Coryo X Reader - Tumblr Posts

thinking about bestfriend!coryo who you trust more than anyone else, so when he starts getting touchier, you think nothing of it. a lot of friends are like that and he starts small. holding your hand, thumb brushing soothing circles over your knuckles. keeping an assuring hand on the small of your back as you walk through crowded halls or during formal events. you somehow miss the way that he always shows up just as some guy is getting too close to you, never noticing the glare directed at the intruders as his fingers find yours.

then he's coming over to study and the two of you lose track of time. so you can't send him home, not with how harsh winter nights in the capitol can be.

so you invite him to stay over. you're willing to wake up the maid to set up a guest room, but it's so late and she's been asleep for hours. and your father's out of town as usual, away on business in the districts, and your mother just recently left to join him. so there's no one there to hold the two of you to social propriety.

so why not let him stay in your room? just this once. it's not like he's some random boy, he's your coryo. it's also cold, your room being on the far end of your family's estate where the central heating can't ever manage to work consistently, so it's practical. you can't find anything wrong in the way his side presses into yours beneath plush sheets.

before you know it, he's finding excuses to come over and staying so late that it's just easier for him to stay over at least once a week.

and the longer this goes on, the easier it is to not read into more and more. a hand just above your knee while you're both sitting in the library, his foot absentmindedly pushing against yours while you're both reading, the rare brush of his lips against the back of your palm or your shoulder when you're are alone. how can any of that be weird or too much when the two of you are used to falling asleep while holding onto each other?

you get so used to it that it's instinct to welcome anything involving him. if coryo's placing an arm around your shoulder, you relax into his side. if his fingers are trailing patterns against your arm, you don't move. if he's pulling you closer while half asleep, you smooth circles against his back until his breathing evens. he's your best friend, it's the least you can do and it's not like the displays of affection bother you.

it becomes so habitual to just go along with it because it's coryo, who'd never do anything to hurt you or make you uncomfortable, that you don't even react when he finds you at some capitol party hosted by your parents, stone faced as he grabs your arm. you're bubbly, ready to introduce him to the son of one of your father's co-workers that he can barley bring himself to look at.

he mumbles the faintest greeting before pulling you away. that's what you react to, being dragged harshly through a room full of people. coryo's so in his head that all he gets from your reaction is that you're pushing him away for the first time ever after spending most of the night talking to some guy that's everything he's insecure about.

he doesn't let go of you until you're in a hall closet. before you can ask what's gotten into him, he's closing the distance between you, pressing his lips against yours to prove that he can. that you'll let him.

you've spent so long letting coryo set the pace for everything that you kiss him back before you can think. eventually your mind catches up and you're pulling back enough to look him in the eye. all it takes is the slightest nod of his head and you're leaning back in because he's your coryo and he's always known where to go with things.

----

----

more bestfriend! coryo 

been obsessed with coryo after watching tbosas 😭 please write more of bestfriend!coryo <3

so so adorable 💋 i love u tehe

me gasping like in that tiktok sound: oh my goodness i love this question!!!

in all seriousness i have so many more thoughts on this dynamic omg

----

thinking about bestfriend!coryo who knows your parents love him, and, more importantly, he knows how to use that to his advantage.

it's no accident, he's put in meticulous effort in making sure that they not only approve of the friendship, but that he's their favorite friend of yours. when it comes to a family as prominent and wealthy as yours, parental approval goes a long way, especially with how regularly your parents leave town for business.

your father's admiration isn't an easy thing to win, but coriolanus is no stranger to uphill battles, and you're worth it. with the way that you look at him, how could you not be?

so he puts in the work: being the perfect student in classes taught by known friends of your father, wearing his best clothing and practicing old capitol etiquette his grandma'am was more than happy to review with him before family dinners that you invited him to, and making sure to keep proper distance between the two of you whenever your parents are around, no matter how difficult it is for him to remember to not hold your hand.

the hardest part is the fact that most of your father's intimidation comes from the fact that he's the exact kind of man coryo wants to be. powerful, respected, and in a position to never worry about finances or status. but he keeps at it, taking more care than usual to make sure that the signs of poverty are never visible in front of your parents.

even if that means purposefully leaving leftovers of the best food he's eaten in years on his plate so that no one will think he's starving. even if you give him a look that only he can feel the strangeness of because even though you've never spoken of his financial status, you can tell that he's not as well off as everyone thinks. that's the only thing about you that digs beneath his skin--you can always tell.

he's unsure if his efforts are working because of your father's constantly stoic disposition even though you assure him that that's your father when he's relaxed.

but then one day, he's over on your father's last night at home before returning to the districts to oversee some business, and your father asks to speak with him in private. you're instantly snapping your head up from your textbook, wanting to make sure that your father won't say anything embarrassing or rude.

he's scared off other friends in the past and even though it hurts, you never fight back too much because your father isn't an easy man to talk back to. but this is where you draw the line. you're not going to lose your coryo.

coryo feels something in his stomach knot, especially at that bewildered look behind your eye, but he's not about to be openly intimidated, so he assures you that he's fine. when you push, asking what topic could possibly involve just coryo and him and be that private, your father says that it's just business from man to man.

coryo has to force down a smile because he knows he'll be hearing no end of it from you as soon as the two of you are alone together. then he starts to think that this might be it. maybe your father has found out about his true financial status or dean highbottom has finally gotten to him and he's about to be banned from seeing you.

he forces down his anxiety and follows your father into the hall. your father's quick to the point, letting him know that he's leaving for another long stretch of time and that your mother's social and professional engagements mean that you'll be alone often. he closes the statement by asking coriolanus to look after you until he returns.

the realization that coriolanus has made it hits him at the same time as the relief and for a second all he can do is stare. then his senses return to him and he's swearing to your father that he'll take such good care of you, your father will have nothing to worry about. then your father's clasping his shoulder and offering him a gruff but oddly genuine thank you, son before telling him to get back to your room before you get paranoid.

it's an odd way to end the moment, but coryo's so busy trying to convince himself to not mentally plan out your wedding (because let's be honest, that's a level of trust from someone like your father might as well be a pre-engagement) that he doesn't think of it.

when he gets back to your room, you ask as casually as you can manage what your father wanted. after telling you that your father just wants to make sure that you're looked after while he's away, coryo expects you to be happy. but instead of reacting positively, you just sort of nod and mumble something polite before attempting to go back to studying.

something in his chest hardens. he's your best friend, who you spend as much time as socially acceptable with, and you two are being given the perfect excuse to be around each other more and you're not happy.

he immediately pushes and you reluctantly tell him that this has to mean that he's in with your father. another thing that coryo thinks you should be thrilled about. the more your father approves, the closer the two of you can be. he's accusing you of being sick of him, of trying to get rid of him, of no longer wanting to be best friends with him.

that has you scrambling to defend yourself. there's little you consider more important than your friendship with him. it's the only bond you fully trust.

so you tell him that your real concern is that your father never gets along with your friends that way, and that the only similar reference point you have is the way he talks to people like him.

you then tell him that the people in your father's social circle aren't like coryo. at the very least, not your coryo, who's never harsh with you and would rather spend parties sitting with you than sharing cruel opinions to impress other men.

all coriolanus hears is that you don't see him the way you see the actually important men. the hurt behind his eyes has you moving to stand and reaching for him. he lets you take his hand but doesn't react, so you explain it as transparently as possible. people that your father likes are mean, and you don't want to lose him to that.

there's something about the way you say it, all round eyes and genuine worry. it reminds him too much of tigris, of the newfound hint of tension in their relationship that's become more prevalent. she's constantly reminding him of what his father's success turned him into.

coryo's pulling you into a hug, whispering promises that you could never lose him. you're hugging him back tightly, hand smoothing circles against his back.

he realizes he means what he's saying. he can achieve the prominence he wants without alienating you. there's a way to be stern with the world and just coryo to you. and even if his edges become a little sharper, he'll keep that away from you and you'll understand.

you may criticize some of your father's views and actions, but you do love him. coryo sees it in the way that you constantly strive for his approval, he sees it in the way your face lights up when he's home. if you can love your father through your disagreements, you can love him as well. he'll make sure of it.

feeling better, he starts semi-playfully chiding you for even thinking that anything could take you away from him. that you should know better than to not see this as yet another thing he's doing for you, for your friendship.

you don't want to admit it, but you're feeling a little bad for reacting like that. after all, coryo was so excited to tell you and you know your father's capable of scaring people out of your life. at least this means that nothing's going to get in between the two of you.

coryo recognizes your slight pout and the apologetic line between your eyebrows. the two of you so rarely argue that even a hint of conflict has you willing to do anything to make things feel normal again.

so he lets himself play into his hurt. you're quick to pick up on it, holding onto him a little tighter. the two of you stay like that for awhile until you break the silence, saying that you're happy that he has an excuse to be around more.

eventually the two of you end up sitting on your bed, both of you silently agreeing that you've done enough homework. instead you focus on reassuring him, holding his hand between both of yours, pressing the occasional chaste kiss against his knuckles and resting your head against his shoulder until he has to go home.

after your father leaves, coryo takes his promise to look after you seriously. he's already in the habit of walking you home after school every day, but he start staying over after every day. the lack of authority figures around makes it a little easier to accept the after school snacks your maid always prepares and sometimes he even lets you send some home with him.

his grandma'am's over the moon when he starts accepting invitations to school social events that he honestly considers painful because he's escorting you. she's convinced that the two of you are getting married and with your family's status and the snow name, there's no door the two of you won't be able to unlock. even though you're still just friends, he rarely reminds her. it's for her own sake, he tells himself, it makes her happy.

the promise to your father also makes him bolder. he feels more assured, more justified in his disapproval of those that show a little too much interest in you.

you still don't notice the way his jaw tightens when some unaware guy gets too close, or think anything of the way that it almost always leads to him grabbing your hand.

he also stays over more, sometimes leaving for a few hours in the late afternoons so your maid doesn't think anything's going on. your family's estate is so large it's easy enough to get him in and out through a secondary exit.

the two of you fall into such a good routine that when your parents do get back, they start trusting coryo even more. your father asks if he can take you to certain social events that normally you wouldn't be allowed to attend and your strict weekday curfew becomes more of a suggestion when he's around.

"Insatiable" - Politician!Coriolanus Snow x Bimbo Wife!Reader

Part 2 HERE.

a/n: a birthday gift to my beloved @hopelesswritergall 🩷

Summary: Coryo doesn't like it when people look at what's his.

Word Count: 2,500

Rating: 18+, MDNI

TW: afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, daddy kink, semi public sex, shoe riding, oral m receiving, deep throating, dacryphilia, choking, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, biting

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Hunger Games/Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

No matter how one feels about Coriolanus Snow, he has one thing to his credit that no one can ever take away from him.

His devotion to his wife.

He’s cold, calculating, and the exact opposite of you, the sweet, bubbly young woman who has no problem capturing the hearts of everyone she meets. You’ve lived in the Capitol all your life, coming from an affluent family - one of the richest in the city in fact, spoiled rotten by your parents. Coryo knew from the moment he saw you, at the tender age of seven years old, that he needed to have you. And eventually, he made it happen. You became his adoring girlfriend, all throughout your years at the Academy and University, his staunchest supporter day in and day out. And, after graduating, he asked you to marry him, which you eagerly accepted.

The two of you haven’t been married for very long when Coryo is appointed to the position of Minister of War, inserting himself as President Ravinstill’s right hand man. A lavish ball is to be held in his honor at the President’s residence, indicating the fact that he has truly arrived in high society. Coryo sighs, checking his watch, calling out to you that the limo has been pulled out and the two of you are going to be late if you don’t leave soon. Knowing you, you’re probably busy dolling yourself up, the thought making him smile. He hears you call out that you’ll be down in a moment, glancing up when you clear your throat.

His jaw drops when he sees you, dressed in a strapless baby pink gown, paired with a pink fur stole and impossibly high stilettos, again, pink of course. You look divine, he muses, watching you make your way down the stairs, the picture of beauty and femininity. He takes you into his arms the moment you reach the bottom floor.

“You look beautiful, my love,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to your jaw, “Absolutely beautiful.” His gaze falls to the hollow of your throat, eyes lighting up as he remembers something unknown to you, “Close your eyes, baby.”

You acquiesce immediately, long lashes fluttering shut as you wait for him to tell you to open them again. You feel him lead you to the mirror in your entrance foyer, his hands deftly fastening something around your neck before he tells you to open your eyes. You gasp at what you see - a beautiful silver necklace, inlaid with pink diamonds and fine crystals. You trace the extravagant piece with your fingertips.

“Oh, Coryo, it’s beautiful!”

He rests his chin on your shoulder, arms wrapped around you, whispering, “Everyone’s eyes will be on us tonight, my love. Let’s give them something to stare at.”

You smile at him, giggling softly as his hands move to squeeze your hips, lingering near your ass, “Okay, we should go, I guess?”

He nods, taking your arm, but not before presenting you with a white rose to place on your dress, making you smile. Coryo opens the door to the limo for you, ever the perfect gentleman, admiring the way your dress hugs your plump little ass as you climb inside, him coming in after you. The lights of the Capitol pass you by as your chauffeur takes you to the President’s residence, but the only thing you can think about is the feeling of Coryo’s hand, moving up your thigh, dangerously close to where he wishes to touch you the most. You give him a pout, shaking your head, stopping the path of his hand.

“Nope.”

He looks at you, surprised, “But, darling-”

“Last time we did this, all the press talked about for a month were the hickeys you left on my neck!”

He smirks at how adorable you look when you try to stand your ground and say no to him, squeezing your thigh, “Maybe we can make headlines again…”

“Coryo,” you whine, making him snicker, “We said no more limo quickies!”

“Come on,” he teases, “Let me have a little fun before I have to shake hands with all these assholes.”

He loves how innocent you act, squirming when his fingers ghost along your core. You’re so sweet, so pretty and adorable on the outside. But he knows you like it just as filthy and nasty as he does. You shake your head again.

“Nuh uh. I’m showing up looking perfect. No messed up hair. No rips in my dress. No hickeys.”

Coryo grumbles to himself, crossing his arms and pulling away from you. He leans back in his seat, thinking to himself that he’s going to get at what’s underneath that dress before the night is over, one way or another. You look too damn good for him to resist. And tonight’s supposed to be a celebration for him after all. He deserves this. He deserves everything you can give.

It’s not your first time here, but when you pull into the driveway of the President’s residence, you are once again struck by the sheer opulence of the place. You’ve grown up in the lap of luxury, sure, but this is another level. Your high heels click along the marble floor as an aide takes your stole and you and Coryo are led to the event hall, already filled with guests and journalists, and of course, President Ravinstill himself, along with the rest of the cabinet. You stand at his side, playing the part of the adoring trophy wife to perfection. He keeps his hand on your lower back, loving the feeling of your soft body against him as the two of you meet and greet everyone who is there in his honor. You charm everyone you meet, but none more so than the President.

Coryo hates it. How the dirty old geezer keeps eyeing you up and down, his gaze lingering on your cleavage, the curve of your hips, your bare shoulders. He wishes he could wring the old bastard’s neck, his jaw ticking as you do your best not to cringe when the man all but drags you to the dance floor, his paws all over you. How fucking dare he? You belong to Coryo. No one else. Only him. The President be damned. He can tell how uncomfortable you are, the tiny amount of fear in your eyes as the man continues to flirt with you. No one else can tell, but Coryo can. He’s always been able to read you like an open book. Yet, for his sake, you keep up appearances and continue the dance, only to be whisked away by your husband the moment it’s over.

He drags you to the nearest bathroom, locking the door behind you before rounding on you. You look up at him, brow furrowed in that way he’s always found so goddamn adorable.

“Coryo, what’re you doing-”

You gasp as his hand moves to your neck, just above where your necklace rests. He grips your throat, just enough to restrict your airflow, holding you in place. You can feel his cock throbbing against your thigh as he presses himself up against you. His voice is a low snarl as he finally speaks.

“Mine. No one looks at my wife like that.”

You whine softly, his thumb grazing against the hollow of your throat. You rub your thighs together, desperate for friction as you nod and mumble an affirmative, earning a smirk from your husband, his eyes blown so wide with lust that the blue of his irises is almost completely black.

“That’s a good girl.”

You remain silent as he turns you around, both of you facing the mirror. You feel his fingers tracing your shoulder blades down to the top of your dress, feeling him undo the clasp that holds it together. You allow it to fall to the floor, stepping out of it and turning to face him, gazing up at him. You chose to forego wearing a bra or panties tonight, not wanting to ruin the look of your dress, something that Coryo is endlessly grateful for. You look so perfect standing in front of him, wearing nothing but your high heels and the jewels he gifted you. His breathing grows heavier as he admires every inch of your body, his eyes roving over you ravenously.

Before he can even ask, you sink down to your knees, looking up at him through your lashes. You move to mouth at his cock over the fabric of his dress pants, giggling at the groan he lets out. Coryo moves to undo his belt and pants quickly, freeing his cock from its confines, watching as you take him between your pink lipstick-stained lips, eyes on him all the while. His hand moves into your hair, watching with delight as you move to grind yourself against his dress shoes as you suck him off, caressing his balls while he fucks your mouth. You moan against him, eyes filling with tears when he pushes himself far enough down your throat that you gag. But he knows you’ll tell him to stop if need be. You just gaze up at him with those watery eyes, holding your breath until he finally pulls out of your mouth, lifting you up onto the sink counter.

“Someone could see,” you giggle breathlessly as he lines himself up along your cunt, running the fat head of his cock against you, slapping it against your clit, reveling in the little whimper you let out.

“Let them,” he rasps as he pushes inside you with one fluid thrust, moaning at how wet and warm your sweet little pussy feels around him as he splits you open, “Let them all see and never forget who you belong to.”

His gaze falls to the jewels on your neck, the ones he gave you, as you breathe, “I belong to you, Daddy.”

Coryo chuckles darkly, lifting your thighs to wrap around his waist, “That’s right, baby. You belong to Daddy. And Daddy’s going to take what’s his.”

He loves the feeling of your stilettos digging into his muscular back as he begins pistoning his hips against yours, the sound of your whimpers filling him with a perverse pleasure he can’t even begin to describe. He’s wanted you all fucking day, and you’ve made him wait. So now? He’s going to take what he wants without any mercy. Your head falls back against the mirror as he ruts against you furiously, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the large bathroom.

“Going to fill this pretty little pussy up,” he hisses, “Watch my cum leak out of you. Going to fuck you so hard you’re going to feel me all week.”

“Yes, Daddy, fuck,” you manage to choke out, heels digging harder into his back, spurring him on to slot his hips against you even faster, harder, the head of his cock rubbing up against your sweet spot, making you whine pathetically, “Fuck, yes, Daddy, right there, oh my God!”

One of his hands moves to your throat again, eyes locked on yours as he squeezes slightly, fucking into you with abandon, knowing that it’s entirely possible you can be heard back at the party. But he wants them to hear the noises his pretty baby makes. Noises that only he can get you to make. Your tits bounce with each snap of his hips, making him smirk as he thinks to himself how pretty they’ll look when he knocks you up, all full, his lips wrapped around them, fuck, he can hardly contain himself. He’s going to breed you, his pretty little wife who he’s fucked so stupid all she can do is gaze up at him with parted lips, gasping for breath.

He lets out a low groan as you squeeze around him, squealing his name, spilling himself deep inside you mere moments later, his hot spend coating your walls, making you moan softly.

You stay like that, eyes locked on each other for a long moment, before you hear someone knock, asking if the bathroom’s occupied. Coryo quickly helps you off of the counter, back into your dress, both of you fixing yourselves up to make it seem like nothing happened. That’s when you see it.

You hadn’t even noticed him kissing your neck while the two of you were fucking, too blissed out by the feeling of being stretched open on his cock, but there it is.

“I look like I got mauled by a muttation!” You whine, giving him a pitiful look, “Coryo!”

He chuckles, kissing your neck right over the hickey, “You look like your daddy took what’s his.”

You giggle, nuzzling up against him as he leads you out of the bathroom, knowing eyes following the pair of you as you question, “How long till we can go home?”

Coryo presses a kiss to your temple, “Let’s just say a few more hello’s and then we can head back for round two.”

You nod, smiling to yourself happily.

As the night winds down and you get into the limo, you seat yourself in Coryo’s lap, sighing, burying your face in the crook of his neck as his arms wrap around you, “You should be President.” You giggle, “Then people will be too afraid to look at me or dance with me.”

Coryo arches a brow, his hands moving to your ass, squeezing your supple flesh, “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby? You’d make an adorable First Lady.” You nod and yawn softly, nuzzling up against him, prompting him to ask, his voice a bit more gentle now, “You sleepy, little one?”

You nod, eyes fluttering shut, “Mhm.”

“Then close your eyes and sleep,” he coos, stroking your face with the back of his hand, affectionate evident in his gaze, “Daddy has you.”

“Wake me up when we get home?” You request, “You promised round two.”

He chuckles, nodding at your words before pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “I did promise that, didn’t I?”

“Uh huh. And since you’re a big fancy government man now, you have to keep your promises,” you say, your voice so adorably innocent that it makes his chest ache, “It’s illegal if you don’t.”

Coryo laughs, kissing your cheek, letting his lips linger against your skin, “I’ll always deliver on my promises to you, baby. Don’t wanna risk getting arrested,” he jokes, loving the soft little laugh you let out.

“Love you, Coryo,” you mumble as you drift off, “Congrats, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

He holds you tight, gazing at you with all the love he possesses. The subtle rise and fall of your chest fills him with excitement as he thinks of what’s to come when you get home, but he can’t stop thinking about what you said.

That he should be President. That no one would dare look at you if he were.

A smirk crosses his lips.

“I love you too, baby.”

sugardaddy!coryo getting turned on after seeing sugarbaby!reader in pink lingerie doing house chores while the maids were off...

coriolanus frantically pushed his cock in and out of y/n's wetness as she pushed herself back to him with moans and groans echoed around the kitchen, their skin getting sweatier and their clothes damp from the activity they've been up to.

"fuck", coriolanus groaned as his hands dug into y/n's hips, his eyes laser focused on y/n's back facing him.

he starts picking up his pace as he pulled back and slammed into y/n's pussy repeatedly, getting rougher and harder with each thrust.

"so good, coryo", y/n moaned as she squeezed her eyes shut and worked her own pace within the pace coriolanus has set for them, her hands interlocking with his from behind her.

the air becomes more and more suffocating as the tension rises from their actions and the sweat dripping down his back and her body keep on flowing, their pornographic moans still echoing, the sound even getting louder.

"just like that, sweetheart", he further grunted as his eyes went to the place where they were connected, the sight making him even more turned on as he watched her pussy swallow his aching, hard cock. his hands then started to trail all over your body, your tits.. your hips.. your ass.. ugh he was so in love with you, he knew you wouldn't be just a sugar baby to him. you were making him want more.

"oh my god, coriolanus.." y/n moaned loudly as she threw her head back in ecstasy, her orgasm building rapidly as she enjoyed herself on his cock.

"coryo", she panted harshly, "i'm gonna come!" she exclaimed as she continued her ministrations on his cock, her desire to quickly chase her high making her more desperate.

coriolanus's hands went up to her hair as he gripped it harshly, pulling her up to his chest before groaning out hoarsely, "that's right, baby. come for me", he proclaimed as he trailed kisses around her neck and her collarbone towards her shoulder.

y/n's mouth opened into a silent scream as she reached her peak, loud proclamations of coriolanus's name leaving my lips in a whisper of love only recognized between them. coriolanus also joined in right after her, groaning as his seed spilled into her extremely soaked center, which was now covered in his pearly, white cum.

coriolanus panted as he breathed harshly against y/n's back before gently pulling out of her, his cum immediately spilling out of her sex as he turned her around before giving her a kiss and whispering a faint, "i love you".

Sweet Like Sugar

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

summary | In which you’re Coryo’s sugar baby

warnings | smut, sugar daddy!coryo, slight public sex

this is an eighteen plus fic. minors do not enter

divider by @princessbellecerise

You’re not sure what to say at first when Coryo proposes this idea to you, but you have to say that you’re shocked

You’re nothing more than a district girl, having been raised in not quite poverty but not abundance either

You’ve never had anything other than the bare minimum, so when Snow offers to give you the world and to take care of your family as well?

Well, it’s obvious what you choose

Quickly, you end up being transported from your district to the Capitol in no time. While your family is given a high rise apartment and grocery deliveries every month, you’re given your own space; a house not too far from his own mansion

Snow likes to keep you close, as he does with all of his prized possessions

And first things first, you’re spoiled

There’s no one in Panem that has more than you, no one that has more jewels, clothes, makeup, etc. Not even Coriolanus himself

He takes such good care of you, making sure that you want for nothing and that you have everything you need

He’s surprisingly generous; but you both know that it doesn’t come without a cost

The world outside of the capitol is a harsh one; one that you desperately don’t want to experience again. You’ve seen people starving to death or being maimed by wild animals in your district and you do not wish to live that kind of life. You’re content, comfortable with how you live so any price he states, you pay

Usually it comes in the form of Coryo being on top of you, a hand around your pretty little neck while he fucks you on his desk

Or, sometimes it’s in his room, with your face stuffed into his luxurious pillows as he fucks you from behind

One way or another, he uses you like you use him. Whenever and however he pleases

You don’t mind of course, loving the way you’re bouncing on his cock one minute and then the next he’s buying you a diamond necklace

He likes for you to get dolled up for him, so he can show you off and make everyone around him jealous

He sees the way they look at you, and the way other men and even women envy him. He knows that they’d give to have you but they can’t. They can’t afford you

Sugar daddy!Coryo that always makes you call him ‘sir.’ He tell you that it’s the proper way to address him as he is the president, but really he just likes the way it sounds coming from your pretty little lips

Often times, he’ll call you nicknames such as ‘Doll,’ or ‘Pretty Girl’

They’re fitting seeing as you’re always dressed up, whether that be in fancy dresses or silk night gowns that he’s specifically picked out for you to wear

Sugar daddy!Coryo that takes you out for fancy dinners, only to end up fucking you in the bathroom like he’s a commoner. He always hates when he looses his self control like that but fuck—sometimes you just look so good that he can’t help but to stoop to that level

Sugar daddy!Coryo that kisses you desperately in some random bathroom stall, that has you pressed up against him and can’t stop rambling about how hard he is

Coryo that has you stepping out of that expensive dress in no time, even tearing it a little so he can reveal your pretty cunt

You’re always wet for him, always so eager and that’s what Coryo loves

He loves the feeling of you wrapped around him, moaning his name and begging him to let you cum

Of course, before it even reaches that point, he also has you on your knees, sucking him off to try and relive some of his desperation

Even after everything, Coryo likes to think that he’s a gentleman, so of course he lays his jacket on the floor so your knees won’t be hurting

It’s the least he can do because fuck—you always have him cumming in no time, and again once he’s fucking into your tight cunt

He never cums inside of you, always on your tits or in your mouth

He just loves the way that you look up at him, pretty face coated with his seed. He always take a few seconds to admire you before cleaning you up, making sure you’re presentable once again before finally settling down at your table, thirty minutes later

And of course, before he takes you home for the night, he also makes sure to fuck you one last time in his fancy limousine, windows fogging up and all of Panem having no clue what’s happening behind those tinted windows

[guys its the prologue, i did it so fast! also if you don't know what a bard is, they're poets from medieval times who sang for the king and/or queen]

You Can't, You Can't Catch me Now I'm coming like storm into your town

Part I/Part 2/Part 3/

Masterlist

[ mentor!coriolanus snow x time-traveled hg-era, district 9 tribute!reader x toxic! finnick odair(in the peacekeeper era)]

Warning: violence, serious injury, death, physical assult, gun and knife violence, possibly non-con...maybe.

Summary: You are a rebel, the last chance of the rebellion against President Snow. You're told to go on one last mission to kill the man who massacred Panem. It took you years to understand your mission when you became [name] Lily Baird, starting from the age of five till before the reaping day of the 10th Hunger Games.

The day you began your plan to destroy President Snow before he became the villain he was meant to become.

'Both sisters, Lucy Gray and [Name] Lily Baird are a part of the Covey, and though they have been chosen as tribute for both District 12 and 9 because of our own mistakes, we hope they will stay safe.'

You knew about [Name] Lily Baird, named after her because your mother was inspired by her fiery personality and strength, but now you realize that you were transported to a time before the Baird sisters died, one of sickness and one because of Coriolanus Snow himself.

'I will kill you, President Coriolanus Snow.'

‘Remember what he has done to your family, [Name]. Snow is nothing but a manipulator.’

You laughed before grinning over to Haymitch as he sent you a worried glance.

‘Well, I better remember this. The only time Haymitch Abernathy is serious and not seriously drunk.’

He grinned, a wide smile covering his face.

‘Take a video! Then you could see it and I could prove that I can be serious!’

You both laughed before sighing as Haymitch glanced at you sadly.

‘Believe in me, [Name], I’ve heard about women who were sadly obsessed with him. I just don’t want you to get hurt. Kill him, fall in love with a man you’re destined for, and live a happy life with no Snow in your way.’

You shook your head, Snow couldn’t be that handsome and since you know what he will do, you’re strong enough to fight that feeling.

‘I promise.’

They led you to the table, letting you bask in the warmth of the heater in front of you since you had been outside in the cold.

Katniss, Peeta, hell even Gale had said goodbye to you.

It made you feel…like…people cared…for you…

But the person you actually wanted there...refused to talk before you-the last hope-left.

Before the Covey had left for District 12, a woman named [Name] Lily Baird had gained a deadly virus. In the life where you had lived, she died the week of the reaping day and wasn’t chosen as tribute for District 9, but this time, you will be alive and manage to kill the man who ruined your life.

You will die, President Coriolanus Snow.

*cough* covid *cough*

You Can't, You Can't Catch me Now I'm coming like storm into your town

Part 1/Part 2/Part 3/

Masterlist

[Mentor!Coriolanus Snow x time-travel, hg-era, tribute!reader x toxic!Finnick Odair (in the Peacekeeper era)]

Warning: gore, blood, gun and knife violence, serious injury, death, physical assult, possibly non-con...as I said, maybe...

Summary: You are a rebel, the last chance of the rebellion against President Snow. You're told to go on one last mission to kill the man who massacred Panem. It took you years to understand your mission when you became [name] Lily Baird, starting from the age of five till before the reaping day of the 10th Hunger Games.

The day you began your plan to destroy President Snow before he became the villain he was meant to become.

'Both sisters, Lucy Gray and [Name] Lily Baird are a part of the Covey, and though they have been chosen as tribute for both District 12 and 9 because of our own mistakes, we hope they will stay safe.'

You knew about [Name] Lily Baird, named after her because your mother was inspired by her fiery personality and strength, but now you realize that you were transported to a time before the Baird sisters died, one of sickness and one because of Coriolanus Snow himself.

'I will kill you, President Coriolanus Snow.'

The reason you had volunteered to kill Snow was the debt your parents had owed him. They had cried and pleaded with the Peacekeepers to have some more time but they refused to react. Most District people had been forced into poverty and needed money and the Capitol granted them ways to gain some, but unfortunately, it was a loan that kept on growing. This started with President Snow’s reign and imposed slave labor on many of the people living in the poor Districts like 8, 9, 10, 11, and 12.

Your parents had died in those situations, your father being forced into the coal mines and your mother transported to District 8 to work on Peacekeeper uniforms. 

Both were killed by the very people they worked for. 

‘[Name]! Are you ok? The train was very harsh…’ A bright-eyed girl-Lucy Gray- bent over you to wake you up from your sleep. The sun shone through a slit in the ceiling, highlighting your bronze skin as you moved.

She grinned over to you while sitting on the floor, eyeing you as you moved. 

‘I loved your song, [Name] Lily, it was magical.’

You suddenly gasped, how did you…faint on stage?!

The small girl beside you nervously smiled before she extended a hand in your direction.

Lucy Gray motioned over to the extended hand and introduced you to her.

‘That’s Wovey from District 8, and I’m sure you know me!’ Her grin widened.

‘Of course I do, Lucy Gra-’

‘District 9 girl tribute, it’s time to meet your new mentor since Plinth’s son wanted your apparent sister, so your mentor is now Coriolanus Snow.’

Lucy Gray frowned, slight fear shining in her gaze. You bent your head to whisper in her ear a quote which should gift her strength.

‘Don't let them sense your fear or they will laugh with joy…’

And that is true defeat…

You had woken up in [Name] Lily Baird’s body 13 years ago, when the original [Name] Lily Baird was adopted by Lucy Gray's parents. It hadn’t taken you long to understand how to survive in the Covey after the...deaths...of your adoptive parents because you had lived in 12, the poorest District.

But you had never understood what happens in the Hunger Games besides the fact that most tributes wish they were dead.

‘Get out.’

A disgruntled Peacekeeper snatched you from the floor and pushed you toward a man with analyzing blue eyes. He smiled at you and offered a gorgeous white rose. 

‘So this is Coriolanus Snow…I take it back, Haymitch was right, he’s hot-no, focus, [Name]!

You grimaced at the rose and snatched it, scratching his hand lightly. His smile faltered a bit but once he noticed her flaming face his smile returned, brighter than before. 

‘So is this the only thing you do?’ You elaborated once you noticed his furrowed eyebrows. 

‘Bringing me roses, is that your only skill?’ He glanced at your hand gripping the rose before straightening to reply.

‘I’ll do my best to take care of you,’ You looked annoyed once you heard that and he noticed before you could even form a thought as if he wanted you to view him as a man worthy to be your mentor. ‘And I’ll make sure to keep you safe.’

You rolled your eyes before catching the movement of his hand gliding through the tresses of his platinum blond locks. 

‘I’m sure you will, Coriolanus Snow.’

Until I kill you.

‘Tigris,’ The blond-haired woman hummed, her adept fingers quickly stitching one of Grandma’am’s old shawls. ‘I think my tribute is in love with me.’

She paused, glancing at the blue-eyed man sitting beside her.

‘Why…why would you think that?’

‘She…trusts me, to keep her safe at least.’

Tigris chuckled, careful not to wake the Grandma’am at such late hours.

‘Do you want her to be in love with you? Because it seems like you have an infatuation with the singer.’

He focused on the scratch she’d marked him with.

‘Maybe…”

You Can't, You Can't Catch me Now I'm coming like storm into your town

Part 1/Part 2/Part 3/rest on Masterlist

[Mentor!Coriolanus Snow x time-travel, thg-era, tribute!reader x toxic!Finnick Odair (in the Peacekeeper era)]

Warning: gore, blood, gun and knife violence, serious injury, death, physical assult, possibly non-con...as I said, maybe...

Summary: You are a rebel, the last chance of the rebellion against President Snow. You're told to go on one last mission to kill the man who massacred Panem. It took you years to understand your mission when you became [name] Lily Baird, starting from the age of five till before the reaping day of the 10th Hunger Games.

The day you began your plan to destroy President Snow before he became the villain he was meant to become.

'Both sisters, Lucy Gray and [Name] Lily Baird are a part of the Covey, and though they have been chosen as tribute for both District 12 and 9 because of our own mistakes, we hope they will stay safe.'

You knew about [Name] Lily Baird, named after her because your mother was inspired by her fiery personality and strength, but now you realize that you were transported to a time before the Baird sisters died, one of sickness and one because of Coriolanus Snow himself.

'I will kill you, President Coriolanus Snow.'

[bolded and italics is parts straight from the book]

As the world died, you stood still, seeing nothing but the burnt hospital where Katniss announced the rebellion. 

A scream caught your eye and that’s when you noticed that Lucy was beside you, perfectly lost in the chaos, but the scream came from the boy you think could be changed into a person who loved Panem and wanted to do what was good for all citizens.

Struck with silence, you felt a slow rush of smoke flutter through you but it felt like your lover.

Your Finnick.

‘[Name] Lily…Please…’

Coriolanus didn’t have the strength left to scream and cry like the other people surrounding them but his voice sounded broken, so different from his determined echo singing the National Anthem of Panem.

You helped him, but you felt tense because of the look on his face.

It reminded you of, 

‘Finnick, my…F-’

‘Who’s Finnick?’

You ignored Coryo’s freezing tone to say your love’s name in a calm chant. You felt woozy like you were drunk on Posca.

‘Finnick Odair, from District 4…I loved him with my heart until I had to leave him to save the Districts from the President…’

Coryo hummed as you slowly passed out and lost his balance because of his injured arm.

'Don't worry, [Name]. Help is coming...' But the help was for him, and they bashed a gun into your stomach, forcing you to cough up blood. Unfortunately, He was dragged away by the medics, but he yelled your name as you were taken from him,

‘[Name]! Don’t hurt her! Please!’

they ignored him, and he had one thought in his mind before he fainted.

‘I’m glad you left him, he doesn’t deserve you, that poor District boy. [Name] Lily Baird, you are a diamond bought by the future President of Panem, Coriolanus Snow, from a poor beggar.'

Finnick Odair.

But never forget, your Coryo won't overlook that name until Odair dies.

He woke up on a pure white mattress with soft sheets thrown onto his lean frame. 

‘Hi, Coryo. It’s us.’

Tigris smiled at him, checking his body for injuries the doctors hadn’t seen. Coriolanus hissed as a wound on his back started to sting, but still, he formed a small grin and faced his cousin and Grandma’am.

‘Hey, you missed bomb time…’

Tigris chuckled before frowning at the bandages wrapped around him.

‘Turns out that’s worse,’ she mumbled, ‘Knowing that you were there and I wasn’t.’

Coriolanus’ gaze faltered before he could reassure her that he was glad she was far from the Arena.

‘I’m glad that I’m not alone, and I’m glad that you’re safe and sound.’ He whispered, finally glancing back toward the blond-haired woman.

Tigris’ eyes teared up before clearing her throat and motioning to his scars to ask about what happened.

‘[Name] saved me…But she was hurt in the process…’

Tigris laughed before she could stop herself.

‘Well aren’t I glad!’

Grandma’am didn’t quite believe him until he gave a quick timeline of events.

‘Well, that does show some character, she seems like she wants to be a sweet capital girl. I applaud her personality.’ 

It was high praise for a District girl coming from a capital lady.

Especially from the woman who believed that all District breeds should be maids.

His grandma’am eventually shuffled over to him again when he lied down and took in a large breath.

‘I wonder if Clemensia felt this way when she was bitten by Dr.Gaul’s snakes.’ Was what haunted his mind.

After a bit of questioning, Coriolanus finally dared to ask what had to [Name] Lily. Tigris shrugged and only said that she wasn’t on the list of dead tributes before they settled into a deep silence.

Sejanus was silent, sitting on his couch while the news of dead tributes played over and over again. The male tribute from District 12, both tributes from 1, the girl tribute from 2, and the male tribute from 9 had died. Luckily, neither of the Baird sisters had died, well, lucky for him and Coryo, he supposed.

‘Sejanus, eat something, you could have been seriously hurt!’ His ma yelled.

Sejanus hummed, but his gaze never moved from the television, watching a brave brown-haired girl running through the camera’s vision.

It was hours after Coriolanus had awoken, and Grandma’am was busy complaining about how proud the Districts should be while watching the bombing.

‘But they say hardly anyone there saw it, Grandma’am.’ Tigris snorted. ‘You know they despise watching it.’

‘It won’t take a while for them to find out.’ Grandma’am clarified. ‘It’s the type of story that catches fire.’

The world had caught fire before your eyes and all it reminded you of, just like during the bombing, was the speech Katniss yelled out to President Snow during the 75th Hunger Games.

‘You can torture us and bomb us and burn our districts to the ground. But do you see that? Fire is catching... And if we burn... you burn with us!’

‘[Name], are you sure you’re okay?’

You smiled at your sister but you knew that wouldn’t quell her worries at all.

‘I promise, I’m fine, I’m just a bit shaken up.’

Lucy Gray nodded before staring into the cold alley where they kept all of the tributes that hadn’t died.

‘I’m happy that you’re okay.’

‘I’m glad you’re okay too, Lucy…’ You mumbled before embracing her in a warm hug.

The doctor who had entered to check up on Coriolanus was coincidentally the doctor he’d seen after the snake attack, Dr.Wane.

He reassured the Snows that Coriolanus was fine and had a mild concussion but he would, unfortunately, have to stay at the Hospital for a few more days before he could go home. 

‘Wait!’ Coriolanus yelled. Dr.Wane turned back and nodded.

‘Do you know how my tribute is doing? Her hands were burned and she was choking on blood and smoke before I fainted.’

‘I wouldn’t know, but right now that shouldn’t be your concern, young man. You should focus on resting for now.’

Coriolanus wasn’t quite happy with that information but he obliged, his eyes weighing down on him before he finally passed out.

ugh should i kill finnick when he comes on, its like the Peacekeeper part but i gotta think about it now...

You Can't, You Can't Catch me Now

I'm coming like storm into your town

Part 1/Part 2/Part 3/rest on Masterlist

[Mentor!Coriolanus Snow x time-travel, thg-era, tribute!reader x toxic!Finnick Odair (in the Peacekeeper era)]

Warning: gore, blood, gun and knife violence, serious injury, death, physical assult, possibly non-con...as I said, maybe...

Summary: You are a rebel, the last chance of the rebellion against President Snow. You're told to go on one last mission to kill the man who massacred Panem. It took you years to understand your mission when you became [name] Lily Baird, starting from the age of five till before the reaping day of the 10th Hunger Games.

The day you began your plan to destroy President Snow before he became the villain he was meant to become.

'Both sisters, Lucy Gray and [Name] Lily Baird are a part of the Covey, and though they have been chosen as tribute for both District 12 and 9 because of our own mistakes, we hope they will stay safe.'

You knew about [Name] Lily Baird, named after her because your mother was inspired by her fiery personality and strength, but now you realize that you were transported to a time before the Baird sisters died, one of sickness and one because of Coriolanus Snow himself.

'I will kill you, President Coriolanus Snow.'

The list of dead tributes caught Sejanus’ eye. Of course, he had sat down in front of his television to see if the Baird sisters were there but it wouldn't hurt to look once more.

His amber eyes analyzed the rough paper stuck to the fountain, Tributes from 1, 2, and 6, were dead. [Name] Lily was the Tribute who survived from District 9, Sejanus was sure that when Coriolanus had heard that a Tribute from 9 had died he’d probably gotten a heart attack.

But if anything this is what that fucking deranged manic, Dr.Gaul, wanted. 

Quickly killing multiple Tributes and letting one escape was her MO. 

When Sejanus had gotten home, he proceeded to grab meatloaf sandwiches from his Ma that she’d made to give to Coryo before heading out again to visit the Hospital for the Capital people injured during the Arena Bombing. Ma asked why he was heading out again.

“Oh you know, Ma. I’m going to the Hospital to visit Coriolanus.”

She rolled her eyes before extending her arm to wave him away. “ You’re growing up to be just like your Pa, but don’t forget Coriolanus’ book bag, didn’t you grab it once you heard he was injured?”

Sejanus widened his eyes. He’d completely forgotten about the book bag! “ Ah, thanks Ma!” He waved before jogging down the stone steps. 

It was dark when Coriolanus finally was awoken after Sejanus’ visit. He had assumed it was a nurse but the ravaged face of Clemensia Dovecote. Once she screamed, the nurses picked her up to lock her in her room.

But it cursed his mind, and he could never forget her screams of anger and anguish until he died by an angry, cold, person he made in his image. Because he wouldn’t die without knowing that his wrath and revenge could be continued.

A week later, Coriolanus had walked up to you and said those exact words, searching for your distant comfort in place of his cousin or Grandma’am.

You gently hugged him as he slowly buried his head into your neck, thinking of what he’d meant.

‘ Oh, Katniss Everdeen, maybe you became President Snow while fighting against him…’

Hi! sorry for the short post today!

-wifeofsnowbaird

[if you wanna know who made the banners I tagged her on this series' masterlist and my pinned post and reblogged one of her posts!]

coriolanus who would hold your hand when you studied, keeping you focused.

coriolanus who would read you the words in your textbook so you didn’t have to read then take notes.

coriolanus who needed to eat disgusting food until you showed up and fed him before he got to school.

coriolanus who was top of all his classes and the most clever boy you ever met.

coriolanus who you had a crush on.

coriolanus who took you out to see the stars because he couldn’t afford anything else.

coriolanus who slept with a stuffie.

to…

coriolanus who ruled with an iron fist.

coriolanus who cheated in the hunger games then clawed his way back to the top.

coriolanus who came back not a boy, but an unrecognizable man.

coriolanus who became his father.

coriolanus who killed many.

coriolanus who used his power against others.

coriolanus who continued the very games that ruined him.

coriolanus who came back on top.

As If Destiny (part ten) 🌹

Part 9.5🌹

a/n: the fact that i can keep finding gifs of this fine fine man.

love to you and even more love to you.

warnings: it's the hunger games universe. you know what you are getting into.

⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆

3:02 A.M

3:03 A.M

3:04 A.M

Coriolanus Snow was immobile as he watched the time pass on the cracked clock along the wall. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight so he didn't even attempt it. Even as he closed his eyes due to the pounding migraine in his head, all he saw was you.

Your falling form, shaky hands, empty eyes. Silent mouth.

Not a single scream was heard from you when you got hit.

That was probably what haunted Snow the most. Your tragedy was silent. Life was slipping out of your being with no noise.

He sighed as he rubbed his eyes in frustration. He has been in the constant loop of falling into a rabbit hole of you, fighting to get out, then falling straight back in. This torture cycle has been going on for hours and wouldn't cease until he finally got to see you again.

When Coryo made it home, he fell straight into Tigris's arms. There was no need for him to explain what occurred as news spread like wildfire across the Capital. He always hated the speed of gossip across the city but was thankful for this one instance only because Tigris already knew what to do. She comforted her younger cousin and didn't pester him with questions but made sure he wasn't too lost in his head.

That's how they spent their entire evening until it hit midnight. The older Snow cousin could barely keep her eyes awake but swore she would stay by Coryo's side. Although, with enough reassurance that he would be fine and exhaustion overcoming her body, she finally relented to her small room.

While Coriolanus was glad Tigris was getting some well-earned sleep, he most definitely lied.

He was not fine.

3:11 A.M

He looked down at his desk where his own ideas for the Games lay. He had written them, revised, wrote some more, and revised even more. It was the only thing that got his mind off of your massacred form. If he edited anymore, he was sure to ruin the proposals.

The adolescent's blue eyes moved from the pages to stare out the window you loved so much. Those blossoming trees didn't sway as they usually did. Even they seemed disappointed at your disappearance.

While the flowering trees did remind him yet again of you, they also sprung an idea. It definitely wasn't the most intelligent idea and especially not the safest, but any reservations had to settle down as the Capital Zoo gates came into view. Why he was here? Even Coryo couldn't answer that but he figured it would be as good of a distraction as any.

The sweat piling on his palms seemed to be the only sign of reason within his being as he inched closer and closer. Not even twenty-four hours ago, a murder was attempted. On someone just like him. And someone got hurt. You got hurt.

He sighed as he was now only mere feet away from the gates. Coryo wondered if you would be upset at him being here. Would you think he is foolish or would you have faith in Lucy Gray?

There wasn't much lighting around the zoo but it wasn't necessary; Coriolanus could feel the eyes on him. The mentor could only pray that they were the brown eyes of the girl he was looking for.

"Lucy Gray?"

The hushed tone was hard to pick up on except if one was within a few meters of it. Whether the girl in question should be grateful she heard was still to be seen. Gently sliding Jessup's head off her shoulder, Lucy Gray creeped closer to the bars. Coriolanus waited a few moments before he opened his mouth to call out again. Though before any words were said, he was cut-off by a greeting from the singer herself.

"Coriolanus?"

He let out a breath when the girl presented herself, her appearance slightly shining under the dingy lighting. He brushed his hands through his now deflated curls. Lucy Gray waited patiently for him to form the words. Words he was unfamiliar with as he just spewed what was on his mind.

"I'm so sorry, I just- I couldn't sleep and thought you might be awake."

As soon as the words left his mouth, the blonde wished he could take them back. The reality of the situation hit him full force. Here he is interrupting what may be the last peaceful moments of this girl's life because he couldn't control his train of thought. He buried his face in his hands and stayed there until a small giggle was heard. He peered up to meet the soft smile of Lucy Gray.

"I thought mentors were supposed to take of us."

If it wasn't for her kind tone and sweet smile, Coriolanus would have been offended. He didn't know why he came to her, but a part of him trusted her. Or at least trusted she didn't have many people to tell.

His blue orbs watched her face deflate into one of worry as she walked closer.

"Is she okay?"

It was a quiet whisper burdened with concern. His trust was reaffirmed in Lucy Gray as he heard her concern for you. He nodded slowly while he opened his mouth to speak in a grave tone.

"She survived and will be released in a few hours. However, the cuts are aggressive "

Lucy Gray hung off of every word, genuinely concerned for your well-being. You were nothing but kind to her and Jessup. Not to mention you did try to help Brandy. The rest of the evening Lucy Gray kept on thinking about you and your actions.

Your kindness on the station, intimidating aura in the van, and quiet talk with Jessup in the zoo. The talk he didn't go much into detail about, still unsure of what to make of it. Lucy Gray didn't wish harm on anyone who has never personally harmed her and even though the redhead who mocked her own tribute was clearly cruel, she didn't believe she deserved death. When it all happened, the singer was shocked into stillness as she saw the murder attempt and was forced into movement when she saw your neck covered in blood.

After the incident and Brandy's corpse being carried out, the zoo was nearly empty of all visitors. The tributes mostly kept to themselves or their fellow district pair. Lucy Gray often thought of her family, the Covey, especially Maude Ivory. But it wasn't long before she once again thought over why you took the hit instead of the snarling girl.

The mentor didn't seem very happy with you and was insulting not only you, but someone clearly important to you. Lucy Gray has been around enough nasty folks to know that they always choose words carefully. Lucy Gray knew very little about you but even she could tell that whoever Otto was, he shouldn't have been mentioned.

The girl sighed herself as looked at the exhausted boy in front of her. The affection between you two was quite clear and it made her a bit more accepting of the Capital citizenship. If one can love another, they must have some sort of humanity.

"I can see why you love her."

Coriolanus Snow choked on his saliva upon hearing the words. His eyes were bright with fear and shock. The boy never even admitted that to himself and well he knew his feelings were strong, the word "love" was never used. Lucy Gray began internally panicking at seeing the boy's silence.

"You do love her right?"

Coryo's eyes scrunched slightly as he analyzed the soft tone used. Analyzed her question. In all his analysis, no answer provided itself.

"Is this what love feels like?"

He was eerily quiet; words spoken at a volume, it sounded like it would break. The question of her mentor made her relax and give a little laugh.

"Oh, you poor suffering soul!"

She teased lightly. Twelve hours ago, this situation wouldn't even be in either teenagers' wildest imagination. Yet here they stood, one lost in love-struck daze and the other in a satisfied companionship. Lucy Gray was behind bars, counting down the hours she had left in her life, but she wasn't too focused on that fact for the moment. The poster boy of the prestigious Capital stood completely vulnerable in front of her in the dead hours of the night.

These might be her last days of her young life, but Lucy Gray feels an odd sense of gratitude. She hates that she, along with the rest of the innocent tributes, are forced to massacre one another. Her blood boils at the thought that the Games are allowed and even encouraged. But she is grateful for Coriolanus.

Lucy Gray is still unsure why he came to her, but the action made her heart swell. Coriolanus didn't just see her as a tribute, or worse, just a pawn in the game to win the prize. She knew that was part of his motivations in his care for her, but in this quiet moment with no cameras, Coriolanus Snow sees her as a friend. A confidant in the silence of the city of whispers.

Her smile slightly deflated as she thought of her own run with love.

"You know, whatever happens in that arena, thank you. If for nothing more than showing me at least one man knows how to love in this world."

Coryo's stupor evaporated as the Reaping replayed in his head. Oh.

"That boy? He-"

"Didn't know how to love the girl who loved him. Got too greedy."

Lucy Gray's snarl was apparent as she thought over the boy and his affair who sent her here. Her heart was already broken, why did she also have it to be physically stabbed?

Coryo could start feeling his own anger building at the thought of Lucy Gray being hurt. She was incredibly sweet, even surrounded by her future killers. He didn't understand it, but it creates a feeling of protectiveness to surge through the curly head. At the human-to-human level, not mentor and tribute.

He wondered if he would be used to this protectiveness if his sister survived. His mother would love Lucy Gray, if nothing more than her charismatic personality.

"The girl who you sent the snake on?"

"Daughter of the mayor and the reason we are talking."

She sighed at the recollection that of all the people for Billy to break her heart with, it just had to be Mayfair.

The anger that was beginning to build up was now 100% ready to burst.

"What? She can't do that! The Reaping isn't for personal vendettas i-"

The words died on his tongue as the realization hit him aggressively.

Coriolanus was complaining about rules of sending innocent children into a blood bath. The hypocrisy of the Reaping being used for personal pleasure at others' pain is exactly what it was made for. The entirety of the Hunger Games was a sick lesson of victory in others' misery.

Lucy Gray watched the cogs turn in the blonde-haired head of the teenager across from her and was relieved to see the revelation of reality.

Her motivation for survival in the arena was already high so she can make it back to see the Covey again and watch out for Jessup. But another reason was added in those morning hours. Survive so she can take care of Coriolanus as he did for her. To ensure at least one love story ends happy.

The brunette tried to convince Coryo to go back home so many times throughout the hours he spent in front of the bars with her, but he refused. Even though he was mere feet from where he saw you collapse, his mind wasn't plagued by your unconscious eyes.

Instead, his lips kept on repeating the lively moments he shared with you to the curious Lucy Gray. He appreciated he got to brag about every little thing about you to someone who didn't have some other motive. Even with Tigris, she already knew every detail about you from the aforementioned bragging by her cousin, but she would still listen just to give him some comfort and a shoulder to lean on.

But Lucy Gray forced him to step out of his brooding and focus on that you were okay and made him more comfortable in the revelation of his love. Lucy Gray was thankful she didn't have to spend these days in the humiliating zoo as just an attraction or threat. Coriolanus made her still feel human and a friend. She knew how desperately he wanted to win and yet, not a word of strategy was mentioned. They had the meeting later in the day to discuss. Right now, they both just needed a friend.

⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆

After nearly running back to his decaying home upon seeing the sunlight appear, he changed in a flash. He got too lost into his youthful conversation with Lucy Gray that he nearly forgot of his responsibilities. One being not frightening Tigris at being gone for hours in the middle of the night.

Thankfully for him, Coryo made it through his bedroom door just as Tigris opened hers to get ready for the day. He got ready speedily and grabbed his proposals and neatly packed them away into his bag. Ensuring he had everything he needed, Coriolanus gave a quick kiss on the head to Tigris and sped towards the Capital hospital.

His stomach was grumbling heavily, and he could have benefited from grabbing a few leftover pieces from the breakfasts you always brought. Though he had to decide between sustenance and you.

Not a seconds hesitation.

Coriolanus walked through the pristine doors of the newly built hospital. The hospital was a part of the new reconstruction project for the Capital after the war. Life was finally getting back to normal.

With the infamous charming smile of his towards the receptionist, Coriolanus made his way through the sterile hallway. Upon reaching and subsequently opening the creaking door, Coryo was biting back a boyish laugh.

On the bed lay you, with your head was tilted on top of Arachne's as the forementioned girl curled into your side. Your eyes were awake but quite droopy as you attempted to fight off sleep. A fight you won swiftly as soon as you heard the voice you've been yearning to hear.

"Am I being replaced? Of all people Arachne? Didn't know you were into redheads, y/n."

His smirk was evident and more so as he walked over to your bedside. You turned your head to the left as you looked up to the tall boy with a soft smile playing on your lips.

"Can't be replaced if you were never in her place to begin with."

He mocked offense as Coryo retorted to your still sleepy voice.

"Are you upset that I gave you my bed instead of squishing us? I barely fit on my own, imagine the both of us!"

You already have imagined it actually. Multiple times.

Nothing graphic just a bit of snuggling and giving the smug blonde a good kick in the middle of the night while in deep dreams, of course.

"I just don't want you to be sleeping on the floor. It's cold, Coryo, and has to be awful for your back!"

Coryo knew you were right as the floor was extremely uncomfortable, but the feeling that you were mere arms width away gave him a level of comfort no mattress could provide. He only wished that you were in his arms rather than the distance of them.

"Such is the tragedy of being a gentleman."

He gave you a toothy grin as you laughed lightly, widening Coriolanus's smile even more. The young man got settled at the foot of your bed as he nodded questioningly towards the still sleeping Arachne.

You let out an amused laugh as your fingers began streaming through the now down red hair of the girl in question.

"Said she didn't want to leave me. I don't know why, but I'm not complaining. I've missed her and our friendship."

Coriolanus nodded along and gave no hint of what he was feeling inside. A feeling with the name of suspicion. He wasn't blind to her stares at you. They were icy and envious, or at least they pretended to be. One can't hide the longing for another, no matter how deep it's buried.

The blue stare of Coriolanus Snow moved across the room and landed upon the now crinkled parchment. He nodded in amazement with a proud smile.

"Gaul knows young promise, now doesn't she?"

You stretched forward just enough to smack his leg reprimandingly.

"Don't go getting a big head on me now, Coryo."

"Any bigger and we would have to calculate the surface area."

It seemed just a bit of rest was all that was needed for the notorious Arachne Crane snark to return. She quickly sat up, removed your hands gently, and patted herself up to perfection. As soon as she became presentable enough for public, a kind-looking nurse with honey eyes and light freckles entered.

Arachne froze for a second, fearing she was found out, though you had no fears. Due to her bright and rested attitude, the honey-eyed nurse was clearly working the day shift instead of the scoping night shifts. It only took a few moments and tests to reassure your release. You signed multiple papers that you didn't bother reading, and you were given the clear along with your still-stained academy uniform.

You fully intended on completing your mentor duties today and the following days but completely forgot about the state of your uniform. A quick scan to the clock showed that you didn't have time to go back to your apartment and get a clean spare. An apartment that you weren't even sure was yours anymore. It was most definitely not home.

However, your panicked thoughts must have been heard by your saving angel. An angel that came in the form of the familiar warm brown eyes and curly hair.

In his hands were a spare uniform for you (how he got it, you weren't going to waste the energy on questioning it) and a container filled with sweet treats sent from his ma clearly.

"Sejanus have I ever said how much I loved you?!"

He gave you a warm smile as he passed the clothes off and opened up the beautifully designed container. You quickly grabbed a few of your favorite sweet treats while the rest were offered to Coriolanus and a bit reluctantly, Arachne. The latter squinting at the treats in disgust. The food smelled delicious and looked even more delectable, but district hands still made them.

Though your clear enjoyment of the delicacies as well as the boys', who began quietly talking, Ara grabbed a small treat that has a red tint to it. The taste popped in her mouth and continued to as she fully enjoyed some of the best treats she has ever tried.

You laughed at her reaction and the flustered blush that appeared on the girl's cheeks caused a squint of distrust to frame Coriolanus's eyes and Sejanus's mouth to go agape.

"Since when did she sink her claws into y/n?"

Sejanus was concerned how you could so easily be friendly with the girl who was more than willing to let you die. At least in his eyes.

Coriolanus left the question out into the air as he focused on helping you out of bed, legs a bit shaky. He grabbed the rouge uniform and led you to the connected bathroom. A little interrogation was initiated as he tried to ensure your safety.

While you two were bickering back and forth about your ability to change on your own, an awkward silence firmly took place between Arachne and Sejanus. The brown-eyed boy unabashedly stared holes into the redheads face while she focused on your hospital gown-clad figure.

"Spread my thanks to your mother. She is a wonder with pastries."

Arachne's words were meek as she struggled to pull them out. Twenty-four hours ago, she would never have thought of complimenting district scum- no. Not district scum. District. Maybe scu- you wouldn't approve of that language. Arachne just got you back, she isn't going to lose you again.

⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆

A half-hour passes, and by then, you are fully dressed and walking up the stairs of the academy with Sejanus. Arachne had to rush back home to get her supplies and clean up while Coryo went to drop off both of your proposals to Dr. Gaul. Technically, proposals by three academy students, though you doubted Clemensia put a wink of effort. Especially in her state yesterday.

On a good day, she would be more than happy to let Coriolanus do all the work and take the credit. But in tears and wreck, she needed to leech to survive.

As you walked through the pristine institute, you heard the whispers and felt the hot gazes upon you. The patched-up wounds on your neck felt extra visible and painful as you weaved through the gawking crowds. They eventually settled as the guard dog of yours named Sejanus, gave them a stare to scare the teenagers into silence.

The pair of you moved into Heavensbee Hall, where multiple tables and chairs had been organized into a circular formation. On your way to the academy, Sejanus filled you in on today's events. An hour meeting with the tributes, a fifteen-minute tour of the arena following, and in the evening a presentation paired with an interview of each of the district tributes.

As soon as you stepped into the grand hall, you were enveloped by a pair of arms connected to a certain bead of raven hair.

"Clemmie!! I'm okay, don't worry!"

You were met with no verbal response but rather a rather harsh squeeze by the surprisingly strong girl.

"Okay, I'm not okay because you are actually crushing my body!!"

As you could finally breathe through your lungs, you quietly conversed with your worried friend. It was only after a few moments after that the tributes were brought in as if cattle; each in heavy chains that connected to their peers in front of them in the single file line.

The look in Clemensia's eyes was screaming at you to leave and protect yourself, but all it was met with was a tight-lipped smile. You were making your way to the designated desk for you and Jessup when your path was intercepted.

"Miss Vaun."

Dean Highbottom was not someone you wanted to deal with this early in the morning, especially when the only words coming out of his mouth were subtly crafted mocks and the only thing going in was morphling.

"Such a shame to hear of your incident."

Each word he uttered made you nauseous. His calculated tone was dripping with hidden motives. Casca Highbottom was playing games with you though you had no idea what they were nor why. Though a speculation was that it had something to do with a certain curly-haired blonde who was now walking in your direction with a scowl towards your dean.

"Ah, Mr. Snow, I was beginning to fear you had yet another show to present. It seems the mentors are more the spectacle than the tributes."

The smile Coriolanus gave the bitter man was tight, just like his patience. Dean Highbottom, satisfied with the emotion caused, called for all mentors to join their tributes at their tables as he addressed the room.

"In spite of yesterday’s tragic events, our president has decided that the Games must go on to show everyone the Capitol is unafraid of such acts of terror."

Your cheeks burned as you ducked your head while feeling Jessup's eyes stare at you. Well, everyone's eyes.

"To which end, Dr. Gaul wishes you to preview the arena this afternoon with your tributes. Later this evening, there will be a special televised presentation and interview of each tribute to our audience to get to know them."

You sighed slightly as it was clear that Dr. Gaul liked at least some of your ideas if she implemented the interview and some sort of presentation.

"You will have an hour to discuss strategy. You may begin."

You lifted your head back up to meet the dark brown eyes of Jessup Diggs. You smiled shyly, unsure of where to start. Though there was no need for worry as Jessup was the one to initiate the conversation.

"Those are some nasty cuts."

You, in stark contrast to the solemn room, laughed softly. The boy's tone wasn't harsh or arrogant at seeing your hurt, but rather blunt. It was better than hearing a voice filled with glee at seeing your scars.

"Well now we match, huh?"

You sat back in your chair, getting comfortable. You had an hour ahead of you and the discussion of strategy wasn't going to take long if Jessup was still insistent on not taking medicine. The dark-skinned boy matched your position while you prepared your thoughts.

"You sticking to no medicine?"

His eyes drew over your neck again, seeing how much it has healed due to the remedies. But you didn't have to be locked into an arena filled with killers. He got the bite due to his character and actions, that's how he wanted to die. Not because of scared teenagers who just wanted to go home to their mama.

His silence was an answer enough for you; an answer that didn't surprise you. Jessup was stubborn, and you would bet there were few topics he would be willing to change his mind on. Though, you could never have bet that his mind was starting to change in regards to the children of the Capitol. That not everyone was horrible.

"I can't get you out of the interviews or presentation, but you can keep silent. There is not much they can do to force you. However, if you have something you want to say, feel free."

You knew that his silence would ensure he would have no sponsors, but that didn't matter in his case. The district boy looked a bit taken aback by your last statement and what he could do with it.

"Anything? Isn't that a little dangerous?"

The brunette knew it wasn't dangerous for him as he was already sentenced to death, but what about you? He wasn't sure why he cared, but he did. You seem to try to save anyone you can, an odd trait for a Capitol resident, but true nonetheless. You didn't deserve to get hurt because of his rash actions.

"I can't control your actions, Jessup. You are your own person. Even while this whole situation doesn't have anything to do with you, there is still control you have."

He mulled over your words, and even though it sounded farfetched, it was true. Even a smile appeared on his face as he agreed: he did have control.

You were happy to see that smile and know that he recognized his freedom in the cage. The two of you were content as you sat back and turned simultaneously towards the other District 12 tribute and mentor pair.

Coriolanus and Lucy Gray were not the normal pair. Lucy Gray wasn't sitting quietly or glaring. Coriolanus wasn't sneering or arrogant. Their conversation, a wonder in itself, was mutual. Your heart pulled at the scene, wishing that it could be in different circumstances.

Your head turned back to look at your own tribute, whose head was still turned towards his friend. His eyes were covered in reminiscence and pleas. Pleas that she will survive. That is when an idea came to fruition.

"What if we made a deal?"

Jessup slowly turned his head towards you in apprehension and confusion. What more could you possibly expect from him?

"You do everything you can to stay in control in that arena. Fight off the disease as much as you can because your sanity will disappear. I've seen it firsthand; any piece of Jessup Diggs will be gone. You will become a danger to Lucy Gray. Don't let her eat or drink after you. You could spread it."

Jessup took in what you were saying and agreed but was still confused about what the deal was. What was in this for you?

"Take care of yourself and her in the arena and I will do my best outside of the arena to make sure Lucy Gray goes home."

His brown eyes squinted at you in wonder and uncertainty. You were sincere in your words, but Lucy Gray winning meant more than just her success, and Jessup knew that.

"Why? So your boyfriend can win and spend all the money he doesn't need on your Capitol luxury?"

Your previously relaxed facial expression melted into one of simmering anger. You thrashed your body forward and toned your voice down into a chilled whisper.

"One, he isn't my boyfriend. Two, looks can be deceiving. He desperately needs the money. I know it's hard to believe, but his family is starving, and his grandmother and cousin need him. That's why he works day and night, so don't you dare say he doesn't need the money. You don't know him."

Your tone was laced with venom, and Jessup quickly took the hint. His eyes raked over the fair-skinned boy, and he could see you were right.

He was tall, yes, but skinny. Even kids in twelve weren't that malnourished. Jessup turned back to you with a little smirk, which brought you a sense of unease.

"Very defensive of your 'not boyfriend'."

You opened and closed your mouth while the seeming permanent blush appeared once more. Your lack of defense brought a small joy to Jessup, a feeling he accepted he would never feel again when his name had been called. You took a deep breath before properly explaining your reasoning for your little deal.

"I'm doing this in part for Coriolanus, yes. I would be lying if I said I wasn't. Another part is for Lucy Gray. I've never met anyone like her, and I think that's a universal experience. If I can't save you, I will save her. I won't let your sacrifice be for nothing. We've taken enough from you."

There was silence for a few moments as Jessup processed. He believed you, maybe too easily, but he did. What he couldn't believe is that you were Capitol.

"Don't say that."

"Say what?"

" 'We'. You are not the same as the people who put us here. You aren't like the rest of the mentors."

Your eyes shined with a few tears of gratitude as you struck your hand out. You had a lopsided smile and a laugh as you uttered a singular word.

"Deal?"

A nod and hidden smile were paired with a reciprocated action as your hands shook.

"Deal."

Hands still interlocked, the sound of Dean Highbottom's voice rang out.

"Snow. Dovecote. Vaun."

One last smile was sent toward Jessup as you stepped out and made your trek towards the infamous Dr. Gaul.

⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆

You were right.

Clemensia didn't even know the proposals were written. Well you did cherish your friend, you had to admit Coryo wad far kinder than you would have been if you were in his shoes.

Clemensia vouleentered for this and yet she couldn't make the effort? You didn't appreciate being her excuse when he own excuse was able to get the work done. This wasn't some school project. This was real life and possibly world changing. You hoped, for her sake, Clemensia knew what she got herself into.

The three of you walked into the expansive lab fillied with odd creatures in all sorts of liquids and devices. You watched Coryo walk over to one and tap on its glass as you examined it from afar. Out of thin air, the peculiar woman appeared, slightly startling you and Clemensia.

"The star burns as it is orbited. Flames lick across it's surface while those circulate it with no fear. Fire pours and the star glows!"

You take in the woman's odd words and look to Coryo to confirm she is talking about and your condition from yesterday. She did call you and Coryo stars so it wouldnt be too far fetched. Unlike the head Gamemaker.

"The sun gets orbited, not stars."

You hear Clemmie whisper into your left ear and you sighed.

"Clemmie, the sun is a star."

Dr. Gaul overhead your whispers as she sent a quizzical and nerve wrecking look towards your companion, causing the latter to slightly shiver.

"Come and see my new babies."

The sickly sweet tone of the Gamemaker certainly didn't settle Clemensia's shivers. Your concerned eyes connected with Coryo, who also seemed apprehensive at the offer.

You followed the graying woman to a circular glass tank containing a vast array of slithering colors. You let your hand slide across the glass, oddly satisfied as the snakes followed your fingers.

"Is there a point to the color?"

"There’s a point to everything, Ms. Dovecote, or to nothing at all. Which brings me neatly to your proposals."

You sucked in a breath as you realized you could easily be thrown into the snake tank. But she wouldn't do that if she hated your proposals right? She might.

"Miss Vaun, next time, ask for a hospital room with better lighting. Your handwriting was incredibly messy."

You turned your head slightly in confusion. Should you be happy that's the only she has issues with? Is this her way to get you distracted to easily throw you in with the reptiles without fight? You didn't expect praise but you didn't know what to make of her given comments. Though you were quick to learn you should be greatful for having notably bad hand writing.

"For you two, which one of you actually wrote it?"

Dr. Gaul turned her unnerving gaze upon your friends. You knew who wrote it, so did they, and it seemed like Dr. Gaul had an inkling.

"Well, there was-"

"I was inspired by Coriolanus yesterday, of course. His little betting idea. But the sponsorships and the gifts in the arena, those were all mine."

You stood there shell shocked as you saw the girl unabashedly take credit for work she didn't even give a word to. The betrayal evident on her supposed partners face as he questioned her.

"Clemmie?"

The confusion between you and Coryo was not shared by Dr. Gaul as she was utterly unfazed.

"So it’s your sweaty handwriting on that page. Very impressive, Ms. Dovecote."

You watched as Clemensia proudly smiled at the woman's praises. Dr. Gaul's approval and audible pride in work was never a good sign. Oh how you wished Clemmie could have seen that.

"Unfortunately, my assistant mistook it for trash this morning and lined the shelf of this very terrarium with it. So, please, Ms. Dovecote, retrieve it for us, won’t you?"

All color of the already pale girls face was drained, a recation copied by both you and Coryo. Your brain ran through all the scenarios to get Clemensia our of there or what could have been if you just hadn't spoken up. None of Clemensia's actions were your fault but you couldn't help but step in.

"I can grab them, if that wouldn't be an issue."

A part of you wished you kept quite as the manically calculated eyes of Volumina Gaul met yours.

"Well they are Miss Dovecotes wonderfully inspired ideas. It is best for her to share it with us, isn't that right?"

You could do nothing but nod along, realizing there wouldn't be a way to get your dark haired friend out of this.

Dr. Gaul turned back to address Clemensia, who was clearly holding back screams of panic. A sight that brought a sick sense of satisfaction to the older woman.

"Don’t worry, my little predators are perfectly docile with those they can trust.

So if they’re used to your scent, if you’ve handled their food, for example, or if they’ve inhaled the sweat of your palm on a page, they’ll leave you alone."

The chilling woman curled closer to the panicking teen as she inhaled her fear.

"A new scent, however…

you’d be on your own, little girl."

That soft tone was quickly replaced with the ragged and stone cold demand.

"Retrieve it."

You felt yourself being held back by some force. You weren't running after her. You weren't jumping into the snake pit. You thought it was the fear holding you back, but you felt the familiar arms of Coriolanus Snow ensuring you weren't going to jump into danger yet again. Whether or not you both wanted to admit it, Clemensia got herself into this situation all on her own.

You held on his arms as you watched the mentor's hand go further and further down the pit of vemenous danger covered in an array of bright colors. The tips of her finger brushed against the page unharmed and a slight breath of relief, Clemensia reached fully for the paper.

The scream scratched against the deepest edges of your ears. Corners of your earlobes that haven't been touched since the death of your mother. Why is it that all those who you love have the scream?

"Clemmie, no! NO!"

When the girl jumped back in pain and shock, Coriolanus was quick to move you the way, accidently creating the clear path as she fell off of the slightly elevated platform. The gasped and clawed at her neck as you both rushed to her side, unsuccessful in finding a way to help your suffering Clemmie.

"You asked about the colors, Ms. Dovecote? I want my enemies to see a rainbow of destruction engulfing the world. I’m not above using spectacle to create a little terror."

You saw the vision but could care less as you desperately tried to comfort your friend.

Is this how you looked less than a day ago? Whipering in the floor while your neck is covered in evidence of an attack?

Some of Dr. Gaul’s assistants rushed over to take Clemensia away, having to push you away to do so. You wanted to run after her but was frozen once more by that sick voice.

"A strategy your classmate here articulated very well in his proposal."

The woman's fascinating eyes moved off of the now horrifyingly still form of Clemensia and back to you and Coriolanus.

"They’re good, your suggestions. The both of you. I’m going to recommend my team implement as many as possible tomorrow."

Coriolanus took the shock for the both of you as you were still focused on the now gone squirming figure of Clemensia Dovecote.

"Will she die?"

You didn't know what to expect exactly but of course, the reality of Dr. Gaul was even more appealing.

"The pleasure in breaking ground in one’s research is one gets to find out."

You shivered at her degradation of the girls struggle into a science experiment. You might have made a mistake mixing in with her, no matter the promise it held.

"You better keep Ms. Dovecote’s fate between us. I don’t think her mother would be happy to learn how she caught this sudden… flu."

You and Coryo shared yet another look as alarms rang in your eyes. Would you two be next if you were unsatisfactory?

Any fear picked up from either of you was ignored by the head Gamemaker as she sighed whisfully.

"Now run along, you have an arena to promote and it’s time for my milk and crackers."

⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆

The arena wasn't far from Dr. Gaul’s laboratory. Only a few streets away, in fact. The entire way was filled with silence between you and Coryo, but it doesn't mean there wasn't communication.

Coryo kept his arm around your waist as you laid your head on his shoulder. He knew what Clemensia's screams reminded you of. He saw the memories flash before your eyes and instinctively scanned Clemmies mouth for any blood. Snow tried to convince you not to go to the arena.

He could look around with both Lucy Gray and Jessup if you wished. But you refused. You wished to tell him of your deal, but you doubted Jessup would inform Lucy Gray, so it would only be fair if you kept quiet for now.

When the pair of you reached the arena, the rest of your classmates and tributes were lined up, waiting for you two. How they knew Clemensia wasn't coming, you weren't sure, but as soon as you and Coriolanus ran all the way to the front where District 12 was held, you began the walk-in.

Coryo was in front of you as you took shallow breaths while walking into the area where you knew only one of the 23 kids would walk out. Your focus was on the blonde curls and square shoulders of your Coryo. Your Coryo. This was a very bad timing for this very sudden thought to appear.

Thankfully, or not, the robotic female voice poured out of the speakers as Coriolanus and Lucy Gray crossed the gates.

"Enjoy the show!"

Of course, it had to say that.

"Enjoy the show!"

The voice continued to repeat itself as the rest of the pairs walked in, along with a few peacekeepers. You watched as Festus directed camera crews to focus on the still sneering Coral. Sneers that were being sent pointedly in your direction. You looked over to Jessup, who seemed to be slightly dazed.

"Jessup?"

The boy turned to you, and it took him a moment for recognition to flash before his eyes. You gulped as you realized that Jessup won't be able to keep his side of the offer for long. But you were determined to keep yours up until the end.

The thought made you turn to the girl you wished to protect. She looked scared and has full reason to. She turned to Coriolanus with pleading eyes. You took a breath and nodded to whatever her request was. She looked back around, still apprehensive. Coryo could have followed her gaze, but instead, he met yours.

In the very same place where half of the inhabitants of the space will be dead starting tomorrow, he looked so calm. He looked worried and was scheming in his brain when he was talking to Lucy Gray, but when he met your eyes? He looked so at peace. You could be imagining it, but that smile was so, so real.

A true and lovesick smile. A smile that grew with every second that you met his gorgeous blue eyes. A smile that you matched in tandem. Young and in love. Lovesick looks across the battlefield.

To be in love during war is the worst casualty of them all.

The sound of heartbreak was the only sound that was more shattering than the explosions that blew around you all.

⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆

a/n: please don't send dr. gaul to my house because i tool FORVER to finally upload this! thank you so much for the wait and support loves, it means the world! pls lmk what you all think💓

@notyourwildestdream 🌹@darktrashsoulbear🌹@fantasylovestoryme 🌹@nekee-lilac02 🌹@a-avengerparker 🌹 @queenofshinigamis 🌹@darlingisntit 🌹 @scarletstarrs 🌹

As If Destiny (part fourteen)🌹

Part 13🌹

A/N: it's been a hot minute, I'm sorry! I was swamped with AP tests and all that nonsense so I haven't had time (or mental capacity) to write. But I have cooked up something! Is it good? Well isn't that up to you dear reader? I hope you enjoy it and forgive me for the wait (and spolier: no coryo😔)! much love!!

⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆

"You look horrible."

You would have retorted to Arachne's comment, but it was true. You did look horrible, and Arachne was blurry. Watching the world speed by in a blur wasn't a concern until you turned your head from the window and the mediocre train car was hazy splotches of color.

"And you look like a pale orb."

Your mind was being split with a migraine, and it felt as if the flood was rushing to your brain, even though you were sitting straight up. These symptoms, which included chills even in the heat-packed train car, had suddenly overtaken you. You played it off as motion sickness because you had no other reason to believe otherwise. Arachne was not so convinced, but she kept her suspicions to herself.

"Well, at least lay down before you hurl on my shoes. I really like this pair."

Your response came in a series of grunts and grumbles as you covered your face when the pain intensified. Arachne closed her leather-bound book while concern broke through her stone-faced expression. You leaned your head back against the headrest as you opened your eyes only to shut them out of the burning pain that accompanied the light.

"Where am I going to lay down exactly? There isn't enough room on these seats."

Ara rolled her chestnut eyes, a motion you obviously missed but could so tangibly feel.

"There is a real innovative mechanism called laying on the floor."

The words were surprising enough that you dealt with the pain as you peeled your eyes open enough for a dubious squint at your friend.

"I didn't even know you knew that concept existed."

You awarded the reason why you narrowly missed the midnight-colored book Arachne threw at you to your natural instincts rather than the still hazed vision of yours.

"Hey, damsel in distress here! A few days out of the Capital and you've lost all sense!"

Your most posh and eloquent voice was composed by the little giggles and breaks as you teased the redhead. She watched on as your joy was interrupted by a fresh wave of pain, earning the otherwise silent car a few winces. Arachne got up, walked straight across to you, and peeled one hand off the side of your skull.

"You're District now, Ace. Get comfortable with the uncomfortable."

She led your throbbing body gently to the ground. You thought she would step back to her original seating, yet Arachne has been one for surprises lately. As the pain washed backward into your mind, your eyes stared straight up at the beige ceiling of the car even with the squirming and huffs of Arachne filling your right ear.

You held in your laughter in paralysis for as many moments you could grasp before they broke through their capture within your throat. Your eyes were still trained on the ceiling as your body rattled with laughter at the clear discomfort and possible regret radiating off Arachne's body.

"Somebody is clearly feeling better." Arachne's reply was a sour grumble, but you joyfully met it with a blinding smile in her direction.

"Oh, but how could I not when the Arachne Crane is willing to lay on the atrocious floor for silly old me—OW! Stop attacking me!"

Well, and of course, the only natural reply was yet another slap to your abdomen from the smirking redhead.

The two of you stared up at the ceiling in an air of harmony. Silence has been more foe than friend in recent times, yet in those moments of peace, it was a readily accepted companion. Your eyes were strained at the ceiling, ears to the rumble of the tracks beneath you, and your heart was not with you but in shreds somewhere in District Eight. You closed your eyelids against the thought, but it reached into every corner of your mind and being. Though, before you could physically beat it out of you, the train began to slow.

Arachne was quick to get up and confirmed your arrival with astonishment capturing her pale features. You sat up and used your friend's outstretched hand to pull yourself up, catching a glimpse outside the window.

The train station was littered with a sullen and soot-covered population fluttering around. The distance was consumed by coal mines and smoke painting the sky a sickly shade of abuse. Grey was the only word to describe what crossed your vision. The sky, atmosphere, and people.

Both you and Arachne stepped outside and seemingly into your pasts. The hunger in the eyes. Paleness of the workers' skin. Ever-present tears latching onto the populace's eyes. It was a scene you and Arachne were all too familiar with. Before you, district-born citizens shifted into long-dead Capital residents. You were no longer the woman you forged yourself into but that little scared girl. The grey was not from the coal but rather the gloom of expired misery.

"Come on, Ace."

Arachne's voice was soft as her eyes trained on your vacant face. She lightly nudged you towards the direction of the transport cars for the rest of the scientists and peacekeepers. Your footsteps felt like molds within cement as you made your way across the train platform.

It was all in due time, you think. Every experience you've ever had with trains was all in regards to this district in which you now inhabit. District Twelve seems to be the only certainty within your life.

Nothing but pure curiosity flowed through you as the transport car made its way to the base. The sky was prepared for storms, causing the color to match the houses, yet the trees from the midway forest stood out. No matter how many faces or buildings you passed, your eyes were trained on the woods. Woods that held such deep secrets. And bodies.

The base was a large complex of several buildings as well as a series of courtyards currently filled with training peacekeepers. You and Arachne made your way into the main building and were impressed. Not by any architectural feats but the lack of pearly marble the Capital prides itself in.

You and your assessing companion had to split up into two different lines for registration, although you both would be filling the same role as researchers here. Arachne made her way to the front of the alphabet while you settled into the section for the latter half. You had a good while before you reached the registration table, so you spent your time once again analyzing your surroundings.

The area was far greener than the area surrounding the train station. The thought of how the foresters' area must look when the sun shines crossed your mind. Brightness in Twelve invariably shifted your thoughts to Lucy Gray Baird. Casca Highbottom was a cruel man, but would he add to the fresh scars of the underdog winner? Unbeknownst to you, your thoughts were painted crystal clear upon your face.

"If you are planning an escape route from here, I would recommend the trees."

Your trance was broken by a smooth voice. You spun around and were met with glistening hazel eyes belonging to an admittedly handsome man with freshly buzzed hair. Just one simple statement and reality was crashing hard around you as the realization that all of the past days' events were real.

You were disowned, outcast, and banished to the District that martyred your family and its sanity. Unfortunately, the silence that was a byproduct of your epiphanies was mistaken as disregard by the striking man. His smile turned shy while an awkward laugh escaped him.

“Uhm, that wasn’t very specific, was it? I am still getting used to the forests surrounding me.”

The boy, who couldn't have been more than a year or two older than you, scratched his neck while he avoided eye contact with you. It finally dawned on you that an actual response is expected from you and this boy was the first human you've spoken to in the past few days besides Arachne. As much fondness you hold for her, it is refreshing to hear another voice. You looked directly at him and gave him a kind smile.

“I am going to have to get used to it as well, though the advice seems pretty sound. I’ll end up somewhere, even if it is in a circle.”

His hazel eyes snapped back to yours as soon as he heard your voice (fortunately) not belittling him or insulting his awkward statements. The line moved up a handful of people in the span of your miniature conversation. You walked forward along with the line and when you turned back to face the brunette, your faces were mere inches apart.

Your eyes met his hazel ones as you hastily backed up in panic as you sought your rings to provide you comfort. Now, you were the one avoiding eye contact and coughing while trying to rid yourself of your reddened cheeks. Accident or not, the proximity felt like yet another reminder of your new twenty years of loneliness. Or possibly less, as Arachne tries her best to convince you.

“Uhm, I - I am so sorry! There was someone moving past me and I tried to make room and—”

“It’s okay, I promise.”

He was clearly sweet and shy, although a bit graceless. Though it wouldn't be too bad to make some friends in your home for the next three years. His cheeks burned with unbearable heat as he tried to move past the prior fumble between the two of you.

“Well, those are beautiful rings.”

You had completely forgotten about the jewelry you still had been messing with to calm your nerves. Your eyes moved to look at the one you currently had your ring finger looped through, and it was no surprise to see the riveting snowflakes shine in the fluorescent lights. Though you tried to fight it off, somberness overtook you, but you were able to manage a timid thank you as you were hypnotized by the ring filled with promises of the past. Unfortunately, the poor boy couldn't help but continue the unintentionally one sided conversation.

"You must be from the Capitol."

After mentally cursing yourself for losing your attention again, your eyebrows scrunched in curiosity at the boy's quick assumption.

"Am I so obvious?"

Your voice was a mixture of astonishment and vulnerability. Worries about standing out like a sore thumb and what consequences that might result in began poisoning your mind but were slightly calmed by this odd boy's laugh.

"I haven't been here long, but even I know that people in Twelve don't have jewelry like that. Plus, most scientists here are from the Capitol, so it was easy to guess. Not to mention other—uhm—attributes."

The last note was a bit peculiar but was easily surpassed by embarrassment. You hid your face behind your hands as you groaned in mortification.

"Ugh, you must think me vapid and insolent!"

Only a few more aspiring scientists and Peacekeepers stood between you and the table now, yet your eyes were still covered in humiliation that was only intensified by yet another chuckle from the boy.

"Yeah, no, out here in the Districts, we don't use those words either."

Yet another groan rumbled through your throat as you tried to fuse your hands to your face. However, your plans were foiled as a light shoulder bump sparked intrigue. Those hazel eyes were the first sight to grace the world outside your palms, and the second was his tender smile.

"Don't worry too much. Just hide your clearly expensive rings and steer away from words straight out of a dictionary. Do they make you guys recite from the dictionary out there? Give me five synonyms for embarrassed. Oh, wait, no—did I just accidentally insult the Capitol?"

And like that, the dread that had overcome you began melting off as you earned a chuckle of your own, which he met with a charming grin, although the concern about his possible offense made it slightly tense. You quickly tucked your rings beneath your shirt and scribbled a reminder into your brain to find new articles to fidget with.

"You know what? Some might be studying it as much as our textbooks for increasingly niche words to insult others."

There was only a girl in front of you now with dark red hair and freckled skin as you and your companion giggled. He was the first to stop as he looked to you for confirmation that he wouldn’t be hanged for laughing at Capitol residents, albeit with one of their own. A sweet silence accompanied you both when you looked up at the taller boy in interest.

"Well, now since you know where I am from, it's only fair I get to know the same about you."

A look of longing and sadness swam through his earth-toned eyes. He looked off into the distance while squaring his shoulders as if to carry mountains of weight upon them.

"Two."

You had always been good with words, but they failed you at that moment. Not only did Sejanus race through your mind, but his fallen friend turned tribute, Marcus. Was there any chance that this boy knew either of them?

"Next!"

Your gaze met once more, but all further inquiries ceased as an opening appeared in front of a middle-aged blonde woman with deep brown eyes. No time could be wasted in any aspect related to the Capitol, so you swallowed your curiosity and made your way forward. Though you never did get the boy's name.

The woman looked exhausted from clear years of service, and her voice only added to her evident exasperation. She asked the expected questions of what your name was and took your fingerprints as she gave you several forms to fill out while her head remained down, writing furiously at a stack of papers.

"Y/N Vaun, ma'am."

While you knew your surname was infamous in the Capitol, you were shocked at the sudden movement of the woman’s head upwards. Seconds passed as her gaze just burned into your being while you could do nothing more than avert your own sight elsewhere. The woman quickly regained her professionalism and swiftly retrieved a small, pristine white envelope. The texture was fine and could be from nowhere else than the Capitol. A claim supported by the evidently formal handwriting on the front displaying your name.

"It's an honor to have you here, Miss Vaun. You must be something special; that letter comes straight from Casca Highbottom."

The man's name was enough for you to stop all movement. Your fingers paused, your breathing ceased, and your eyes froze in place. Of course, the Hunger Games creator wasn't done playing games with you yet. Yet, if there was one thing you needed to master to survive here, it was a facade. So, you swallowed your anguish and gave a polite smile as you finished up all your forms.

You flew through them, especially compared to a young black-haired and tanned boy next to you who was one of the many illiterate. Just as you finished the last signature and handed off to the aging woman, you noticed Arachne appear in the corner of your right eye. In the corner of your left, you searched for the hazel-eyed boy from before, though all searches were fruitless as he was nowhere to be found. You grabbed your uniform, ID, and other important papers and made your way to your friend, and thankfully, bunkmate, as Capitol researchers only had to share their rooms with one other peer.

"Getting bribes already, Ace?"

Arachne joked as she nodded towards the pearly envelope that stood out from your other items. You responded with a swift jab to the side and a loud "hush!" The look in your eyes was quickly understood by the redhead to stall any further questioning till the hopefully, safety of your room.

You both walked out into the central courtyard and made your way to the scientist quarters in the west, opposite the Peacekeeper quarters in the east. You watched a regiment of the latter-mentioned group run past the two of you, guns in clear sight causing anxious breaths to ripple through your lungs.

Though, you attempted to remind yourself that you were seen as one of them. Not a threat. Due to the events of the past week, it had been hard not to keep an eye out over your shoulder. However, the arrival to your room was smooth and as soon as your door was shut, you wasted no time before throwing Arachne the envelope, which she caught swiftly. You let her examine it for herself as you looked around the room that you would be calling refuge for the next 36 months.

It was small yet not cramped. The walls were a bland grey and the floor cold cement. Directly opposite the door was a central window that pointed towards the woods, as your room was in the back of the housing complex. You threw yourself down on the right grey and metal-wired bed, leaving Arachne to settle into the one across as she grappled with the paper within her hands.

"Congrats, you are officially his number one favorite victim to mess with."

Your groans of frustration were confirmation that Arachne’s words were far from helpful. You got up from your sitting position and snatched the envelope out of her hands and began pacing back and forth. Whatever was in the envelope, it wasn’t good.

"Maybe he felt generous and gave you some money. Or a postcard from your home that he banished you from. Or maybe some spare morphling—oh, who are we kidding?"

You leveled her with a glare of equal disappointment.

"That was unnecessary and cruel."

"Just like the Hunger Games, right?"

Her words were a surprise, no doubt, but Arachne is full of them nowadays. She is District Twelve after all. And willingly! You looked down at the handwriting of the Games' inventor and huffed. Might as well get it over with.

In one expeditious movement, you ripped the envelope open and pulled out the equally as extravagant paper from its hiding place. You couldn’t resist the urge to quickly unfold the paper and read it in an instant. In all truth, that was all it took to read the articles of the letter.

It was a truth Arachne quickly found out after your scoff that piqued her intrigue even further as she made her way to read over your shoulder. Then it was her turn to scoff at the words written. You stood in place, rereading the letter’s contents over and over again while she walked over to the window.

"Just to be clear, he only hates you and Coriolanus because you look like your dead parents?"

Your bitter laugh was a sign enough of the ridiculousness of this whole situation and the cruelty of Casca Highbottom. No matter the reason, it was only fact that Dean Highbottom wished hell upon Coriolanus Snow and, by association and loyalty, you. Your eyes trained upon the words once more as you tried to make sense of them.

South of society and North of the reminders. The woods are full of blood's secrets.

You make your way to Arachne’s post by the window. Looking out to the rows and rows of trees, whether fortunately or not, the meaning of the words opened up in your mind. You turned your head to Arachne, who was already looking your way, and had a smile of exasperation upon your lips yet mischief in your eyes.

She already began shaking her head against whatever idea you concocted. Letter in hand and dread in place, you try to poke at the last bit of light you can grasp.

"Ready to take a hike?”

⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆

It was mid-afternoon, and the sun began slowly breaking apart the clouds as you trekked through the woods, a disgruntled Arachne following.

“Of all the districts, you just had to be sent here?” She grumbled rhetorically while smacking a branch harshly out of her frowning face.

You were ahead of her, trying to analyze your surroundings for any type of so-called “reminders.” A small blade was in your hand as your focus centered on the plethora of tree trunks. You had no idea what you were looking for, but you knew Dean Highbottom. If there was one joy in the man’s desolate life, it was using the dead to torture the living. Ghost stories were his favorite pastime.

Your family's ghosts lived within these woods. Their blood became the fertilizer of the sturdy trees. The rabbit hole within your mind brought you nothing but fury until you were the one throwing all caution to the wind as you hit branches and cut trees in your way. The turn in your behavior was picked up instantly by Arachne, who rushed to your side, narrowly avoiding tripping twice. She gently put a hand on an outstretched forearm and forced you to look at her.

Not a single word came out of her mouth. Only patience radiated off of her as she waited for your explanation to ease her worries. You huffed as you looked up to force the tears inside.

“I know who I am going to find and what he has become.”

No name was mentioned, and there was no need. Arachne had also suspected Highbottom's ploy. Otto Vaun had been butchered with these very trees, and hard physical proof of your brother's death was the punishment you were sent to Twelve for. Arachne wasn't often someone people looked to for comfort, nor did she wish to be. However, after finally reconnecting with you, she wanted to be at least somewhat of a pillar of solace.

She went in for an attempt at a hug until you were saved from her unpracticed embrace when her eyes caught onto something strange. Arachne lightly gasped, causing you to follow her line of sight, and strange no longer became the right word. Sinister was the only description you felt fit.

A thick tree stood in contrast to all those surrounding it as its bark was not the casual brown it ought to be but rather a dismal grey. In the center of it was a charcoal black outline of a body, and upon closer inspection, bodies due to the varying lines around the arms and head. Upon the sides were fingernail marks clawing at the bark in deep grooves. It did not even smell like the rest, but rather of fatality.

Stillness and silence overtook the woods as you and Arachne were hypnotized by the macabre display. The pair of you were so fully absorbed that a movement was heard in the leaves, and you were on high alert. You quickly readied your blade and scanned your eyes over the area. You were unsure of which though horrified you most: a possible Peacekeeper who would rat you out for your unsupervised and unapproved excursion or an unfriendly local.

The sound began jumping from area to area along with your heart rate as you couldn’t stop your head from continually swiveling. It came continually closer, which naturally pushed you and Arachne back to the base of the grotesque tree.

You felt it hit your back, causing you to turn and feel the panic and fear of the sight all over again as you let out a small scream.

You stumbled back from the burnt bark only to be met with the source of your initial fright, a little brown rabbit who quickly hopped away at your appearance. Yet another small yelp of surprise pushed past your lips, causing Arachne to laugh as she stepped towards you.

“How you survived the arena, I don’t understand.”

Your arm was already instinctively pulling back to land a punch on her arm when a voice appeared from the leaves above you, causing the taunting girl to scream herself. Hypocrite.

“I knew you weren’t from the Seam! Too jumpy.”

A young yet self-assured voice spoke. The voice belonged to a young girl with dark curly hair, tan skin, and eyes that felt all too familiar. However, your interest was quickly recaptured as another girl appeared and voiced her opinions.

“If it makes you feel better, I said you were too pretty to be from the Seam.”

This girl’s voice was sweet and honey-like, reminding you of a certain charismatic singer and victor. The two girls, who seemed to be around 12, got themselves comfortable and fully visible as they sat upon some branches.

The one with curly hair was wearing a pair of dusty dark brown pants paired with a worn-out dusty blue blouse. Her blonde companion was dressed in a colorful textured pink and white maxi skirt with a baby blue blouse as well. You stared at them curiously while Arachne was in her natural state of suspicion and intimidation. The pair stared down at you expectantly, and when neither you nor Arachne spoke, their eyes lit up as rapid-fire questions were asked.

“So where are you from?!”

“How did you get here?”

“Have you been to any other districts?! What are they like?!”

“Why are you here?”

“Are you guys friends too?! Have you ever been to the Capitol?! Ooo are you from the Capitol?!”

“No way, look at the scars on her neck. That doesn’t happen in the Capitol.”

You had no control as your hand involuntarily covered the aforementioned scars. Arachne didn’t like this one bit and couldn’t keep the edge out of her voice.

“You know nothing about the Capitol.”

The possibility of even just one of you being from the Capitol should have caused the girls to take heed and for them to leave when they could. But the pair weren’t known for their social awareness.

The girl of certainty jumped down, quickly followed by her sweet-smiled friend. You just watched as she walked towards you and no matter how fast your reflexes, you were too stunned to stop the girl from poking your forehead. She moved away immediately, yet you swatted the vacant air, staring at her for some sort of explanation that might somehow excuse the odd action. She shrugged as if it was completely normal.

“My dad sees fake people all the time. I thought maybe I could too!”

The excitement in her voice did nothing to reason her appearance rationally. You’ve only ever met two other District Twelve locals, and they were Jessup and Lucy Gray. Jessup's silence was understandable, and you excused Lucy Gray's oddities due to her Covey affiliation, but now you are starting to think this is normal District behavior. If so, the next three years are going to be something.

It was then that the blonde noticed the forgotten letter in your grasp.

“Ooo, what's in the letter?!”

You cleared your throat and tried to move past their questioning to ask some of your own. You nodded toward the tree with the ghastly marks. The two looked at it as if it was not different than the rest until it clicked in their head. They began speaking over each other until the one with familiar eyes began explaining.

“Ah, it's one of my favorite relics - that’s the right word, right?” She looked to her friend for confirmation, who giddily nodded her head. Both you and Arachne shared a look: this was going to be an interesting tale.

“Back in the war, the Capitol wasn’t good at dealing with the woods, so they started burning them down! The poor birds. So our soldiers got fed up, and whenever they got the chance, they tied them and did the same thing!”

Her ecstatic voice got you both lost as you tried to assure what she was saying. In addition, you started oddly feeling ice prickling your skin, yet there was no change on the surface. The local picked up on your confusion and was quick to confirm your suspicions.

“They sent them in flames! But you know what's funny? This tree outlived them all hahaha!”

Arachne was able to swallow the brutal practice easier than you, muttering something about “poetic irony.” She turned to gauge your reaction and instantly snapped into action.

Your eyes became glossed over, looking more like ice than your normally lively eyes. Your skin paled, and you were shivering. The second Arachne grabbed a hold of you, you fully lost consciousness.

“Was it the talk about fire or trees?” the dark-haired girl asked casually and was swiftly smacked upon her neck by her friend.

“You killed her! We are so going to be next! Rowan!”

The girl-Rowan, tried to play it off with a scoff and shake of her head.

“I didn't kill her! It's allergy season!”

Arachne was done with both of their likely endless banter and snapped orders.

“Stop bickering! Call someone and now!”

The two looked at your still-shaking body and swallowed. The blonde, who was still nameless to the two of you, turned to her friend in urgency.

“Go call your brother!”

Rowan was immediately against that as the fear overtook her eyes.

“No, absolutely not! Go call your sister! He will kill me if he found out!”

“They both will kill us when they figure out we actually did commit murder!”

Arachne was impatient and more than irritated at their lack of urgency.

“I will be the one committing murder if one of you doesn't alert someone immediately.”

Yet again, they turned to each other and pointed.

“Rowan, go!”

“Maude Ivory, go!”

Then, to the relief of Arachne's blood pressure, a man who looked only a few years older than you appeared, carrying what looked like a handmade bow and a quiver of arrows.

He noticed the two screaming girls first as he addressed them.

"What have I told you guys about yelling in the woods? Someone will find you—”

The words died on his tongue as he took in your cold and shivering body. Arachne, like anyone else, assumed the shock was from seeing an unconscious body on the floor. Yet, Rowan wasn’t unknown to the man and had been feeling some sort of connection to you.

“Wait, yeah! She does look like—”

“What did you guys do now?!”

The panic was evident in the dark-haired man as he tried to think of ways to explain the situation if any Peacekeepers were to walk upon them. The tone in his voice was warning enough not to press it, but the girls never really cared for warning labels.

“We were curious! We’ve never seen her before and she doesn’t look from Twelve! I think she is from one or two.”

Rowan exclaimed while Maude Ivory's voice was quick to refute.

“I think she is from the Capitol!”

“You better pray we aren’t!”

It was then that the three of them remembered or noticed that Arachne was sitting right there, cradling your body that had stopped shivering yet was ice cold. She felt for your pulse once more and it was slow, far too slow. The look evident in Arachne’s chestnut orbs translated the severity of the situation and was all the man needed to start moving. He crouched beside your body still within Arachne’s arms. He gestured to take your body but the Capitol girl was hesitant.

“We are researchers at the base, it would be safer to take her there.”

Just the mention of the base had the man shaking his dark unruly locks in opposition. He emphasized to Arachne that she had already broken several of their rigid rules by going out into the woods without proper training yet. Self-preservation was also a factor in his case because, well, he wasn’t the most favored person in the District. Arachne wasn’t sure why she agreed to let him take you back to his nearby cabin, yet here the five of you were.

The man sprinted to the cabin, busting open the door in the process. He set you upon an elevated cot while directing orders to the young girls. Maude Ivory was to grab a tin to start a small fire and Rowan to grab all blankets and thick material possible.

Arachne was never medically gifted so she stood out of the way while the house was enveloped in panic. The man was steady as he continued to check your pulse and ensure your chest was still rising. Maude Ivory and Rowan both returned with their allotted tasks completed, seemingly always in perfect synchrony.

Once both girls returned, he made eye contact with Arachne and ordered her to continue checking your well-being. He stepped into a small kitchen just opposite the room you were set in. Arachne could only assume that it was a living room of sorts yet the cot made her think it was also a bedroom.

She sat beside you while the girls tried to ensure you were warm and took in the state of the house. It was messy, small, and unorganized. There was dirt on the floor, leaves stuck within the cracks, mud on all the surfaces. But what caught Arachne’s attention were the tens of varying colored and shaped papers posted upon the wood walls.

The man quickly returned with an odd-colored tea and a towel, quickly dabbing it inside the tea and placing it upon your forehead. The redhead was subconsciously making her way to the decorated wall and was met with messy yet intricately detailed drawings. Her eyes scanned each one, bafflement exceeding the prior. It was only when she landed on a drawing that was of a woman Arachne knew all too well.

She whipped her head in the direction of the man, whose focus was still on you. Arachne kept her distance as her tone became just as icy as your being.

“Who exactly are you, white knight?”

Maude Ivory and Rowan both cocked their heads at your words while the man only creased his eyebrows, puzzled by her words. She took a calculated step forward and the Arachne Crane of only a few weeks ago came back alive. Arachne didn’t appreciate being played and that dislike extended to people playing with you. Though any interrogation was silenced as you began waking up.

Your eyes fluttered open and as soon as reality hit you, you picked your head up only to smash it back down in frustration. The move immediately frightened the suspicious man and Arachne, who rushed to your bedside to ensure you wouldn’t do the same move. You were quick to smack their hands away from you as you sat up, clearly displeased with the past events.

“I’m fine, I don’t need to lie down! I’m sick of being sick.”

Arachne rolled her eyes at your lack of self-concern while the man’s brown eyes creased in bewilderment. You looked around and noticed the prior two girls and the room, this likely being their home. It suddenly hit you that the man was a new addition to your little group. You nodded to him and gave a quick “nice to meet you,” seemingly unfazed.

After examining you herself, Arachne decided you were good enough to make the trek back and as far away from the man as possible. She pulled your arm harshly, causing you to stumble from the layers of blankets and clothing upon your now warm body. The force caused your necklace of rings to fly out of your shirt as well as nearly smashing into yet another man who just appeared.

This one was much older, hair already graying and eyes sullen. His skin was scarred and calloused. He didn’t smell much better than he looked. However, as your eyes connected, you noticed a similarity. A memory. The detail struck you both as he gasped.

You feared you did something or possibly hurt him so you started checking for wounds when his dry hand reached out and gently lifted your chin upwards to his now glossy and pooling eyes. His eyes mirrored yours in shade, a similarity you’ve never shared with anyone besides your own blood. He took you in as tears were let out, his hands shaking with the force of his sobs. Your mind was flooded with theories and questions, all of which you didn’t know what to make of.

You felt a cold metal on the side of your face and gently took his right hand away to reject an insane possibility screaming within your mind. Though, as you looked down at his hand, all of reality crashed down along with your knees. It can’t be possible. It cannot be possible.

The man followed you to the floor, the both of you crouched and you joined his crying. You pulled your necklace up to his finger. Side by side, two rings, of a lost era, proudly displayed the house of which you were the only remnant. Or so you believed.

A stag with vines surrounding was the notorious family crest of the Embridges. Your mother’s family. You looked back into the man’s eyes and he was no longer just a man.

“Uncle Alreic?”

You felt the air being ripped out of your lungs as he crushed you within his embrace. He soaked your hair with tears and followed it with patting it down. Alreic rocked you back and forth as if he let go just a fraction you would disappear.

Time was no longer a concept as he held onto you and you had forgotten the spectators until the young man with dark curls crouched beside you two. He lightly nudged Alreic’s body away from you until he could meet his eyes. You expected him to be upset but instead, his eyes lit up from their glossy state.

“Look Otto! Look, I told you you would see your mother again!”

Your breathing stopped but not because of a strong hug, but emotional destruction. You looked at the boy who was called Otto then back to the man who declared him such. It was then that you finally knew why Highbottom sent you here.

It would have been far too easy, far too gracious to let you off with just their graves. You have to deal with the resurrection of fatality’s pain.

⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆

let me know what you guys think:)

@notyourwildestdream 🌹@darktrashsoulbear🌹@fantasylovestoryme 🌹@nekee-lilac02 🌹@a-avengerparker 🌹 @queenofshinigamis 🌹@darlingisntit 🌹 @scarletstarrs 🌹

As If Destiny (Part Fifteen)🌹

Part 14🌹

A/N: wow... it's almost like it's almost been 3 months and i have to be awake in 2 hours... not that's real huh... ANYWAYS! please lemme know what you think and much love:)

not very proof read!!

⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆

You went numb. Your jaw clenched while your eyes squinted at the two in front of you. It was official: you must have gone as mad as Dr. Gaul. Your head was shaking vigorously as you backed away. The young man—so-called Otto—looked at you as if you were a fragile vase breaking apart, while the older—Alreic—paid your actions no mind, swallowed by exhilaration.

You couldn't take your eyes off Otto, an action he mirrored. The notorious Embridge eyes that you and your brother shared were not staring back at you. Arachne stepped toward you in concern, but you were quick to put a swift hand out, motioning for her to halt. Your gaze never left the young man, and with each passing second, he seemed to become more anxious, continually flicking his gaze back and forth between you and your uncle.

It has to be your uncle.

You can't afford to lose any last grip on your sanity on an increasingly possible vision. The Embridge house ring was dull but still shone brightly on his finger. You trailed your sight upwards, and every feature was just as you remembered, although in far rougher shape. The most damning evidence: a pair of identical eyes connected with your own. Wait.

This entire situation might have been a fragment of your imagination, but what you saw in front of you was subtle yet no doubt happening. Purple started seeping in from the outside of your uncle's irises and making its way to the pupil. His eyes were a beautiful horror.

"Rowan, take Maude Ivory and our guest outside. Now."

Otto emphasized the urgency in his tense expression, effectively leaving no room for opposition from the usually argumentative girl. He must have noticed the change in tandem. Rowan and Maude Ivory made their way to the door, albeit reluctantly, while Arachne stood still and defiant in response to the stranger’s orders. Chestnut eyes were trained on you while yours never left the amethysts growing in your uncle's irises. You nodded your head solemnly. The air felt stiff and still, only broken by the eventual movement of a hesitant Arachne out the door. As soon as the wood was shut, Otto wasted no time turning to you.

"Cloria, we need to go."

You refused to look at "Otto" as he urged your departure. Something was happening to the last of your family, and there was no way an imposter was going to stop you from finding out.

"That's not my name."

Your voice was dripping with malice directed towards Otto, but it sparked something in your uncle. His eyes were nearly coated in purple ink as they began assessing you.

"Your name is Cloria."

You sighed as a heavy burden set itself upon your shoulders. How do you tell a man that his entire family, save you, are with the wind? Yet again, what exactly has he been doing in the woods that his forces have been butchered in for the past 13 years? Your eyes softened, as did your voice, before it was cut in with one that was begging to burn agitation within you.

"Cloria, we really need to get going!"

There was a staunch emphasis on the name. You whipped your head to the boy as irritation clouded your judgment.

"And what exactly is your name?"

His eyes were now drowned in terror as they switched back to the purple ones of your uncle, who began glaring in skepticism. It was Uncle Alreic who was the one to beat the boy from speaking this time.

"Cloria, you know that is Otto."

Trepidation made its way down your throat as you stepped towards the rightful heir of House Embridge.

"Uncle Alreic—"

A hand harshly gripped your wrist as you were dragged away. There was no need to check the perpetrator as you burst your way out of his tight hold, positively fuming.

"Cloria—"

"I'm not Cloria!"

Your patience had been obliterated. Weeks of constant reminders and pity for your mother's passing, with the addition of the mess that was the Tenth Hunger Games, had broken you. You refused to be a playing piece in yet another one of Casca Highbottom's sick games. You stood face to face with the man who seemed to be the ultimate breaking point of your sanity. He reached for you again.

"You don't understand! Just go along with it for now!"

He whispered sharply as you dodged his attempt. You didn't trust him in the slightest, but the sincerity—and terror—in his eyes were not lies. Honest or not, you needed answers at once. Your mouth opened to retort when all noise became muffled ringing. When your vision cleared from the blackness of your previously shut eyes, horror closed the airways in your body upon the new sight. A fresh bullet in the wood. Only a centimeter away from your skull.

⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆

It was just supposed to be a normal day. Well, the new “normal” the currently humming brunette was trying to get used to. The woods were understandably frightening to those not used to their depth and vastness. However, for the charming girl, it was a comfort. Just her, the birds, the trees, and the wind.

The several soaring birds above were whistling along with the young woman. Dressed in an off-white, flowy dress with a light, colorful embroidered shawl wrapped around her and stunning pink carnations in hand, she felt a peace that had been hard to find lately. The breeze brushed through her hair and lifted the worries off her shoulders. Looking ahead through the trees, an old and crumbling cottage came into view.

Wild vines and weeds had overtaken the feeble structure, covering up the shattered windows. But it wasn’t the cabin that had drawn the woman over. Rather, the slight clearing behind it. There sat three cracking and cheaply made gravestones with a new and well-made one situated farthest to the right. She dusted off her dress and cleared her throat as she lifted her skirt to kneel in front of the most recent addition to the small graveyard. Her hand traced over the letters engraved and downwards to the dirt. The previous bunch of flowers was beginning to decay, so she quickly added their replacement. Rays of the late evening sun amplified the beauty of the flowers’ pink hue. The young woman had a fascination with plants and flowers, especially with their meanings. The pink carnation was a sentimental favorite due to its symbolism of a vow to never forget the recipient. In this case, it was none other than Jesup Diggs.

“Still here.”

It was barely a whisper. Her hand began fumbling with the surrounding grass.

“He misses you a lot. We all do. The other day, Rowan made the finest arrow I’ve ever seen, and the first person she ran to tell was you until she remembered. Not even Otto. Though, I’m sure she scampered her way here to tell you already.”

The laugh was light and sorrowful. Every trip to visit hurt. She marked off the days, waiting for the one when her smile would be genuine. Her head turned upwards, and she noticed the sunlight waning through the branches. If she wanted to get home before sundown, then she needed to start making her way to her ultimate destination. The brunette assured the steadiness of the flowers once more and lifted herself up. Her hands brushed off the slightest coat of dirt beginning to form as she let out a huff and a weak smile.

“Thank you.”

With that hushed gratitude, the girl in the white dress began picking up speed through the woods. It didn’t take longer than a few minutes for yet another aging cottage to bloom into sight. The two young girls bickering were a familiar sight that brought no concern, although the same could not be said for the foreign woman standing nearby. As the white-dressed girl made it to the creaking porch, the red-headed stranger turned towards the new visitor. Her face was awfully familiar, yet the brunette couldn’t place her resemblance.

“Have we met before?”

The redhead had a light and mask-like smirk stretching across her pretty face. Her skin was pale, clean, and clear. An air of status projected off of her. Whoever she may be, she clearly wasn't from Twelve.

The foreigner was leaning on one of the mahogany porch posts and oddly seemed to relax at the inquisition.

"No matter. Everyone knows you, isn't that right, songbird?"

Maude Ivory and Rowan paused their back-and-forth for the odd exchange. The young eyes drifted from one to the other waiting girl. As the moment stretched on into an uncomfortable chokehold, Maude Ivory couldn’t handle it anymore.

“We found them in the woods!”

Her voice was high-pitched as she looked at the tan girl she called a sister. The blonde’s outburst was backed up by Rowan’s fervent nods behind her shoulder.

“Them?”

“Yeah, she’s in there with Otto and Dad right now. Otto kicked us out because Dad is acting weird again.”

This was news to the brunette. The introduction of two strangers who had garnered her sister's infatuation was not much of a surprise; she and Rowan spent their time listening in on all the local gossip and stories. One look towards the sharp gaze of the foreigner assured her that whoever her companion was, she must be from the same opulent land.

A land of opulence.

There was only one place in all of Panem that held that title.

The girl with auburn locks watched as the pieces connected in the deep brown eyes of the Hunger Games' newest winner. Just as soon as it was connected, it was shattered along with the wood beside your head. The gunshot ricocheted into the ears of the now petrified group. They were inside in an instant, never questioning their running towards gunfire.

Your eyes locked onto the hole that would have been inside your head if you had only moved the slightest bit more to the left. However, with four pairs of feet rushing towards the still-smoking scene, your gaze connected with the newest addition to the party.

“Lucy Gray?”

“Y/N?”

Otto, Rowan, and Maude Ivory were getting—or already had—blistering headaches with the number of twists that had happened in the short time span. Otto may have been taken off guard for a second, but that was all the time he could afford. He was quick to start demanding their evacuation. Unlike with you, he kept his eyes on the girls instead of Alreic as he tried to persuade them to safety.

You looked at Arachne. Tears swam in her eyes, along with emotions flickering far too fast to name. Your attention was ripped away from her as the sound of a gun being readied was heard. Otto turned his body to face the maddened Alreic while using his body to shield the three Twelve natives.

Alreic’s hands were shaking as his amethyst orbs twitched in and out of focus. His gun swiped through the air as it refocused its aim on you. The action could be argued as foolish, but you stood as still as stone as he took uncoordinated steps toward you. Otto was shouting at him to stop, each shout more pleading than the last, yet he refused to leave his post as a shield. You never looked away from the maddened man who once held you so tightly.

He could be anywhere in the world, for however long, have his eyes and behavior flip instantly, but you knew. You saw the shade before they changed. Eyes could distract, but they can never lie.

Your breathing was unrhythmic while your body shook from tension. The barrel of the gun was still scorching as it made its imprint on your forehead. You had never seen such a grotesque wonder like the eyes that burned their own marks into you.

“What have you done to Cloria, thief?”

His scabbed hands made their way to your necklace and pulled you impossibly closer to the barrel. The pain was searing from both the pressure and the burning gunpowder heat. Your fists began curling as your plan was being set into motion. As your silence stretched for too long, his patience stretched too thin. Your eyes tracked his finger’s movement to the trigger. He planned his aim, and so did you. Just as you moved your arm back and out into a cross swing, your fist met a different target.

Arachne stood to the side as she watched the gun meet your head. Her sensibility urged her to remain still, but rationality had no chance of winning this round. Arachne had watched the lights flicker out of your usually bright eyes once before. She had stood still far too long.

All the other present members in the room were too preoccupied to notice her quiet movement towards the long-abandoned tea. She slowly grabbed the metal tray beneath the pot and stalked her way behind the armed man. Just as you had, she watched his finger begin to close in on the trigger, and action was taken. Only the slightest moment before you, she whipped the rusty metal tray across the unwell man’s head, causing him to immediately collapse to the ground. You could fight fast, but were too slow to realize that your fist was hitting Arachne instead of Alreic. A series of screams echoed throughout the room: Arachne’s was a yelp of pain, yours a mixture of shock and regret, the rest were shouts of horror at the violent scene.

“The hell was that for?!”

Arachne’s voice was gruff as she turned, gripping her now-marked skin. The pain in your knuckles began making itself present as the adrenaline wore off.

“Me?! What did you think you were doing?”

“You just expected me to let you take the hit?!”

“Well, that is what you did last time.”

You and Arachne’s blaring squabble was interrupted by the sweet honey of Lucy Gray Baird’s voice. You both turned your heads to the singer as she looked at Arachne unimpressed. The scowl upon Arachne’s face was deadly, only enhanced by the black mark forming on the left side of her cheek. Otto was about to start throwing punches of his own out of frustration. There was just too much, too fast. Otto hated change and fuss—things that had happened constantly since you showed up. Muffled groans echoed off his calloused hands as he covered his face.

“Someone start talking.”

Rowan gave a sidelong glance toward her distressed brother before quietly addressing her own concerns.

“Is my dad going to be okay?”

Otto huffed lightly as he mumbled a soft, “Not you, Rowan.” You broke slightly at the wobbliness of her voice. You didn’t have much experience with kids—there weren’t many your age in the Capitol—but you were sure that seeing one’s father unconscious on the floor was rattling for anyone.

“He will be fine from the hit. Possible headaches or pain, but it’s not poisoning him.”

You deliberately added the last point to get Otto to start talking. Substance abuse is an ugly post-war scar many in the Capitol bear, so you knew it well. The violet hue of Alreic’s eyes practically spelled out his suffering.

“Morphling?” Arachne questioned as she took in the man’s sickly pale and sweating face. You were quick to refute, still waiting for the right person to start explaining.

“Can’t be. Morphling doesn’t create hallucinations or alter the iris.”

You bore into Otto’s fidgeting eyes as you knew your assumption was the grave truth.

“It is hallucinations, isn’t it?”

Otto was often a level-headed man. He was an observer and was satisfied with simple living. The personalities living within the cabin he called home may not be the easiest of individuals, but he wouldn’t change the way he chose to live his life. Even with all the demons that haunt the shadows along the walls and the eerily silent moments, Otto could live with all the baggage his loved ones, including the very man knocked out on the floor, carried. What he couldn’t handle was some stranger barging into his home and acting as if he was the invader.

“Surprised they don’t teach you to speak your mind in the Capitol, since you’re the ones who control the rest of ours.”

His voice was stoic and icy—the kind of tone that Rowan knew her brother only used when rage burned straight through his sensibility. Something must have occurred for him to speak to someone from the Capitol like that so clearly.

“Well, at least you could guess where I’m from, unlike my name—even though I said repeatedly I wasn’t Cloria.”

“If I told him any different, he would have attacked you!”

“I had a plan!”

“Oh, getting shot, Y/N?!”

“So you do know my name.”

The two of you were in a trance of hardened glares and clenched jaws. Neither one of you was willing to concede to the other. Even if he wasn’t related to you, you both shared an unhealthy amount of stubbornness.

Rowan noticed this similarity and figured you all would be standing there indefinitely if no one intervened. Besides, she was curious to see where this conversation was going.

“We know all your names. Yours, Cloria, your Aunt Floria. Otto, of course. There was also Crassus Snow, and what was his name? Cala? Oh! Casca Highbottom.”

The further along her list went, the more your tough exterior broke. You had a raging vendetta against the last man, but there was no doubt that you were broken because of Highbottom's actions—of what he stole.

You examined Rowan's oddly composed face and behavior. Her mother must have been a beautiful woman. Rowan inherited her lips, full nose, and adorable dimples. She had a light to her. It shone through her eyes, smile, and cheeks. That was fully Rowan.

But those eyes. Those were her father's. They were Embridge. She was Embridge. One of three in the room. One was you. One was your still-unconscious uncle. No room for the lies of “Otto.”

“So you decided to steal Otto's name?”

You could visibly see and figuratively feel the roots of his soft curls being pulled to their last strength. You didn't care. After all you’ve been through, you simply didn’t care about his frustration. You demanded answers, and you weren't going to abandon your chance.

“I didn't steal anything! I was given it. I earned it!”

“Earned it? Earned it?! There is nothing anyone can do to earn my brother's name!”

It was no secret how highly you held your brother and his memory. It is only natural for your old memories to become more favorable to Otto. You only remember the good, and all other protests to that image are incomprehensible.

It was a stubborn position that was rivaled only by the curly-haired man in front of you. He had had enough judgment from a stranger in his own home about a life you knew nothing about.

“The only thing I need to do to earn your brother's name is be a murderer.”

You flinched at his grave and final tone as your eyes brimmed with tears of frustration, anger, and a slight grief you could not submit to. But the man was not yet finished with blows.

“And what would you know about what I have done for your uncle? I have been here for the past nine years! Where were you? I took care of him when he was too intoxicated to function. Where were you?! I accepted the illusion he put on me because it gave him sanity when he had none left. I take care of him, his daughter, and the fragments of his memories. I am the one who is helping him recover. I am the one who feeds and cleans him. I am the one who has been here! WHERE WERE YOU?!”

His knuckles were white with burning rage at your condescension. He never wished for a different life. Perhaps a more improved version of the one he had, but never different. It was not one many would choose, but he would every time, no matter its difficulties. However, to have you saunter in as if he were a fraud was the last crack to break the dam. The dark eyes of the man glared at you, fully expecting you to lash right back but slightly deflated when tears streamed down your cheek. Your jaw was no longer set with offense but trembling along with your chapped lips. Your mouth opened and closed several times, unsure of what to say. What could you say besides the weak and airy “We—I—didn’t know”?

Lucy Gray stepped towards you with a sympathetic look of sorrow dancing in her orbs. Her hand graced your shoulder, but as soon as it touched, you backed away. Your eyes began glossing with ever-regenerating tears that clung to your lashes as you focused solely on the still cold form of your uncle. Arachne noticed that if she didn’t do something, you would slip away in sorrow.

“Y/N—”

“I—I didn’t know. We didn’t know. How did he?”

Your breaths were coming in fast and shallow as you started hyperventilating. Thoughts spiraled and spread while your fingers made their way through your hair out of stress. Arachne made her way to your side, but even in your own spiral, you were swift in evading her.

“Why didn’t he say? What could he possibly want?!” Your voice transformed from panicked whispers to an urgent shriek, fear and agony seeping in. “They would have tried to help! They would have come! Oh, Aunt Fiora! Oh!”

Otto watched in increasing discomfort. Whatever assumptions he had made of you were starting to look misplaced as you paced in a tight box formation, your hands moving downwards from your hair to your face. Red lines grew angrily across your features from your nails. Over and over. Grating your hardened keratin scratches madly at your own face.

Arachne ran to your uncharacteristically behaving form to stop any further irritation. After a combative struggle to capture your hands and keep them away from your face, Arachne had her own tears make an appearance.

Your repetitive attacks had caused silencing red lines to flow across and down your face—your beautiful and bright face, she thought. Arachne didn’t know if the heavy tears washing away the blood were a relief or fuel to the fire. If only you had a glimpse of yourself. You looked near identical to the last final moments of your Aunt Fiora—the one brought to madness by the death of the sleeping yet living man before you.

Chest heaving heavily, scratches burning, and existence crashing, you needed to leave immediately. Your feet planted you on the floor, even as your knees started to buckle from the weight of reality. Arachne forced your movement by dragging your arm, your dazed being following blindly. Her rapid steps were a force to be reckoned with, and one you could only clumsily follow as you were hauled past a troubled Lucy Gray and into the vast woods.

You made it far enough that you were covered by trees on all sides and no longer in view of the decrepit cabin when you collapsed once more. Your fingers traced the transformation of the dirt turning into mud beneath them. Arachne tried her best to comfort you by rubbing circles on your back, though she was painfully lacking experience. The sun began setting, casting an orange glow over your mirage of heartbreak. Somewhere through your sobs, you managed to pour out words that had been festering.

“I miss him so, so much.”

Arachne didn’t hesitate to continue her attempts at comfort as you continued to cry.

“Otto would be so proud of who you are.”

“I meant Coryo.”

The name caused pause in the redhead's hands and heart. You’ve just gone through so much, and you are thinking about him?

“He wou-would know what to do,” you choked out the words. “He would have known exactly what to do. I miss him so much.”

It was an understatement to you. It was more than longing. It was emptiness. A piece of your being forcibly amputated, leaving you unbalanced.

Your eyes were still a haze of blazing tears, trained on the darkening ground. With your back towards her, you missed Arachne’s own pain. She was always intelligent, cunning, and cold. So why did she become dumb, soft, and warm for the one whose heart would never skip a beat when she walked into a room? For the one who was happy before and after life without her? The one who, when they called out a name, it wasn’t hers.

She knew better than to let herself get hurt by your words. Arachne even actively tried to ensure anything but your love decaying. Yet, emotion was a parasite, and she couldn't stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth.

“You have me.”

Her tone was wounded, which caused you to turn around and squeeze her hand in thanks. Your eyes were bloodshot and foreign to her, but the warmth was there, albeit slightly distant.

“Thank you, Ara.”

It should have been enough. There was nothing more to it for you. But Arachne never stopped when it came to you.

“But I’m not the same.”

Arachne cursed herself for looking back at you. Watching the radiating snowflakes on the ring you fidgeted with shine daggers into her heart. Witnessing the confused frown etch itself on your face, waiting for a recognition of her meaning that never reached you.

“Why would you be the same?”

You didn’t mean to hurt her, a fact she knows far too well. Yet, it seems whenever you act with love, it only cuts her deeper—the specific adoration that will never be directed to her. Even with a sentence of decades away from you, your heart refuses to change its target of affection. She couldn’t trust her mouth to answer that question, afraid of what she might reveal and burn. Her saving grace came in the sweet honey voice of Lucy Gray.

“Y/N! Oh, there you are!” Her breath was haggard, and her hair tousled, clear signs of her rush to find you. “I am so sorry; he isn’t usually like that, I swear to you!”

“Which one exactly?” Your tone had a bite to it, foreign to your often sweet tongue. Lucy Gray flinched at your voice. You had already turned your back to start walking in the vague vicinity of the barracks.

“She isn’t usually like that either.” Arachne tried to defend you, which was understandable enough for the singer.

They both picked up their pace to catch up with your blazing trail. Lucy Gray was offering to walk you both back, to which you both agreed, albeit silently. You were not in the mood for conversation or company, but you knew that neither you nor Arachne had any idea where you were going. Tears still rolled down your face as you walked, but they were drying up as anger burned through them. Arachne slipped back into her usual impenetrable persona. Lucy Gray felt helpless.

“Highbottom told me what happened. What Coryo did.”

Your steps didn’t falter. Your eyes were cemented forward, the evening sun setting your skin alight. The last of your tears had dried upon your still-reddened cheeks.

“Saving your life?”

Lucy Gray knew she was stepping on shaky ground with you now, but she hoped from that night with Coriolanus that you were really the person he said you were. She treaded on with the conversation you clearly wanted no part of.

“He told me that he broke the rules, so they sent him to Eight.”

Arachne’s chestnut eyes bore into the side of your illuminated head, but you were stoic. It was frightening to her.

“So he is.”

Your voice was grated. Your scratches still burned against the open air. The ground beneath your feet even looked like it was breaking slightly more beneath the weight of your fury. You knew what Lucy Gray wanted to know. If you were in your right state of mind, you would never have been acting the way you were. Yet you couldn’t stop the parasite of emotion and pain from overtaking you. The brunette, perhaps foolishly, placed her hand upon your shoulder, causing you to stop and turn. Your sore and reddened eyes met her large and sympathetic ones. You didn’t throw off her hand.

“What did you do for him to get here?”

You flinched slightly. It was terrifying how this practical stranger knew of your sacrifice. You looked towards Arachne, who was lost in her own world of pain as it was yet another reminder of your relentless devotion to another. You sucked in a breath and looked back at the waiting girl.

“I told Highbottom I was the one who did it.”

You gently moved her hand off you and walked somberly on. The sun was getting ever closer to the ground, and you and Arachne needed to get back urgently. Lucy Gray stood there a moment as you and Arachne walked ahead. Coriolanus was not wrong about you.

⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆

Dusk had overtaken the sky by the time you made it back to the barracks. You ushered a quick goodbye to Lucy Gray and returned to your room in unsteady silence with Arachne. She watched as you kept your head down to avoid any attention to your concerning appearance. However, she did notice a certain hazel-eyed Peacekeeper looking longer than the rest. Arachne cursed herself repeatedly in her head as you got ready for bed, completely mute. Why did she ever let you go? But then again, your ghosts would have found you anyway.

Darkness overtook your shared chambers as you both stared up at the ceiling. This wasn’t unexpected for Arachne. She hadn’t been able to sleep properly since the Dark Days. Not that anyone could tell. As with everything else, she was able to hide it well. Your mind swirled with the day’s events. You knew you needed to take the time to comprehend it all, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. At least not alone. Not with anyone besides the platinum-haired boy who overtook your mind. For your entire life, you always thought of the person you loved the most before sleep. It was first your brother. His smile was what you woke up to for your entire life. Reality for the first few years. Memory for the rest. For a short time, it was your mother’s sweet words and warm hugs. Then it was him.

Images of his pearly white smile sleeping on the bug-infested floor of his crumbling apartment so you could get a semblance of comfort on his undersized bed were common and comforting. It hit you that you might one day forget the stench of cabbage that wafted through the ancient hallway of his home. That you might forget the cracks on the wall that created a mosaic that mesmerized you while you waited for him to get ready. You swore you would never forget him, and you wouldn’t. Couldn’t. But what if you forgot all the reasons you loved him and he you?

“You are going to see him again. I swear to you.”

Arachne’s voice was clear and authoritative, yet the most genuine you’d heard. She still didn’t look at you, even though she could feel your gaze. You said nothing and returned to your former position. Sleep overtook you as you thought of your very complicated Arachne.

⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆

The next morning brought with it warm sun rays that cast shadows from the trees facing the light. You woke up before Arachne and got ready while she fidgeted in her sleep. Struggle was evident, and even in sleep, you could see the bags beneath her eyes. Unfortunately, you both needed to make good first impressions, even if those here were technically below your standing as Capitol citizens. A good thing that your scratches from yesterday healed significantly, now only slight lines. Arachne’s bruise was another story but her fierce gaze was more tha enough to silence questioning. Your main worry was getting to your orientation on time.

“Ara, time to wake up.” Absolutely nothing.

You could have tried a second time or lightly shaken her awake, but you were in the mood for some fun. Pillow in hand and grin on face, you started plummeting the poor girl with the feathered item until her shrieks were heard, followed by your laughter.

You backed off as you came face to face with her very grouchy glare, to which you could only innocently smile with all teeth showing.

“Glad to see you are the embodiment of sunshine again.”

“And same to see you as sour as a lemon. Your nice act freaked me out.”

You settled back on your made bed as she got up and ready. She gave you a light snarl, which you took proudly. After yesterday’s events, you were unsure where you stood with her or really anyone. But to your relief, Arachne was willing to let it go for now and get back to your rekindled friendship, which came along with its fold of bickering and friendly taunts.

The two of you were eating your breakfast in the cafeteria—well, Arachne was trying to.

“Stop picking at it, Ara. Just close your eyes and suck it up.”

Looking at the gray gooey substance that was supposed to pass as nutrients, even you were slightly unsure.

“I think it might suck me up instead.”

You were going to retort with another plea for her to eat her food when a tray setting down next to you was heard. The hazel-eyed and kind-smiled boy you met in the registration line yesterday gave you a sweet “good morning!” Arachne looked between you two with suspicion, especially at the brown-haired boy who just made himself welcome at her table. She looked at his uniform and weapons on his belt, and it was clear he was a Peacekeeper. They were roomed with three other trainees, so he clearly had acquaintances to sit with. Yet here he was, looking at you in a way that made her stomach churn.

“Did they kick you out of their group already?”

At her cold and flat tone, the boy suddenly seemed to realize that you weren’t alone. He sheepishly turned toward the glare of Arachne Crane. His eyes sold away his confusion at her words. Before any more cryptic and surely rude words could spurt from her lips, you stepped in.

“Ignore Arachne, she has the unfortunate case of being herself.” Her snort was loud and a signal to the young man.

He turned away hesitantly from the still squinting ginger. He picked at his food as he tried to explain himself.

“Sorry to barge in. I actually get along with my fellow keepers; just thought I could also extend friendship to the researchers here too. Besides, I never got to know your name.”

You smiled softly at him (causing an internal gag from Arachne) and laughed (a melodious sound to the young man).

“Well, you never told me yours either, did you?”

He smiled downwards at his food and nodded, knowing you got him there. His hazel eyes flashed to you beneath his lashes. “Cassian Slate.”

“Y/N Vaun.”

“Arachne Crane. Wonderful, we are all the greatest of friends. You spread friendship to both sides of the barracks and solved world peace. You can leave now.”

A reprimanding look was sent her way by you but thoroughly ignored as she stared daggers into this Cassian. He huffed a breath and got the hint as he started picking up his food. You attempted to try and stop him, but he assured you it was no problem.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll see you again. It’s a small district after all.”

Cassian flashed a charming smile and made his way to his peers, who welcomed him warmly. When you turned back to face Arachne, she had her eyes closed as her spoon trembled on its way to her lips.

“Well, aren’t you the social butterfly?”

“I like my personal space.”

You took a look around at the long metal table that only you and Arachne occupied. There was an awkward amount of empty space.

The goo that passed for yogurt finally made its way past her lips and just as fast, out and into a napkin. You heaved a breath and took your empty tray and hers to throw out while she tried to wash away the taste with water. She was still gagging and squinting in disgust as you were walking out and into the research center.

“Remember, you chose this.”

“Stop holding it over my head, would you?”

You smirked slightly as you turned toward the front where an elderly man with tanned skin and gray eyes addressed the rest of the scientists. The lot was briefed on your positions and jobs, of which you were thankfully paired with Arachne. Your jobs were to capture a specific type of mixed breed: the mockingjay. Pictures and descriptions of the hybrid were taught to your decently sized group. Several pairs were to scavenge separate woods all over the district. You and Arachne were assigned to the southern part of the forest by your barracks. The very same area where your Uncle Aleric lived.

When you all were dismissed to grab your equipment and get started, Arachne fell into step with you. “Some luck you have.”

You shook your head and grabbed a cart full of cages. “We have weeks to cover the ground; we don’t have to deal with it today.”

And you didn’t. Your treks didn’t get you too deeply, which meant you didn’t find many mockingjays. However, that doesn’t mean you didn’t find any. The first one you found, you were fascinated. You walked softly towards the small bird, expecting it to fly away. Instead, it stood its ground and bore its dark orbs into your own. A light “hello” went past your lips. Then it was returned to you by the bird, which caused a surprised laugh to tumble its way out of your lungs. Slowly, your laugh bounced off the trees and overtook the chirping of the woods. A chorus of your giggles was repeated and amplified by the swirling mockingjays above your head. It went from a spectacle to a mocking sensation. You felt unsettled by the never-ending sound. Over and over again. All at once, it was silenced. In a large net cast by Arachne, a gaggle of the mockingjays tried to escape. The rest flew away in fright. Arachne looked from the birds to you with a grimace.

“I did not sign up for that.”

You readily nodded your head in agreement and helped her get the birds in their cages to take back. As you walked away, the further you got from the mockingjays, you were too far to realize they picked up from where they left off, your laughter still ringing. It rang until it hit the ears of the one aching for it.

⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆

It had been a week of venturing through the trees and capturing the odd creatures. You had yet to set foot off the barrack grounds and into the actual district, as you kept yourself occupied with your work—a trait Arachne was quick to taunt you on. “Always the overachiever,” she would say under her breath as you studied the few sources of biological components of the hybrids. However, no matter how much time it took, Arachne was fine being stuck inside because she would be stuck with you—a version of you she was sure was lost after all you’ve endured.

Your comfortable routine inside was abruptly interrupted by the sudden knock on your gray-paneled door. You looked up from your papers and Arachne from yet another book, sharing a confused glance. Arachne surely made no move to build connections with others, and while you had been friendly, nothing of true meaning had formed. Well, besides Cassian, but you had seen very little of him due to his much more intense peacekeeper duties. After yet another hard knock, you snapped out of your daze and made your way to the noise. In front of you stood one of your peers with a blinding smile. Anya, a pretty caramel-skinned girl with a sickle-like birthmark below her right eye, was nearly bouncing off the walls in excitement.

“We’ve been given leave passes for the weekend! All of us are going to the Hob, and you guys should join!”

Arachne had joined you and peeked over your shoulder at the girl. She had no interest in “connecting” with your peers, but she did want to see Twelve and really learn the livelihoods here. Whatever was going on in the cabin of your uncle’s was certainly not normal. Well, she hoped not. Her chestnut eyes picked up on your lips starting to form an excuse when she cut you off.

“We’ll be there.”

You turned to her satisfied smirk in betrayal. Then the reminder of her reasoning for being here came to your mind. She did want to make her own opinion of the districts, and she couldn’t do that always being locked up in a Capitol-funded barrack and center. Anya paid your little tiff no mind as she lowered her voice yet elevated her enthusiasm.

“I heard peacekeepers are gonna be there too if you know what I mean.” She giggled sweetly at the scandalized thought. You slightly gaped at her words, a thought that thoroughly disgusted you because the only one you wanted to see was hundreds of miles away from you. Arachne raised her eyebrows with arms crossed and a leveled icy gaze.

“They aren’t allowed to take a partner, isn’t that right?”

She laughed yet again, a noise that Arachne later compared to metal grazing metal. Her dark roots shook around her head in amused disagreement. “Well, who said anything about a relationship.”

A snippy “mhm” and a rushed goodbye from you, and the door was firmly shut in the poor girl’s face. You tried to claw your way to the door but were effectively blocked by Arachne as she urged you to get ready instead. “She will be fine, now let’s go.”

You changed into a simple yet elegant blue dress that you hoped wouldn’t catch too many people's attention with its expensive fabric and detailing. Arachne donned a beautiful pair of dark brown pants and an intricately designed black blouse. As you both looked at each other, there was an agreement: you desperately needed to go shopping to get clothes to fit in. The journey to the famed Hob wasn’t too tedious or long, and even if it was, your attention was elsewhere. You knew your gaping and wandering eyes would only bring more attention, but you couldn’t stop it. How could the Capitol and Twelve be in the same country, much less the same world? Smoke and coal clouds colored the sky, even in the darkening sky. Yet, with all the gloom in the sky, the land was covered with a surprising amount of smiles as you entered the Hob. If they could not have the privilege you were unfairly born with, at least they could have this little slice of peace.

The music was blasting and seeped through your bones. Even if you didn’t intend to enjoy your night out too much, you couldn’t stop the smile bursting upon your lips as you spotted Lucy Gray on the stage. She looked happy. At home. Alive. Somehow, of the several hundreds crowding up the dancefloor and bar, she spotted you. Her smile faltered at the memory of your last interaction, but your expression gave her ease. A wink and a grin were flashed back at you before she turned her attention to the rest of the crowd. Arachne, unsurprisingly, pushed her way through, and you could only murmur apologies as you made your way past. Finding a small unoccupied table across the back wall, you both opted in on people-watching. Your eyes wandered across the pairs of people dancing and jumping across the floor. Coal-covered hands and snuffed noses be damned, they were having a time of pure joy. The beat, energy, and enthusiasm of the group inspired you with an idea.

Arachne was hypnotized with watching the door and especially with the arrival of a horde of peacekeepers. Her neck craned ever so slightly, as if looking for someone. Though, her view was blocked by your shining eyes and outstretched hand. The girl’s ever-quizzical eyes scanned your movement. No time was wasted for an answer as you grabbed her hand and dragged her out to the dancefloor.

“Hey!”

Your head was tipped backwards as you cackled at her stiff movements and reluctance to move. Neither of you knew the dance moves of the locals, obviously, but you just grabbed her hands anyway and forced her to move from side to side. The pair of you looked ridiculous as you spun and eventually started jumping around, but you didn’t care. You had gotten the icy-cold Arachne Crane smiling and dancing in District Twelve of all places. For the first time in weeks, your mind had finally cleared, if only for a moment before a silky voice burst in.

“May I have a turn?”

Cassian stood there with a charming grin and dapper dimples on full display. If you didn’t know he was from Two, you would have fully believed he was a Capitol charmer. He stared at you expectantly, but Arachne, as always, had other plans.

“Oh, I would absolutely love to!”

The false enthusiasm was painfully clear, but she grabbed his arm anyway and forcibly tugged him into the center of the dancing and sweating throng of bodies. He looked back to you in alarm while you stared at the back of Arachne’s auburn locks in confusion. What game was she playing at?

No matter, as you suddenly felt the parchedness of your throat. You made your way back towards the bar for a simple glass of water. The most astonishing thing of the night should have been seeing Arachne Crane jumping alongside District Twelve coal miners. But instead, you came face to face with Otto. He nearly dropped the glass he was serving to an impatient customer when he spotted you. A quick apology and huff by the customer, and his full attention was on you. The two of you stood frozen, unsure how to interact after what happened last time. Your often quick-witted brain was halted upon the bile of regret crawling its way up.

“I see you are without your guard dog.”

It took you far too long to realize he was speaking to you civilly and without judgment, well, at least towards you.

“She is busy making someone else miserable, so you are in the clear.” He, much to your relief, laughed and indicated with a tip of his head for you to sit down. Otto was drying off some chipped cups with a ratty towel as you got settled. He asked for your drink of preference and gave you an amused smile when you just wished for water. The color of the substance was a bit off from what you were used to back in the Capitol, but you thanked him nonetheless. Lucy Gray’s soothing voice took up and away any awkwardness between you two as she enthralled you both. Otto’s dark eyes were fully mesmerized by the glowing singer as you studied his features. He was nothing close to your brother on the outside. But maybe you had been too quick to rush judgment on his character.

“I am sorry for acting the way I did and the damage I caused. I am not usually like that. I’ve actually never been like that. I, uhm—”

“I know. I don’t know you, but I could tell something was off. That was before what Lucy Gray told me. I guess I have to say sorry for lashing out too.”

You were quick to refuse as you thought he had all the right—more than you anyhow. He was right when he said he was there for your uncle, even if you didn’t have a choice. The conviction behind your words stopped any further argument upon his tongue. Once again, all conversation ceased to the magnetic Lucy Gray Baird. It was Otto’s turn to take you in.

“Kane. Kane Thatcher.”

You tilted your head, utterly lost at the meaning of his words.

“My name. The real one.” His voice was muttered and mumbled as he confessed. The dark eyes of his avoided yours, but you were patient for them to make their way back to you. You tilted forward, and sincerity painted all your fine features.

“Thank you...Kane.”

He didn’t like his born name, but it didn’t sound too bad from you. It was understandable why you didn’t want to use “Otto,” but he hoped one day, you would be able to. His attention was split from you as several more peacekeepers made their way through, and you swore

you saw a familiar shade of blonde. Hoping for a distraction, you shook your head and turned back to Otto—Kane? Otto? Yet once again, he was hypnotized by the girl on stage. You shifted your line of sight to his and watched a soft smile play upon her lips as he caught Lucy Gray’s eye—a smile just for him. And he could tell too, as he looked down bashfully with a full blush and broad smile. Clearly forgetting you were there, you wasted no time.

“That must have been the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”

His eyes widened at your words and the realization that you were a firsthand witness to his clear infatuation. You could only beam at him, smoothing out any tension between the two of you. Unfortunately, all sweetness in the room was cut short by the very unwelcome shout of Billy Taupe.

“Lucy Gray!”

You turned your head and saw the scruffy man who had effectively sent Lucy Gray to a death sentence for his own mistakes. Following him was a high-pitched girl with short red hair and a nasty scowl.

“Billy Taupe!” The man scurried his way towards the brunette, who was obviously uncomfortable with his presence. He paid no mind to the girl who he now called his girlfriend, Mayfair.

“You’re sounding kind of thin, Lucy Gray. You’re all sounding thin without me, no?”

“Billy! You swore you wouldn’t play with them again, Billy Taupe.”

Stomping up to the raggedy man, Mayfair was in for a surprise as she was pushed aside harshly. You got up in surprise as Otto tensed. Billy was getting closer to Lucy Gray while she tried to urge the crowd to calm down. She wasn’t able to do the same as he got closer and closer to her. You turned to Otto, who had a special kind of fury burning in his dark orbs—one you’d only seen in Coriolanus Snow. In the arena.

“You going to do something, or am I?”

Otto gave you one last look as he started making his long and determined strides towards Billy, who had now grabbed the skirt of Lucy Gray.

“I know you miss me, Lucy Gray!”

“Get your hands off me right now! Get your hands off me, Billy Taupe. After what you did to me, you get your hands off me right now, or I swear I will take a snake and—”

“Don’t touch her!”

And with that, Otto’s fist flew and hit the target of Billy’s face with a deafening smash. They tumbled to the floor, with Otto pinning the offender to the ground and relentlessly hitting him. He knew he would be facing the wrath of the peacekeepers soon enough, but it was worth it. Soon enough, the men and women who were expecting a day off were trying to break up a fight. You scanned for Arachne; the last you saw her, she was close to the action, but instead, you saw a hallucination. That’s what it must have been. There was no way that Coriolanus Snow was only mere feet away from you. Your Coryo. He was trying to get his own hits on Billy but was stopped by Sejanus. Sejanus too? Coryo’s infamous blonde head, albeit shaven, lifted and the eyes that haunted your mind met yours. Across the horde of violence, you saw the love of your life. Your breath started coming in quick and heavy breaths. You couldn’t tell if it was real or not. Of course it wasn’t; Coryo should have been in Eight. The battle between reality and vision was interrupted as you were collateral damage of a shove by a very muscular and shaven man. You stumbled and almost collapsed before an arm latched onto yours.

“Let’s get out of here while we can, Ace.”

You let Arachne tow you to safety; the night air of Twelve. She intended to walk straight back to the barracks before any trouble followed you, but you pulled her to a halt. Her eyes rolled as she tried to urge you forward.

“Come on, Ace. I don’t want to find out what will happen if we don’t get back in time.”

“I saw him. I saw Coryo.”

All resistance was broken when his name was breathed out by you. She expected you to start smiling and jumping for joy, but all she received was a hollowed look.

“He wasn’t real. I’m losing it, Ara. I’m seeing things. I’m getting sick too often. Something is happening to me and—”

Arachne silenced your despair as she crushed you in a hug. You were stiff but eventually started melting as tears rained down. You were so sick of the tears, the sickness, all of it. She never let go as she comforted you.

“What if you weren’t seeing things, Ace?”

While she tried to offer comfort, you pushed her away with a look of disgust and betrayal.

“I am losing it, Arachne, and you’re just playing into it?!”

“What?! No, Y/N—”

“He isn’t here, I know that! Whatever you’re trying to play at, leave me and especially him out of it! Don’t—don’t give me that hope.” You stared her down even as you broke down. Arachne felt herself cracking with you. She knew you weren’t well, but she hated that you felt it yourself—that you fully believed you were deluded to see hallucinations. The moonlight illuminated your tear-stricken yet still stunning face. She didn’t know if you would accept or if her plan would actually work, but she tenderly whispered out for you to follow her.

The auburn-haired girl turned around and didn’t fully expect you to follow, but, to her relief, you did. You were unsure why exactly, but you were so exhausted you had no fight left in you. Besides, you didn’t want to be on the streets by yourself.

Though, you would not be on the streets for long as you quickly entered a section of the vast woods. Arachne walked through as if she were an expert, even in the moonlight. Your march led the two of you to an opening with a flowered field and a large spiraled tree. It was beautiful, but your mind and heart had no room for beauty. You had truly thought you had gotten even the slightest bit better, but tonight was only a reinforcement of your “brokenness.”

You continued following Arachne to the middle of the field, right beneath the tree. The moonlight was above you, lighting up the entire scenery. She let out a sigh as her eyes returned to you after a quick scan of the area.

“Act as if I am Coriolanus. What would you say to him?”

You blankly stared at her. What in the world? A scoff came from you at her words.

“I mean it, Ace. What would you say?”

“Arachne, I’m not in the mood—”

“Come on, Y/N.”

How was she acting as if you were the weird one for not wanting to pour your heart out for a pretend version of the other half of your being? You threw your hands up in defeat. Sometimes there was no arguing with Arachne, and this was certainly one of those times.

“Why do you even care?!”

“Y/N, please—”

“Okay, fine! I would say that I hate him for his stupid cleverness. I would say that I love and curse his determination. I would shout about how easily he let himself be shipped away from his family—from me.” Your voice was cracking with emotion. “I would be pulling my hair because I would be so frustrated and overwhelmed with how much I love him and the pain that’s caused me because I can’t! Every time we get a moment of happiness, it gets shattered and battered. I would yell at the universe for trying to pull us apart and cry out why he let it happen!”

Arachne felt her heart shatter, piece by piece. It pierced her flesh, and the salt of her inhaled tears seeped in. She asked for this. She caused this. She wants this. She wants this. She forces herself to accept that. If she can’t be the one causing you madness from love, then shouldn’t she be the one to at least give you what you actually want? She will eventually be satisfied enough with having that part in your happiness and love.

She wonders if it is worth it, but no matter how selfish she wants to be, she knows it is when a branch breaks behind you. You spin towards the intruder, and you could physically feel the blood flowing in your veins stop.

There he was. Shaven hair, a far more muscular and fitted frame, and dog tags adorned his neck. But those same glorious eyes. Your imagination must have been extremely detailed, or the impossible was true.

“I will let you yell at me for the rest of our days as long as I can hear your voice.”

You didn’t want to believe it. You shouldn’t have. It wasn’t real. Over and over again, that voice of rationality shrieked at you, but yet your feet took cautious steps. He waited patiently, anticipating having you in his arms once more but couldn’t afford startling you. You made it right in front of him when your hands, shaking, rose slowly to his slightly tanned face. When they touched flesh, you felt your heart nearly rip from your chest. Your fingers moved across his fine cheekbones over and over again as you couldn’t believe it. Tears blurred his handsome face, but for once, you welcomed them. Your cheeks burned with the severity of your smile, but you could be bleeding and you wouldn’t care. He was there.

His rough-textured hands covered your own as he joined your beautiful laughter. You were there. You giggled, cackled, and cried while never letting go of him, not that he would let you. All your hysterics were let out as you finally took in his somehow far more grown yet charming features. You took each detail in, committing it to memory. Something Coryo noticed and was adamant to stop because he never wants to be in your memories again. He wants to be your reality. His hands brushed away stray pieces of hair as he took a good hold of you.

His eyes traced every little mark on your radiant face—one he was determined to make his first and last thought while always being his current moment. At once, his all-consuming eyes fluttered closed while he leaned towards you, consuming you. His lips were gentle as they melted into your own, and the only force was yours as you kissed back. Your hand snaked behind his neck while his traveled to your hips. Repeated quick pecks turned into elongated stolen kisses.

Time hadn’t been a concept for you since you laid eyes on him, but some must have passed as you pulled away, flushed and out of breath. Your foreheads were still connected along with your arms around each other. Peace had finally found its way back into your life as you found yourself in Coryo’s embrace.

“So you really love me, huh?”

⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆

@notyourwildestdream 🌹@darktrashsoulbear🌹@fantasylovestoryme 🌹@nekee-lilac02 🌹@a-avengerparker🌹 @queenofshinigamis 🌹@darlingisntit🌹 @scarletstarrs 🌹