F0rlorn - Tumblr Blog

Holy hell, am i the only one who is always attracted to side characters and villains? like have you seen Luke Castellan and Clarisse? and on the other hand i love Treech and Lamina. AND IT HURTS SO MUCH WHEN THERES NO FANFICS ABT THE SIDE CHARACTERS I LIKE. LIKE I WOULD GO THROUGH ALL OF THEM IN ONE ALL NIGHTER.

edit - HELP I JUST SEEN YOUNG HAYMITCH AND I WAS TRYNNA LOOK FOR FAN FICS AND THERES LIKE ONLY A FEW GOOD ONES 😭 ( and i’m sick like i’m coughing really bad, so updates will be slow sorry 😢 )

district four → fishing

“do you like seafood? shrimp and crabmeat? often overlooked, district four plays an essential role, bringing us the bounty of the sea. these citizens are adept with nets and tridents, and can swim like fish themselves.”

lol remember the mischa bachinski x reader fic on my wattpad that i havent updated in like a year????

yea what if i started writing again 🤗

okie okie could I req something for Lamina x mentor reader (Kinda slow burn but your choice)? Where reader is anti-district like Arachne, bad mouths the districts, ends up getting assigned to Lamina (she's like can't believe I'm stuck with the girl who always cries). But after visiting the Zoo and interacting with Lamina over the few days (like interviews and tour of the arena etc) They warm up to each other and R defo get's attached. Interacting with Lamina changing her view of the districts! Also a little bit of R comforting Lamina when she cries (probs during the interview with the mentors)! Thank you sm, and feel free to make any changes! Take your time love <33 - N

power trip - lamina

requested? - yes

a/n - very unedited, there are a lot of typos in here, i may have messed up the timeline slightly because it's been a minute, you've been warned. I loved writing mean capitol reader, and yes, I did include the tribute sandwich cliché, but it makes the story entertaining. Bite me lol. Lastly, I definitely went a little overboard so I had to do some hcs thrown in with the fic so it would get done sometime this century. I hope you're okay with that <3

ship - (probably ooc) Lamina x Capitol! Fem! Reader , Arachne Crane x Capitol! Fem! Reader if you squint

cw - swear words, violence, mean reader at the beginning, classism? arachne's death is mentioned but not explicitly, angst, everyone's bad at feelings

You would argue there was absolutely no honor in dealing with the crying District Seven girl, but you (graciously, you might add), held your tongue. Maybe you were wrong about her, but really, when were you ever wrong?

                                                 ⊹ ⋆🎀 ⋆⊹

As a part of the Captiol Academy, you'd had the "honor" of being selected to mentor a tribute and knew it would be rude to refuse

besides, there wasn't any harm in recognition

you would argue there was absolutely zero honor in dealing with districts

you (graciously you might add), held your tongue though

You shared a look with Arachne, both knowing damn well why you were doing this. You wanted that recognition, and of course, the Plinth Prize couldn't hurt. Surely there wasn't anything wrong with a little friendly competition though. You'd already agreed to buy matching dresses for practically every event ou'd be invited to after this was all over, both coming from affluent and well liked families, even if you didn't win, you'd get respect. However, in all honesty, you knew yourself and you knew her. It was going to be one of you winning this thing.

For the first time in your life, you waited eagerly for Dean Highbottom's announcement. The sooner you could deal with whatever grimy tribute they assigned, the better. You had a social life to attend to, after all.

Sure enough, there she was. Your tribute, the one that was supposed to bring you glory, looking at the camera, crying. You sighed. Great, you got the crybaby. Just your luck. Maybe she would pull herself together when you met. Hopefully. Arachne always said you were too much of an optimist.

you'd found out where your tribute was being held and thought it was worth a shot visiting her

you could use the media attension and you'd have to visit her sometime to make sure she had a shot at winning anyway

so you decided to bite the bullet, put on your red uniform and favorite perfume and go see what that girl's deal was

Realizing all too late as you picked your way to the enclosure, you'd gotten dressed up, even tried to make that horrible uniform look good for nothing. Your tribute sat a ways away from the bars, slumped over, practically blending in with the enclosure. Noticing your presence, you saw her glassy eyes flick up from the ground, scanning your face, jewelry, uniform, and finally, your shoes. Feeling very strange, almost judged, you fixed your shirt, reminding yourself that girl probably wouldn't recognize a designer shoe if you threw it at her.

"District Seven, yes?" You attempted a halfhearted wave.

She nodded. What was her name again? You’d tried to remember it, but couldn’t really bring yourself to care much. It was something odd, Lily? Laminate? Laboratory? Leather? Leslie? Regardless, you were suddenly face-to-face with only bars separating you.

"I'm Lamina" Her voice was slightly thick from crying but low and softer than you'd expected.

"Oh. Lovely" Forcing yourself not to take a step back, you suddenly became very aware of the smell of unwashed bodies and the general odor that came with a monkey enclosure.

I'll be your mentor" Holding a hand out cautiously, you wondered for a second if she didn't understand what you meant to do, if perhaps she might try and bite it. Fortunatlely, she took it and you did your best not to flinch at the sight of her rather grimy nails.

This was so not worth it.

later Arachne, who had been almost impressed by your altruism, regretted asking you how your little trip went

it was like you were in love the way you were that obsessed with your District Seven girl and how much of a "total lost cause" she was.

she quite honestly wished you'd just shut up and ignore the damn tribute. That's what everyone else was doing!

You just weren't that smart! She always knew she was the brains in the friendship

She did enjoy hearing about Coriolanus' mentoring though (especially when it came to him failing at said mentoring)

Arachne almost felt bad for that little District Twelve girl who according to you, was very clearly the man's next fling

In her opinion, Coriolanus had never hesitated to come on to anything with legs. not long ago, you.’d been one of his victims. He'd been so desperately trying to get you as a date to one of his parties only a few months before, and you were so much better than that. He was just tragic

Surprisingly, Arachne had decided to go visit her tribute before you that day, and news of what happened had reached you soon after. You'd tried to tell her the idea wasn't good, but she just hadn't listened. She never did. That was the end of your friendship with Arachne Crane. Maybe one of your closest friends had been killed after doing something very very dumb, but you needed a good public image and you weren't going to let her ruin it.

You had decided to come back to the enclosure, this time with a meal and a half-assed attempt at a mentorship plan, half hoping Lamina wouldn't be there. She was though, looking through the bars, crinkled clothes, dirty nails, a tear-stained face and very clearly scared as always. Maintaining your distance, you pushed a bag of food through the bars with a bored look. Grime did not come out of your gloves easily. You’d learned that the hard way. You weren’t stupid though. She had to eat.

You weren't sure what district people ate, so you'd settled on a bowl of fruit, a bottle of sparkling water, and a sandwich. You couldn't have your tribute fainting in front of the entire Capitol, you'd be a disgrace. You’d never cooked much, but you’d tried. On second thought, maybe Caviar, Pistachio, Cucumber and Pepper Jelly hadn’t been the combination you’d thought it would be though. feeling oddly self conscious at the girl looking at the food suspiciously, you gave her a hard look,

“I didn’t poison it, you know”

Lamina didn't seem convinced, but she took a bite, still eyeing you as if you might pounce.

"It's probably time to start getting ready for the games, but that's where I come in." You figured that was a good place to start. "Basically, I'll be making sure the other tributes don’t try to kill you first.” You paused noticing the horrified look on her face. "Oh, right! And, don’t worry. I’ll also help fix this. I’ll make you- passable in no time. You’ve definitely got potential.” Gesturing towards her clothes, you earned a small scoff. That was the most attitude you’d seen, but maybe you did have a shot at her winning. That was something.

normally, Lamina tried to see the best in people, but she was having a very hard time with you

you were pretty, she wouldn't deny that, but your personality just didn't match. you were just another prissy spoiled capitol brat who only wanted to help her in order to look good

you were confusing though, you had (clearly) cooked food for her and put in effort where few other mentors did, the thing was, she was pretty sure you weren't aware of it

you continued to confuse her as you returned daily, sometimes twice to "coach" her through getting sponsors, creating a solid story for her interview, and survival tactics.

you were confused too

Some people from the Capitol Academy were concerned, they had a right to be, they knew how close you'd been with Arachne, but in all honestly, you didn't want to talk about her. You had other things on your mind.

”I have to wear one of those ugly ass uniforms and deal with that until this shit show is over” you said, pointing an accusatory painted nail at the picture of your tribute you'd set on your desk, so you didn't forget. Obviously

"Still a total baby?" The girl was concerned, clearly. You'd only talked a few times, but she was nice enough and you needed someone, anyone, right now.

you paused “Yeah, she just can't stop crying. It's unnerving"

Shaking her head, the girl brushed a glitter varnish over one of your nails. "You’ll figure something out”

You hoped so.

"Arachne's idea was stupid. I tried to tell her so, but she thought she knew best. She always did. Any ideas I had were irrelevant, even if she mentioned them first, it didn't matter. The second I said something out loud, it was a complete joke. It's no wonder her tribute killed her. I would've done the same if I was in her place."

You were shocked at how bitter you sounded. A wave of guilt washed over you. Bad mouthing your now deceased best friend was so gauche. You ignored the guilt though. It wasn’t like she would’ve had any issue doing the same if she was in your place. You really wished she was there though. Having someone like her to complain to about your assigned charity case with would be nice.

Later that night, even after changing into a silk robe, and removing your makeup, you found yourself still thinking about your tribute. You hoped she was alright wherever she was. Was she thinking about you? That was an odd thought. Since when did you actually care about your tribute? You figured you needed some rest. you always thought odd things before bed.

Through the next few days, you visited Lamina. you weren't sure why

It wouldn’t have been hard to just say fuck it and forget about her, Plinth Prize be damned. Your family could've probably started their own namesake prize if they truly wanted to.

Still, you found yourself walking back to that same monkey enclosure, more food (that you’d bought this time, thankfully) a selection of drinks, a blanket, and a box of small desserts in hand

Walking over to where you waited against the bars, she looked at you warily. "What’s that?"

you pushed the box through the bars as gently as possible.

“Dessert”

She tilted her head to the side, confused “Why?”

“They’re for you. I saw what happened with Trech. If you need to get anyone to like you, there’s enough to go around."

"Alright-"

"What? Bribery is a tactic! They have fighting skills, but you have desserts. That's definitely something!"

Lamina didn't seem convinced, but she did look slightly amused. It was better than nothing.

after the food, it was slightly easier to get through to her with your mentorship plan

for someone with that much experience in faking smiles, you had no idea how you were failing so horribly in teaching her.

even after practicing for at least an hour, the only thing that you succeeded in was producing cringes and wobbly frowns

you watched as her tragic attempt crumbled. tears were running down her face again. you wanted to be irritated, she just couldn’t get it together for a few minutes! you couldn’t manage it though.

something just felt off- similar to how you'd felt after saying those things about Arachne. your face was growing hot, you suddenly wanted very badly to crawl into a cave and stay there until this was all over.

you weren’t sure why, but you felt yourself reaching through the bars and awkwardly patting the girl on the arm

"Is something um- wrong?"

you were quickly finding that you were awful at comforting people

She sniffled, looking at you “Everything's wrong”

Lamina hadn't known this at first, but she was quickly catching on: you were very stupid. She really would have to spell it out

What was wrong? Well, she'd been forced to fight other children for the entertainment of The Capitol, people like you, who couldn't care less if she lived or died, not really. just as long as they got a good show and had the opportunity to feel good about themselves after sending a bandage to a child dying of infection.

Next, even if she did win, she'd still be known as the child who killed everyone and being celebrated for it even if the guilt was eating her alive.

Finally, Lamina knew she wouldn’t make it, she knew she didn’t want to kill, and she knew she wouldn’t see her family ever again, even though she promised they'd see her again and she hated breaking promises.

that was what was wrong, you idiot (she kindly left the last part out)

"Oh- Oh no" You were shaking your head now, blinking furiously.

You lifted your hand slightly, unsure if you were doing the correct thing, but she quickly placed a hand on yours. Looking at you now, she wondered if she'd spent too long crying and the tears had somehow glazed her eyes over but no. She was studying your face, the face of the person who was supposed to be teaching her how to achieve a perfect smile, and you were crying. Crying. She couldn't help but feel a bit of satisfaction.

You noticed her staring and turned away sharply.

“Look what you did! There's water on my face” you huffed, frantically dabbing at your eyes so your mascara wouldn’t run with your free hand. You didn't move away though.

You continued your little lesson after dabbing at your eyes a bit more, and didn't mention what had happened for the rest of the day

the next morning she woke up to your very annoyed voice arguing with a Peacekeeper, getting louder until you yelled a very exasperated "Thank you! Was that so hard?"

"Visiting hours barely started, why are you here so early?"

"Well excuse me if I want to help you out a little, I brought breakfast!"

Lamina still seemed confused

“Why are you being so kind? ”

“I- don’t know! I think I made a mistake" You weren't sure what had been going on, but you felt like being here was the right choice. Rather, you had. Right now you were really wishing she would stop asking questions and just take the pastries and coffee you'd brought

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, okay? You’re making me feel some odd things and I don’t understand any of them, so please don’t ask-“

“Did you really say please?”

“Yes!" You looked at her, smiling slightly now, and wished for a moment that she'd go back to crying. Anything would be better than that strange little (oddly endearing) smile of hers. "Now please shut up! I’ll be back later!"

"You’re not so bad, you know."

Turning to leave, you shook your head. She was just now realizing it? Sad.

"Of course I'm not! I'm perfect?"

She gave you a look

"I know you don't want me to take that back."

"You. Wouldn’t. Dare.”

"Really?”

You gasped, almost laughing now.

"You're mean, Lamina!"

Hearing you say her name like that made her feel very strange

Something wouldn't let you stop thinking about that little interaction, even through the arena tours, even up until the interviews.

It had been the closest thing you'd had to an actual connection with someone since Arachne had gone off and done- that, but still, this felt better somehow. The connection felt better with your tribute. You shuddered, what was happening?

All you knew was you cared about getting her through the games in one piece now, for better or for worse.

At your interview, you'd dressed well, deciding to finally ditch the Capitol Uniform for a large lacy purple dress and exaggerated gold eye makeup, lamina still in her clothes from before

It had gone well enough, however she had broke down crying once more. You couldn't even bring yourself to feel any irritation anymore, only wishing you could wrap her in a tight hug and tell her how sorry you were about everything. you didn't though

Instead, you'd done your best to use her tears to make any spectators feel connected to her, and had done a damn good job if you said so yourself, people loved her and you honestly didn't blame them

towards the end, she slipped her hand in yours. Your first instinct was to pull back, hissing “Don’t touch me!” but something made you stay still, giving her hand a small squeeze

Unfortunately, after the interview, she was still very clearly in distress

“Are you alright?”

She shook her head, shaking.

“Come” You lead her to a corner and sat down on a plush couch, pulling her into a hug. “It’s going to be okay”

“It’s not”

You cringed realizing she had a point

“Please try to be okay. Your family won't want to loose you. Honestly, I don't want to loose you either.” You cringed as she only shook more in your arms, deciding the best course of action was to just keep hugging her until she decided to move. Minutes passed and her breathing became calmer as she got up, cringing at the tear stains she'd left on your dress, looking at you now, almost like she was studying you.

“Thank you.”

”You really don’t need to thank me. I've been horrible to you and I would completely understand if you wanted nothing to do with me after this”

“I want to though. You’re kinder than you think you are.”

"What?"

“When I met you, I thought you were horrible. Pretty, but horrible. You don't notice it, but you’re not. You care about people so much even if you try not to. God, you brought me desserts just so I could build trust between the other tributes, even though I know you thought I wasn’t worth the time. What's most important is that you realized you were in the wrong and you're trying to understand why.

You sat in silence for a while, Lamina knew you were confused, you'd only recently realized the district people were worthy of respect and were taking on a lot of information at once regarding that general subject.

what she hadn't expected was being hugged and hearing the words "I don't want to loose you" or even "Thank you" from the same girl who'd been afraid to touch her a week ago.

You spoke, almost sounding choked up,

"You're going to be okay. When you win, you'll see."

"If" she corrected

"Don't even think about it. You will get through this."

You nearly froze as you felt her head fall back on your shoulder again .You settled into the couch, scared to move in case it disturbed her. She seemed calmer this time though, at least you hoped so.

"I don't really want to loose you either"

*Bonus hcs because I've lost my mind. You're welcome.*

if she wins (she does because I said so) and gets out of the arena, the first thing she notices is someone running towards her at full speed in a floor length blue gown and very jingly jewelry. You’re there practically smashing into a wall, hugging her like you’re afraid of letting go.

The first words out of your mouth were "I told you so" and she had half a mind to throw her first ever punch, but then, your face melted into a huge smile and you were whispering how proud you were. You'd been wrong, everything was not alright, she'd killed more people than she'd ever wanted to and was undoubtedly going to be working through guilt for years after, but everything was better.

next thing she knew, she was asking if she could kiss you, you nodded, and her lips were on yours

you buy her gifts constantly. She doesn’t care about material things as much as you, but knows it’s one of the ways you show love, besides you have a way of finding fun trinkets, accessories, and hair products she ends up loving.

Visiting her district and meeting her family was something you'd been nervous about, but wanted to do. they did threaten you with an axe before they knew who you were, but after your talks with Lamina, you understood why.

getting a splinter your first day in District Seven, convincing yourself you’re dying, and giving a very dramatic speech, practically eulogizing yourself while she just watches before finding some tweezers and pulling it out. You nearly fainted.

You're one of the only people she makes fun of (kindly of course) She can't help it. There's just so much for her to work with.

Everyone is always arguing about which cabin they’d want to be in at Camp Half Blood and it’s always Poseidon or Athena or Ares. Me I want to be in Hypnos’ cabin those guys are sleeping soundly and uninterrupted

A dream life

:)

why i keep twitter

clarisse la rue edit to break stuff by limp bizkit pls i beg

district three → technology

“panem is one of the most advanced nations in mankind's history, thanks to the efforts of district three. its computers keep us all connected and its electronic gadgets keep us all entertained.”

(a day late, sorry)

a place with you; luke castellan

wc: 2.8k (got a little carried away whoops)

pairing: luke castellan x f! reader

synopsis: luke is used to people coming in and out of hermes’ cabin without a second thought. so when you’re having a hard time adjusting to camp life, he doesn’t expect you to stick by his side, even after you’re claimed.

warnings/notes: shy reader going through a tough time, hurt/comfort, pining, kisses, fluff, potential ooc luke i don’t know what i’m doing, most of this is prob inaccurate lol, i got wayyy too attatched to this i am sorry, title inspired by dragon eyes by adrianne lenker

Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s used to delivering, passing things along, letting them enter his life and leave him. Sometimes it makes him angry. At his father, at the world, at himself.

So when you passed through the Hermes cabin for the inevitable few weeks before getting claimed by your Godly parent, the last thing Luke expected was for you to stay.

When you first got to camp you were terrified. Luke remembers that much. He can still picture you in Chiron’s towering shadow as he led you up to Hermes cabin. He gave you the usual spiel about the cabin, the land of the unclaimed, but it clearly hadn’t quelled your nerves. You were wringing your fingers together when Luke first spotted you, your eyes blown wide in what he knew as shock and a sort of . . . grief. For a life you’d left for what Luke knows as a life you’d never really have. He’d seen it in so many campers before you. He’d see it many times after.

“This is Luke, Hermes’ head counsellor and one of Camp Half-Blood’s finest,” Chiron pointed him out to you at the entrance. After Chiron introduced you, Luke held your name in his memory. Not because there was anything particularly intriguing about you at first, to be honest, because he’d seen a lot of people like you that needed help settling in (although maybe not many his age). It was harder for some people to adjust than most. He knew that better than anyone.

“Nice to meet you,” he stuck out his hand for you to shake after Chiron left. “I’m Luke.”

You sniffed, shaking it without looking at him. You were so, so embarrassed. This whole time you’d been too stupidly overwhelmed to process anything. Why was this so hard for you? Was it this hard for everyone? “Hi,” you managed, and that was it.

Now, weeks after your first meeting, you’ve concluded that it was not, in fact, this hard for everyone. The camp is crowded but full of life. You’ve never seen more happy kids in your life. There’s a sense of community on the wind.

So why can’t you feel it? Why is it so hard to connect with people? To participate in the fun? Everywhere you look there’s people but it’s all just so . . . lonely. You don’t fit. You’re lost.

Luke wakes up at night when the cabin door creaks open. He’s already tossing, so it’s no surprise he catches it. Unfortunately, he’s supposed to be a good counsellor—sneaking out at night is against the rules, and you’ve gotta reign the strays back in before they cause a ruckus. Sure, Luke’s not exactly a stickler for the law, but the least he owes is to make sure everyone’s safe.

Groaning, he draws himself out of the comfort of his bunk but doesn’t get far when he spots a familiar silhouette slipping out the door. He knows it’s you. He’s been hearing crying at night, and this is confirming his suspicions. It makes him ache in a million different places. Every time he thought about approaching you he shut himself down almost instantly, because who the hell wants some random guy coming up to them in the middle of the night and drawing attention?

This time, though, he’s a little worried.

It’s chilly tonight but not too bad, especially when you’re huddled up in a ball on a hill in front of the lake, grass tickling your ankles. Your tears keep you warm.

It’s a sorrow that feels bottomless. You don’t know what’s gotten into you. You don’t know why everything’s so hard.

There’s a scuffling of shoes, and your name is carried to you on the heels of a breeze. Oh God. There’s someone else here.

You sniff and smear your tears on the palms of your hands the best you can but a little part of you only wants to cry more now that you’re all anxious, and you only have a few seconds to collect yourself before you turn around and see Luke, your cabin leader, with furrowed brows. “Oh, h-hi, Luke.” It’s hard to ignore the splinter in your voice. You curse yourself a thousand times.

“Hey,” he says hesitantly, eyeing you in a way that makes you feel entirely exposed. “You, uh, you know you’re not technically supposed to be out here, right?”

You start to scramble to your feet with an apology on your tongue but surprisingly he laughs, a gentle sound, and beckons you to sit back down. “No, no, I’m not gonna get you in trouble or anything, just . . . letting you know.”

It’s uncertain if you should keep sitting, but you decide to because well, you’re already down here, and things can’t go lower than this. Luke comes to sit next to you and you stare out into the sea like your life depends on it. “Wanna talk about why you’re out here?”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“I mean,” Luke sighs, scooting a little closer to you. “Most people don’t up and leave in the middle of the night because they’re having a great time.”

The answer is too hard to say so you don’t reply.

Again, Luke sighs, and you try not to look at the shadow the moon casts on his admittedly handsome face. “It’s hard settling in, I know. It happens to a lot of people. I’ve . . . I’ve seen a lot of them, and it doesn’t get any easier.”

“Well it sure seems easier,” you snap, and your self-control flies away before you can stop it. “I have no idea why I can’t just suck it up and fit in here. Everyone seems so happy and it’s driving me nuts because I’m just so confused on why I can’t—why I can’t—process any of it.” Tears burn your eyes. “I’m just miserable. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

In the corner of your view, Luke’s face falls. “I’m your guide, you know that, right? I can help you.”

You sniff, embarrassingly pathetic. “I know.”

He comes even closer. “So why didn’t you ask?”

“Because I—I don’t know, you’re busy all the time with all the people in there, so I’m sure your job’s already stressful as is, so—”

“My job is to help you,” he says, a hand on your shoulder. “That’s what I signed up for. If you need something, I’m the one to ask.”

“I’m not sure you signed up for me crying like a baby,” you swallow, the ripples of the lake blurring together. “I mean, I’m like, older than half the kids here, and they’re all so much better than me. I’m not good at a—anything, and I’ve tried it all, and nobody’s claimed me yet, and I feel so weird and old and alone and . . .” It’s too much to think about so you dig the heels of your palms into your eyes, hoping the sting wards off the thoughts. “What if I’m nothing? Why am I here?”

You’re crying again, hiccuping into your hands. Shame sears into you. Luke’s arm curls around your shoulders and you realize how cold you are when he’s warm, so warm, and you want to cry even harder. You don’t even know him, but it’s the most tenderness you’ve received in what feels like years. “Hey, deep breaths,” he murmurs, rubbing your arm with his other hand. “It’s okay. Look at me.”

It takes a ridiculous amount of strength to heed him. His hand catches your cheek and you can’t bear to pull away. Something strange rustles in your stomach.

Luke’s taught instinct when faced with situations like these is to reassure that the Gods always have a plan. But he doesn’t feel like much of a liar tonight. Both his hands steady your face towards his, your skin damp and cold beneath his thumb. “It's not your fault. It always takes a little bit of time for people to get claimed, it’s never . . . well, you can never tell.”

“What if I don’t get claimed?” You say it so quiet you can pretend it was imaginary.

His eyes crinkle at the sides when he says, “Well, Hermes’ll always have a place for you.”

I’ll, Luke wants to say, I’ll. His father is not responsible for his cabin’s kindness.

“No one really prepares you for how overwhelming this is,” he continues, thumb rubbing the apple of your cheek. Your vision is clearer now, and Gods, he is handsome, isn’t he? Even when his eyes are forlorn. “It’s harder in a way when you’re older. More to leave behind. Less to look forward to. It’s easier when you have a friend. Or a great cabin head.” He tilts his head with a faint smile, “Lucky for you, I’m both.”

It almost makes you laugh, and that’s enough. “It’ll get easier,” he promises softly. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Your cheeks burn. It’s hard to keep his gaze, so you blot at your eyes with your hands as Luke gently slides his off your face. “Thank you. Sorry for, um, all that. And the crying.”

He chuckles, “Don’t even worry about it.” You watch him rise in the throes of starlight. He offers you a hand. “Aren’t you cold?” He asks after pulling you up, and you sheepishly nod your head. He tosses you a sweater he’s been wearing, and it smells like firewood. Nostalgic, in a way. “I’m gonna poke around for some tea. Wait for me back at the cabin.”

Before he leaves, he squeezes your arm and that thing happens again in your stomach. “No need to be embarrassed, by the way. You can come to me anytime. I’m probably less busy than I look.” As he walked away, he added, “And don’t worry about the crying. You’re pretty either way.”

Either way. The tea doesn’t seem important anymore because your face is on fire.

Time reveals that Luke is right. He is a great cabin leader and a friend, and it’s hard to tell which he’s better at. You fall in with him right away. Soon enough, you’re drawn into your new life, so slowly you barely realize it’s happening. The days get shorter and you start wishing they were longer. The nights get easier. And when they’re not, Luke tucks you into his bunk and folds you in his arms until you drift off. You pick up a bow. A sword. Luke tells you to straighten your shoulders with a hand on the small of your back, and you swear it always lingers. You braid garlands of carnations for your cabin mates and they wear them with pride. It’s warm, your cheeks hurt from smiling, and things start to feel like home.

Until you’re claimed.

Now you’re a ghost in Hermes cabin, another empty bunk to be filled, and Luke stares at it until he can remember every last detail of what it looked like when it was yours. A beautiful, gentle daughter of Demeter, no longer in arms’ reach. He should’ve seen it coming.

He sees you with your siblings all the time. You’re so happy and he envies it. You belong there, he knows that, the way your face lights up at the dinner table and how you giggle when your half-sister presents you a flower. But sometimes your eyes wander, and something inside them dulls, until you look at him, too.

Luke’s place at camp is to be nothing but a funnel for lost campers to find their home. He’s a temporary stop in everybody’s journey. He’d made peace with it a long time ago. But here you are, messing it all up, because you still don’t leave him.

You beg him to give you another sword-fighting lesson. You sit next to him at bonfires. You pick him for partner camp activities. It doesn’t matter how many younger boys want to latch onto him for guidance—he sees you heading towards him, and he can’t imagine choosing anyone else.

But you’re always whisked away by your siblings, separated at meals and in sleep and in activities so it’s never, ever enough. Why did he delude himself into thinking you’d stay forever?

After weeks of distance from you, he’s elated when you have even a fraction of a conversation. “Hey, Luke!” You call out to him, and he finds you instantly. You’ve broken away from your siblings to get to him.

“Hey,” he smiles, and hopes he doesn’t look too pleased.

You lean a little towards his ear, and you smell like every wonderful thing in the world. “Can we hang out tonight? On the hill?” You’re a little bashful when you say it and it’s entirely endearing. Even now, you’re still so unsure. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” he says almost instantly, and it makes you look less nervous. “Yes. Absolutely. But don’t get caught breaking curfew now, you hooligan.”

Someone calls your name and you give a curt, playful nod. “Yes sir, camp counsellor sir!” He carries your laugh close to his heart until night falls.

You’re already there when he arrives, a vision in the moonlight before he even sees your face. “Hey, angel.”

When you turn around you look flustered. He won’t pretend like it doesn’t flatter him. “H—hi, uh, hello.”

There’s a moment where the world is still. The two of you, alone, for the first time in ages.

He sits down next to you, and it’s like the first time all over again. You get to talking, about your days, your anecdotes, your cabins. The strangeness of it all. “It’s so weird waking up in the morning and not having you yapping in my ear,” you remark, and he teasingly pushes your shoulder.

“Well, one of us has to be the talker, and it’s clearly not you,” he retorts.

You fiddle with blades of grass between your fingertips, weaving them together. “I’ll have you know I had a cabin-wide conversation about Capture The Flag yesterday, and I contributed greatly.”

“Oh, really?” He grins, knocking your elbow to steal your attention. “Look at you, coming out of your shell. I’m so proud.”

It’s hard to hold his gaze for more than a second. You’re afraid you’ll do something stupid if he keeps looking at you like that, but you almost want to. “Oh, shut up.”

He puts a hand on your shoulder. “No, I’m serious. I’m proud.” His eyes rake over your face. “You’re flourishing. You found your place.”

You can’t stop yourself from saying, “I kind of miss my old one.”

There’s a way he studies your expression that makes you feel utterly helpless. You wish you could dish it back to him, but you know you just look awestruck whenever you stare at him for so long. He’s quieter when he replies, “I miss it, too. A lot. Sometimes, I—” His face scrunches up like he just tasted something sour. “Nevermind.”

Frowning, you prod, “What? What is it?”

He sighs and turns to the horizon. This is the first time you’ve ever seen him struggle. “Sometimes, I wish you hadn’t been claimed. Sorry, that’s . . . that’s awful, I know.”

His surprise is evident when you say, “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t either.”

He turns back to you. “Really?”

“Really,” you nod, staring at the beads on his necklace. “You’re the only reason I’ve adjusted here at all.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.”

“It’s true. And I miss you.” A few months ago you would’ve kicked yourself for saying this. But Luke has a way of inspiring confidence in people.

“I miss you, too. So much.” He gently prys the grass you’ve been weaving out of your hands, now a small necklace. “But look at how talented you are. I’ll tell you, I’m lucky you’re still sticking around. For most people, Hermes is touch-and-go.”

Luke leans forward to tie the garland around your neck, and your pulse picks up. “This isn’t about Hermes, Luke,” you try to be firm but it comes out soft. “It’s about you.”

His hands stop fiddling and rest on your neck. When he speaks, you can feel his breath on you. And you have no idea that he’s been waiting to hear that his whole life. “What’s about me?”

It’s not fair, your inability to string sentences together only worsens right when a beautiful boy is this close to you. “Hermes isn’t—it’s not special because of your father, it’s special because of you.”

There is nothing else you can possibly think of saying with the way his fingers trace up your neck and hold your jaw. “Yeah, well,” he murmurs, “The only reason anything in my life is special is because of you.”

You don’t know if it’s a lie or not; you don’t care. His nose nudges yours. There’s a moment where you wonder if this is as close to Elysium you’ll ever get. Then he slips a hand to the back of your neck and pulls you to his mouth.

He kisses you in a near fury, then when he knows you’re not going anywhere, it’s the gentlest thing you know. It’s hard to believe this is even happening. Your hands weave through his curls but he holds you steady, and thank the Gods for that because you’re pretty sure you’re melting. You kiss again, and again, and again, until you genuinely think you’re going to pass out and you have to pull away.

“Aw, look at you,” he murmurs when you can’t meet his eyes, a playful lilt in his voice. “Still so nervous.”

“Would you shut up?” You press your face into the crook of his neck with a huge smile.

He kisses the top of your head. “Love to, angel.”

Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s supposed to believe he’s bringing the best of humanity to the Gods and glory above.

But screw the Gods. He’s keeping this one for himself.

Will u be writing more coral x fem reader stuff?

yes, i definitely plan to! life is a little busy right now, which i hope compensates for my lack of writing. expect more of coral soon or in the distant future, we’ll see!

thinking about mags and coral rn 😕

AAAHH LOOK WHAT I GOT!!!

I read TBOSAS over Christmas and I gotta say the film deprived us of some very funny classmate dynamics

delicate → lamina

lamina!tbosas x reader

notes → in which you get to live a soft, domestic life with lamina. cottagecore lesbians trope and not ashamed. feminine intended reader

warnings → short, but her tag is so bare i needed to do something about it. not edited & uploaded via iphone.

     lamina’s thick, red hair combed through your fingers as you parted it into three separate sections, beginning the works of a braid. both of your schedules had finally aligned, allowing you to spend your free time with the girl for the first time in a while. wind blew in from the open window, causing the dainty curtains to flutter, and the cool draft gave you goosebumps. lamina was humming a familiar tune, an old generational lullaby, as your finger got to work, expertly twisting her auburn hair into a simple but classy braid. these days were the ones you cherished the most. serene, intimate, nothing but tranquil as lamina and you simply focused on your eternal love for each other. 

     the two of you were patiently awaiting the baked goods lamina had made to finish cooking in the oven. it was rare that lamina and you ever got to enjoy sweets, as the ingredients were very hard to come by. knowing how much lamina loved to bake, though, you had saved up to buy everything she would need. lamina must have been keeping track of the time, because as soon as you finished with her hair, she sprung up, walking over to the oven. as she pulled the assortment of sweets out, carefully placing them on the countertop, the aroma filled the room. it was mouthwatering, sickeningly sweet, just like lamina. it wasn’t a bad thing, being overly sweet. if anything, it put you into even more of a sugar craze. you couldn’t get enough of her and her baking.

     in total, she had made three short of a dozen shortbread cookies, even though they may have been slightly out of season. you would eat anything she made, though, knowing she did it all with love. while she tended to her sweets, you snuck outside the back door, allowing your bare feet to connect with the grass. there was a patch of daisies out back. small, white flowers that you plucked individually, cradling them in your palm as you slipped back inside. lamina had displayed her cookies on an old, plate of china. the lone dish had been an anniversary gift to her parents. rimmed with gold paint, with small, orange flowers embroidered on it as well. lamina beckoned for you to sit, but you were on a mission, walking up behind her. the girl was confused, but trusted you enough that she wasn’t bothered. you took the daisies, weaving them into her braid as a final touch. you couldn’t help but smile at your handiwork. the white of the flower was a gorgeous juxtaposition against her auburn hair.

     “beautiful,” she grinned at your compliment, cupping your face with her hand. grabbing one of the cookies, lamina held it up for you to try. you didn’t hesitate in taking a bite, groaning in delectation as the flavor overwhelmed your senses. lamina never missed when baking. it was her passion, after all. and she was yours.

Reflecting Light

Once the annual Reaping has passed, and summer rolls out, Winter is the next toughest part of the year—another season of survival. Fortunately, best friend Treech knows exactly how to brighten up the stormy days.

Treech X Lamina | The Hunger Games

IT’S RAINING, just as it was the day she met him. The clouds are so thick you could just reach up and eat them—they do nothing to quell the rumbling in Lamina’s stomach; unfortunately, tesserae doesn’t do much to quell an appetite.

School’s out for the day—mostly everyone has left, besides the few troublemakers that still roam the halls, trying to escape detention. Perhaps, to them, Lamina looks the same. Or at least she hopes she does; it might keep them off her back. She watches as they jostle around by the door, trying to shove one another out into the heavy rain, thunder rumbling every few seconds. They laugh and shout as boys typically do, the way her cousins do when she sees them.

The sound of new footsteps growing closer prompts Lamina into action, turning her head. Newly-cut hair tickles her neck, but it’s forgotten quickly when Treech’s sharp, cheeky grin comes into sight.

“Thank goodness,” Lamina pushed herself off of the wall. “I was starting to think you were going to ditch me.”

“Ditch you?” He gasped, as though it were a crime worth the punishment of a hanging. “How dare you think so lowly of me.” He swung a heavy arm around her neck, pulling her along to the door where the boys are still shouting. As it always does, her heart speeds up ever so slightly at the chance of an altercation, but it doesn’t matter now that Treech is here—he’s popular within the small school.

She grimaces as the first few drops hit her face, and then all at once as Treech throws them out into the weather, at its mercy. Its cold texture shocks her at first, but Treech just laughs, as if there could be nothing better in the world than to be exposed to the elements, feeling life itself. Perhaps, though she’d only realised it now, he always had been that way.

“Oh—no, let’s go back inside—” she tries, resisting against his hold. “We’ll wait the rain out.”

He’s stronger than he looks, she’s always said so. Tall, firm around the shoulders when he swings her over his shoulder. In this last year of school, it’s like he’s shot up at a thousand miles a second. Lamina yells in surprise, protesting.

“Don’t be a baby,” he calls. “What’s a bit of rain?”

“What will your mother say?” She rolls her eyes playfully, “when you return home with ruined clothes?”

“Not much!” He bounces down the steps of the building, Lamina jostling at his shoulder. She can’t help the laugh that escapes. Treech’s hand on her ankle, just over her boot, holds tighter on the last, steepest step, the other hand he has raised to her hip holding her there.

This isn’t helping the accusations she thinks to herself, flexing her hand against Treech’s neck. My mother will never let this go.

Another part of her brain whispers, do you want her to?

No. She isn’t sure she does.

She’s shaken to life when he suddenly leans forward, hands releasing her. Lamina’s boots crunch the gravel and stones. They’re on the Main Street now, through the town. And she’s drenched from head to toe. A glance up at Treech shows her that he is, too. What were this morning dirt-brown curls, shiny and soft, are now flat against his head like a wet dog, his jacket dripping water. He still beams at her, and snatches her hand.

“Come on, then!” He calls, yanking her into a run with him. “I got something for you!”

She pants with exertion, trying to keep up with him. He doesn’t let go of her hand, warming it up. “Like what?” She manages. They fly past people on their work breaks, sitting outside their stores. They fly past the peacekeepers patrolling, who simply follow herself and Treech with calculating eyes. They shoot past the barbed-wire fences separating the soggy, dirty woodlands from the town, and the people working out there, axes coming down every few seconds, the people slick with rain and sweat.

She tries not to think of the future. Of what will be for her and Treech in only five months. A torturous summer, a lifetime of work. Another Reaping. If they can make it this final Reaping without being called up, they’ll be safe for the rest of their lives. Just let them turn eighteen, after the Reaping. They’ve been lucky since the Reapings started, just before they turned seven years of age. Luck has been on their side, mostly. Ten years, no calling their names.

Lamina hopes with all her heart, so hard, that it physically aches.

Treech finds a spot just behind a building due for demolition in a couple of weeks. There are no peacekeepers this far out of town, there’s nobody this far out of town, especially not in this weather. You’d have to be insane, she thinks.

“What is it?” Lamina’s brows raise, staring Treech down. His own eyebrows jump, a sly little grin coming to his face; it fits him well. Tanned hands dig around in the pockets of his pants, until finally he pulls out a small, white package.

“What is this?” She snickers, in a way she only does around Treech and her family. “Some sort of deal?”

“Only just,” he shrugs his shoulders, gesturing for her hands. She holds them out without question—trust came easily between them. He tipped the package until two little things fell into her palm.

Her eyes wide, Lamina can’t believe it. “No. Way. But—how did you get these?” The two small, wrapped candies are a delicacy she only had the luxury of tasting once, in a memory before the war, before the first games.

He winked. “Well now, I can’t go ‘round just telling anybody the tricks of the trade, can I?”

She rolled her eyes, a smile betraying her, and moved to pull her hand away. Treech’s larger one shot out, clasping hers closed around the candy.

“What, changed your mind?”

“Don’t I get a reward for my hard work?” He asks, not shy in the slightest.

She scoffs loudly, shoving him away softly. “My presence is enough, don’t you think?”

They sit, knees knocking in the rain, eating stolen candies.

Anything for one another.

Summer comes around much too quickly. School ends, the weather ramps up and sooner rather than later, the days are scorching.

Lamina knows, this is where things begin to head downhill.

Working in the woods is torture, in the heat. Peacekeepers guard the place, and have it surrounded. No breaks are to be taken unless they say so. Her skin is burned and sore before she knows it, and she hasn’t talked to her friends even once in the last two months. The shifts are exhausting, and prompt no want to so much as visit anybody quickly. It’s tedious, tiring work, but she becomes quick with an axe before she knows it, as if it was second nature. There’s always the fear of striking herself, something she tries to not think of before bed at night. But it never comes.

The Reaping is approaching. Only a matter of weeks away. And she prays to whatever is up there, whoever it is that her grandmother prays to, also, that she will be kept safe and granted this final wish.

Two months after the start of working long days, Lamina finally catches a glimpse of Treech. He’s just a few yards away, swinging that axe into the base of a tree with another guy on the opposite side of it. Under the unforgiving sun, his tan skin shines with sweat. He’s built up more muscle than he had at school, but the little amount of food everyone receives even after working isn’t enough to build up the way anyone should in District 7.

A peacekeeper notices she’s stopped working, and yells, jabbing her in the neck with the end of his gun. The altercation causes people to look and stare, until she raises her axe on sore arms and brings it down once more, splitting wood over and over again. People go back to work, but she slows ever so slightly, looking to her left.

Treech, dark-eyed, sleeves rolled up, watching.

He looks away before she can smile.

Reaping day comes around.

And the world comes crashing down.

Her name, the mayor calls.

Treech’s name, last.

He doesn’t look her in the eyes.

She can’t stop the crying.

She can’t believe their luck.

Or rather, lack thereof.

It happens quickly.

A long trip to the Capitol, embarrassed on live television. A capture in a zoo enclosure. A mentor in red shows up for one of the tributes, a Lucy Gray Baird. Where is Lamina’s tribute, she wonders? What about Treech’s? Don’t they care?

It’s the first night in the zoo that he talks to her.

“I’m sorry.”

The whisper comes when everyone else is asleep, the zoo empty of visitors, the night cooler than it gets in the district.

Lamina turns her head, aching on concrete. At her side, Treech is watching her. She’d been watching the starry sky, wondering if it would be the last time she saw them ever. Who knew; maybe she could win this thing.

Her eyes burn with tears again, throat closing up. And she nods.

“It’s okay.”

He reaches for her hand, and she lets him take it.

“I’ve got your back, alright? You can trust me.”

They meet with their mentors the next day. Treech has a girl who is soft-spoken and almost kind. Lamina gets a harsh boy, who smugly states, “You will win, Lamina.”

But not for her sake.

She can’t stop crying in there, either, under the judging gaze of her mentor, who runs through a list of everything she can do to win this game, including a detailed plan of which tributes to take out first—Dill, an ill girl who coughs through the night; Wovey, she’s young, an easy target. And then the ones to look out for—Treech, he says, but she knows he won’t touch her; Coral, who has been eyeing her up already, looking for her weak points.

They’re led back to the zoo straight after the meeting. Visitors come and go—Lamina almost wished they’d stay, and make the day last longer, to avoid the games tomorrow morning.

On the edge of sleep, she can’t quite grasp what is is that’s happening when peacekeepers burst into the zoo and demand they get in the truck. Panic strikes her so firmly in the face that Treech has to pull her along into the vehicle, by the hand, like they’re back in school.

They’re shown the arena they are due to fight to the death in from tomorrow morning. It’s huge, and she tries the best she can to take in all the places she could hide—there aren’t many. It’s one big, open space. She feels more hopeless and desperate than ever.

“Hey—lumberjack,” the girl—Coral, Lamina remembers her as—calls over to Treech. “Come here.”

Treech nods his head over to her. “Lamina—”

“No. Just you,” Coral says firmly. She eyes Lamina up and down. “Just you.”

And now she wants to scream. Wants to tear down the arena inch by inch with nothing but her hands, even if they bleed. Wants to shoot the peacekeepers away, wants to pull Treech back to her and demand he doesn’t let her go.

But, wishes aren’t granted when you’re from the districts. She should have been used to it by now.

People are watching them when Treech abandons her, walking over the Coral.

That’s when the bombing starts.

‘Rebels’ she hears a peacekeeper cry. The arena begins to fall to pieces and she can’t believe her eyes. Dust, fire and sparks fly up from everywhere, making it hard to breathe. The dirt in her eyes stings and burns, and she stumbles for a second, rocks and pieces of rubble hitting her skin, hurting her. She can’t see anyone, but she hears him.

“Lamina?”

It’s a loud, terrified shout of her name, and it hurts her a little bit more.

Treech shouts again, less sure this time. In a way, she’s glad he’s worried. On the other hand, she’s just as scared for him. At least he isn’t dead.

Someone picks her up from the floor with such vigor that it makes her dizzy, still unable to see. People are shouting and crying all around. All she does is hope the person pulling her along is someone good.

It’s a peacekeeper. He shoves her back into the wagon, falling into Dill, one of the other girls. One by one, the tributes are rounded up again, and taken back to the zoo. Treech is the last to be put on the wagon, heaving for breath. He blinks wide-eyed at Lamina, wiping his hands across his face, trying to get as much dirt off as he can.

She’s hurt. Physically, it’s easy to deal with the pain. More than once she’s fallen in the woods and had more splinters than she can count stuck in her hands. But emotionally, she’s scared. Treech has willingly offered himself up to another group—an alliance, she wants to call it, without a second thought. They’re supposed to be partners—if not district partners, at least friends.

That night, Treech sleeps away from her, on the other side of the pen.

And in the morning, when the games begin, he doesn’t talk to her. She cries the whole way to the arena, trying to hold it all inside, but she’s loud. Reaper, one of the boys, keeps glancing over at her, and she’s terrified. He’s sizing her up for the kill, she knows he is. He’s bigger than her, a lot stronger, and he hasn’t shown one bit of weakness this whole time. Coral grins cruelly when she meets Lamina’s eye, and again in the arena, when the countdown begins.

The bell rings, signally the start of the end. It’s a bloodbath already, but a sudden determination has struck her. She will not die here. There’s a small axe relatively close, at the bottom of the pile of rubble the others are climbing up, striking one another for the best weapon. She’s trying to ignore the district 2 boy, hanging from a rafter. Is he still alive? She’s not sure. Maybe he escaped last night in the bombing—she didn’t see him back at the zoo.

She’s got her weapon, and she gets out of there, climbing a broken beam all the way to the top. There’s a good vantage point up here, where she can watch the other tributes, the whole arena, and see who’s coming.

It’s a long, slow game.

Up from her height, she watches people die, just glad it’s not her. It’s awful to see, of course, but she thinks the more that go already, the more chance she has of getting home. They’ve all noticed her, sitting and watching, but nobody has approached, not yet. She keeps note of Treech guiding his little group away from her where he can, and wishes she could laugh. He’s abandoned her, left her to fend for herself, but tries in his own way to help.

Whatever was the point?

A day passes, and then the night, and before she knows it, she’s tired, thirsty and starving. Nobody has sent anything yet. Nothing at all to anybody.

But plenty have died.

Eventually, when she thinks she might be safe, Coral comes for her. Mizzen, a small, skinny boy, comes from one side, climbing up, and Coral the other, approaching her like a trapped animal. Treech and another boy watch from below.

She tries her best.

She hopes her family know that. She really, really fought to the end.

When Coral strikes her the first time, she’s stolen of breath. Lamina drops her axe, her heart plummeting in shock. This can’t be happening, surely? This isn’t the end, right? Treech wouldn’t leave her up for the kill, would he?

Oh, but he would. Lamina gasps, trying not to scream. Her betrayed eyes drop down to Treech as her hand shakes violently, trying to push down on her bleeding stomach, punctured from Coral’s weapon. Treech has turned pale, his eyes so wide, looking at her and away, at her and away.

Coral strikes her again, in the chest this time, and Lamina shouts, her whole body weak and shaking. Coral pushes her off the edge of where she thought she found safety, and she plummets toward the ground, dizzy and tired.

It doesn’t take long.

Her last thought belongs to Treech.

for @lofhdfn who requested the Treech and Lamina fic :)

‘It doesn’t take long’ hurt me icl. It took a while to get this out, I rewrote it a couple of times but I think I’m fairly happy with it, now. This is more of an interpretation story, I didn’t want to make anything too set in stone in case it didn’t go well or didn’t work with things I planned while writing it. I did take a bit out, but I tried to include as much angst as I could while still showing how they cared for one another.

omg I just realized I wrote district 7 when I meant 4 💀 I'm too sleep deprived for my own health I swear. Anyways I absolutely loved the fic and now I shall live in my own delulu world of coral surviving 😭😭 - N

lol i’m glad you enjoyed it!! it happens to the best of us 💀

and coral literally survived idk wym!!!!! she’s alive and healthy and we are literally together rn 🫶🏼🫶🏼

✨mr krabs i have ideas✨

festus with tanners mentor!girlfriend makes my brain tingle because there’s so much there

arachne and her being so happy they get to work together because they both got the 10s. controversially i am an arachne lover so childhood bestie!arachne is everything to me. they could never make me hate her. 😔

festus and her being there when arachne dies at the zoo and (according to book canon) walking home with clemmie and coryo after she’s taken by medics. festus proposes they all go to his apartment but when they get there he bursts into tears and mentor!girlfriend has to send clemmie and coryo on their way and ushers festus inside and stays with him.

later trying to convince festus to create an alliance between coral and tanner and festus teasingly telling her that he could think of a few ways she could convince him

her and festus being together at the arena but went their seperate ways to talk to other mentors and gather information. bombs go off and chaos ensues as they try to find each other

i have so many festus thoughts but im just going to leave this here and not be annoying

SpongeBob! You popped the fuck off with this one! (Also not annoying at all pls send me all your festus thoughts) also also sorry this took so long I finished uni for Christmas and have been in every day since oops, I really enjoyed writing this though. More festus to come ⁎⁺˳✧༚

- you and Arachne are basically siblings the way you grew up together

- I’m talking inseparable : born within two weeks of each-other and grew up as next door neighbours, walked into the academy on your first day together holding hands, sat next to each other at lunch every day, had joint birthday parties every year, etc

- no one could tear the two of you apart

- well, except a pretty determined festus creed, who laid eyes on you the second you walked into that classroom at 6 years old and knew he wanted to be your best friend instead

- Arachne, ever the social butterfly, was quick to attract a large group of friends around the two of you, which gave festus the perfect chance to get to know you better

- as the years went by you and Arachne stayed best friends, but if anyone asked you to name your closest friends, festus creed would also be on that list

- he was ever so charming, and a good listener (though only when it came to you) and when everyone seemed to move at Arachne’s beck and call, he would wait for yours to do anything

- it was sweet, in its own way, and it’s one of the things that drives the two of you to end up together

- like, obviously, festus has had a crush on you since he was a boy

- but you finally start to realise you like him back when all these little things start adding up

- he looks at you for your reaction whenever someone says something, he sits or walks or stands next to you at every chance he gets, he brings you the homework when you’re sick, he carries your bag around for you, he pulls your chair out for you in the canteen

- honestly the list goes on and on

- but the thing that finally gets the two of you together is when you and Arachne have a fight

- it had only been something stupid, but because everyone was Archane’s friend before they were yours, they take her side

you’d been sat on the steps outside the academy, eating your lunch alone in the sunshine while everyone else had gathered at your usual table. Though you knew you were still welcome there, you didn’t want to have to deal with the silent treatment from Arachne (and therefore everyone else) while she built up the courage to admit she was wrong like she always eventually did when it came to you. It was peaceful away from the noise of the canteen, and you found you didn’t mind being alone - at least, alone until the sound of someone running down the steps and right towards you, reached your ears.

Festus Creed took a seat right beside you, his lunch tray in hand and his backpack in the other. “You didn’t show up to lunch. I was worried sick.”

“Me and Arachne had a fight, a squabble really. It was literally over what we thought one of the answers were on the history of Panem homework.” Festus laughed as you did, swapping half of his orange with half of your apple slices. “She’s upset with me though, so I figured everyone would be upset with me.”

“Well, if it makes you fell any better, I think she’s upset with me now as well.” You looked at him confused; your confusion only growing as a smile curled on his lips. “I don’t think she’s too fond of the fact that I am oh so fond of you.”

you lean in and kiss him before his words can truly settle inside of you. but hours later, when they fully do, all you can think about is how you can’t wait to kiss him again sometime.

- when the reaping finally roles around, you and all your friends having to take on the role of mentors for the tributes, you and Arachne get the boy and the girl from 10 and it couldn’t be more perfect

- well, it’d be more perfect if you didn’t have to be mentors at all but, you know what I mean

- the two of you basically plan for your tributes to team up to fight against the other tributes because obviously 🙄 but all that goes awry when Arachne’s tribute kills her

your first reaction is complete stillness and silence. from the moment Arachne’s girl reaches through the bars of the zoo and stabs her right in the throat you have been completely silent. you couldn’t move, you couldn’t think, you couldn’t breath, you couldn’t scream. Total nothingness. you could only watch as Coriolanus ran forward, bravely pressing his hands against the wound in an effort to save your best friend. You didn’t even manage to get the words out to thank sweet Sejanus plinth, who dragged you to the floor and pressed you under him as peacekeepers rain bullets at the rouge tribute. Even when the gunfire stops and Arachne lies too still for a living person, even when Festus takes you from Sejanus and thanks him on your behalf, even on the walk home sandwiched between festus and Coryo, who’s hands are still covered in the thick of Arachne’s blood, you can’t seem to find the words. It’s only on the doorstep of festus’s apartment - the smell familiar and warm and welcoming - when things seem to catch up to you.

before he can even unlock the door to let you, Coriolanus, and Clemensia inside you’ve burst into hysterical tears: sobbing, gasping, wretching at the thought of what you’ve lost tonight. Festus sends Coryo and Clemmie on their way and ushers your inside, through the house and right to his bedroom, where he guides you to sit on the edge of the bed and kneels before you, hands cradling your face. “You’re okay, you’re okay sweet thing, just breathe.” His grip on your face tightens ever so slightly when you don’t seem to calm down, but it only helps to ground your more. “Breathe with me okay? You’re gonna be okay, sweet thing, it’s all gonna be okay.”

- you sit front row of her funeral beside Coriolanus and selfishly wish you had festus at your side instead

- when festus makes his way to his seat, which he finds is right behind yours, he reaches his hand between the gaps in the chairs and connects it with yours

- he holds your hand the whole way through the funeral and after, until the two of you end up in bed that night and he finally lets go to hold you fully, pressed against his chest as he cradled you to him

- when he wakes up the following morning however, it’s like he’s with an entirely different version of you

- it’s still you, but you’re cold, refusing to cry or grieve or do anything but focus on the games - all you want now is to get things over and done with

- winning doesn’t matter and you don’t really care what happens to your tribute, you just want to go home (which was concerning to you because physically, you were home)

“you need to convince Coral to partner up with Tanner.” you’re sitting at your dressing table as you to speak to Festus, him in his uniform on your bed as he waited for you to get ready to go and bond further with your tributes for the day. “He doesn’t stand a chance alone, he needs the help. Coral does, hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if they won.”

Festus only wiggled his eyebrows at you, meeting your gaze in the reflection of your mirror. “Well, sweet thing, I’m sure I could be convinced…” Festus is quickly quietened by your hairbrush smacking against his chest. “I was only saying!”

When he sees you try and smother the smile that tries to form on your face he stands from the bed, crossing the room, and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, speaking to your reflection. “Everything is going to be okay sweet thing. Trust me. In a week from now all this will be behind us and we can get on with the rest of our lives. You and me, a house somewhere in the upper city, two university degrees, other things. Whatever you want will be ours.” Your hands reached up to hold into his arms that wrapped around you, squeezing them lovingly as your stoic composure quickly dissolved. “But if what will soothe your roaring mind right now is an alliance between our tributes, then an alliance you shall have, sweet thing.”

You lean into his hold, titling your head to press a kiss to his clothed arm. “I love you, festus.” It didn’t matter that you knew he wouldn’t say it back just yet, he had always had a hard time verbalising his feelings, because you knew that he loved you, you could feel it right in this moment more then ever before.

- and then, only hours later, the trip to the arena came, and with it, the attack from the rebels

- festus had left your side for approximately 5 seconds, going to drag coral away from Tanner and the boy from 7 (who you hoped were all planning an alliance) when the first bomb went off

your ears ring with a shrill noise that only further disoriented you, your view blurry as you looked up from the rubbed floor of the arena and into the flames. the blast of the bomb from behind you had sent you flying forward, yet, you couldn’t see festus anywhere. smoke filled the room and rubble littered the floors, pieces of the ceiling and walls falling into the centre of the arena in the aftershocks.

you try and stand but your legs fail you and your arms shake with the effort you used to try and push yourself off of the floor. Rubble is falling closer and closer to you with each second, you can’t hear or see anything to anyone, let alone festus, and you’re sure that this is how you’re going to die.

just as you’re about it close your eyes and accept your fate, a shadow emerges from the ashes, running in your direction and yelling what you think is your name. it’s only when they grab you by the arms and hoist you up that you begin to see and hear properly again. “Coral.” You whisper, reaching out and caressing their face.

they seem unfazed, wrapping your arm around their shoulder and holding it against their collar bone while the other wraps tightly around your waist. “your leg is injured, so I’m going to have to drag you, okay? It might hurt.” your barley feel the pain in your leg and if you were any more conscious you might be worried about that, but right now all you can think about is how they came and saved you from the rubble. Coral could’ve ran, for freedom, to leave you for dead, for whatever. but they hadn’t, and a part of you didn’t really understand.

“you saved me.” you whispered, only loud enough for them to hear as they continued to drag you through the arena and to the exit. “what about you’re friends?”

“they’re fine.” they answered, helping you through the barricade and ever closer to safety. “so’s your little boyfriend. they all got dragged out by peacekeepers pretty quickly. we were too far in the destruction to be found as fast.”

you hear him before you see him. festus creed is calling your name in a wretched cry, sobs accentuating everything that came from his mouth. and when you catch sight of his frame, he’s being restrained by two peacekeepers, who seem to be insisting that he can’t go back in there, that’s they’ll find you but he needs to wait out here. before you can call out to him, Coral does so for you. “they need help! their leg!”

all eyes turn to you. you and the tribute from four gripping tightly onto each other, covered in ash and scrapes, hand gripping hand. it’s something festus never thought he’d see and it has him questioning everything he’s ever known. maybe the people from the districts were just like you and him. maybe everything he’d been told was wrong and it was silly to punish children, like himself, for the crimes of their fathers.

what he does know for certain is that he’s never run so fast in his life. he reaches you before the peacekeepers can and tears you from Corals hold, thanking them profusely even as peacekeepers drag them away to go with the rest of the tributes who made it out alive. he grips you with a strength you didn’t know he had, a hand cupping the back of your head and holding you tight against him. “I thought I lost you, God, I thought I lost you. I though you were…” he can’t say it, can’t bring himself to speak it out loud less he makes it come true. “All the rubble and the smoke and the fires, and when I tried to search for you they dragged me out. They told me I couldn’t go back in for you: I would’ve gone back in. I never should’ve left your side, what if you’d-“

He shakes his head, pulling you out of the safety of his hold so he can cup your face, thumbs runnings cross your tear-stained cheeks as he looks at you. “Never leave me. Not like that, not ever. Please. Promise me.”

He’s never sounded so pleading, so desperate, and he’s never wanted for anything more in his life. “I won’t, I’m sorry, I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay.” You’re a blubbering mess in festus’s arms, gripping to the back of his red blazer like your life depends on it. Your cries only worsen as the ringing in your ears starts to fade and you start to feel a throbbing pain in your leg. “I’m sorry. I love you, I love you.”

“I love you too, I love you too, I love you too.”

- festus follows you to the hospital and everywhere else after that

- but like seriously

- he already knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you and the attack in the arena only solidified that idea

- the hunger games are over and Lucy grey is crowned their winner within the week

- festus proposes the following morning

Jennifer Lawrence at the Golden Globes 2024!

What do you mean Finnick is dead?

The Finnick that makes Annie and his son cute little bento boxes everyday?

The Finnick that takes his family on excursions to Districts 7 and 12 to meet Uncle Peeta, Uncle Haymitch, Auntie Johanna and Auntie Katniss every year?

The Finnick who likes to throw Johanna and Katniss into the ocean whenever they manage to make their way over to District 4?

Nah. Finnick isn't dead.

Hey! I just suddenly had an idea for a fic so can I req something for coral x district 7 -> capitol reader? Where R is like Sejanus and moved from the districts to the capitol, before she moved though she was dating coral (ignore all the weird timeline stuff sdfjvjd). Years later she's given coral for her to mentor and basically their kinda reunion at the zoo where they sort out their misunderstandings and etc... (why do I actually love this concept) Thank you and feel free to change things around! Take care <33 - N

long lost lovers → coral

coral!tbosas x reader

notes → in which you and coral are reunited under troublesome circumstances. i made the reader from district four just to try and make it make a little more sense in my head :) this is such a good idea, i hope you like it!! feminine intended reader

warnings → the whole reunion part is a little rushed imo.. not edited & uploaded via iphone.

     none of your classmates were rather fond of you. they thought it quite entitled that you had bought your way into the capitol, as if you wanted to be there in the first place. to them, you might as well have been "animal," along with all of the other district kids. you tried to keep quiet, in an attempt to avoid the torment they inflicted on you, and it worked for the most part. your counterpart, sejanus, was subject to similar circumstances as you, having moved to the capitol after the war had ended. he, on the other hand, had a much different plan of action than you. sejanus was very outspoken, a trait you admired, though it was not very appreciated by your classmates and teachers. having seen how they treated him when you first moved there, you decided it would be best if you just kept your mouth shut.

     among some of the top students of the academy, focused mostly on your studies instead of your nonexistent social life, you were picked to be a mentor for the tenth annual hunger games. but it was also plausible that your parents had bought you a spot as a mentor to “push you out of your comfort zone.” it was more like punishment than privilege to you, being forced to mentor someone you may have known. faces flashed across the screen during the reapings, those of children of various ages, some more malnourished than others. dean highbottom called out names as the tributes were being announced. your breath hitched when he reached your assigned tribute. the district four girl, a rather familiar face. you hadn’t seen the girl in years, two, to be exact. all the memories you had with her, the feelings you forgot you could feel, which you thought you had left back in district four, came flooding back. you were itching to see her again, and you couldn’t help but wonder when that day would come, but you knew it couldn’t come fast enough.

     it was agonizing, waiting for the time to come where you could visit coral. you had been thinking of what you would say since the day she was assigned to you. first and foremost, she was definitely due an apology. you had moved to the capitol without warning, awoken one day with directions to pack your most precious belongings. you left with no chance to say goodbye to coral. of course, you tried writing her tear stained letter after letter, but with no response for months on end, it was either she officially despised you, or your mother was intercepting your mail. you prayed it was the latter, but the day had finally come where you would find out. you hurriedly made your way to the zoo after collecting some of the finest capitol foods to offer her, in hopes that food would make the meeting a little more bearable for the both of you.

     immediately, you caught sight of the girl. and oh, was she a sight for sore eyes. coral, your girl, the only person you could ever open up to, was so close to you after having been separated for so long. you lacked self-restraint, scrambling up to the bars like a lunatic. “coral!” you cried, causing heads to turn your way. her eyes met yours, a striking blue, just as beautiful as the last time you had seen them, but with a new tinge of anger that hadn’t been there before. she didn’t run up to you like you thought she would’ve. no, she stayed sat on her rock, staring at you, dumbfounded. had it been a mistake to come? maybe after all this time with no contact, she had really started to hate you. or worse, she had forgotten about you. it took her district partner, mizzen, nudging her to wake her from her daze. coral slowly got up, stick still in her hand, and hesitantly walked towards you. “coral, i’m so, so sorry,” you started, reaching for her hand before she aggressively pulled it back.

     “save it. it’s not your fault i’m here,” she claimed, tone bitter, but underneath that, you could sense it was coming from a place of pain. 

     “about leaving, coral. i swear to you, i didn’t have a choice. my parents never told me anything, they made me pack the day we left. i tried writing, but they wouldn’t send my letters out,” you were about to cry, at this point. a part of coral wanted nothing more than to wipe your rising tears away and hold you close, forgetting about all the pain you caused by abandoning her. she could see where you were coming from, but her world had shattered when you left. the hole you left in her heart had been left to rot, filling with resentment. but as she witnessed you now, as heartbroken as she had been, the blame seemed to lift off of your shoulders.

     “so you didn’t leave me.. just like that?” coral asked. it was like a stab to the chest that she ever thought you would do that to her. coral had once expressed her fear of abandonment to you, and to her it appeared that you had gone and done just that. the girl, who just a moment ago stood defensive and closed off, now looked especially vulnerable.

     “i could never, coral. i loved you more than anything, still do. i never wanted to leave!” you expressed. coral dropped her stick, taking a small step closer to you. 

     “if… you mean that.. i missed you. it’s not the same back home without you,” she claimed, nodding her head slightly. you smiled sorrowfully. you had missed a lot in coral’s life, it felt like there was no possible way you could make up for lost time.

     “i’ve missed you too. here, eat, i brought you some food,” you invited, sitting down to get comfortable. you wanted to spend as much time with her as you could. coral was close behind, accepting the arrangement of food you slid her through the bars. she examined it, deciding which to try first “remember when we used to have picnics? on the weekends. we’d sit on the dock and just talk,” you reminisced as coral smiled at the memory, already stuffing her face with food. you were glad she was finally getting some sustenance for the first time since she had arrived.

     “the good ol’ days,” she joked, then proceeded to go silent for a few moments. “…what’s gonna happen when i have to go in there?” you didn’t think that through very well, too preoccupied with your reunion to remember who you had to thank for it- the capitol. maybe the source of all of your problems. you started to resent everything about the place you were forced called home. running away may have been the only option to get away from it all.

     “i’ll get you out of here. then we’ll leave, together. i promise.” you finally had her back, and there was no way you would be letting her go now.

girls do their daily affirmations and still cry when a boy is mean to them (it’s me, i’m girls)

district two → masonry

“our nation would be nothing without district two’s superb stonework. it builds and fortifies our cities and its citizens are known individually for their strength.”

a cowboy and a capitol girl → tanner

tanner!tbosas x reader

notes → in which you find it a struggle to connect with your tribute, too distracted by his charm. this was supposed to be a request fill but i got too off track, sorry 😭

warnings → not edited & uploaded via iphone. 2k+ words

     you had been taking an early walk, hours before you were required to get ready for school, when you saw your classmate, coriolanus, already dressed in his uniform, a white rose in hand. he was walking with purpose, a pep in his step as if he had somewhere to be this early in the day. there was something odd about it, and before you could stop yourself, your feet were carrying you to him.

     “coryo!” you called out, running to close the gap between the two of you. the boy stopped, shocked that someone he knew was up early enough to see him. it was clear he wasn’t expecting it, as he tensed up, putting on a faux smile for you. “where are you going this early?” you pushed, squinting your eyes at him skeptically. he opened his mouth to answer, but you cut him off. “and what’s with the rose?”

     “well, y/n, i was planning to meet my tribute when she arrives at the train station.” he answered, truthfully, to your surprise. it was quite a clever idea. you recalled coriolanus’ tribute, the small girl from district twelve who sang a song after shoving a snake down a girl’s dress. her voice was quite haunting, if you were being honest with yourself, but you were almost certain she was a psychopath. that was useless to her here, though. she could do no harm given her small frame, and she was no match for the other tributes. 

     “may i join you?” you asked politely, even though you intended to do so despite whatever his answer was. you had been intrigued by your tribute ever since he was assigned to you, even taking this walk to brainstorm strategy, and you were eager to finally meet him. coriolanus obviously wanted to object, but you came from a very powerful family who’s bad side he did not want to be on. not to mention, you could help him persuade the peacekeepers if he was forced to, so he agreed. you kept a steady pace with him as you made your way to the station, walking inside the building hurriedly. the early morning breeze made you shiver, and you realized how inconveniently you were dressed. you were clothed just in your pajamas as well as a fleece cardigan with your family crest plastered on the back that didn’t offer much protection from the wind. 

      you must’ve been waiting there for a couple of hours. at this point, you opted to just sit down, leaning back against a metal post in the spacious station. you had already informed a peacekeeper to contact your mother and let her know where you were, and within the next half hour your driver arrived with your school bag and uniform. you quickly changed in the back of the spacious vehicle, digging through your bag for the small hairbrush you kept and brushing the tangles out of your hair. you were worried that the tributes would arrive as you were getting ready, but thankfully, you scrambled back into the station just as the whistle that signaled a train’s arrival blew. your brows furrowed in confusion as you saw coriolanus turning around, preparing to leave.

     “what’s wrong?” you asked the boy, placing your hand on his bicep to prevent him from walking away further.

     “it’s a cargo train, the tributes aren’t here. we might as well go home,” he informed you, continuing to leave before a distinctly human cry came from one of the carts. almost immediately, he turned around, walking closer to the train, you right beside him.

     “there’s no way…” you muttered, in disbelief that they couldn’t even provide the tributes with decent transportation before they sent them to their death. really, you shouldn’t have been all that surprised, considering the capitol’s track record. typically, you would not put something like this above them, but it felt so surreal knowing that your tribute was in one of those carts. twenty minutes had passed of you and coriolanus sitting anxiously in silence, waiting for peacekeepers to unlock the carts and let the tributes out. you had half a mind to demand them to do so, but you decided against it with a protest from coriolanus. finally, a few peacekeepers sauntered to the train, taking their time as they opened the carts one by one. the stench of manure reeked from the carts, and you gagged as the scent filled your nostrils. nothing could’ve prepared you for seeing the tributes in person, especially in the conditions they were in. coriolanus’ tribute, lucy gray, emerged from the second cart, and he became preoccupied with the girl. as patiently as you could, you waited as the peacekeepers opened the third cart, threatening the tributes to come out. 

     your eyes lit up as you saw tanner for the first time in person. his back was turned to you, but you recognized the outfit he had worn during the reaping. nervousness crept up on you as you debated approaching him, but that was the whole reason you joined coriolanus, and you didn’t want to have waited multiple hours for nothing.

     “tanner?” you called, catching his attention, as well as the few tributes around the boy. he sized you up with a menacing glare as you took a hesitant step closer to him. “i’m y/n, i’ll be your mentor.” your eyes darted up to peer into his as you stuck your hand out. he didn’t take it, leaving you slightly flushed from embarrassment. “well.. welcome to the capitol!” was the best you could do, trying to keep your cool.

     “a real warm welcome alright. your peacekeepers yanked my district partner out of the cart by her hair.” tanner scorned distastefully.

     “woah, woah, woah, who did?” you asked, tone growing concerned as your hand instinctively reached for his arm. he nodded his head in the direction of a younger peacekeeper, and you excused yourself, striding over to the man. “sir, pray tell, what does peacekeeper mean?” you demanded, stealing the man’s attention.

     “miss l/n, oh wow.. uhm, to keep peace in panem, ma’am.” he answered, surprised by your presence. it was not a shock that he knew your face, your family had been well known in the capitol for many generations.

     “right. and is pulling a girl by her hair keeping peace, officer?” you queried rhetorically. the man shook his head shamefully. “so, to make things clear, you weren’t doing your job correctly? i’d go as far to say that you were doing the opposite,” the man shook his head once more. “than i will see to it that you will no longer be employed. hell, you may never be employed again if it was in my wishes,” you remarked, promptly walking back towards tanner, whose face held a look of astonishment.

     “damn, i didn’t think you had that in you,” tanner mused, a southern drawl peeking out, giving him an alluring charm. you smiled, glad that he seemed to be warming up to you.

     “right, so.. as your mentor, i’m supposed to help you win the games, and introduce you to the capitol,” you explained in another attempt to get him to trust you.

     “how so?” he simply asked, scanning your eyes for any sign of deception, which he didn’t find.

     “well…” you thought long and hard hard for an answer, but came out empty handed. the boy laughed, and although it was directed towards you, you couldn’t help but think his laugh attractive. “i’m currently trying to figure that out. that’s why i came to greet you here! i really wanted to meet you, y’know.” the comment seemed a little too flirtatious as it escaped your mouth, and you cringed as tanner raised his eyebrows.

     “yea?” he teased, smiling slightly at your embarrassment. you nodded hesitantly, just to see how he would take the comment. tanner was amused, it was evident, but you weren’t sure that it would be enough to win his trust. from what you had gained, flattery could possibly be the way to his heart, and you decided to continue further down that path.

     “mhm, you were real handsome on camera. it won’t be hard to get the capitol to like you. you could win, too. easily, given your physique.” you complimented, just to see how far adulation could take you, and partially because you meant it. sure, it was over the top, but you would gladly take on the role of a sycophant if it meant tanner would cooperate with you.

     “well, you’re not too bad yourself, cutie,” the boy shot right back at you, causing you to stutter as you processed his statement. blood rushed to your face as you tried to brainstorm something to say. peacekeepers beat you to it, though, herding the tributes to a van near the entrance of the train. tanner was whisked away, the gap between the two of you growing by the second, and you stood next to coriolanus, slumped. your chance had slipped out of your grasp, and you were more than embarrassed as you realized you had wasted your time flirting with tanner. coriolanus was inquiring a peacekeeper about something you weren’t paying attention to, instead staring longingly at tanner’s shrinking figure climbing into the truck, disappearing from your line of sight, and suddenly coriolanus had grabbed your wrist, pulling you along with him.

     “let’s go, y/n” he said, following the path the tributes had taken to the entrance of the station. “we’re going with ‘em.” the truck heavily resembled a cage on wheels, reminding you of what they had used to transport circus animals before the rebellion. coriolanus hoisted himself into the cage, hauling you in after him. the door slammed shut behind you, making you jump. coriolanus took you to the front of the truck with him, eyeing the tributes apprehensively.

     “what’s the matter, pretty boy? you in the wrong cage?” said the boy from district eleven, reaper, if you had remembered correctly.

     “no, this cage is delightful.” coriolanus remarked. reaper surged forward, hands encircling coriolanus’ throat, you tried to back up, shocked, but instead fell into the lap of a tribute, brandy. tanner’s district partner. you were unable to pick yourself back up in the cramped car, forcing you to remain, stuck, head pushed against her knees.

     “i will kill you right now,” reaper threatened, inches away from coriolanus’ face.

     “he’ll do it too,” reaper’s district partner, dill, coughed out. “reaper killed a peacekeeper back in eleven. they never even found out who did it.” reaper growled at the girl to shut up. “who cares now?” dill hopelessly whispered.

     “i say we all kill ‘em,” spoke up bobbin, the boy from eight, viciously.

     “i’m in,” brandy mocked, glaring down at you with malicious intent. you gave coriolanus a look, both of you rigid with fear. 

     “oh, hush, brandy. she’s the one who helped you earlier, remember? got that peacekeeper who pulled you out fired. we’re not killing her,” tanner reprimanded his partner condescendingly. he was stationed nearby the girl, grabbing your hand to help you up and pulling you towards him. the contact seemed to make the rest of the world stop, leaving just you and your tribute. there was discourse occurring between the rest of the tributes, but it was simply background noise to you. it seemed only like a brief moment, but it was quickly crushed as suddenly, the cage tipped, dropping you down a chute nearly twenty feet. you landed in a heap on the floor, a pained groan escaping your lips. rock formations towered around you, and upon squinting up at your surroundings, you saw that a crowd was formed outside the bars enclosing you. you were in a cage, but not just any cage. the monkey house at the zoo.

     you took notice of the capital children that were gawking in at the lot of you. lucky flickerman’s voice, which you could recognize anywhere, boomed as he spoke into his microphone. standing up slowly, you caught your breath, locating coriolanus, as well as tanner. some of the citizens must have recognized you, calling out into the cage and alerting lucky, who asked why the two of you were in there. you stared at the crowd like a deer in headlights, unconsciously inching towards tanner, who was a foot to your left. he was looking at you expectantly, curious as to why you weren’t already begging to be rescued. coriolanus had already taken quick action, though, guiding lucy gray to the front of the exhibit and interacting with the children that stood there. you groaned in frustration as you realized that he had gotten a one up on you, already stealing the camera man’s attention. his demonstration was being aired to all of panem while you merely stood in the background.

     “is that what you’re supposed to be doing?” tanner asked, nudging you with his elbow.

     “yep,” you deadpanned. it had been a waste of time to go to the train station, you had gotten virtually nowhere in your assignment, instead embarrassing yourself in front of not only your tribute, but all of panem. “i’m sorry for bothering you, tanner. i just wanted you to warm up to me, that’s all.”

     “hey, don’t beat yourself up over it,” tanner tried, brushing your arm. you were delightfully shocked that he had made an attempt to reassure you. maybe your journey to the station had been more fruitful than you believed.

     “thanks, tanner,” you muttered, but peacekeepers soon stormed into the enclosure, striding towards you. looking between the peacekeepers and tanner, you almost didn’t want to leave, deeming him as the much better option. but it was too late for you as a peacekeeper wrapped a hand around your wrist, leading you away.

     “will you be back later?” tanner called out for you, genuine interest in his tone.

     “of course,” you smiled as you were being pulled away, and he offered you a small smile in return. you would undoubtedly be looking forward to seeing him again.

hi! i literally love your treech fics so much! do you think you could write a treech x mentor!reader where she goes to see him at the zoo the night before the games (a bit like coryo and lucy gray)?

kiss of life → treech

treech!tbosas x reader

notes → in which love and life are fleeting as you say your final goodbye to treech. (i stole dialogue directly from the book for this LOL)

warnings → not edited & uploaded via iphone.

     “treech?” you whispered out into the dark. faint hints of moonlight peeked in through the clouds, becoming the only source of illumination in the pitch black of the night. falteringly, you crept closer to the bars of the monkey house, eyes scanning for a sight of your tribute you had grown rather fond of.

     “y/n,” he answered, and you followed the sound of his voice, which had turned far more gravelly since the last time he had spoken to you. once you had located him, you scampered over to the boy, eyes lighting up.

     “thank goodness you’re okay,” you cried, placing a hand to his face. you hadn’t gotten to see him after the explosion in the arena, and you wanted to make sure that he was alright. “gosh, i can’t believe they’re still making you go in there tomorrow!” tense, heavy air settled between the two of you.

     “i’ll be alright. me and the pack got a plan,” he reassured you as your fingers snuck into his hair, which had become rather matted since his arrival in the capitol.

     “just… don’t trust them too much. keep a good distance, please. i have a feeling they’re just going to use you.” you cautioned him, voice unsteadied by worry. the pair from four scared you the most. they had fierce determination in levels you had never witnessed before. while it was admirable, it was rightfully daunting.

     “thank you. for what you’ve done for me. i really have a chance now, ‘cause of you.” although his expression was blank, you could see in his eyes that he meant what he had said. pangs of guilt struck you, as you felt there was so much more you could have done for him. nonetheless, a tender smile made its way across your face.

     “it’s my job. i can’t let you die in there, you mean too much to me.. not just as my tribute, but you. you matter to me. you’re the most incredible boy i’ve ever met.” you confessed, eyes beginning to brim with salty tears, devastated that you would have to part with him when the night came to an end.

     “don’t cry over me, y/n. especially because i’m going to win. for you.” treech promised with certainty. the immense wholeheartedness of his tone brought you an ounce of optimism, and you couldn’t help but add on.

     “i’ll be there in the arena with you. we’ll win together. and once you’re announced victor and i get the plinth prize, i can buy you and your family a way into the capitol,” you suggested. a rather farfetched idea, but desperation and maybe even love had clouded your vision and infiltrated your thoughts. you shouldn’t allow your fantasies to get the best of you, but they all seemed too real as treech became an honest contender to win the tenth annual hunger games. he humored your idea, even though it may not have been possible, as he reached for your hand, squeezing it firmly. his calloused palm, having seen years of labor and hardships, juxtaposed against your softer one. the feeling truly highlighted the difference in your upbringing compared to his own. never had your living conditions led you to have to get a job, or even consider it. you couldn’t imagine having to do so for years in order to make ends meet. it hurt you that treech was not able to make the most of his childhood.

     you and treech had come a long way since the first time you had met him at the zoo. two weeks may not have been that long of a time, but it seemed like an eternity to the two of you, as each day you grew closer to the boy. he seemed to warm up to you more and more with each gift and lingering touch you had left him. originally, treech was quite cautious of you. he didn’t think he could trust you, knowing you were capitol, supposedly endorsing the very systems that wanted to kill him, while still claiming to want to help him. but over the course of the twelve days treech had spent in the capitol, more vulnerable than ever, he realized that not every citizen there had as much ill intent as he once believed, or at least, you didn’t. you too discovered that the district people were not at all like the animals your family made them out to be. they were humans, like yourself. of course, you had been wary when your parents made claims of the district people drinking blood and turning to means of savagery, but it had always lingered in the back of your mind. that was, until you met your tribute. the boy like quality of his aura diminished any doubt you had left of the children being bestial, replaced by guilt that you had ever felt that way in the first place.

     as his hands entwined with yours, you managed to slip your silver bracelet onto his wrist, something you had been waiting for the perfect time to do. treech looked at you with confusion. “it’s my good luck charm,” you explained, as he inspected the jewelry. “it may just be like a placebo effect or something, but it helps me feel better. i want you to have it. as a loan. you can return it to me once you win the games.” you claimed, ever so confident of your statement.

     “you’re all i’m going to think about in there.” treech admitted. in that moment, your temptations overcame you, and you gave into the desire to kiss the boy. sure, it was rather uncomfortable for the both of you, necks strained as you both tried to reach the other through the bars, but none of that mattered the moment his lips met yours. the feeling alone sent sparks through your body. you felt reenergized, now more than ever as his kiss breathed new purpose into you. when he pulled away, you were left hungry for more.

     “we can pick this back up after the games,” treech promised you, giving you one last knowing glance before the two of you parted ways. the games would commence, but underneath all of your anxiousness, a flicker of hope had sparked.