17170 Votes Bro

17170 votes bro💀

Fair Masterlist

Leon Kennedy x Gender-Neutral Reader

Two traumatized friends find their lives hopelessly intertwined with one another. It’s the best and worst thing that’s happened to them and neither can deal with the resulting feelings, causing them to run away again and again, only to find themselves crawling right back to one another.

Or; you and Leon are hopelessly in love with one another but can’t deal with it without hurting one another.

Current word count is 31 040

Tags for the whole fic: slow burn, mutual pining, friends to lovers, idiots in love, the reader has an unnamed chronic illness and chronic pain as well as Leon's chronic pain, medical procedures, blood, touch-starved reader and Leon, alcoholism, implied sexual content, loss of virginity, implied and outright mentioned suicidal thoughts, scars, eventual smut, canon-typical violence/blood/gore, needles, near death experiences, body horror. More tags will be added and every chapter has specifics, along with the general tags here.

Author's note: Fair starts off post-RE6 and follows through Vendetta and (eventually) Death Island. It is split up on ao3 for ease of tagging and keeping Vendetta's and Death Island's events separate.

This fic is a very personal one and my favourite thing I have ever written. My beloved Bee Idiots always have a place in my heart 🖤

♥︎ - fluff | ⚔ - angst |⛥ - smut | ☣ - horror

🐝 Fair 🐝

I – Bees, Unicorns and Sunflowers ⚔♥︎

II – Company ⚔

III – Mistakes ⚔

IV – Not Enough ⚔

V – It Will Come Back ⚔♥︎

VI – Bittersweet Confessions ⚔♥︎

VII - A Little Sting ⛥♥︎

🐝 Fade To Black 🐝

VIII - Break The Cycle ⚔♥︎

IX - Bad Moon Rising ⚔♥︎

X - Fade To Black ⚔☣

XI - Hands Of Time (Around My Neck) ⚔☣

XII - Consequences of Rewriting Fate ⚔♥︎☣

To be continued...

🐝 Extras 🐝

Playlist and moodboard

Posted on ao3

Quotes that fit them and other rambling involving Fair can be found under the tag #fic: fair

My work is only posted on here and ao3. I do not give permission for it to be copied or translated. If you find it posted somewhere else please let me know.

Book Snow is just a different breed💀

Friendly Reminder of Snow's inner monologue in the book:

He thought of people putting a price on her. With her long, pointed nose and skinny body, Tigris was no great beauty, but she had a sweetness, a vulnerability that invited abuse.

What was Sejanus up to? Was he trying to outdo him and steal the day’s thunder? To take his idea of coming to the zoo and then dress it up in a way Coriolanus could never compete with, because he could never afford to?

His filly in a race, his dog in a fight. The more he had treated her as something special, the more she’d become human.

Lucy Gray was one thing belonging to Coriolanus that he would never, ever get.

The thought of blackmailing old Strabo Plinth had definite appeal.

Someone suggested that he cared for her like a sister, and although he’d done nothing of the sort, he allowed it. No need to disrespect the dead.

Even his encouragement to sing for sponsors was an attempt to prolong the attention she brought him.

His girl. His. Here in the Capitol, it was a given that Lucy Gray belonged to him, as if she’d had no life before her name was called out at the reaping.

Even if Lucy Gray was confused on the issue, in the eyes of the Capitol, she belonged to him. What point would there be in crediting a district tribute?

If no one else seemed to be bothered by her questionable past, why should he be? (Questionable past being the fact that she had a love life before him)

A second-class citizen. Human, but bestial. Smart, perhaps, but not evolved. Part of a shapeless mass of unfortunate, barbaric creatures that hovered on the periphery of his consciousness. (Thinking about Lucy Gray)

“Sejanus Plinth,” said Coriolanus. Not that they were actually friends, but that wasn’t any of Dean Highbottom’s business.

Mrs. Plinth shook her head. “No. No. Your cousin’s his only friend.” How sad, thought Coriolanus. To have no friends.

Coriolanus couldn’t help feeling embarrassed for her. If you ever needed proof of the districts’ backwardness, there you had it. Primitive people with their primitive customs.

“Oh, yes?” said Coriolanus, only to be polite. Honestly, who cared? His entire future was on the line because of her wayward son.

But playing on that might be the way to manipulate him.

Coryo was a nickname for old friends. For family. For people Coriolanus loved. And this was the moment Sejanus decided to try it out? If he’d had the energy, Coriolanus would have reached over and strangled him.

“Superb,” he said. “Like everything you cook, Mrs. Plinth.” It wasn’t an exaggeration. Ma might be pathetic, but she was something of an artist in the kitchen.

The conversation wasn’t going the way Coriolanus had imagined. Where was the talk of reward money?

...but the point was, he got to keep her. And he wanted to keep her. Safe and close at hand.

Perhaps there was a way out of his predicament after all? Another path to influence and power?

He’d been broke most of his life, but the Snows had always worked hard to maintain decency. These people had given up, and some part of him blamed them for their plight. (Thinking about District 12 people)

“No escaping that.” He leaned over and kissed her, flushed with happiness, because although he did not believe in celestial writings, she did, and that would be enough to guarantee her loyalty.

In some ways, it had been better to have her locked up in the Capitol, where he always had a general idea of what she was doing.

Oh, a ghost story. Ugh. Boo. So ridiculous. Well, he’d try hard to love it when he saw the Covey tomorrow.

“Guns? Not that I know of. How would he get guns?” Coriolanus was beginning to enjoy himself a bit. (During the interrogation after Sejanus' execution)

She wouldn’t be thrilled, obviously, when he told her there’d been a change of plans. That he was returning to the Peacekeepers and heading to District 2 tomorrow at dawn, essentially leaving her to her fate. (As soon as he realised that he wouldn't get caught, he immediately thought of going back to District 2 with no concern for Lucy Gray)

As good as the movie was, I do think that it's at fault for so many people falling for the idea that Snow wasn't always bad. He was, but it wasn't so obvious at first. As you can see, he always thought of himself and how things would benefit him. He looked down on Sejanus and his ma even though they were nothing but kind to him. He saw Lucy Gray as his possession. He was greedy and selfish, always trying to come up with ways to manipulate whatever situation he was in to his advantage. I really wish the movie showed that more.

the ruler and the killer. || r. evil (one)

summary: a strange village, missing hikers, a missing girl - Kara's on her first official mission since joining the DSO.

pairing: leon s. kennedy x oc

disclaimer: descriptions of violence, blood + gore, references to re2

next >

“Kara, you can use any weapon - the key is to focus and control your breathing.”

Her father crouched next to her as she drew back the arrow, the fletch barely touching her cheek as she focused on the doe peacefully grazing grass from across the way. She took a deep breath as the cold November air nips at her nose and cheek. She felt the tips of her fingers going numb as she waited patiently before deciding to fire, watching the arrow fly.

She heard the doe cry into the air before falling over into the grass.

Kara opens her eyes and she’s still in the Jeep heading to Valdelobos, this was her first actual mission outside of doing damage control on behalf of the DSO whenever an outbreak occurred stateside. She looks out the window at the trees, how they were dying, and how she knew in a matter of months that it would be winter again. Her knowledge of nature and everything that was taught to her by her father was the reason that she was a good partner for the mission to save the President’s daughter. 

“You alright?” Leon asks, she glances over at him and nodded, “Nightmares again?”

Leon Kennedy was probably the only friend that Kara had, and only because Kara didn’t have much time for much else when she wasn’t dealing with June or work. He’d been the golden boy of the DSO, and Kara could expect it - he was a cop when they first met six years ago, and it was because of him that she and June survived alongside Claire and Sherry. But outside of that, it seemed that he understood her better than most.

He lived with her and June, and whenever she had a fit of nightmares or he did - they were the go-to for each other’s comfort.

She shakes her head, “No, just, dreaming about the first time I went hunting with my dad.”

“Ah,” Leon says as he looks ahead at the two cops escorting them, “you drool by the way.”

Kara smacked his chest, causing a quiet laugh to escape Leon before she huffs, “How much further?”

“Can’t be too far, however, our escorts are more or less excited about actually getting us there,” Leon says before looking down at the photo in his hand.

Kara looked down, the photo was of the woman they were both here to look for. More so Leon rather than her. Blonde bob, a kind face, and wearing an orange jacket and red scarf, it was the last photo taken of Ashley Graham shortly before her disappearance from the Georgetown campus. Kara sighed. She hoped that the girl would be alright - 

“So, tell me, Yanqui...” One of the officers, specifically the one in the passenger seat spoke, “why did you come to this horrible place?”

He glances over at Kara, “Not much of a place for a honeymoon, it’s as close to nowhere than I’ve ever seen.”

Kara rolled her eyes and for once, held back her tongue as Leon spoke, “Let’s just say... looking for someone.”

The cop laughs just a bit, “That someone must be pretty important, eh?” He glances over at his partner, “Can you believe it? These two show up, and the Chief himself says, ‘help them’...”

Leon rolls his eyes, “Well I’m sure you boys didn’t come all the way out here to roast marshmallows, or maybe you did.”

“Or to maybe sit on their thumbs,” Kara says, making Leon chuckle.

The cop shakes his head as he looks between the two, “You two have a very strange sense of humor - I’m going to let you in on a little secret, just between us, a lot of people have gone missing around here and it’s been that way for a while now.”

Leon was rather unbothered, “Well, then it should be just another day in the office... right?”

Kara’s interest becomes more piqued as the officer continues, “Well, I mean, just last week there was a search for some missing hikers.”

“I’m sure you’ll do you best to help us,” Leon says

Kara eyes the officer, “I promise, we don’t get startled easily.”

The jeep later comes to a halt and the officer steps out, Kara sighs as she gets out of the car to stretch. She looks around, the dying trees reminded her of the few times she went to stay at the cabin with her father during deer season. She could still remember learning how to set up the stands prior, wearing her grandfather’s heavy coat to mask her scent from the animals, to think that she was out here only because of those moments, it was those skills that had become a second nature to her. 

She sighs, Leon spoke up, “You sure you wanna be out here?”

“Could’ve asked me that back at the airport,” Kara says as she looks over at him, “I’m kind of already out here.”

“Fair point,” He says as he looks around, “have you looked at the maps for this place?”

“So much that I can see ‘em behind my eyelids at night,” Kara says as she gets off the jeep, she glances around until she spots a familiar plant, “Hey wait a minute...”

Leon follows behind her, “Kara, wait -”

“Relax,” Kara says as she plucks the sprig, the smell hits her nose, “It’s rosemary, good for muscle spasms and headaches, also tastes really good on chicken.”

He chuckles as she hands him the sprig as she stands back up, he studies it, “How do you know?’

“Well, Mom used to dabble with home remedies despite her being a nurse,” Kara explains as she looks at the bush, “Strange it’s growing in the mountains - well, more so these parts, it grows near the coast.”

“Seems like there’s a lot of strange things around here,” Leon comments as he glances around, he looks up to see a raven flying overhead of them, “Gotta keep our heads together.”

“Right.”

Leon Kennedy has known Kara Ridenour for about six years now, and never did he think he would find himself entangled in her life. Especially moving in with her sometime after Raccoon City, he had become a close friend as the two only had one another with everything that had happened.

He didn’t want her to come with him - but it was heavily suggested for two reasons; Kara was a survivalist, a hunter who could be a great help and the other, making it just a bit less terrifying for when they find Ashley. Despite the reasoning, he knew how much she didn’t want to leave home, how much she didn’t want to leave June. Plus, the last time he had a partner for a mission, it didn’t exactly go as planned.

“I got you something,” Leon tells her, eyeing her, “it’s in the trunk of the Jeep.”

Kara raised her brow and followed him to the back, he pops the door and reveals a large black bag aside from his own gear. He grabs the bag and opens it up, “I talked to the weapons development team about coming up with something that you might be a bit more comfortable with, still keep that pistol but…”

Her eyes widened at the black recurve bow in front of her, “Here I thought you said bows were impractical.”

He chuckles, “There’s a bit more a kick to at least the arrows. They’re marked properly; red is explosive, black is regular run of the mill, crafted to be more silent in case we run into trouble.”

Her delicate fingers dance along the leather quiver and the fletch for the arrows themselves, “You think we’ll run into trouble?”

“Not too crazy to think so,” He says as he looks over at her, “you like it?”

“Yeah, feels so… special,” Kara says as she pulls out the quiver and slings it across her body, “so, it’s specially crafted for bioweapons and all that?”

Leon nodded as she goes to grab the bow, “Yeah, pulled a lot of favors - I know how you feel about guns so, thought this would be a nice little ‘first mission’ present.”

She chuckles, cracking a small smile, “God, is it that painfully obvious?”

“I live with you, I know you,” Leon says nudging her, “I know it’s not ideal but you’re capable and I believe in you, if that means anything.”

“It means a lot,” She says, looking up at him - he found himself momentarily stunned by her hazel eyes, they were more blue than anything, but so pretty in the little bit of sunlight coming down, “thank you, Leon.”

He gives a small smile, and he could feel it that maybe this was the time to tell her what’s been brewing in his mind for the last six years but he backs off, he looks around. It had been awhile since that cop walked off.

It was then the partner got out of the Jeep, “Hey he’s been gone awhile - maybe you both should go and take a look. I’ll watch the car, don’t want to get a parking ticket and all that.”

Kara rolls her eyes and gets herself situated, bow in hand and quiver across her back as the two start walking. Leon looks over, “So much for helping, huh?”

Kara shakes her head, “They weren’t gonna help regardless.”

The two began walking into the forest, she was so used to a few birds singing here and there but in this instance, the woods were silent. Not a song to be heard.

“No birds are really out,” Kara says as she crushes a leaf under her boot, “strange.”

“Isn’t that normal?” Leon asks

She shakes her head, “I mean it is and it isn’t, aside from the crow we saw - it’s been silent, I don’t like that.”

“This place gets stranger by the minute,” Leon spoke as he looks around while they walk, “How far could that guy have gone?

The rancid smell of decay hits her nose as they stumble further and find a deer carcass. Kara covers her nose as Leon’s nose scrunches in disgust, “Gross.”

Kara takes her hand off her nose, “Definitely. I’d say at least if you’re planning on taking the bones - could’ve, I don’t know, actually cleaned the corpse? Take the insides and well, let nature and the sun do the rest.”

Leon eyes her, “Speaking from experience?”

“Yeah, Dad would keep the skulls after using the meat for jerky and really whatever,” Kara says as she kneels down to get a closer look, she noted the melted red candles that surrounded, “this… this is more sacrificial, see the candles?”

Leon nodded as he put a few of the candles out, “Think it’s a cult?”

Kara’s eyes met his, “I don’t know but this is all still fresh, at least maybe thirty minutes to an hour, tops. So whoever left it here would be…” she looks around before spotting the rest of the trail, “there, grass is down so someone must’ve stepped through recently.”

“Where would I be without you?” Leon spoke as the two started walking again, “seriously - how do you know this stuff?”

“Told you before - I grew up in a small town in the Arklay Mountains, Dad was a cop and Mom was a nurse. Dad didn’t have a son so I went on all the hunting trips with him, he was a survivalist but maybe a tad bit bordering on doomsday prepper.” she spoke as a bird flew overhead, “I mean, he’d be happy to know it wasn’t all for nothing, at least.”

“You grew up near Raccoon City, how did...”

She sighs as she looks ahead, “Mom worked in the city, our little town was at least four or five hours away, but there’d already been a few reports of cannibals in the mountains, everyone around town suspected it was all some scary story, ya know, I mean, we were a month away from October.” The memory sent a shiver down her spine, “Mom was the first to get sick because she worked at the hospital, no meds were working, and we were already broke - so it was a lot of barely getting by, and Dad... well, he thought Jesus could fix it. When meds and prayer ran out, Mom died, we just didn’t think she’d get back up.”

They came to a stop at a hunting cabin, decrepit and definitely could’ve seen better days. More of the rancid smell of decaying flesh hit Kara’s nose. She stepped across the threshold first before Leon, a quick glance over, “I think whoever lives here is the one sacrificing animals, look.”

She points to where there were buckets of entrails among other things, some of it didn’t feel too entirely human, “They’ve been busy.”

“Let’s head inside, yeah?” Leon says as he steps in front of her, the two walk inside the cabin as he calls out, “Anyone home?”

Kara looked around, the house was dirty and dilapidated, it had gone to ruin and the candlelight made her wonder if someone was still here. She also noticed strange effigies, she stepped away from Leon to pick one up, the strangeness made her think of The Blair Witch Project.

“Kara.” Leon spoke, she turned and he gestured for her to follow him.

She does and the pair walk into a room where a bearded man mutters to himself in Spanish, Kara looked down and noticed the cop’s badge. She picked it up as Leon made his way around the table to talk to the man, “Sorry to barge in like this, I'm looking for a police officer. Did he come this way?”

“Leon,” Kara spoke as she held up the badge for him to see, he turns to see it and it was then that she sees the man come up behind, “Leon, look out!”

Leon spun around to block the ace with the blade of his combat knife, the man spoke in Spanish, something that he barely could understand. Kara quickly went to fire, without even thinking, she shot and hit the man in his eye. He staggers back, Leon goes to kick and the man twists his neck when hitting the wall.

She walks over, and yanks the arrow from his eye before looking to Leon, “Is he dead?”

“He is,” Leon spoke before looking at her as he plucks a key from the corpse, “you did what you had to, thank you.”

Something about it still made Kara feel sick to her stomach as she slid the arrow back into her quiver.

The two explore the cabin further only to find the basement and to no surprise, the cop that had wandered off earlier. Kara crosses herself, saying a silent prayer as Leon’s nose scrunches in disgust and his eyes were in some sadness. Everything about this place was getting stranger by the minute.

“What the fuck…” Leon spoke before getting disturbed by the assumed dead man from earlier.

Kara watched in terror as shots rang out, and Leon had put the man down for good. Once they check the body, she noticed tendrils from the man’s neck, making her stomach twist. Nothing about this felt right, not in the slightest.

The two head up to the attic, Kara steps from Leon’s side to pour through diaries she found then it was a Bible, but none like she’s ever seen before. She overheard Leon talking to Hunnigan, but she was more or less engrossed in the Bible. She had grown up Baptist, her dad was a god-fearing man while her mother more or less took the words spoken during service as more a recommendation.

But the pictures, depicting sacrifice and worship were nothing she’s ever seen before. Leon’s voice broke her concentration, “Kara, Ashley’s in the village, so we got to-“

The sounds of angry locals trying to break down the door, alerted them both. In a split second break, as Leon bolted out the window, Kara follows. He catches her before quickly sitting her on her feet. The two began to run, Kara could hear her heart in her ears, feeling it beat in her throat as she kept up with Leon.

“Kara, what does an animal do when it’s cornered?”

Kara looked beyond at the doe, her small hands wrapped around the old recurve that used to belong to her grandfather.

“It fights.”

Her father smiled in approval, “Good, now what do we do when we’re cornered?”

“What it takes to survive.”

I know the reader's age isn't really specified but it makes this whole blackmail thingy more disturbing when you consider the usual age of reaping for the tributes. Considering that, it makes Snow more rotten to the core for forcing the poor girl into submitting to him. More unto that is basically holding her family's life over her so that he could force her more into doing his will and forcing her to move with him in the Capitol.

Coriolanus Snow when I catch you...

A Caged Bird (Coriolanus Snow x Reader)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, blackmail, stalking, abuse of power, hints of dacryphilia, slightly spoiler-esque

summary: Birds are best kept in a cage where one can see them...and where you know where they are at all times.

~

You thought that it was over when you won.

That’s what winning The Hunger Games meant, right? The psychological torture, the grueling conditions, and the fear that wouldn’t leave you until you finally left the arena was supposed to be over. You made it out through blood, sweat, and tears, and so your reward was to go home and reunite with your family and try your best to put the memories behind you.

Try your best to put him behind you.

So, why were you still being tormented?

When you first locked eyes with Coriolanus Snow, your first thought was how strikingly blue his were. Almost as if they weren’t real and had been specially manufactured in The Capitol for him, somehow. His hair, too, was just so much blonder than anything you’d seen in District 12, and again, you noted how so much about him seemed…artificial.

…but then he spoke…and the effect his voice had on you was very real.

“You don’t seem like you’re supposed to be here,” you’d said to him after stepping off of that train.

His response was expected, a charming chuckle leaving his pink lips, blond curls the perfect addition to his features.

“I’m not,” he slowly admitted.

The intensity behind his gaze whenever he so much as glanced at you was enough to make any girl’s heart race, and despite what you wished, you weren’t immune. He was beautiful—gorgeous as some of the other tributes and mentors liked to call him—and despite the initial intimidation, there was something about him that made you want to let your guard down.

…but he was your mentor…and a capitol citizen…and you were nothing more than his ticket to notoriety.

“Don’t you know who his dad was?” another tribute, one from one of the better districts, had said to you in a tone like you were stupid.

That was all the confirmation you needed, really.

…but he’d hopped onto the truck with you and gotten into that cage with you and brought you and your district mate food. He gave you poison to use against the other tributes. He wanted you to appeal to the audience so he’d have the funds to send you supplies. It was hard to decipher what was purely for show and what was just because he wanted you—and him by extension—to win. Perhaps, they were one in the same though, and it was impossible to have one without the other. Maybe it didn’t matter his reasons behind his desire to have his tribute win.

Maybe all that mattered was that you’d win.

…but that was when you thought winning meant you’d be free.

Coriolanus Snow was your best chance at winning, and so when the rebels rigged the arena, you didn’t hesitate to stay behind and save him. It wasn’t even a question in your mind because mentor or not, he was hurt, and you had to believe that that one fluke was not your only fighting chance. You couldn’t allow yourself to believe that in saving him, you’d allowed freedom to pass you by.

“You saved me,” he told you, a gentle brush of his handkerchief under your eye to catch your tears. “You saved me, and I am going to get you out of here.”

You had no idea then that he meant out of the games…and to him.

It was that flickering moment of doubt where you wondered if you could actually win, and you recalled what you’d said to him earlier about believing you could, how much you needed him to actually believe it. Now, you were the one doubting, and he could see it, blue gaze flicking over your face and soaking in the fear and uncertainty, because if you couldn’t win…

You’d die.

A lingering gaze and a tense atmosphere, and you felt yourself pulling back, realization hitting you as to just what you were about to let happen. It was hard to decipher who overstepped first, but you couldn’t allow yourself to get wrapped up in something that was only ever meant to be strictly professional. Coriolanus was your mentor, and you were his tribute.

That was all.

You didn’t know then the full lengths he went to just to ensure your victory. How could you? You were too busy trying to survive, trying to fight off rabid tributes and teenagers driven mad with the sole desire to just live. It was all so unfair and angering, and you were sure that with less focus, you might’ve gone insane too. You didn’t have the luxury to worry about your eerily handsome mentor and whatever ulterior motives he might’ve had to see you beat this thing.

So, when you did win, all you could feel was relief. All you could focus on was your family and their faces when you’d ultimately reunite with them. All you could even entertain were thoughts of pushing this very real nightmare to the back of your mind for as long as you possibly could. Initially, you didn’t even notice that you weren’t immediately reunited with your mentor when they crowned you as the winner and got you out of there.

At least, not until you came face to face with him in your own district.

“I thought they’d killed you. I didn’t know if my actions had come back on you too,” Coriolanus told you in a secluded corner, the loud music drowning out his words and the cover of darkness hiding your faces.

Those beautiful pale curls were gone, and any thought that so much of his beauty relied on his golden locks was gone too with one drink of him. He was still the same handsome boy that mentored you, the same one who’d garnered the nickname ‘gorgeous’ among the other tributes. Up on that stage, you’d been thrown to meet a familiar gaze, your harmonious tune pausing for half a second as he met your shocked stare with an expression of his own you couldn’t place, pink lips curved upwards ever so slightly.

Any question of how and why he was here had disappeared as you registered his words. Confusion filled you as you stared at him, a slight frown between your brows as you wracked your brain for how that could possibly make sense.

“Why would they kill me…?” you slowly asked him, and you and the shadows were all that was privy to his confession.

The water bottles, the handkerchief, and the snakes—even the poison. Coriolanus had cheated to secure your victory, broken rules that plucked him out of The Capitol and dropped him here in your very own district as a Peacekeeper. The shock you felt that your victory was far from a fair one warred with the confusion you felt as to why he’d risk everything just for you to win.

If you’d lost fair and square—as you probably should have—there was no doubt in your mind that he’d be safely tucked away in the lavishness of The Capitol instead of lingering about in some rundown excuse for a bar in lowly District 12. If he knew what awaited him should his treachery be discovered…then why chance it? Nothing about your brief tutelage with him could justify what he’d risked and ultimately lost.

You wanted to ask him why, but something in you was afraid of the answer.

That almost kiss—a kiss you hadn’t thought about in months—suddenly came to mind, and even though you didn’t ask him why, something in you knew why even if you wanted to deny it. It was there in the dim lighting and rowdy atmosphere of some rundown building that every minor interaction didn’t start to feel so minor.

Every brush of his hand against yours as he reached for you, the unsettling way he seemed to watch you in that short time that you’d simply written off as concern for his tribute, and the ruthless desire to see you out on the other side of the arena. The kiss that never was only seemed like a lapse in judgement to you then, but in this moment, you had suspicions that it was very much intentional.

You swallowed, realizing that in that brief internal introspection, Coriolanus hadn’t taken his eyes off of you once.

“Did they send you to District 12?” you finally asked him.

You didn’t know what gave you away. Perhaps your tone, maybe your face, or maybe your eyes weren’t as secretive as you’d like to believe. Either way, something about your visage and demeanor gave the blond man pause, head tilting just a tad as those baby blues glinted with something you didn’t recognize but you know you didn’t like. He studied your face before coming up with the answer he probably thought you wanted.

“Of course.”

You didn’t know if you believed him.

…and Coriolanus could tell.

You’d played enough cat and mouse games in the arena—you never thought you’d have to play them in your own home too.

Starving off the affections of some boy in your district wasn’t hard or uncharted territory. Even spurning the forbidden advances of a Peacekeeper or two wasn’t unheard of, but Coriolanus was different. He wasn’t some average Joe turned cop. He was born and raised in The Capitol with a powerful father, and even though the man had been taken before his time, your former mentor still had been brought up with the kind of influence and reach and mindset that surpassed the average Peacekeeper.

They were followers—controlled by The Capitol and tasked with maintaining order. Most were no more than dumb brutes, mindlessly following orders without question, simple enough to be bribed and swayed. If Coriolanus’ actions had shown you anything, it was that he was not a follower. He did what he wanted and played by his own rules, and it was how you found yourself hunted by a gaze you thought you’d left behind in the arena.

Since the discovery of your former mentor’s presence in your district, you never felt alone.

Every walk to trade for food felt shadowed, every footstep home was accompanied with an echo, and a sweep of your eye over the crowd as you played an instrument or sang a tune was rewarded with a familiar blue one that made your heart freeze. You were forced to ignore it no longer when a single rose was left for you on the doorstep, your ma’s gaze questioning as she held it out to you.

You didn’t know where or how he got it, but you only cared about giving it back.

“I can’t accept this,” you told him, gaze steady but fingers trembling as you held it out to him.

It was raining, and the cover over your heads sheltered you from the downpour, but it did little to drown out the sound of it. Coriolanus simply stared at the flower for what felt like too long, making no moves to take it from you, and you swallowed. His blue gaze zeroed in on the action before it lifted to your face.

“…and why not?”

“Because I think it means something different to you than it does to me.”

Your response was swift, and you watched him sigh, eventually reaching out to finger the flower like he did that day before he’d proceeded to put it behind your ear. He finally took it, and just like that day before the games, it found its way behind your ear once again. The only change this time was the shudder that traveled down your spine, and the apprehension you felt when his gaze met yours.

For the longest time, the only sound was that of the rain, a few stray drops making it’s way onto your face and clothes due to the wind. If the man before you still had the locks you’d met him with, they would’ve been rustling with the breeze, right now. Both of you were very still, or maybe it was just you—nervous and fearful of how he’d respond. He briefly looked past you, eyes glinting briefly before they hardened once again, his pink lips pressed together as he regarded you.

“…and if it does?”

He continued when you frowned.

“Mean something different to me than it does to you,” he elaborated, and you blinked.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to gather your thoughts.

“I know…that I’m only standing here, now, because of you,” you slowly started, watching him push his shoulders back. “I won because of you, I know that, but-.”

“Exactly,” he cut you off, making your lips part. “You won because of me…and everything I sacrificed was to make sure you won.”

“…but I didn’t ask you to do that!”

You felt…cornered, somehow, because on the one hand, yes. You did owe so much to the man before you, but at the same time, what did you owe specifically? Your attention? Your affection? Whatever he deemed an appropriate compensation? When you saved his life in the arena that day, and he vowed to save yours in return, you didn’t understand the full ramifications of the deal you were agreeing to.

“I saved your life, and you saved mine, and I’m sorry for the things you felt the need to risk, but that’s where it ends.”

The cold from the rain didn’t faze you nearly as much as the heat from his gaze boring into your back.

You wanted to believe that your lack of confrontation was what led you to the predicament you found yourself in. After all, things between you two had held too many ‘what ifs’ and lingering feelings and questions. You liked to hope that telling the man in no uncertain terms that your relationship should never and would never progress beyond anything professional would fix things.

You never would’ve guessed that your bout of confidence would only prove to make things worse.

“My ma doesn’t even know any rebels, and you know that.”

You’d whispered the words so quietly, throat too choked up to speak any louder as you tearfully stared Coriolanus down, your words only intended for the two of you. Your back was pressed to the doorway as he stood before you, a foot or two of space between you as other Peacekeepers did their duty to search your house as thoroughly as possible. The reason you’d been given was suspicion of treason—to the shock of your ma—but both you and the handsome man before you knew the truth.

“One can never be too sure. It’s always those you least expect.”

His cool response only made you look away, a few tears escaping.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You won, you were free, so why did it still feel like you were in the game…except a much more dangerous one this time? You could feel his eyes on you as you watched man after man rifle through you and your ma’s things, your younger sister not home to witness this. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him take a step towards you—just one, but one was enough to make you flinch.

You still didn’t give him the satisfaction of looking at him though.

“Unbearable,” he quietly said. “…not able to be endured…or tolerated.”

You swallowed.

“Not to be confused with hard—requiring a great deal of endurance or effort.”

Another step towards you.

“To find something unbearable means that you quite literally cannot stomach it any longer. It forces a change to come, forces something to…give,” he whispered.

Your gaze was still focused ahead, but his words made you blink, made your heart sink, and you swore that he knew that.

“I can make things incredibly unbearable for you…and your family.”

You straightened at that, finally looking at him with a venomous gaze and a heaving chest. Coriolanus reached up to pick at your shirt, removing a piece of grass from it, and you watched him inspect it before turning his blue eyes back onto you. They lingered on your own eyes before lowering to your lips, his own twitching so subtly you might’ve missed it if you were anyone else.

“Or I can make sure you’ll be taken care of, looked after as if you were my own…” his gaze met yours again. “It’s entirely your choice.”

You two stared at one another for an infuriating amount of time before he let out a sharp whistle, telling the other men that nothing seemed to be here and to move on. His wording was not lost on you, and you crossed your arms over your chest. Coriolanus was the last to walk out, and despite the feel of his heavy gaze, you didn’t look his way the entire time.

Your ma commented on the strangeness of the whole ordeal, but nothing about it was strange to you. It was all very calculating and sinister actually, and while you grew up hearing countless talk of running away and living off the grid, you were never more tempted than in this moment…but you were not alone. Your ma was sickly, and your sister was too young.

…and if you left, you could only guess what you’d be leaving your family susceptible to.

Your future seemed inevitable no matter how much you tried to find a way out of the path set for you.

The first night you slept with Coriolanus Snow, it was storming just like that day you’d attempted to give him back his flower. You’d cried for a good three hours before, feeling helpless in the aftermath of another so-called inspection from Peacekeepers—this one much more destructive. The only light that night came from the brief flashes of lightning, and the sound of the rain drowned out the reluctant gasps to leave your lips.

Hands much softer than you ever expected trailed down your frame, curving over your hips and dipping underneath your thighs. The blond man’s lips rarely left your skin, kissing whatever part of you that came to mind, nose gently grazing you as he did and pulling shudders from your frame. It was a foreign feeling to be so heated and afraid at the same time.

Under the cover of darkness, his fingers intertwined with your own and his hips were flush with yours. The feel of him inside of you was much more jarring than you thought it would be, choked deep breaths leaving your parted lips as he pressed his face into the crook of your neck. His thrusts were slow, the complete opposite of what you expected, and you didn’t know if you liked that better or worse.

Every kiss felt wrong, like you were betraying yourself, but in the same manner, they also reminded you of that first day you met. You thought about when you stepped off of that train, and that smooth voice escaped those pink lips, and your stomach flipped no matter how much you pretended it didn’t. The person you were that day wanted to throw your head back and welcome the little nips he left along your skin.

The person you were, now, wanted to crawl inside of your skin.

This man had stalked you to the highest degree, following you all the way from The Capitol just to collect on the young woman whose survival he ensured. The things he’d risked and ultimately lost, he placed the weight of on your shoulders as if you were responsible to compensate for that somehow. As if it was your duty to make his sacrifices worth it.

When he pulled you into his lap, resting on him with arms circled around your waist, it was your turn to press your face into the area where his neck and shoulder met. His fingers dancing along your skin made you shudder, and that just made the tears collect more because you didn’t want to enjoy this, but your body and your brain didn’t seem to be in alignment.

When you were forced to come around him, you saw stars, and you were positive your nails left marks on his back.

You didn’t really think that no more trouble from Peacekeepers was worth the figurative collar around your neck. The abundance of food and supplies might have been, if only to just see the smiles on your ma and sister’s faces, but even then, when you found your back pressed to Coriolanus’ chest as he drove his cock up into you, you wondered if it was actually worth it.

Your ma would say no, that you knew for sure, but you supposed it wasn’t her call to make.

After all, the alternative was psychological torment and worst-case scenarios you didn’t even want to entertain.

“Would you have had her arrested?” you quietly wondered one night.

The sheet was clutched to your chest, and you were facing the wall, still unable to look him in the eye directly afterwards. You’d never been able to, feeling used and low and indefensible. You tried not to dwell on the feel of his fingertips tracing patterns into your shoulder, his cool breath hitting your skin as he exhaled.

“I mean…would you have…framed her somehow? Found some justification for it?”

You didn’t know why you were asking, certain you wouldn’t like the answer, and as you predicted, you felt your throat tighten the longer the silence stretched. Against your will—like many things you’d been doing as of late—a few tears escaped, and even before he answered, you knew what you were going to hear.

“Yes,” he confessed, just as quietly.

You squeezed your eyes shut, subtly wiping your face.

“I sacrificed so much for you to win, and not just because your win was my win…but because I wanted to see you win,” he murmured, placing a kiss to your back. “…because I wanted you.”

You knew that, but having it confirmed so plainly was disturbing.

“…and when I eventually make my way back to The Capitol, as we both know I will, I’ll still want you.”

Your stomach sank at that, and for the first time, you turned to look at him while still trembling in the aftermath of what had quickly become a nightly occurrence. His gaze was still focused on where your back had been, and when his eyes flitted up to connect with yours, you didn’t have the words to convey how you felt about what he was insinuating.

“In The Capitol, you’ll have access to things you could never even imagine…and you could send those same things back to your family,” he told you, reaching up to touch your face.

When you moved to sit up, he stopped you, a firm grip on your arm. Coryo—as he liked for you to call him—fixed you with a look that you knew all too well. It was the look he gave you when you tried to come up with any excuse as to why you couldn’t meet with him. It was the look you received when you briefly forgot the power dynamics here, turning away from him and attempting to push him away.

It was a look that told you not to fight the inevitable.

“I want you there with me.”

His tone left no room for argument, and there was so much conviction in his voice that the thought of arguing seemed legitimately draining. You simply stared at him, eyes glassy, and he stared back, waiting for verbal confirmation of what you both knew was going to happen, anyway. You had no choice in the matter, you never did, and for a brief horrifying moment, you almost wished you were a lone orphan who didn’t have to look out for anybody but yourself.

That thought did make tears spill over.

It was a horrible thing to think, but your loved ones were being used against you, and you knew that your ma—and your sister if she were old enough to comprehend these things—would never want this for you. Coryo sat up with you, a hand resting on your cheek as he gazed at you, a thumb brushing the tears away. It wasn’t meant to be comforting.

Nothing he did was ever meant to be comforting.

“I want you there with me,” he repeated.

You wondered what someone like you would possibly do in The Capitol.

“I don’t belong there,” you whispered, a poor attempt to get him to change his mind.

His response was swift and clipped.

“You belong with me.”

When he pressed his lips to yours, it was expected that you would kiss him back. His thumb brushed along your skin as you did, a low hum sounding in the back of his throat that quickly escalated into a groan. His free arm snaked around you, and your last attempt at resisting proved futile, so you let him lay you down.

Sex with Coriolanus was a maddening experience.

You didn’t want it, and your brain didn’t want it, but it was as if your body was its own separate entity running on hormones and animal instinct.

When he rested his full weight on top of you, you shuddered for a multitude of reasons—one of which you didn’t want to acknowledge. When he slid his hand between your breasts and down to your stomach, your back arched, chest pressing up and into his. When he pushed into you all torturously slow as he always did, you involuntarily held your breath, shaking at the feel of his hips connecting with yours, the length of him fully sheathed in your warmth.

You were terrified of him, so that was why you opened up for him like those budding roses he used to carry around, but in doing so, you made yourself vulnerable beneath him. You made yourself more susceptible to his kisses and his touch and that maddening voice that knew just how to get its way. He wasn’t a very talkative man when he was inside of you, much more content with letting his actions speak for themselves, but tonight was different.

“Look at me,” he whispered, curving his hips into yours. “Look right at me.”

You did, and while you didn’t know the specifics of the psychology behind this, you knew that looking into the eyes of your tormentor while in the act couldn’t be good.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he breathlessly told you, nose brushing against yours with every thrust.

You could hear that it was starting to rain again, and you pressed your hands into the small of his back, trying to ground yourself in some way—trying to have control over something, anything. Tears kissed your eyes, and you swore—you swore—that something in those blues of his twinkled. It sparked something in his gaze, and in his psyche, his thrusts becoming more powerful and making you gasp, nails pressing into his skin.

He only looked especially satisfied when the tears spilled over.

When he came inside of you, and you around him, you swore you saw stars.

You even thought you saw snow.

Me finding young snow attractive but remembering he killed finnick