#lucy gray Drabble
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msmk11 · 2 months ago
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Lucy Gray Baird x gn!reader
CW: angst, unrequited pining
A/n: wrote this ages ago but i finished it now cuz this is me- pining after someone who’s talking to a man. This has happened before. I only like emotionally unavailable people. But I love lucy gray sm anyways so pls enjoy
Summary: you want Lucy Gray, but her eyes have been caught by someone else
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“Maude Ivory said I’d find you here.”
“She promised she’d keep it a secret if I gave her my ration of cake tonight,” you sigh, eyes never leaving the sprawling lake lapping against the rocky shore.
You feel Lucy Gray sit next to you, “she’s happier with two pieces than one, which is why she accepted my bribe too.”
An amused huff escapes you as you fiddle with the grass beneath your hands, “so much for her word.”
The brunette hums amusedly, “I reckon when I was her age I would’ve valued the sweet temptation of cake over the honor of my word.”
You nod, pulling strands of dandelions from the earth and twisting them slowly into a braid. The work is easy and familiar but distracts you from the presence of the sweet soul next to you.
“Are you ever going to look at me the same again?”
Her voice is so soft, but so full of anxiety, hesitance, and suffering.
“You know it wasn’t my choice…. Killing those children. I- I was just trying to survive and to-“
“To help Coriolanus win his prize….I know.”
You look at Lucy Gray and hope your heart isn’t betrayed in your eyes, “I’m not mad at you for what you did in the games. I’m not disgusted nor do I hate you. You mistake me entirely.”
Her chocolate brown eyes scan your face, searching for the answer to your distance…. To your recent indifference.
“Sweetheart, please tell me what’s wrong. What I’ve done, so I can fix this. You’re my dearest friend, and I hate that you feel so distant.”
Friend. Friend friend friend friend friend.
You look away again, “you’ve done nothing wrong Lucy Gray, swear.”
“Well something’s different,” she huffs softly.
Her hand reaches out and brushes over your jawline, “will you look at me?”
You shake your head.
“Please.”
You can never say no to the songbird, the captor of your heart. Your eyes meet her soft brown ones and your heart flutters.
“Everything is different and yet nothing has changed.”
“Well, sweetheart, that certainly clears things up,” she drawls, her dark brows furrowing unimpressed.
“I don’t view you any different. I’m no different than before. But things… they’re different for you. You’re different…. You’re more skittish now, and always a little distant, like your head is somewhere else. With someone else.”
Lucy Gray blushes softly and your heart aches. You wish you were the cause of such a pretty picture, rather than that man. That boy. From the Capitol. Snow. You don’t really know what she sees in him. But, you suppose, danger brings people together in strange ways. Tears them apart too.
“I invited Coriolanus to join us here tomorrow.”
“I heard,” you answer hoarsely.
She looks at you intently, “Do you not like him?”
“I- it’s not that. I’m just protective of my… friends.”
“You know I don’t trust just anyone,” Lucy Gray says softly, eyes trying to catch yours, “I promise he’s trustworthy.”
A lump catches in your throat, one the size of a rock. You nod, “Okay, I trust you.”
Her pink lips smile softly at you and she presses a kiss to your hairline, “thank you for understanding. And know you can talk to me about anything.”
If only she were right.
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slaymitchabernathy · 3 months ago
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coriolanus snow definitely has this cup.
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lqveharrington · 2 years ago
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Winter Gala | C.S.
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summary: Coriolanus’ first winter gala as Panem’s President and your first winter gala as First Lady.
pairing: young, president!coriolanus snow x fem, first lady!reader
includes: literally just fluff and kissing. (and some hints to reader being pregnant.)
a/n: some winter love for my favorite (aka coryo bb)
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“Don’t you look gorgeous, my First Lady.” Coriolanus wraps his arms around your waist as you clip your earrings on, smiling at him through the mirror.
“You look pretty handsome yourself, Mr. President.” You turn in his arms and lace your own behind his neck, eyes flickering around his face. “First winter gala as the President, Coryo. That’s exciting.”
He lowers his arms down to your hips, placing a chaste kiss to your lips. “Let’s give them a night to remember.”
You let one hand drift to his lips, wiping some of the lipstick off. “Perfect.”
Truly, everything in the Snow Manor was perfect. The help decorated the walls and halls with the lights you deemed the best, and the cooks made the most delicious foods for those to come eat. There were christmas trees present in almost every room, with waiters holding champagne glasses on silver platers. Coriolanus and yourself made sure everything was perfect for the first winter gala as President of Panem.
All of those who held status in the Capitol were invited, along with the past district mentors whom you both attended classes with. There was press inside and unwanted paparazzi outside, immediately becoming the talk of those who arrived to the manor.
As the Snow manor filled with distinguished guests, you were hooked around Coriolanus’ arm like a beautiful trophy, conversing with only those you wanted to.
“It’s wonderful to see you again, Livia.” You give her your best smile, removing yourself from your husband to give her a brief hug. “I’m sure Festus has been a pain, as usual.”
“Don’t say that.” She quietly laughed, giving her own husband a glance before looking at the manor in awe and grabbing two champagne glasses of a server’s plate. “Here.”
“Oh no, thank you.” You decline politely, folding your hands together.
“Suit yourself.” She placed one back onto another plater. “The place looks wonderful. The lighting is everything.”
“Thank you. I do love a—“
“Excuse me, ladies, but could I borrow my wife for a bit? It’s time for my speech.” Coriolanus cut in, sneaking an arm around your waist.
Livia nodded, gesturing toward you. “Of course.”
You give her one last smile before following Coriolanus. Sure, you wanted to converse with old classmates, but as the most popular couple in Panem, you had other duties to tend to.
“See Tigris yet?” You murmur in his direction as you ascend the stairs, Coriolanus’ hand placed on the small of your back.
He shook his head, “She didn’t show. She called and said she was busy with work.”
“That’s too bad. I was hoping to speak to her about an important matter.” You frown and mumble the last bit, your ringed hand lightly moving to your stomach. “Anyway, you must mention how you were delighted to see everyone come here today.”
“Of course, I will. You think I don’t remember that, beautiful?” He kissed your cheek as you reached the balcony looking over the foyer. “Ready?”
“Always.” You lace hands with him.
Coriolanus instructed someone to shut the main lights off and flash the spot light on you both, earning awed noises from the crowd below.
“Thank you all for coming to our first winter gala!” Coriolanus started and got applause from those in the audience.
He went on to thanking everyone who came and spoke about his time as President, calling out those who helped him win the election.
“And of course, I would not have done this all with my lovely wife. Give it up for her, yeah?” He spoke, your name flawlessly living his lips. You flush from the praise but wave to the people below, squeezing Coriolanus’ hand.
“Want to say anything?” He murmured as the applause quieted. You shook your head, resting your hand on your stomach again.
Coriolanus kissed your cheek once more before wrapping up his speech, raising his glass as a final gesture. Everyone else followed suit, your own glass of water being lifted.
“Wonderful speech, my love.” You show your pearly whites as he whisked you away to a hallway.
“That’s because you wrote it, darling.” He met your lips, feeling your grin widen in the kiss.
You let one hand rest on his chest while the other comes around to his neck, Coriolanus’ hands firm on your waist.
“I love you.” You mumble in between kisses, holding your urge to not slide your fingers through his slicked back hair.
He squeezes your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. “I love you more.”
read more about coriolanus here !!
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©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms
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ydsurluvhsm · 3 months ago
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team natsu vs one sleeping erza (they lose)
it’s early team natsu era. one tent. one bedroll too few. they’re all stacked like badly packed luggage in this tiny canvas triangle and lucy’s about to lose it. happy’s drooling on her arm. gray kicked off his blanket again. natsu’s curled up and radiating heat like a busted radiator and breathing directly into her neck. she can’t sleep.
but she would suffer through it—she loves these idiots, after all—if it weren’t for erza.
erza, who lies perfectly still for hours… until about 3am hits.
then she starts twitching. mumbling.
then comes the foot. it smacks natsu directly in the stomach.
lucy: “is she… awake?”
natsu, wheezing: “nope.”
“for the guild…” erza mutters. and suddenly she’s in full-on combat mode—mid-dream, clearly protecting them from some imaginary threat. only, her sleep-fighting form? flawless. horrifying. lucy barely dodges a flailing arm. gray gets smacked square in the jaw. happy is launched across the tent.
they try shaking her awake. doesn’t work. she’s re-equipping in her sleep now. lucy can’t tell if she should be impressed or terrified. (both. it’s both.)
gray mumbles something about “never camping again” before going limp. natsu’s already knocked out from the first kick. it’s just lucy now. lucy versus sleeping erza. the final boss.
“erza please,” she whispers. “it’s a tent. there’s nothing to protect us from. go back to sleep.”
“for the guild,” erza breathes, smiling. she clutches her pillow like a sword. she calms.
lucy stares at the ceiling, wide awake, and mutters: “i’m sleeping in the cart next time.”
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ransprang · 2 years ago
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Coriolanus x Fem!reader NSFW HCs
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1. Coriolanus goes feral when called daddy in bed, and when you moan his name breathlessly when he tops.
2. Corio likes to spank you, especially on the days he’s extra stressed. He likes slapping and choking you during sex. He doesn’t mind when you leave visible marks by scratching his back either.
3. He likes it when you suck his cock and choke on it, he feels powerful and in charge.
4. Coriolanus likes to slap your face with his penis, when you’re down on your knees looking up into his eyes before you give him a sloppy toppy.
5. Corio loves to fuck you with your legs on his shoulders, he loves pounding you till you’re screaming his name.
6. When you ride him he starts to pump you from the bottom till you come and get super sensitive.
7. He bites your nipples when you ride him while straddling. He loves it when your face turns red from the overstimulation all thanks to him.
8. Corio likes to mark you, show the world you are his. He loves to leave hickeys on your neck, biting and sucking on your neck before having sex.
9. He looks deeply in your eyes after sex as Corio neatens out your hair and tucks them away from your sweaty face. He wants to see you.
10. Coriolanus gets up and brings water for both of you after a few minutes of cooldown.
yours overstimmingly,
admin sav
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theaawalker · 2 years ago
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I Promise [Finnick Odair x Reader]
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Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader Song Inspo: About You Now by Miranda Cosgrove Word Count: 829 Series: 1 | 2 | ? Summary: a day of fishing brings reminiscence for you and Finnick. District 4 never felt like home, but you've always had each other. Finnick has his soul mark, as do you, but that doesn't change anything. You know he'll find someone better, but nothing is promised in District 4. Warnings: none Masterlist: see fandoms (pc-friendly)
You loved fishing with Finnick. He was so good at it and you were very impressed. You also didn’t mind diving into the water as deep as you could to catch his eye.
It was like any other day, Finnick would cast out the nets and spear what he could and you would dive in to retrieve the nets. You had been doing this since you were kids and this was the first time Finnick wasn’t wearing a shirt. So let’s just say you were a little more distracted than usual.
As he pulled back his trident you watched his back muscles and noticed something. On his shoulder was a seashell tattoo. But this wasn’t any ordinary tattoo. It was a soul mark.
You looked down at your wrist and pulled your shell bracelets off to reveal a seashell soul mark identical to Finnick’s. He was your soul mate.
“What’s wrong?” He called to you. “What are you looking at?”
“Nothing.” You said shaking your head. “I didn’t know you had a soul mark”
He looked over his shoulder. “Yeah. Do you have one?” You shook your head and he shrugged. “It’s too bad, I haven’t found her yet”
“Yeah, what a shame.” You sighed and turned to the setting sun. “Listen, we have to finish up.” You said, running and diving into the water.
You loved Finnick, but he deserved better. He was amazing and you were, well, you. He didn’t know you were his soul mate and it’s very possible for a soul mark to disappear when circumstances change. There had to be someone better to be his soul mate and that is what you would hold out for.
As you swam to the surface you were met by Finnick’s sea blue eyes staring back at you. His hands wrapped around your waist and pulled you close.
“My little fish was underwater for a very long time. Are you ok?” He asked concerned.
“Yeah” You nodded pushing yourself away from him. “I have to go” You said swimming to shore.
After the next few months despite your best efforts you fell more and more in love with Finnick everyday. You tried to stay away from him but it was almost impossible. Oddly enough you thought that maybe Finnick was in love with you too.
You were fishing one day again when Finnick spoke up. “You know I don’t think this soul mate stuff is true. I mean how can a mark on my body that matches someone else mean I love them. What if I already love someone else”
You couldn’t tell if you were upset or relieved so you nodded. “Well I don’t have to worry about it”
“I just wish I wasn’t carrying this on my back” He paused. “Get it?”
“Ha, ha” You said splashing him with water.
“Oh, you want to do that do you?” He said charging at you and knocking you backwards and into the water with him on top of you and your back against the sandy bottom.
When you both came to the surface you laughed but Finnick’s face turned serious.
“Are you nervous for the reaping next week?” He asked, breaking the happy moment.
“I don’t know.” You said shrugging. “I always wonder what are the odds.”
He nodded and looked off into the distance. “Yeah... I suppose.”
“Come on.” You said pulling him up. “It’s almost dark”
The next week went by and Finnick seemed distant. He was really worried about the reaping. You weren’t sure if he was right to be, but today would be the day to find out.
You dressed in your best blue dress and braided your hair back in a single fishtail braid. Sadly, you couldn’t meet up with Finnick before, but you would see him after. You hoped.
After you were all lined up in the square that’s when your nerves finally hit. You fidgeted with your dress and tried to crane your neck to catch a glimpse of Finnick. To your despair he was nowhere to be found.
As they drew the girl’s name you breathed a sign of relief when it wasn’t you. When they got to the boys you crossed your fingers it wasn’t Finnick.
“For the boys!" The woman called out. “Finnick Odair!”
“No...” You whispered. You watched in horror as Finnick walked up to the stage. “No!” You said running up after him the guards in quick pursuit. You grabbed his hand and gave him a hug. That was all you had time for before the guards were tearing you apart.
Finnick still had your arm and through all the grabbing and pulling your sleeve pulled up revealing your soul mark. Finnick saw it immediately. “I knew it was you. Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked desperately.
“I’m sorry.” You said as you were finally pulled away.
“I will come back to you!” He yelled as he was dragged into the justice building. “I promise!”
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kpchrs · 1 year ago
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Coriolanus doesn't get poetry at all.
Poetry -- ballads -- is Lucy Gray's way of life. It's the way she observes the humans, the nature, and the world. Lucy Gray loves life and children and people and she shows her love in the form of poetry. To live is to love humankind, she thinks.
Coriolanus doesn't get it. Coriolanus doesn't get it at all. Coriolanus doesn't get poetry. Coriolanus doesn't get humans; the souls. He kills the last speck of soul he has that day and he lives the life of the dead ever since.
Until he sees the poetry in the form of Katniss Everdeen.
Katniss is a poetry. She is Coriolanus' body and Lucy Gray's soul. She is a threat -- and he loves it.
For the first time in decades, he feels alive again.
Again and again, he challenges her in the way he knows how to defeat himself, because she is him. But she is also her and so the Mockingjay wins in the end.
It fills him with joy. With delight. With love. With life. With poetry.
He tells her the truth that final day. He always tells her the truth. He always tells her the truth until the end. Because he didn't tell her the truth when it ended. So, Coriolanus observes gleefully. To see what he, she, they choose. And she chooses the right thing.
"Well done, Miss Everdeen!" He explodes in laughter. "Well done!"
He laughs and laughs and laughs more after, because...
"Well done, Lucy Gray, well done!"
Coriolanus loves.
"I love it, live it --
Your poetry."
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scarlettscribbles · 2 years ago
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prologue
PART OF neither the angels in heaven above, nor the demons by the sea DRABBLE SERIES ↠ masterlist
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- Lucy Gray Baird & Daughter!OC, mentioned Lucy Gray Baird x Coriolanus Snow
Summary: 1.7k words - The words were on the tip of her tongue before Coriolanus had let it slip that he'd killed three people.
As Lucy Gray became a ghost lost in the wind, so did her secrets.
a/n: i cannot stop thinking about snowbaird !! inspired by my visenya-verse and also bc i love writing about children being loved :)
also, shout out to PlayingTheGameOfThrones' It's Quiet Uptown! i was reading snowbaird fics and i was so happy to find a secret kid fic. literally squealed in excitement bc i was like, that's what's literally in my brain rn
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In truth, Lucy Gray was too young to be doing this. Halfway eighteen, with her heart broken by a man — a boy, really — who almost killed her. Ironically, the suspect of her current predicament was the same person. Oh how Lucy Gray hated it that he still haunted her now.
She had Lucy Gray’s tan skin, her baby girl. The wisps of her hair stuck against her forehead were bright blond. Lucy Gray wondered if her hair would darken eventually.
Annabel Rose Baird was a sickly baby. Her heart was weak and every night, Lucy Gray would have trouble sleeping, afraid that she’d wake up with a cradle gone cold. But she was a survivor, her Annie. Much like her mother. (And father.)
But they could not live on that alone. Lucy Gray, barely recovered from birth, wrapped her baby tight on her back with a sling and took their meager belongings in a bag, setting out to find the community up North Billy Taupe had once talked about. Lucy Gray walked for miles and miles, sometimes wishing she hadn’t left behind that lovely orange scarf her lover gave her. It would’ve made for a more comfortable sleep in their journey. She could’ve given it to Annie as her baby blanket, something to remember her childhood by — the one piece of her father she would ever know or keep. But alas, Lucy Gray had left it behind along with the broken pieces of trust she once thought she could rely on.
Lucy Gray found them eventually. Or rather, they found her. It was in the middle of the night and she’d just put Annie to sleep when flashes of light shone through the gaps between the trees. Cradling her whimpering baby close to her chest, Lucy Gray raised a hand in surrender, hoping that she was saying the right words for them to not shoot her.
They took them to their leader and gave them a small cabin. It was cozy and comfortable but it wasn’t home. Not when their leader, with his calculating eyes and access to Capitol broadcasts, look at her and her baby with such intense scrutiny. Lucy Gray’s paranoia increases every time he “accidentally” chances upon her with questions about the Capitol, about the Hunger Games, about Annie. He’s not as subtle as he thinks he is. Lucy Gray endures his questions, answering casually to alleviate the suspicion upon her. Her heart threatens to beat out of her chest every single time. She could only properly breathe again when she’s back within the four walls of their cabin, with Annie safe in her arms, her little puffs of breath warming Lucy Gray from the inside out.
The one saving grace of the place was Dr. Hartree. She was training under some big shot Capitol doctor when she fled, so she knew more than the District healers did despite the meager hospital equipment she had. She diagnosed Annabel Rose with something called moderate Ventricular Septal Defect; a heart disease she had since birth. Dr. Hartree let her listen to the whooshing sound of her Annie’s heartbeat through the stethoscope. Her baby’s got a hole in her heart. Lucy Gray wept.
Dr. Hartree said that the hole might yet repair itself, that she could look for some medicine that could help strengthen Annie’s heart muscles. But if it did not, Annie would need heart surgery which Dr. Hartree was neither qualified for nor equipped to do. In that scenario, going to the Capitol would be Annie’s best hope, said the doctor. The community’s leader approved Dr. Hartree’s request for getting the medicine. In exchange, Lucy Gray had to take on additional work on top of what she’d already been assigned with to earn her keep. Lucy Gray was both thankful and suspicious. She was no fool, a big favor like that didn’t come without heavier strings. But her baby was alive so Lucy Gray kept her head down. (For the moment, at least.)
Annabel Rose grew up a happy child. She was small for her age but her presence filled the room and her heart was so full of love. Whenever she smiled, a deep dimple showed on her cheek and her warm brown eyes would shine like stars in the night sky. Her baby never did grow out of her blond hair, riotous curls tumbling down her head. She looked like an angel; Lucy Gray’s own angel.
She was truly heaven sent. There were no words to describe how much her daughter made her happy, which was something, coming from a songwriter. Oft Lucy Gray wished the Covey had a chance to know her daughter. Annabel Rose fit in alright with the children of the community, but children can be cruel sometimes. Annie’s body was weak and she ran out of breath fast, making her unable to be included in strenuous physical activities. Lucy Gray was not deaf to the whispers of “runt” that surrounded her daughter, whispers that eventually reached Annie’s ears, causing her to come home tearfully, fisting her mother’s skirt and asking what it meant. Once upon a time, Lucy Gray would have been rearing for a fight but everything was different now. She didn’t have her Covey; her and Annie were alone.
Oh, people were nice enough but, like in District 12, they seemed to be able to sense an otherness in her and Annie that made them unable to accept them fully. It didn’t help that the community leader’s demeanor was like that either. The residents liked and respected him better than the strangers they barely knew anything about, so of course they’d follow his example.
Lucy Gray had been missing her Covey so much that she contemplated going back to District 12, back to her family, when she’d heard that an electric fence was put around it, complete with Peacekeepers patrolling the perimeter. They’d never bothered with that area before, but Lucy Gray had an inkling why they suddenly found it important.
So what else could she do but grit her teeth and bear it? Every night Lucy Gray would sing songs to Annie and tell her stories about the Covey, about her family and the colorful nights and laughter they shared. And Annie’s eyes would shine in the low lamplight, humming along to the tunes.
Lucy Gray did not bring her guitar with her during her journey out of District 12, but she was able to obtain a smaller version — a ukulele — from a traveling salesman. His initial offer nearly took all her saved up money to pay for, but she was able to haggle down to a more reasonable price. At 3-years-old, Annabel Rose learned the basic chords from her mother. The first song she learned was to the tune of Lucy Gray's namesake.
It tugged at Lucy Gray’s heartstrings to hear her Annie’s sweet voice in the warmth of their home. She resolved to write a song for her daughter’s fourth birthday as a gift. Lucy Gray had her song, and so did her Capitol boy. It was only apt that Annabel Rose had one too.
It was the night of Annabel Rose's fourth birthday when everything went wrong. Lucy Gray was humming underneath her breath to the tune of a new song, their tiny kitchen fragrant with the smell of a birthday cake she’d stolen half the ingredients for to bake. She lit up a deformed red candle she attempted to mold from whatever melted wax she could find, cupping the flame between her palms briefly to keep it from being blown out. With a satisfied sigh, she wiped her hands on her apron and walked to the bed to shake her daughter awake.
All Lucy Grey felt was the cold skin of her daughter, her breathing shallow and her skin tinged blue. Her heart dropped to her stomach. With shaking hands, she wrapped Annie in a blanket and lifted her into her arms.
On the way to Dr. Hartree’s cabin, Lucy Gray would not realize that she’d been singing the song she’d written for Annie. And she will sing it under her breath while the good doctor examined her daughter, telling her the heart defect had gotten worse. She’d sing it at the back of her mind while Dr. Hartree tells her that surgery wasn’t an option anymore, that the medicine Annie’ll need is only available in the Capitol, that if she wants her baby to live she’ll need to find some way to get her a heart transplant. She’ll sing it and sing it, hoping the girl she’d written it for would awaken long enough to sing it with her.
She would only stop when Dr. Hartree clasped her hands, telling her in a hushed whisper that she’d found a way to get them to the Capitol discreetly. The doctor’s got family among the Peacekeepers in District 12 who was going to go to the Capitol in two days. Some officer fellow that was high-ranking enough to have his own private train cabin, and kind enough to share it with them. Dr. Hartree had given her temporary antibiotics for Annie with an apology that she couldn’t do anything more. When they arrive in the Capitol, Lucy Gray was on her own. Lucy Gray who had no penny to her name, who would probably be shot on sight once the Capitol had caught wind of her existence.
Her mind was racing on the morn she and a barely-lucid Annie snuck out to the gates. They were met with a heavyset man two heads taller than Lucy Gray, driving a military jeep. Time passed quickly and they encountered no hurdles getting to the train station on time. He lent them warm Capitol-style cloaks so they could blend in upon arrival. He’d even made her a cup of tea, noticing the nervousness in her demeanor. Lucy Gray had not been expecting such kindness from a Peacekeeper, no matter how highly Dr. Hartree spoke of him.
It was nighttime when they arrived, snow falling heavily on the ostentatious buildings. It wasn’t only the cold that made Lucy Gray shiver.
Under the cover of the night, Lucy Gray held her Annabel Rose and rapped on the door of the one she’d hoped would help them. If blood was not an enough reason, she could always appeal to their conscience.
The door swung open.
“Tigris, I need your help.”
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acecase0 · 2 years ago
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No cuz do you ever just realize how powerful lucy is?
She was able to conjure ALL of her celestial spirits, 3 or 4 of them being fricking ZODIACS, all at once and being powerful enough to be recognized by the celestial spirit king? And all in the first season? Where she hasn’t even had her star dresses and other abilities she has learned?
Not to mention this theory about her being a descendent of the goddess Anna, the best Celestial Spirit user.
And im rewatching it rn, and ive already encountered a moment where if she didnt interfere, natsu would have died. The arc with phantom lord where natsu is battling gajeel? Gajeel had eaten iron but there was no fire for natsu to eat, and so Lucy gave him that fire by using Sagittarius. Without that fire, natsu definitely wouldnt have finished that fight.
People are always saying ‘oh well that may be so, but if she hadn’t joined the guild-‘ Phantom lord would have most definitely attacked them for another reason. They wanted to remain the best guild in Fiore. Fairytail challenged that, so it was just a matter of time before they fought.
“Well, she always gets in their way-“ Yeah, considering the fact that she grew up in a household where her fathers only concern was the family line, she wouldn’t exactly have time to practice her magic. The only spirit she really had was Aquarius, and we can infer that she only brought her out on very few occasions. And she also wouldn’t have been able to build up any target practice or any muscle building, since Jude would say, in the stupid old fashioned way, ‘women don’t need muscles. All you need to do is make yourself look presentable to find a husband.’ He definitely wouldn’t have wanted her practicing her magic.
Meanwhile, all the others grew up in an environment where they could practice their magic freely with other wizards. They had teachers and activities that enhanced their magic and physical builds, she didn’t. So of course she wouldn’t be able to be on their level so soon.
Also, the amount of magic it takes to summon a silver spirit is a lot, but even MORE so for a Zodiac. Mashima explained that it pretty much is on a scale from 1-100. Plu being the easiest to summon at one, and her highest silver key being Lyra at 18. Her golden keys on the other hand, has Aquarius at 100 and the lowest being Cancer at 52. Others talk about the spirits only being able to use as much magical power as Lucy uses to summon them, but i doubt that theory/statement.
And its also amazing even then because she can keep those gates open for a tremendous amount of time, and multiple on some occasions. I don’t know if this part is true, but i believe that the mage has to have at-least some level of concentration on the gate for it to keep open, so if that’s correct, then it makes it even more astounding that she is able to focus on the bond at all times while fighting. And i only say this because her spirits go back to the spirit realm when she is knocked out.
Also during the E.N.D arc, (haven’t gotten there yet, seen bits and pieces) she literally REWRITES the E.N.D book that Zeref HIMSELF wrote. She literally rewrote his fate. And yes, i know that Gray was there to help her out, but at the same time, most people would have still not have been able to handle the mental and physical strain that causes.
And im just guessing on this part, but didnt she learn an entirely new part of her magic by someone in blue pegasus and learned how to preform the spell in like a week? Month? Some other very short time span?
Anyways i just love lucy and i would litterally rather show everyone my ao3 library before letting her get hurt/bashed. Lmao
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allisluv · 9 months ago
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You comforting lucy gray when she's sick
lucy gray will keep denying that she's sick until she's on the verge of hallucinating because of how high her fever is. you've got to coax her into bed and her appetite is always bigger when she's ill, so you won't have a hard time making her eat, but she hates drinking water at the best of times, so you will have a struggle keeping her hydrated. she'll want cuddles all the time though! she's especially clingy when she's sick.
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lucygraysboy · 1 month ago
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a few minutes past midnight on may 24th, the door creaks open and moonlight spills across the floorboards of a small house at the edge of lincoln county. warm wind carries in the scent of mesquite and gunpowder. billy slips inside like a ghost, blue bandana tugged over his nose, hat low over his brow. his heart’s racing, blood still hot and buzzing with adrenaline, as he makes his way down the hall. boots heavy yet soundless, moving swiftly, carrying him straight to lucy gray’s bedroom. lucy gray. his girl. the only one who always sees past the wanted posters, who always believes in him. he couldn’t possibly miss her birthday. though, he doubts she’d hold it against him if he didn’t show up. he was supposed to be hanged for the murder of sheriff brady in four days’ time. 
he doesn’t want to startle her, doesn’t want to wake her at all, but he’s on borrowed time. the whole county either already is or soon will be on the lookout for him, people shaken from their beds and questioned at gunpoint. his face on the wall at every bar and saloon in the state. he has to run, get as far away from her as possible so she’ll be safe. tears prick his eyes, the mere thought of leaving her behind is simply unbearable. maybe she’ll want to go with him? but he doesn’t have any right to ask that of her. on her birthday, out of all days, too.
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he kneels by her bed, lightly touches her angelic face before laying a hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming. “lucy gray? lucy gray, darlin’? shh, it’s me. it’s billy. it’s me,” he whispers, pulling down the dust-covered bandana. sweat and dirt on his shirt, a fresh nick on his cheek from where a bullet clipped him. “ain’t nobody hangin’ me anytime soon. i broke out. took two guards, one horse, and a prayer i ain’t sure heavens heard. lord, i just had to see you.” he brushes her cheek with his bruised knuckles. “i got somethin’ for you.” he pulls a small, heart-shaped, slightly battered locket from his pocket — stolen, but she don’t need to know that. “happy birthday, sweetheart. happy birthday, lucy gray.” and then he kisses her. like tomorrow isn’t promised.
@billysgirllol
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slaymitchabernathy · 3 months ago
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& remember kids, the next time you think, “oh, the government wouldn’t create an annual pageant where twenty four children fight to the death until one of them comes out alive as a punishment” & base the entire thing off of a drunk joke.
oh yes they would.
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lqveharrington · 7 months ago
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NEW TOM BLYTH PHOTOS ON HIS IG
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LORD PLEASE, JUST ONE CHANCE 😔🙏
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crowncrown · 2 years ago
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THE HUNGER GAMES SPOILERS AHEAD !!!
The Katniss and Lucy Grey parallels are beautiful. Really. But I believe that it’s slightly off.
Katniss is a hunter. She goes in the games prepared (at least physically) and can handle herself fairly well. She’s a fighter if she has to be. Lucy Grey on the other hand is a performer. She kills almost no one and stays in hiding because that’s not what she is physically capable of doing.
The true parallel here? Lucy Grey and Peeta. Kindhearted, soft, beautiful creatures that would’ve never made it through the games without intervention. They both “cheated” their way to victory because the love they carry moves people.
So who is meant to parallel Katniss? Sejanus! They’re strong souls. They speak their mind and loudly oppose the games while others back down. But Snow was far too focused on the small similarities (that still very much exist don’t get me wrong!) between Lucy Grey and Katniss that he becomes hyper focused. Snow is incredibly intelligent but has proven time and time again to develop tunnel vision and miss details because he’s too zoomed in to be able to see the big picture anymore. The second Katniss reminds him of Lucy Grey, he starts mixing their personalities. Haunted by the past of his love for her, he ultimately loses because he tries to predict Katniss in the way he would’ve predicted Lucy Grey.
If only he had seen that she far more favored his best friend.
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ransprang · 2 years ago
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Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader (Let me do it for you)
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Studying alongside Coriolanus, you had to put in all the extra hard work to keep up. You wanted to excel, but he was trained to win. Before Sejanus’s fortune he was on his own, striving for the scholarship. Even now after he had got it all, a goal to work towards, he stayed at his best, he never wanted to be at a place mercy ever again. You were at awe at all this ambition but it always put you at a place behind him, you were second. It was not enough, you wanted to be ahead if not eye to eye with Coriolanus.
As you to approached the final year of university and the preparations began for the yearly Hunger Games, Dr Gaul put Corio in charge of making it extravagant, the best yet. Especially approaching graduation it was his time to shine, to take the torch of his predecessors. He was more than happy to do so, to prove himself and achieve his full potential. But, you were left behind, there were many tasks given to you too, but it just never felt enough. You had everyone’s respect, Dr Gaul always knew of your ambition. She took a sadistic pleasure in watching you try harder as she gave Corio the opportunities before your eyes.
One day as you prepared the logistics, planned the map and weapons for the new arena, your classmate ran to you with a summon from the Doctor. You ran to her room, as she paced her lab, “y/n I’ll give it to you.” You raised an eyebrow replying “what exactly?” Dr Gaul snickered “exactly what you want.” A part of you lit up, you never hid your intentions to achieve power and climb the hierarchy but was she really about to give it to you? You simply wanted her to say it out loud. Dr Gaul looked up with a slight smile “organise it alongside Coriolanus. You will give exactly your 50%, it’s your final semester project with him.” Your eyes twinkled as you held your head higher, chest puffed with pride “This year’s games will bring glory to the capital,” as you turned around and walked out of the room.
Later in the day you found Coriolanus, you were dressed in a smart red pencil dress. Hair neatly combed, in a braid, as you said with weight in your voice “please run me through what is done so far and I’ll give you the logistical report.” Corio looked cautious, he was paranoid. His plans, his glory, he wondered why he had to split his power, were you here to foil all his plans? But this didn’t matter, he had to graduate, and he was not going to fuck it up especially if the government thought you important enough to be sharing the work.
Coriolanus respectfully told you about the concept he was working on, the camera placements and sponsors. You listened to him carefully, hearing the enthusiasm and passion in his voice, bordering mania. He suddenly stopped dictating as he got quieter “we must intervene if we have to, change the course of things to get as many viewers y/n,” he raised an eyebrow. You gave him a smirk “couldn’t agree more, the capital must have its yearly entertainment, there should be blood, drama, love, and heartbreak. Even if we need to…” you stopped, biting your tongue. Coriolanus walked closer, curiosity brimming his face “If we need to what y/n?” He asked sternly, demanding a reply. He hated mystery. You looked at him pursing your lips, finding semblance and command in your voice “If we need to cheat, Corio.” You could see the iris in Corio’s bright blue eyes widen, the shock in his expression, it almost looked pleasant. “We shall tell no one,” Corio said stepping back, you could see a small smile. Both of you knew Dr Gaul didn’t mind, ends justify the means after all.
Both your minds combined, you and Coriolanus stood at the the head of the room announcing the start of the Hunger Games ceremony before the referee took over. Wearing your best dress, Corio was all suited up as you two walked back to your assigned seating with all your classmates clapping and eyeing you both down with envy.
The games began and so did the trouble. The tributes ran to get the weapons but only a few turned on one another the rest stood put. A pre planned protest, yet a powerful one. Everyone was at the edge of the seat, waiting to see further developments. The committee members exchanged glances, a sense of urgency in the air. The referree stunned “I guess they are standing still as to not splash the split blood,” becoming the only one to laugh at his flat joke.
You were scared, worried as to what to do when you looked at Coriolanus he was already looking at you with a similar look in his eyes. He made his way over to you “y/n we must do something about this.” He held your hand by the wrist tightly dragging you outside the surveillance hall, just as a peacemaker appeared with a message from the higher ups “you two have 2 hours to fix this, or you will be dealt with personally by the university board.” Corio was worked up, his hair a mess, he sat on a bench defeated. You turned to him, cupping his face in a moment of passion “Corio I have an idea, but you have to help me.” Hearing those words, and being fueled with hope once more he stood up tall and leant in for a kiss. You grabbed his hair as you two made out outside the door. You two pulled away “we don’t have time, but we need to get the families of the tributes under our control. We must tell them to urge the contestants to fight.” Coriolanus understood exactly what you meant, you both parted ways, as he sent out orders to all the peacemakers in the different districts to round up the families quickly. You asked the committee to organise mics for the family members and had them connected to the speakers inside the arena. Within an hour the family members were ready to talk, they begged the tributes to fight, informing them of the dire consequences. Corio pleaded Dr Gaul to erase the footage of these announcements.
You and Coriolanus returned to the surveillance hall, disheveled. Standing there you two were desperate to see the result of your scheme, the footage began from when the tributes stood straight with their weapons to now running across the arena attacking and hacking to win, with all the events in the middle erased. The whole room began clapping, and watching excitedly. The Hunger games were back on.
You and Corio exchanged glances, a twinkle in your eyes. As the games came to an end you two walked to each other as he pulled you in for a tight hug, you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him in celebration. You two had graduated. Dr Gaul looked proud near the gate, who knew she had been a match maker as well. As you and Coriolanus pulled away from the hug, you pressed your lips against his, giving him a smooch. Corio smiled “you will work alongside me y/n, never out of my sight,” he said with conviction. Your heart beat faster, but before you could reply, all your classmates flocked around to wish congratulations.
Later in the evening Coriolanus sent a letter through a classmate which invited you for dinner, at his place. You were glowing from the victory, you hopped up on your feet to decide on a dress. Getting ready for a date, with a man you’ve always competed with, now you shared the win with him. You wanted to be at your best tonight, spending a little extra time on yourself you arriving a whopping 30 minutes late.
You walked into his house, the lights were dimmed, a table before you was set up with food, and a candle. Coriolanus was sitting on one end staring deep into the burning flame, you stepped forward in your heels as you called out “Corio?” But, he didn’t move. Puzzled you walked closer “Coriolanus? I’m here.” He still didn’t respond, just started at the flame in a trance. Just as it caught your eye, a broken wine glass beside him. His hand was tightly in a fist, with a piece of glass pressed through his palm and blood dripping down. You gasped “Corio?! Are you okay?!” Running to touch his hand, he finally moved retracting his arm. You saw the whites of his eyes were red like a bull, he then stood up, and breathed heavy “where were you?” Corio demanded an answer. Shocked at the situation “I was at home.” He snickered “Tell me y/n where were you?” You argued back getting annoyed “As I said, I was at home getting ready.” Corio paced closer “You live 10 minutes away from me, what makes you 30 late? WHY? what were you doing?” Tears brimming your eyes, but you could feel the heat of anger rise from the pits of your belly. You picked up the fork nearby, ready to stab the man before you, he caught your wrist. “You dare attack me. You want to kill me?”, you stepped back getting a little scared you asked “Do you want to kill me…?” You both went silent. The sound of heavy breathing filled the air, either of you scared to make a move.
The door to the room behind the hall opened, breaking the tension, Coriolanus’s grandmaa stepped out, a horrified expression donned on her face. “Are you two insane?” She questioned innocently. Corio’s eyes widened, you looked baffled searching for an answer as she spoke again “I was hoping for my handsome boy to have a nice cute date. What happened here? Please fix it, I will have none of this in my house.” As she turned and went back into her room leaving you two alone.
You looked at Coriolanus, as he gathered himself and tried to look composed. You cleared your throat as you looked for a first aid box nearby trying to forget what just happened. You sat him down on the couch as you patched up his hand, you both caught each other’s eyes. Getting lost in their depths, realising the amount of love between you two and what fools you had been. Corio leaned into a kiss, slowly biting your lip lovingly, yet felt like a slight punishment for being late. You smiled as you retaliated by dominating his tongue with yours to assert yourself. He wrapped you in his arms pressed your chest against his, as you further pushed yourself making him fall back on the couch with you on top. He held you by the waist as you kissed him while straddling. Coriolanus used his strength to flip you around to be beneath him, he positioned himself between your legs, dry humping you while kissing you deeply. You wrapped your legs around him, as you moved your hips with his rhythm, rubbing your wet panties against the hard buldge in his pants.
He pulled away, to take a deep breath and take off his shirt and unbutton his pants, as you helped him pull them down. He roughly you pushed you back on the sofa, harshly pulling aside your panties exposing your wet cunt to him. He ripped them off, leaving a red bruise at the waist line of where the panty had been. You moaned at the pain, as you dug your nails deep into his back leaving marks in return. He then pulled off your dress leaving you completely exposed to him. Coriolanus used his hand to guide his hard cock to rub the folds of your pussy, using his tip to play with your clit, he smacked his cock against your pussy. Watching you roll back your head and moan his name. He then pushed his tip inside your entrance, slowly moving his hips back and forth till the penis was completely inside you till his base. He leaned on top of you as your chests touched he began sucking on your neck. He thrusted in you as you moved yourself, to increase the speed. He was stretching you out , as you let your fingers get tangled in his hair, you guided his lips to your mouth. He grunted and groaned in your mouth as he got faster and as you reached climax you arched your back into him, pulling away from the kiss your let out his name releasing your fluids around his cock deep inside of you. Coriolanus pushed himself deep till you could feel his balls against your skin, he gritted his teeth together as he pumped you up with his cum. He finally exhaled, as he collapsed ontop of you, you softly hugged him closing your eyes and pressing your face in the crook of his neck. He too turned to face you, taking you into an embrace, as his cock was still inside you and your legs wrapped around. You two were tangled up together, resting.
Grandmaa Snow drank her tea in bed as she smiled to herself
your grandmaa,
admin sav
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theaawalker · 2 years ago
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I Will [Finnick Odair x Reader]
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Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader Song Inspo: Meet Me At Our Spot by The Anxiety Word Count: 2,713 Series: 1 | 2 | ? Summary: it's been years since Finnick was reaped. He came out victorious, as you'd prayed he would, but then disappeared from the public eye. It wasn't long before the Capital revisited District 4 for its next competitor. Fast-forward, you're the winner of the 75th Hunger Games, and can barely sleep. When the Capitol unveils its next phase for the Games, you're thrusted back into survival as old habits return... as do old friends. Warnings: cuts, use of blades, surveillance, depression, female rage, mentions of prostitution, mentions of murder, making out, mentions of sex Masterlist: see fandoms (pc-friendly)
You've been back for three weeks now. It feels like three years. You are the victor of the 75th Hunger Games. Your life is even worse than it was before your games, which was not meant to be part of the deal. Your entire family was dead. When you refused Snow's offer to make you a prostitute he killed them all. You thought he was bluffing. You thought he was bluffing. You thought he was bluffing. Now, you spend your days perched on your windowsill looking down onto the bottom floor, watching the other victors live. It provides minimal comfort knowing just because your life has taken a giant halt no one else's has. The only time you move from this spot is to go to the bathroom. Your legs are so stiff from minimal movement that you must hang onto the wall to steady yourself. You haven't showered. You've barely eaten, discounting canned foods. You're still in the clothes you wore when you arrived back. The only difference was a massive woolly blanket, providing some warmth in your cold, depressing room.
Someone comes over twice a day. You don't know who it is because you never actually look at them, eyes glued on the window. It's not because you're purposely ignoring them, but because you're lost in your own empty nothingness. And, as hard as you try, you can't fight your way back to reality. Whoever it is delivers your food.
Today was different though.
You hear them come in and remove their shoes. You hear them ramble through the kitchen for omething. After a while, their footsteps come towards you. You feel them put a hand on your slump, left shoulder. This is unusual but the difference is that you feel the urge to see who it is. You want to know who has been taking care of me. You want to know. So you find out.
"Welcome back to Earth, my dear." They say seductively with, face blurred by your unused vision.
"Finnick?" My voice all scratchy from no use.
"Wow," the blonde man said, "way to thank your mentor. But, fawn away, my dear!"
A wipe of the eyes reveals their true identity. A blonde man, indeed, but not yours. You've seen him on television during the 74th Hunger Games, often at the hip of its victors Katniss and Peeta.
"I know you."
"I'd sure hope so." Haymitch chuckles, stepping away to some stuff on your bed, his back to you.
"You... you've been helping me?"
"Of course. I couldn't let a pretty, little trainee like yourself starve, now could I?"
"Train for what?"
Haymitch paused. "You didn't see the news, did you?" You slowly shook your head, clutching your blanket. "Oh, jeez." The older man sighed. He grasped his mouth and stood silently, contemplating his next words. Having found them, he knelt in front of you as if you were a goner. "I'm sorry, kid... you're up next."
[ time skip - an hour later ]
An hour. That's how long Haymitch gave you to have a meltdown. You exploded with the pain, anger, and power of a thousand nukes. You obliterated your room - never careing for it anyways. You would've destroyed the building had physics not failed you. While you finished off your rampage with a primal scream, Haymitch waited outside the door and checked his watch.
Then he knocked. "Uh, kid. Time to go." You flung your door open and glared at him, eyes low and insides dead. "Hope you saved some of that rage for your combat."
The two of you head to the bottom floor. The elevator ride is quiet, and anyone who hops on ogles at you. Your hair sticks to your sweaty face. Your eyes are sunken and baggy. Your adrenaline is falling but you're still shivering. You look like a wild cat in captivity; tired, bitter, and vengeful. But worst of all, trapped.
You get to the ground floor and follow Haymitch to god-knows-where. Passing by training victors and their mentors doesn't faze you. You've played this game before. You won. You weren't confident you'd do it again, you just didn't care.
"Let's test out that fire on a target." Haymitch brought you to an assortment table of knives, spears, swords, and blades. He waved a finger across them. "Take your pick."
You grabbed the mezzaluna knife and peeked at your reflection. Your eyes... you'd be scared of you too.
You used to be so sweet and naive. You cared about others, maybe too much. You were selfless, self-conscious, and spineless. Killing people in an arena will take that from you. In a way, one of those victims was the old you.
'Rest in peace,' you thought.
"O-kaaay." Haymitch side-eyed you. "You ough to warm up before-" Your knife hit the bullseye with a sharp thud. "...Or not."
You threw the knife over, and over, and over until your palm sliced open. By Haymitch's advice, you took a breather and sought bandage. First aid wasn't a priority in the training hall, so you had to wander to find some proper wrappings. You didn't care if looking around made you appear clueness, or crazy, or weak.
A permanent "vacation" didn't sound so bad.
On your search, you saw Katniss Everdeen talking to someone by the rope stand. All you could see was his back and blonde hair. 'Peeta looks taller than on tv.' You thought to yourself.
Katniss looked over his shoulder, straight at you. You nodded, and she nodded back, a semblance of respect established. Her boyfriend watched her stare for a moment before turning around. By then you'd already looked away.
As you think about heading back, something within you begs you to stay. To look again, for whatever reason. Having nothing to lose or gain, you turn your head, which takes a lot of energy, and actually look and see who it is. You nearly faint as it's the person you never expected to see.
Finnick Odair.
He's squinting as if to make sure it's you. Then his eyes widen. At the same time, you both start for each other. The announcement feedback rings out, stopping you and him in your tracks. You step back and idle by, moving eye contact to the cement ground.
"Attention, victors. Let me be the first to welcome you," you didn't care to listen to the rest. All your mind could think about was Finnick. You hadn't seen him in almost 6 years, when he was torn from you and reaped. Just when he'd learned you two shared a soul mark. You pulled your sleeve down to hide it, paranoid a councilperson will see and tie you to Finnick. "but most of all, make your districts proud. Happy training! And may the odds be ever in your favor."
You try not to cry as the speaker ceases. Biting your lip, you peek back at Finnick's spot. His chest rises as he's huffing and staring at you, begging to be reunited. He looks so much older and buffer. His tan only complimented his gorgeousness. You had to have him.
But you couldn't, breaking your gaze. Not without drawing suspicion. So you bury alive your longing, conjure the numb beast born in your Hunger Game, and march over.
"Either of you know where to find wrappings?" You said, indirectly talking to Finnick but looking at Katniss. This was your way of tricking the cameras.
"I wouldn't, no." Katniss replied, scanning your body for the injury.
"I would." The man of your dreams said. Katniss looked at him, but you kept staring at her. "There's a kit cabinet, corner-east of the elevator. Should hold you down till the day's over."
You swallow the frog in your throat. It would be the first time you'd spoken to him since the day you lost him... You'd pictured that very moment countless times. The worst of circumstances had delivered. You couldn't even look into his eyes. Those beautiful, sea-foam eyes. You couldn't feel his eyes on you either. President Snow had control of you both, despite being nowhere nearby. It was no secret that man loved two things: using people as pawns and tearing people apart. You'd die before you let him do that to you and Finnick. Not again.
"And what if..." you cleared your throat, "what if I need another wrapping later on today?"
Finnick got quiet, picking up your breadcrumb. "There's a storage closet on the second floor. End of the hallway on the left. No one goes up there. Shouldn't be any eyes on you."
Eyes being cameras or guards, you understood. "Thanks."
Finnick started to say something else, but you walked away. Had you'd stayed any longer, you surely would've broken character and gotten the two of you killed.
[ time skip - later that night ]
Night fell and you were longing for Finnick's touch. Haymitch had finally fallen asleep, proved by his obnoxious snoring across the hall. You threw off your covers, revealing your blue, silk pajamas, and creaked open the door. Left, no one. Right no one. Empty hall. 'Thank God,' you sighed and tiptoed down it. The elevator button dinged and you jumped. You checked behind you, expecting your mentor or a guard. Empty hall still.
The elevator ride felt slower than usual. You lived on the 8th floor, so the 2nd floor shouldn't have taken that long. Then you remembered, making your face freeze and heart stop. There were cameras in the elevators. You curse yourself but evade looking at it. You should've taken the stairs. You hoped Finnick had.
'Finnick...'
The doors opened on the second floor. You walked out, almost robotically, and turned to the hall's end. 'End of the hallway on the left. Storage closet.' Finnick's words echoed in your head. You repeated it like a mantra as you headed that way. You finally got the storage closet door, no sign of entry. You reached for the handle when a dangerous feeling invaded you. You hadn't seen this man in nearly 6 years. You weren't the same, and perhaps so was he.
What if Finnick was deceiving you? 'No.'
What if guards are waiting behind the door?' No, he'd-'
What if Finnick was working with Snow? 'No, he'd never.'
How could you be sure? 'I'll prove it.'
You threw open the door and dove inside. Had you Finnick not caught you, you would've crashed into him. It was dark and dimly lit by a dying lightbulb. You saw illuminated Finnick's outline - his shape, really - but that was all. Not ideal circumstances, but they'd do.
"Y/N..." He was still holding you by the forearms. "Were you followed?" His voice read as serious, edging on emotionless.
"No." You said, hiding your dismay. For a moment, you regretted not bringing your knife. He had a hold of you, ambushed in a dark, small closet, in the middle of the night, and towered over you like Goliath.
Then a flashlight turned on under you. Once you saw his face, all the fear and paranoia dissolved.
"Good." He said charmingly with a sweet, gentle smile resting on his tan, god-like face. Suddenly he drops his Capitol self and you see another person not Finnick Odair but just Finnick. "I missed you s-"
You hugged him like you've never hugged anyone before. He rocked you side-to-side and you squeezed him tighter. You both chuckle as you break apart and look at each other.
"Gosh, Finn. You look so different." You gawked at his, well, everything.
"So do you, Y/NN." Finnick observed you with a sweet smile of disbelief. "Guess running for your life will do that to you." He joked, making you giggle.
Then it grew quiet as cruel reality set in.
You were both murderers. Both slaves to the Capitol. Both stuck inside a world you hate. Both surrounded by people you don't like. Even if he hadn't said it, his face told you. It had affected him too.
Your hands caress his cheeks as you mutter, "I wish things were different."
"I know what you're going through. I understand. And I felt terrible that I left without telling what," he sighed, "what you meant to me. I couldn't help you during your games because the Capitol wanted me to… take care of other business and Mags helped me a lot when I came home. So I should've looked for you, should've helped you, should've tried, because you deserve it."
You were too exhausted to cry. You contemplated aplogizing for not telling him about the soul mark. It happened so long ago that you couldn't recall if you'd said sorry then. When he was reaped and ripped away from you. So, you changed the subject. "You know why he killed my family, right?"
"Yes. Yes, I know why".
"You're a prostitute?"
"...Yes."
"To protect your family?"
"At first like you I refused then he killed my mother. The only family I had that was blood. Then he threatened to kill Mags. So I did it."
"I thought he was bluffing."
"I did too." Then Finnick's eyes fell to the ground, riddled with shame and uncertainty. "So... you don't mind? That I, uh..." his brows furrowed in angered remembrance, "that I'm... what Snow makes me do?"
You finally muster the courage to kiss him. His lips are salty and oh so plump. They mesh with yours perfectly. He grabs your face and deepens the kiss. You pull away to breath, eyes still closed and smiling. You licks your lips, relishing his citrus taste before being pulled into another kiss. Your heads move as your mouths devour each other. Your hands explore his back, sometimes tugging at his tanktop. He slides his tongue across your teeth, begging for permission. You open your mouth wide and let him slip it inside you. You suck on his long tongue and listen to his moans. As you suck and savor his slippery glossa, the idea of sex claws as you. You didn't want to soil the moment by [redacted]-ing Finnick.
Plus, you didn't have any condoms.
You let go of his tongue, which he rolled back into his smirking mouth. He dove in for another kiss but you caught his chest.
"I don't want to do it right away." You told him. You watched his face of arousal disappear, replaced by calm, and an understanding nod.
"I get it." He tucked your hair behind your ear. "We can stop here if you want."
Tears you resented stung your eyes. You bore into his chest, thoughts distant. "I don't think we can."
"Hey, hey," Finnick lifted your face, "what's wrong?"
"We're both victors, Finnick." You sniffled. "Do you really think they're gonna let two victors win again?"
It was true. Peeta and Katniss had gotten lucky. You and Finnick wouldn't be so, not if the Capitol could help it. The love you had would be destroyed, killed in the 76th Hunger Games. Not just the love between you, but one of you... one of you had to die.
"We'll find a way. Listen, listen to me. We will find a way. There's 59 days till the Games. We'll come up with a way to survive. Hide till it's over, fake our deaths, escape - whatever it takes. O-okay?" He plastered a weak yet hopeful smile. He brought your foreheads together. "I'm not losing you again. We just have to have faith. Okay?"
"We can't-"
"Promise me, Y/N. Please." Finnick begged, speaking and breathing softly. "Promise me you'll have faith in me. In us. Promise you will."
Every fiber of your being ignites. Faith didn't exist in the Hunger Games. Precision. Skill. Wit. Violence. Vigilance. Survival. That's what reigned. That's what would get you through the day. You hated doing it that way, but it had worked in the past. What Finnick was asking you was to basically abandon the protocol. To go against logic and defy the future, pretty much ensuring your demise. Could you trust what he was saying, or were your prior suspicions accurate? Could you use that against him, trick him as well? You just knew this wasn't going to end well, whatever happened. But for now, you'd play pretend.
"I will."
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