breeze began to pick up, turning to wind. A chill ran down her spine as she huddled into her jacket.

The wind whipped and howled, an unnerving lullaby as she moved to the back wall of the overhang. She huddled into herself, her possessions kept close to her chest. Cold began to set in as she dozed off and for a short while she fell into a dreamless sleep, her situation and stress melted away into complete nothingness. It was only about 4 hours however until she was awakened by a mixture of strong winds and screams.

Her eyes snapped open as the wind and cold both whipped at her face. The sound of screams echoed from below, a sharp piercing noise from a girl. “They’re eating me! God help! they crawled out of the sand!” She shrieked into the darkness. Y/N couldn’t see what was happening but the other voice explained it for her. “What the hell are those things?! It looks like a Leech with a giant mouth!” The male voice yelled.

Horrible guttural screams followed from the girl as she begged the boy to stop touching her. “You’re losing blood! They’re sucking your blood!” He reasoned as the girl let out more pained wails. Y/N covered her ears, not wanting to hear anything else.

The girl screamed for hours, the boy only adding to her pain as he desperately tried to help. She screamed her throat raw, barely able to let out more than a cracked wail by the time the sky began to change to a light blue. Y/N had to get away, it was all too much. She took her possessions and crawled out into the wind.

She was immediately blown to her knees, the rock scraping her skin. She winced and let out a small pained noise as she felt small rocks embed themselves into her flesh. She did her best to crawl to where the wind wouldn’t hit as hard, looping her rope around a rock and climbing down to the ground. Screams seemed to be her companion, the girl letting out pained noises every so often.

Her feet landed in the dirt and she whipped her rope a few times to get it down. The wind was dying down a bit but it was still strong. She knew walking against it was a bad idea now that she was on the ground.

She would have to pass the two tributes in order to leave. A weight settled in her stomach as the sun began to peek over the horizon. She looked at her tortoise shell, arrows, water bottle and rope and wondered what weapon she could even use long distance. She supposed she could use an arrow but her aim didn’t seem great with the rabbits the previous day.

She stared at the objects, trying to think of an idea that could help her. Suddenly she heard shuffling nearby, she picked up a rock quickly and held it by her head, ready to throw. A small mule-deer came into view, obviously startled once it saw her as well. She stood still for a moment, eyes locked with the animal. Taking a slow step backwards, the rocks beneath her made a small crunch. Just like that the deer ran, gone as quick as it came.

She lowered her arm, her jacket whipping in the wind. She looked at the rock in her hand, smiling as an idea finally came to her. She took one of the arrows, whittling it against the upper edge tortoise shell. A hole big enough for her rope was made after a few moments and she quickly made two others just like it. She strung the rope through the holes and slung the makeshift bag over her head and onto her shoulder.

She took a few rocks, placing them in the shell with an accomplished smile. Clipping the carabiner of her water bottle to her contraption she began walking, towards the screams of another tribute.

She didn’t have to walk long in the light of dawn until she spotted them, the boy standing in protection of his friend. Unfortunately she was spotted as well, the boy held a pitchfork up to defend them. “Who are you?! What district?!” He demanded, his feet automatically assuming a fighting stance.

“2, but I’m not here to hurt you! I just want to find my friend!” She said with a raised hand, a buzzing returning to her ears. The boy raised a brow, walking towards her a bit. “And how do I know you aren’t lying?” He quipped, the pitchfork aimed at her abdomen. “I’m small and I have no experience fighting, I don’t even have a proper weapon” she said as she poised herself to run.

The boy gave a peculiar look but was interrupted by a wail from his partner who she couldn’t see. “Do you have medicine?” He asked quietly, lowering his weapon a bit. “No but I can try to make some, I’m good with herbs and I know what numbs pain.” She said, spotting a few yucca plants nearby. Her hands felt numb at the moment, a sensation as if cotton balls were filling her head.

“Help us and I’ll help you, I know how to kill rabbits.” The boy proposed, lowering his weapon a bit more. “But trick me and I won’t hesitate to kill you where you stand,” he warned. She only nodded, taking a few steps forward “Y/N” she said quickly, introducing herself as her mother taught. “Marpat, district 8.” He said quickly, motioning her to follow.

He took her to where his partner laid. She was pale, so pale it was a wonder she was alive. At the tribute parade she had a lovely dark complexion, but now it was like she was a different person. Fat slick black bugs sat all over her body and clothes, the skin around them raw and weeping. The large bugs had wings and thin limbs that looked as if they dug into the skin like needles. For some reason Y/N didn’t react to the insects, the smell or the gruesome sight.

After a moment Y/N spoke “Have you taken any of them off?” she asked, projecting calmness in her voice as she kneeled next to the girl. “I tried, Kuba wouldn’t stop screaming.” Marpat explained with an anxious voice.

“I can’t fix this…they’re sucking her blood, eating her skin.” She explained “they’re mutts, probably have barbed teeth or something like that” she added as she chewed her lip a bit.

“What do I do? I can’t kill her, she’s my friend.” He said desperately “can’t you get them off without it hurting? Or give her something to ease the pain?” He asked, kneeling next to her. “Even if I did, she’s dying. She’s not getting better.” She said, looking at the girl's face. Kuba had dried tears down her face and a tired look in her eye.

“Do you….want me to do it?” Y/n felt a calm but far away sensation coming over her. It was like she was slowly losing herself, losing consciousness while she was awake. Marpat had a terrified look in his eye but he looked down at his friend's emaciated body. He slowly nodded, turning and walking a few feet away, as to not see what was about to happen.

Y/n felt as if she was sleepwalking, watching her hands as she picked up one of her arrows. She looked down at the dying child in front of her and did the unthinkable. She slit her throat, her hand over the girl's eyes as she was splattered with blood. She felt so incomprehensibly numb, so cold, so not herself. She didn’t feel anything as she stared at the hot thick blood on her hands. It didn’t feel like what it was, it didn’t feel like anything. She barely blinked as she continued to cut deeper until the wiggling stopped.

She didn’t react when the cannon went off just as she didn’t react when Marpat called her name. However she did react when she was touched, whipping around and plunging the arrow deep right below the ribs of the person behind her. She felt so far away as he fell to his knees, so cold as he begged for his life. She felt like cotton filled her brain as she smashed his skull with a rock. It was like she was watching a movie, a clip from some other games past. Someone else was doing this and she didn’t have a choice but to witness the horrific scene.

It was like she was doing the dishes, taking out the trash. If she was conscious enough she might have wondered if that was how Aerith felt before the games. How it affected a person to watch children they personally knew die time after time. Instead she just picked up her things quietly, along with the pitchfork from the limp hands of Marpat. Walking into the desert as she could only really think of one word, Finch.

[kahlanmars]

BAD FEELING part. 23

MASTERLIST

taglist: @crimsonincursive

Hiii. I was on holiday but now I'm baaack! I couldn't, ok? I just couldn't. My precious babyboy.

23. Playing God

Turns out it’s not how you die simply because Finnick saves you once again. You lost count of how many times he saved your sorry ass, but you think you’ll owe him for the rest of your life. You’ll give a gigantic gift to Annie when the baby is born.

Your group is hiding in a small inlet now, and you can’t help but to ask a question everyone has.

«What the fuck were those?»  

«Mutts.» Boggs answers. You think he knew, maybe not exactly about these but he was aware of the chance. «Snow knows the tunnels are our best possibility.»

If this is your best shot you are already dead.

Mutt technology scares you so much. Modified animals created by the Capitol, controlled by them too. 

«So you are implying we have to deal with the lizards.» Perla assumes. You don’t agree on the “Lizard” term. You know lizards, they are small and nice and green. These things are white, too human shaped for your taste and they can talk. They say only “Katniss”, but they can talk.

Katniss who is too silent. Katniss who is too tense. You two are not close, but she’s your non boyfriend adoptive daughter, so you try to keep an eye on her, on Peeta too, and in a way on Finnick, even if he is your age and save you all the time. Your partner has a lot of adoptive children.

«Nobody said it was going to be easy.» Finnick remarks. Cressida always puts the camera on his face every time he talks. It didn’t matter how many times Finnick made pass-pros telling about his traumatic past and how Panem mistook him for a sex symbol, he is forever going to be the Games’ golden boy. Cressida is a practical woman, if he can bring more people to the revolution his face will be the poster face along with Katniss’s. Cressida is also a Capitol woman and some habits don’t die.

«We dealt with mutts and Capitols before, didn’t we?» Lora says, with a high pitch tone who is not at all like the others. You caress her arm in reassurance, because if she has to talk like this she is scared. «We are not doomed. We can try.»

«We can win.» Peeta adds, but it’s Katniss who finally speaks up.

«We have to.»

«Welcome to the 76th Hunger Games.» Finnick declares. «And may the odds be ever in your favor.»

The plan is simple: we see a lizard and we fight. You don’t fight, you are not able to and you never did that. There is no way to fight a shark, and you only fought humans. 

«Now, who never used a gun?» Boggs asks you.

You raise your hand until you realise there’s no need for you to do it. You spent too much time with children, you can just tell them. Lora, Perla and a fucking soldier follow your example and you realize that in District Thirteen you can be reaped as a soldier when you are fifteen. Not really different from The Hunger Games. On the other hand this is what war does… but are you not supposed to help the children instead of making them fight for you?

You really hate District Thirteen.

«You will stay behind. The Mockingjay is the priority.» 

Katniss watches him like he grew a second head. «No, I’m not. I can be dead at the end of all this. The priority is killing President Snow. We reach for the entrance and we go. This is our mission.»

You are not scared, you are absolutely terrified. You follow the soldiers waiting for the lizards to strike any minute now, not sure if they follow the scent of the noise. 

For a while the situation is the same for everyone.

You wait, and you wait in silence.

Until you hear a screech. 

You begin to run.

You run until your lungs are on fire and you spot a stair that if you are lucky enough will bring you out of this mess, and if you are not will bring you out of this misery. 

«STAAAIRS!» You scream, hoping the lizards don’t know your language, because Finnick, some soldiers and Peeta are behind you. 

You climb as fast as you can and you reach the top. Opening a door on the wall is not the simplest thing, and you are wasting precious time. Why are you on the top? Why is not Katniss on the top, or Boggs, or someone who knows what they are doing? You are wasting time. You are wasting time and now that means someone will be killed because of you, it’s all your fault, it’s…

Open. You open it. 

You crawl out the hole and you help the others with Perla, knowing the lizards are behind them with sharp teeth and claws. The others are on the ground now, shielding you from any possible danger.

The last ones are Caius and Finnick, going in together because the stairs are big enough. You hold the hand of the guard and your friend when you feel that something is wrong, too heavy than before. 

«Finnick?» You scream, trembling in terror. You can’t risk Finnick, you can’t risk Finnick, you can’t risk him…

«My leg!» He is clearly in pain, the lizards are biting him in the flesh, greedy for a meal. They are too strong.

He won’t make it, you realise. There’s no way you and Perla can lift him enough to save him, he is going to die there or you will die with him.

The boy who saved you, the man who will have a baby soon, dies. The handsome man who suffered the most. He doesn’t deserve it. All his life has been hell and now that he can have happiness he dies.

Meanwhile, the soldier who left you to die is about to be saved. By you. You get to save him but not Finnick. 

He doesn’t deserve it more. He will kill other people because he’s hurt, Caius is dangerous, he was willing to let Marjorie die because he was offended by you. 

No.

In a blur, you really don’t know what you are doing, like a foreign force that possesses you, you remove your hand from Caius’s and you push him off the stairs. He shouts, but the lizards surround him immediately and they tear his pieces apart, famished, leaving Finnick alone.

You pull him up, helped by Perla and you close the hole, as fast as you can.

Then you watch him. He watches you, and you can only imagine what he is thinking.

A murderer. A killer. A cold blood killer. The woman who played God. It wasn’t up to you who lived and who died. Is this for Finnick? Or just a convenient revenge? Would you have done the same with another soldier? 

But he didn’t deserve to live, he tried to kill you and Marjorie, and Finnick was dying and you didn’t want him to win.

«I can’t walk, I think my leg is broken.» He talks after what you think it’s an infinite amount of time. 

It’s Cressida who has the solution. «Come, I know a place.» 

The place that Cressida knows is a taylor’s house. The woman, named Tigris, was a famous stylist until Snow decided she wasn’t pretty enough to work for him and now she collaborates with the rebels. To be fair, she is hideous. She looks like a cat, her skin is yellow with black stripes and her nose is almost feline. She is too skinny, maybe because food is rationed in the Capitol since the war started. 

She is nice, though. She offers a meal and she let you stay in her basement until you’ll do part B of the plan, which means no lizards and no snakes. 

And blankets, you love blankets. 

You are sitting on the couch trying to bandage Finnick’s leg when he speaks up. He can’t walk, Gale carried him on his shoulder. 

«Thank you.» He talks to you, when Gale rushes to Katniss.

«No problem, I’m no Prim but I think it’s broken. You’ll stay here, you can’t fight with a broken leg.» It’s not your place to tell, or your orders to give, especially to him. Still, you are pretty good at giving orders.

«I didn’t mean… for this.» 

You close your eyes, trying not to break your calm. If you don’t think about it and you go on you will remain collected. Now it’s really not a good time for a panic attack. 

«You are my friend and I have to protect you.» You repeat like a mantra. «And I wasn’t going to leave Annie alone.»

«You know, apart from the age difference and the mentor - tribute thing, I get why you two are together. You are both protectors.»

You stay silent for so long because if you say something you are going to burst into tears, but one rolls down to your face, out of your control, and soon you begin to cry against his shoulder.

«I’m so sorry, I’m so, so sorry…» You murmur.

«Don’t, you did it to save me.» He hugs you, rubbing your back.

«I’m not like Haymitch, I’m not a good person, I’m a murderer.» You babble looking at him like you are desperate.

«And you think I’m not? I am. Haymitch is. Katniss is. We are all tributes, Daisy. We are all killers.» 

«That is not the same and you know it.» You look at him.

«Says who?» He deadpans. «It’s like in the Games.»

He caresses you and he strokes your hair until you fall asleep against him. It’s Katniss who awakes you, rather gently for her. «Ehi, there’s Haymitch on the computer, so… I thought maybe you want to say hi.»

You have to wait for your turn, because he is speaking first with her and then with Boggs for strategic stuff, but then they let you speak to him for five minutes. Good, you can calm yourself down a little.

«Partner.» You say hi, rubbing your eyes. It’s the middle of the night and you cried yourself to sleep.

«Sweetheart. How are you doing?» He looks at you, you can tell he is worried but you are not going to say anything. Maybe they are recording.

«Bad, I miss you. But I’m alive.» And Caius is not. You can’t cope with that, so your brain acts like you didn’t do what you’ve done.

If you linger to the knowledge everything becomes black. The first time you were protecting Effie and him and you were trying not to be murdered by President Snow; the second time you were in the Hunger Games, fighting for your life. This time you have no excuses. You decided who had to live and who had to die.

Haymitch can’t know that. He will think you are not perfect, he will know you are evil, he will leave you, he doesn’t even love you. 

No, that is wrong. That is even worse! You have to tell him as soon as you get back in the district. That is the right thing to do. 

But you will lose him.

But… even the thought of losing him is selfish. Caius can’t lose anyone, because Caius is dead. Because of you.

Then again, Caius was a bad person who almost killed you and an innocent woman in the process.

«Stay alive, Gorgeous. I miss you too.» He seems tired. You don’t know how the tremors are these days, but his hands shake and he has black shadows under his eyes. 

«These confessions.» You tease him. 

«What can I say? You made me soft.» With those words the butterflies in your stomach are dancing to a very loud song. You made him soft.

«Didn’t replace me with a cute District 13 girl yet?» No real conversation, no real deal. They are watching you.

«Didn’t have time. Not like you and Finnick.» He deadpans. Boggs is down with gossip? Or Katniss said it to him when he asked about you.

«Oh yes, I was sleeping against him just now.» You retort with a wide grin. «You know my taste in men is “Handsome victors”.»

«Is it now? And I thought that was “Old alcoholics”.» You almost feel bad for the people that will see the video, because his eyes are dark with lust and you purr in every word. It will be embarrassing for them. You look like teenagers in love.

«Old alcoholics who can make you see stars at night?» 

He chuckles, but you can tell he is filled with pride. «You’re mine, remember that.»

«No, you are mine. Can’t wait to prove it to you.» You are being ridiculous and you know it, and then again when you’ve seen him on the monitor your heart skipped a bit. You are so proud of your bracelet and proud that everyone knows you wear something of his, not because he owns you, just because… he really knows you. And you are so scared, that’s so you to cope with that.

«And how would you do that, Princess?»

«I might bite your neck.» You have a little kink for his neck. It’s so strong, so rough, and when you kiss it he moans so loud and he always makes sure you scream in pleasure after… 

«Just my neck, Sweetheart?» 

«Boggs says you have to quit now.» Katniss tells you, and by the blush on her face you get she listened to your little conversation. You say goodbye to your handsome, funny, kind partner and almost burst into laughter when the dark haired girl avoids your gaze. She is so pure. 

When you come closer to Perla and Lora, they exchange a look.

«I miss you.» Lora tells her, mocking my accent.

«I miss you more. You are mine.» Perla follows her example. You scoff, clearly annoyed.

«Remember that you are mine.» The younger woman is really keen on your imitation. 

«No, you are mine.»

«You have to remember.»

«Remember it, Daisy.» 

They look at you like you’ll clap at their performance. You throw a pillow at them. «…Fuck off, you two.»

«And who would help you remember?»  

You laugh, and you come back to sleep between them. 

«Do you think we will die here?» Perla whispers after a while, maybe half an hour. «I don’t think we are very much loved by Thirteen.» 

«No, we can’t die. We need to go on a proper vacation in her district after the war.» You murmur. «I’ve always wanted to visit District Four.»

You smile and turn to see Lora’s reaction, but she is asleep. She looks so peaceful when she is sleeping, so young. You didn’t protect her much today, you should keep an eye on her too. She’s strong, she’s cunning but she’s still a kid. Being nineteen is still being a kid. Just a year out of the normal games.

«I don’t think we’ll arrive to an “After the war”. We don’t get to have an after.» Perla keeps going. She is clearly in a clouded mood tonight.

«Don’t even. We have to try.» You squeeze her arm. You thought like that all through your games, and it has been exhausting. She needs to fight, so she can’t be tired.

«I’m in love.» She whispers so briefly you almost don’t hear it. «For the first time. And I don’t want to lose it.»

You watch her closely. If you joke about it now you lose her. Perla is used to being the strong one, the one who doesn’t care about feelings, and if you can’t imagine her being so open and approachable. She is not like you, who screams you are in love with Haymitch to anyone who’s willing to hear about it. She doesn’t wear her heart on her cheek. 

«You won’t. You deserve it.» You stroke her brown hair to pamper her. «Do you want to tell me… who is it?»

She doesn’t answer right away. She closes her eyes, like it’s a great secret. It’s probably a secret. 

«I have been part of the rebellion since the start, you know?» You didn’t know. You thought it had been the same as for you, but you let her continue. «I volunteered because of that.»

You actually remember that she volunteered, but you thought it was for a sibling or a friend, not for a cause. «Weren’t you scared?»

«I was frightened. Working for the rebellion with Finnick, I…» For a moment you are terrified she says she is in love with Finnick. Like for real. Every woman who likes men in Panem had a crush on Finnick Odair, the dashing prince from District Four, but a real thing would have been devastating. He is married. His wife is pregnant. «I met a stylist.»

Ok, now you are just puzzled. «A stylist?»

She gulps. A confession. «The stylist. Like… the rebel stylist. The stylist of the rebellion. Katniss’s stylist.»

You cover your mouth with your hand. «Are you in love with Cinna?»

«Don’t hold it against me, Daisy. I don’t know what got into me. I don’t do these things. It’s not the right time.» 

«Things like? Living your life? Love?» You raise an eyebrow. «It’s wonderful! What do you live for if you don’t live for love? That’s just perfect.» 

«The rebellion comes first.» She reminds you. «For the both of us.»

«Oh, aren’t you just perfect for each other.» You joke. Just a little. She can bear that. «Plus, he is reeeally hot.» 

Lora opens an eye, clearly annoyed by your chatting. «Uh?»

«Oh, nothing.» You dismiss it.

«I’ve heard everything and I have just one question.»

«Shoot.» The sky blue eyed girl offers.

«What is it with you and old people?»

You pretend to sleep for most of the night. You don’t want to bother anyone with nightmares, but you also know there’s no way Caius won’t be in them when you’ll close your eyes.

You saved Finnick, and you are proud of yourself for that, but killing Caius has been so easy you are actually scared of yourself.

Yourself, yourself, yourself…

«A group of soldiers will come to take Finnick back to the District.» Boggs explains, looking at the man’s leg. It is actually bad, but it could have been worse. «We’ll stay to continue the mission. All clear?»

«All clear.»

That is a true thing. That is cool. Finnick has to rest and he will be safer this way, unable to fight. Tomorrow you are going to kill President Snow and you can’t expect all of you to come back.

You are one of the weak ones. You are here because Coin is not happy with Haymitch, that’s what you think. She is using you to punish him. And maybe you have created problems too, with Caius and the bunker.

You deserve it, a voice specifies. You unalived someone today, after all. If someone deserves to die it’s not the Mockingjay, or the lover boy, or your fellow tributes.

In the blink of an eye two soldiers come into the bunker, but instead of going for Finnick, they come near you. 

You don’t know them. They are in the Thirteen uniform, so they must come from that district, but they are strangers. A blonde man and a dark haired one, face blank and very, very tall. They look scary enough, but you suppose it’s their job.

«Daisy Pinecone, you are under arrest for the murder of a District Thirteen citizen. You have the right to remain silent.» They say, and you can’t help but look at the others, but everybody is in the dark. 

They don’t know more than you do. 

«I beg your pardon?» You ask.

What is worse is that it’s true, but how can they know it? Did Finnick say something? It’s impossible, you trust him with your life, and he was sleeping with you when Boggs was talking with Haymitch.

«Everything you say can be used against you.» They keep going, but you search Katniss with your eyes. They grab your arms and try to lift you up.

«Daisy, go with them.» Boggs orders you. «We will clarify everything.»

You quickly become terrified. Where are they taking you? If nobody knows, will you come back? They don’t like you. Will you be tortured? People are getting tortured in Thirteen.

You have the bracelet, you suddenly remember. Haymitch knows where you are.

«Call Haymitch! Please, call Haymitch!» You scream to the Mockingjay while they take you away.

You don’t even get to see if she heard you.

[kcrclrezni]

The whispers started even before his first day at the Academy. It seemed that someone always had some sort of opinion about the younger Lantsov (though truth be told, everyone always had opinions about all of the Lantsovs). There were, of course, the rumors of his parentage. His mother hailed from District Three, the daughter of the Mayor, but some said so too did his real father. Then there were the comparisons. Nikolai was used to being compared to his older brother, but his physical appearance and sharpness quickly caused conversation on his resemblance to another noteworthy figure in the Capitol.

He was stopped on his way to the Academy that first day by a woman with rather distinct physical characteristics. She was kind and she carried a white rose, which she effortlessly fixed to his lapel as she wished him well. He couldn't help but laugh at her response when he'd asked her name. It was rather obvious, wasn't it?

Nikolai Lantsov made quite an entrance at the Academy that day. Though he never again wore a rose on his lapel, the eyes of Panem were on him from that moment forward. The people became fond of him (at least in the Capitol). Some even began to refer to him as the Sun of Panem. Head of his class, he had high hopes of attending the University and perhaps going into government one day. The whispers became hard for anyone to ignore. One day Nikolai Lantsov would be President. The people had no doubt...

President Snow, however, had other ideas.

It seemed enrollment into the University was a given, but his application was denied and he was instead told he would be sent to District Three, told he'd be training to design something having to do with improving the games. It all felt so vague and rushed and very, very wrong. The woman who had given him the rose years ago found him just as he was boarding the train and gave him a warning. Watch your back.

Two months later, the Lantsov family received a letter from President Snow himself. Nikolai Lantsov had been killed in District Three, attacked by rebels due to his affiliation with the Capitol. His body had been found badly beaten and unrecognizable in a ditch.

The original story, of course, was going to be that Nikolai Lantsov had been shot from behind. Because that's exactly what had happened. He had been left in a ditch by the Peacekeepers who'd done the deed, but when they'd returned to retrieve his body, it was gone.

Sturmhond was born out of necessity and bitter revenge. The boy who had died had never been in favor of the Hunger Games, but the privateer soon became adamantly against it. With his mind for engineering, he fit in effortlessly with the rebels of District Three. In those first few months after debuting his new identity, he spent nearly every minute of every day bent over the drafting table. That's how the Mockingjay, a near-silent airship came into being. He and his crew started out small, but soon became more brazen, traveling between districts in a way no others could and uniting those whose voices had been silenced for far too long. It was only a matter of time before they set their sights on the Capitol.

[thetypewritingkate]

"a time with snow." by thesmileykate

Chapter Seven: "the game."

"We could just kill the boy." Snow searched the chairs to find the proposition's source until his eyes fell on a frail, graying woman. Augustina Ravinstill. A mousy woman, Ravinstill rarely spoke above a whisper. Usually, she struggled to get a word in, with the other advisors overpowering her and whatnot. But she did this time. And her suggestion had merit. Snow raises his hand, instantly stopping the noise masquerading as debate. Maybe they should just kill the boy. He has certainly lost his usefulness. Maybe the only thing left to break the Mockingjay is to watch her beloved die on national television. Traditionally, in the Capitol, they tend to keep the public executions civilized, opting for a firing squad. Capitol citizens can rarely stand seeing their neighbors killed in front of them, so a quick shot to kill a body whose face is hidden with a sack it is. A quick and simple execution, but effective nonetheless."

OR

Snow continues to think of ways to use Peeta against Katniss.

Read on AO3

[justash02]

Trader~

Pairing; Min Yoongi X reader

Plot; in a world where two people, a boy and a girl. All from different district get put into a game, were the only rule is to be killed or kill. Y/n finds herself in a tricky situation when one of her friends seems all to friendly with the other tributes.

Find all my k-pop related work here -> masterlist

Requests are; open! Please if you have a request let me know :) I’ll be more than happy to make it!

Omg a post I’ve made like 2 years ago-

*^*^*

“Y/n L/n!”

My mind seemed to shot off as the words of Effie Trinket fell from her mouth, my leg didn’t seem to move as everyone turn to me. I could see the pity the eyes but what use did it have? Like their pity is going to not get killed in this barbaric game.

“Don’t be shy dear!” The irritating voice ran once again throughout the field filled with people who were just previously scared for their own life.

Suddenly I felt a strong grip on my arm pulling me out of my thoughts, my parents who were behind me were crying their eyes out but I was desperate not to show any emotion.

The other tributes who see me as a weak one, I’ll be the first target that they will see and the Capitol will see me just as weak. I’m not giving them that pleasure.

Before I could move the guard that was holding my wrist pulled me out of the crowed and onto the stage, almost making me trip.

“Give a big applause for Y/n L/n!” Effie exclaimed enthusiastically, the crowd slowly raised their hands and slowly clapped. Soon Effie told everyone to be quiet as she walked over to the big glass bowl full of the names of the boys.

But I payed no mind, I was too busy praying for my best friend to be safe. But the chances of him getting picked are a lot higher than mine were, in that entire bowl full of names there are 24 with his name.

“Please god. Let Jeongguk be safe.” I mumbled under my breath as I intertwined my fingers together, my hands were sweaty as I was waiting anxiously for the woman with the blue curly hair.

“Jeon Jeongguk!” My eyes in an instant went over to the crowd and my eyes immediately met Jeongguk’s ones, he nodded shortly at me before walking to the stage.

The boy soon reached the stage and Effie introducties us as the new tributes for the annual Hunger Games. “Come on, shake hands.” My eyes scanned Jeongguk as he held out his hand.

Slowly but surely and grabbed his hand with a tight grip and shook it, the crowd once again clapped as the guards walked us in the building of Justice leaving all of the people from district 12 in a somber state that once again, two young people were most likely going to die.

Again.

The guard behind me kept pushing me till I was in one of the room on my left, I tried to catch myself but it was too late. Before I knew it I was face down onto the floor as a painful yelp left my mouth, I heard Jeongguk yell at the guards but they just laughed while walking away.

*^*^*

“Y/n! Over here!” Jeongguk called out to me, I looked over at the boy was saw that he was trying to make a fire by rubbing the wooden stick into the other pieces of wood. I smiled and walked over to him, I softly ran my hand through his hair and watched as he got excited as smoke started moving upwards.

Haymitch had a plan, a plan where Jeongguk and I acted like lovers as a strategy to get more sponsors, and if you get sponsors the better of a chance you have of survival.

The sponsors will- well, sponsor, and when they do and haymitch has enough money to buy something for us like food or medicine it get put into a small container with a parachute that makes a beeping sound, alerting you that there has been giving something.

But the part about being utterly in love with Jeongguk isn’t hard, he’s my best friend and we’ve always been close but I saw something in his eyes as Haymitch introduced this part of the plan... he seeme excited?

Jeongguk and I, we’ve known each other since I can remember. Jeongguk is originally from districts 2, one of the more luxury districts.

Jeongguk being from district 2 means that he was trained to be in the hunger games and same goes for districts 1 and 4. We in district 12, call them careers districts.

The careers are vicious killing machines that seek pride in other tributes deaths, It’s unknown to me why Jeongguk came to 12 in the first place but I knew that it had something to do with the way people worked there.

He told me he felt disgusted by the fact that people laughed everytime as innocence lives were being taken.

“Looks like you have an admirer.” Jeongguk whispered softly pulling me out of my thoughts, I frowned as I looked up, my eyes immediately met the cold ones of Min Yoongi.

Min Yoongi, who didn’t know this handsome man probably lived under a rock, he had won the games about 3 years ago when he was 15. He was, and still is the youngest tribute to win the games.

I felt intimidated by his strong glance on me as I quickly turned around, “Maybe he wants to be allies...” jeongguk said but I could tell his voice sounded discomforting.

Min Yoongi, wanting allies? Yeah right. “I’m going to practice painting.” I spoke softly, jeongguk smiled and stood up. “Good idea, I’ll be at bow shooting.” He spoke, he leaned in and went to kiss my lips but I turned my head so he had to kiss my cheek.

I could tell from the way his eyebrows were pressed together he wasn’t happy, but I didn’t care, I’m not doing all that kissing unless it’s really needed.

He scoffed under his breath as he turned around to walk away, I let out a breath that I didn’t know I was holding.

I still felt the eyes of the boy from district 2 on me but I decided that I would wait till he approached me. If he even was going to approach me.

From the stories that I’ve heard from other people, Yoongi isn’t a pleasant person, he’s rude, doesn’t take advice for the crew that is trying to give you tips to at least survive a bit longer in the games. And he’s just overly stubborn.

But I guess if I won the games before I wouldn’t listen to anyone either, besides the fact that he is so rude the boy is also unbearably handsome, like god really does have favorites.

I decided to just stop thinking about it and walk to the painting corner, as I got there I was quick to realize that not a lot people used this corner, a least the careers didn’t.

I walked over to the table where every color that you can even imagine was on the table, I grabbed the color that I thought I was need and walked over to the bench that was next to the table.

I sat down and start working on my arm, I tried to imagine an senario where I could possibly be need paint. Maybe I could paint myself in a tree so that I’m not noticeable, or maybe if I’m wounded I could use it so that I don’t have to travel far to be safe.

Suddenly a felt the bench shake, I quickly cover my mouth to keep a noise coming out of my mouth as I looked next to me.

Yoongi was right next to me, he didn’t look up from my arm. He carefully ran his finger over the realistic paint and nodded, as if he was approving. Slowly he leaned back, away from me making it more

“Keep working at your arm, and don’t look at me.” His voice was raspy as he grabbed the paint that was next to me, I quickly looked back at my arm as I pretended to be working on it. What is going on?

“Looks like lover boy is jealous.” He whispers as he worked on his own arm, i decided to go against his words and look Jeongguks direction, I was met with eyes that were normally so soft were now almost black with hatred.

I didn’t know where the courage came from but the words fell out of my mouth before I knew it; “I don’t know why he be jealous, you’re not that handsome.”

He laughed softly before straightening his back as he looked at me, he slowly moved his hand to move the hair that was in front my face behind my ear as he slowly smirk.

A fire filled my body that I’ve never felt before, suddenly I craved move of his touch. As I realized what I was doing I quickly pushed him away standing up myself, but before I could walk away I felt his hand on my wrist.

“The people closest to you are the most dangerous.”

[heavensbeehall]

"Mockingjay", Chapter 23

Part 3: The Assassin

Chapter 23: ... so everyone is dead including the random lady with a sausage that Katniss shot. What is left of Squd 451 has made it to the City Center. They play dress up in the dead woman's apartment. Cressida leads them to Tigris. You remember Tigris, right? From the Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes! Tigris hides them in her shop. Katniss confesses that she has no assignment to kill Snow and everyone is like, "Duh." Peeta says they really thought she could kill him and I have questions about that. Tigris gives them food. Then Katniss overhears Gale and Peeta talking. Gale gives a somewhat harsh--in my opinion--assessment of who Katniss will pick.

One glance at my companions tells me this is no time for a stealth attack on Snow. Gale's still losing blood from the neck wound, which we haven't even cleaned. Peeta's sitting on a velvet sofa with his teeth clamped down on a pillow, either fighting off madness or containing a scream. Pollux weeps against the mantel of an ornate fireplace. Cressida stands determinedly at my side, but she's so pale her lips are bloodless.

Squad goals, amirite? (Also lol at the two women being the only ones to hold it together. Cressida is probably the Victor of the 76th Hunger Games? Any objections? I love Pollux but I think his head isn't in the game since his brother died.)

Behind a counter sits the strangest person I've ever seen. She's an extreme example of surgical enhancement gone wrong, for surely not even in the Capitol could they find this face attractive. The skin has beenpulled back tightly and tattooed with black and gold stripes. The nose has been flattened until it barely exists. I've seen cat whiskers on people in the Capitol before, but none so long. The result is a grotesque, semi-feline mask, which now squints at us distrustfully.

Here's my Tigris headcanon: She starts as a stylist to help her Cousin. She believes he will stop the Hunger Games when he becomes President. ... Except he doesn't. She makes excuses for him for awhile. She loves him. Being part of the Games every year makes her anxious. She turns to her mother's fur coat, and later other fur items (as Katniss does with the pearl) in her anxiety.

Eventually there comes a breaking point, probably at the "earliest Games" Katniss remembers when she was last a stylist. Tigris is probably a stylist for 1, 2 or 4 because we know them to be the most successful districts and we know Tigris to be a bad bitch. Given that she is part of the Rebellion and 4 is the only Career district part of the Rebellion, it's likely things came to a head whens she is told what the Victors have to do... sexually. The same things Tigris herself had to do for Snow, who was also once her boy.

Snow tries to convince her of his dark view of humanity--that the Hunger Games is humanity "undressed" (as Gaul says in the film). That this is who we are. Tigris doesn't want to believe this. She doesn't want to be part of humanity if that is what we are. She makes herself look like a cat. Because if the Hunger Games is who humanity is, then she doesn't want to be human. She probably helps with the attempted rebellion through Finnick, which gets put down by Snow and is then banished to this sad corner of the Capitol, where she waits, hoping for change but not truly believing it will come--when Katniss Everdeen walks through her door. Tigris can't kill her Cousin. (Perhaps murder is not in her?) But Katniss can.

Tigris gives a low growl, not unlike one Buttercup might greet me with.

I like how Buttercup (who Katniss hates!) is associated with Tigris and Katniss, who are our heroes. Be more like cats. They might be mean and dumb, but have they ever committed genocide or done a Hunger Games...?

[miles-of-heart]

A petite Asian woman with a sharp chin and a sharper gaze opened the door and gave them an unimpressed once-over before saying, “Can I help you?”

“I’m Special Agent Song Lan, this is my partner, Special Agent Xiao Xingchen,” he introduced them as they both flashed their badges. “We’re hoping to speak with Mr. Wen Ning. We’re have some questions about the school shooting at Yiling Elementary 13 years ago that we’re hoping will help us shed light on a homicide we’re investigating.”

The woman frowned at them. “I’m not sure how we could be of much help. A-Ning doesn’t need visitors today.”

“Jiejie?” called a voice from behind her. “I don’t mind, show them in.”

The woman’s lips pursed in disagreement, but she held the door open and gestured for them to enter. She led them into a modest living room and offered them a seat on the overstuffed couch. Bookshelves lined one wall of the room, with photos displayed on many of them. A newspaper left on the coffee table was open to a page with the headline: “More Questions than Progress in Capitol Hill Murders.”  

Movement drew Song Lan’s eye to the doorway to the kitchen, where a man in a wheelchair was wheeling himself into the room with a tray settled across the arms. Song Lan noted that the man’s left leg ended at the knee, and he frowned.

The man smiled warmly at them.

“I’m Wen Ning. My sister, Wen Qing, you’ve met already. Would you like some tea?”

Xiao Xingchen returned his smile easily. “Thank you. That’s very kind of you.”

Wen Ning poured a cup of tea and handed it across. “My sister is protective, but she means well.”

The sister in question had settled herself into a straight-backed chair, but still held herself stiffly as she glared disapprovingly at them.

Song Lan shook his head at the offer of tea and pulled a small notepad from his pocket.

Wen Ning’s open face clouded. “You have a few questions for me? I’m not sure how much help I can be; I don’t remember much from the day of the shooting.”

“But you were there that day?” asked Xiao Xingchen gently.

“Yes.” Then He smiled, but there was something tragic in the curve of it. “I served a tour in Afghanistan, you know. Jiejie worried constantly; she was terrified the entire time I was in the service. People see my leg and assume it’s cause I’m a vet, that I was wounded in action.” He shook his head. “I wasn’t. Jiejie was so relieved when I made it home without a scratch. After I got out, I started working as a teacher’s aide at an elementary school in Florida, and that's when I got shot and ended up losing my leg. Now does that make any kind of sense to you, that a kindergarten classroom put me in more danger than being in a literal warzone?”

“No,” said Xingchen simply. “It’s all kinds of wrong. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“One of the other victims shared your surname,” said Song Lan. “Wen Yuan.”

Pain crossed Wen Ning’s face, and his sister’s lips pinched tighter. “Our cousin. He was six years old. He meant everything to us.”

Wen Ning wheeled himself across the room to the bookshelves and retrieved a framed photo, handing it to Song Lan. “That’s him in the middle there.”

The photo looked like it was taken at a park, maybe a birthday party. It was a group photo with two little kids in the front, one of them holding Wen Ning’s hand. The sister stood beside him, and three other women stood in a row behind.

“The other little boy is Jin Ling, they were in the same class. The woman behind him is Jiang Yanli – Jin Ling’s mother. She was the room mother for their class, volunteering that day. She was killed too.”

“Jiang Yanli was a saint among mortals,” said Wen Qing softly, her eyes unfocused and distant. “For someone so sweet and so impossibly lovely to die so violently…” her words trailed off as she looked away and blinked back tears.

“Jin Ling survived,” said Wen Ning. “He’s a good kid.”

The smiling faces in the photo were painful to look at, knowing how much grief and pain came to these people so soon after this picture must have been taken. As he looked it over carefully, Song Lan realized one of the women in the back row was a familiar face.

He looked up at Wen Ning. “You know Lan Wangji?”

Xiao Xingchen looked over at the question, taking a closer look at the photo. He looked up at Song Lan, surprise and questions in his eyes.

“Sure, although we haven't spoken much since she left the Yiling area years ago. You know her?” he asked curiously.

Xiao Xingchen nodded. “She’s provided some insight into some recent cases we’ve been investigating.”

“I didn’t realize she was from Yiling,” said Song Lan neutrally.

“She grew up in the next county over, but since her mother taught at Yiling Elementary School, she was in town often. Our families became close after I started teaching at the same school.”

Xiao Xingchen met Song Lan’s eyes. That was a bit of trivia Lan Wangji had neglected to mention.

“You didn’t know? I’m not surprised she didn’t mention it. Lan Wangji has always been a very private person, and the loss of her mother was devastating. It was for everyone, really. Mrs. Lan was everyone’s favorite third grade teacher. She was a mentor to me, too. I don’t know how I would have gotten through my first year teaching without her.”

Song Lan handed the picture back to him and said as sincerely as he could, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Wen Ning took the picture and touched the smiling faces fondly, grief evident in his eyes as he smiled sadly. “Me too,” he said.

Song Lan glanced around the room at other pictures on display. One across the room caught his eye – Wen Ning and a woman, both in uniform, arms slung around each other’s shoulders. Song Lan thought she might even be the last woman in the park photo, but he couldn’t be sure without looking more closely.

“How long were you in the service?” he asked, gesturing at the photo.

Wen Ning looked up at it and smiled. “Four years active duty, two more in the reserves. My friend there, she’s the one who designed my prosthetic.” He nodded to the futuristic looking a prosthetic leg on a stand in the corner. “It’s uncomfortable to wear all the time while I’m at home, but it’s a damn good prosthetic.”

“He’s won a 10K with that leg,” added Wen Qing proudly.

Xiao Xingchen smiled. “How wonderful!”

Song Lan’s mind, however, was turning. If the prosthetic made him so agile, what else might he be capable of? “What kind of special weapons training did you have while you were in the service?”

“Wait,” said Wen Qing, her eyes narrowing. They all looked at her and she stared between the two FBI agents for a moment. “That sounds like Wen Ning a suspect. What is this really about?”

“As I said, we’re looking for information that may shed light on a current case.”

Wen Qing glanced down at the newspaper on the coffee table, then back up at Song Lan, suspicious. “This is about the assassinations, isn’t it?”

Wen Ning frowned at her, as if not following her sudden change in topic.

Wen Qing continued before anyone else could respond. “Lan Wangji’s last article in the Sentinel was about the irony of how the two top gun rights politicians in congress were gunned down. Are you thinking their murders are connected somehow to the Yiling massacre?”

“It’s one angle we’re exploring,” Xiao Xingchen said neutrally.

Wen Qing’s eyes narrowed further, and she cocked her head to the side. “You think someone has a lingering grievance they might like to take out against some gun-toting politicians? Someone who has enough experience with weapons to carry out multiple assassinations without getting caught?”

She stood suddenly. “You know my brother is far from the only person in this country with weapons training, right?” She was angry now. “You’ve got the wrong man. My brother served because he’s a patriot and loves his country and wanted a chance to go to college. But he’s a cinnamon roll! He would never do something like this.”

“Jiejie…”

Xiao Xingchen stood and held out his hands in a reassuring gesture. “We’re not making any accusations. We’re just exploring the leads as we find them and gathering all the information we can. We’re just trying to understand the full picture.”

“We’ve answered your questions. You can leave now. Don’t come back unless you call ahead so we can make sure to have a lawyer present.”