Stranger Things🩸✨🧇

The Heiress Of Panem (Coriolanus Snow x reader)

(Summary: Some people look down on you for having your first born be a daughter but you don't let it bother you and neither does Coriolanus.)

Masterlist : Request info

Word Count: 480

(A/n: Another short and sweet one :) also can you guess what photo is my favorite of him😅)

(Warning:disrespect for feminism, slight angst, fluff fluff fluff!)

~~~~

  Opening the door to the bedroom he shares with his beautiful wife, Y/n. They knew each other since they were little, through their parents, and since then they remained best friends, but during the Academy, Coriolanus confessed his love for Y/n.

  Through what they went through together, their relationship remained close and loving even during the period when Coriolanus was away in District 12 as a peacekeeper. They always found methods of communication, on the phone, letters.

  He scans the room to find her not there so he goes to the only place where she could be and he was correct as he saw her with the other person who makes him smile even in the hardest moments, their beautiful daughter, Marie Snow. He leaned against the door frame watching his love with their beautiful daughter.

  Not many people were too keen on their first born, the heir being a girl. Some who were still very old fashioned. Grandma'am who they both loved was unfortunately one of those people who had constantly reminded the couple that it should've been a boy a perfect heir and gem of panem. Even some reporters had comments but they weren't a worry anymore. 

Comments from others like:

'Aren't you ashamed of your first born, Heir of Snow beings a girl? And not a son?'

'At least our first born was a son. We aren't putting shame on anyone.'

Stupid pathetic comments that had Y/n in a rut even more during her postpartum not long after she had Marie. He remembered finding her hidden away crying in their shared bedroom the one day.

"I just... don't fully understand why they won't accept her.." Y/n whispered with tears streaming down her face.

"Some of them need to come to times with things.."he said. Y/n wiped off her tears. Coriolanus came over to her pulling her into a comforting hug.

  Even with people against it. Coriolanus couldn't have been more happier. Which both you and Tigris were grateful for.

"A boy would be the gem of Panem.." Y/n whispered, looking down at her daughter in her arms.

"But you Marie Ambre Snow.. Shall be mine." She cooed at her daughter with a smile kissing her head as she rocked her in her arms.

"Ours my love..." Coriolanus said as he admired her and their daughter. Y/n looked over at him with a smile.

"Yes. Ours." She replied as she put their daughter now asleep in her crib.

Coriolanus came over wrapping his arms around her and kissing her head as they both now admired their daughter together.

Never Lose Me (Henry/001 x reader)

(Summary: Where you are unwillingly part of one of Dr. Brenner's project's in the lab, Henry /001 is the one who he pairs you with. But something goes wrong during the pregnancy..)

Masterlist

(Warning: Mentions of murder, Medical stuff, blood, death, dark themes, Dr. Brenner is his own warning)

   It was a cold rainy September night, when you got kidnapped by a old grey haired man named Dr. Martin Brenner. Who was now your 'boss'. He forced you to join one of his projects and he stuck you in a room with a very handsome mysterious guy named Peter Ballard, who you later found out his real name was Henry Creel.

(Flashback)

"W-who are you? Wh-where am I?" You finally got the courage to speak.

"Henry.. Henry Creel." "But I thou-" "Brenner changed my name.. and I'm sure you know why.." Henry said looking at you. He was right you did know, he was supposed to be dead but here he is in the flesh.

"I'm not going to hurt you..."  "Where am I? Why am I here? And don't try anything i know karate.." you said trying to stand your ground. He was not bying it.

"Your at Hawkins Lab, Dr.Brenner is making you become involved in one of his projects.. that's why your in here with me.."

"Wait you knew?" He nodded.

"He told me and showed me who you were. Y/n M/n L/n, 25 years old. Honor Roll in high school, went to one of the best schools for nursing, Single, and a Orphan... Brenner actually let me pick who was going to be apart of this project.." your face went back to a horrified expression. "Don't worry he was planning to get you anyways. He needs a new nurse."

"H-ho-" "He has a file of you.. he has files of everyone.. and I picked you because I can sense theirs something... between us..."

  And Henry was right. There was/is an unspeakable bond between the two of you no one could figure out... not even them. From then on, you both got to know each other he told you more about the lab, himself, how he was/is a number and that he has powers just like the other children. He also told you about the project.. how you and him had to conceive a child. You were mortified and refused.... Until that one night....

"What happened?" You walked towards him seeing him on the ground in pain. Henry refused to break down his wall and shook his head.

"They punished you didn't they?" You asked. He sighed and nodded.

  You got the first aid kit and asked him to take off his shirt. You never knew how toned he actually was until now... you quickly shook the thought away and You started to tend to his wounds.

"What happened this time?"

"Brenner doesn't like how close I am getting to 011."

"I see that.." you said with a frown as you finished tending to his wounds.

    But before you could move away, he grabbed your arm and lifted up your chin, making you look into his eyes and before you knew it, his lips were on yours and you were being pushed back onto his bed.

   Now, You were months into your pregnancy and at first everything was fine until the past few weeks going into the third trimester of your pregnancy. You had been exhausted and coughing like crazy you also looked survirly pale, but you just thought it was just because of being trapped in the lab. During your pregnancy you haven't been able to see Henry as much but, he did grow concern. You missed seeing him everyday, You thought, As you walked with one of the other woman in a different project Lydia, who had became your friend. While she talked to you about the reasoning she was here and her husband.

"I've been missing him like crazy. And the only reason I am doing this is because I need the money or I don't know what will happen to us-" you started to feel faint slowing down your speedy as well as starting to cough slightly, trying not noticing the blood that was coming out as well.

"Y-y/n are you okay?" She asked concerned, looking behind towards you.

"I-im..f-fine." You said in between heeps of breaths and coughing up large amounts of blood, before your eyes rolled back and you clasping to the floor. Lydia dropped her pad running towards you.

"Omg. Y/n? Help! HELP!" She shouted. To see Dr.Brenner and two orderly's running up to them.

"Lydia what happened?" Brenner asked eyes filled with shocked and a little horror.

"I-I don't know... w-we were just walking and she started coughing and slowing down. Before I knew it she clasped." She said with tears streaming down her eyes.

"Jackson take Ms. Rowe back to the project room. Lucas take ms.L/n to the infirmary immediately! And page the infirmary! Hurry!" Brenner ordered. The two men hurriedly went to there tasks.

While Lucas rushed Y/n to the infirmary. He immediately paged the infirmary.

"This is Lucas Soks i have a serious matter ms. L/n clasped in the hall coughing up blood. Dr. Brenner needs to have all hands on deck. I'll be there soon!"

Not occurring to Lucas nor Brenner that Henry over heard everything and is hot on their tracks.

Once, Lucas got her to the infirmary the team took you and placed you on the table placing an oxygen mask on to your mouth and nose, while giving you an IV as they pushed everyone else out of the room.

As Dr.Brenner was going to the infirmary to see what was happening he was stopped in his tracks by an all to familiar voice/person.

"What did you do to her?" A bitter voice said.

"001 we have no idea what happened. I'm on my way to figure it out now and I suggest you let me through or suffer the consequences." Brenner spoke.

Henry opened his mouth to speak then closed it again before letting Brenner pass.

"I will let you know what happens.." Brenner said before continuing to the infirmary.

Once he was gone, henry punched the closest wall near him. Though Brenner used you for his "project" you both actually fell for each other. He never expected to fall in love or have any actual feelings for anyone or anything but, their was something about you that allured him. Now that he has you he's not going to let you go no matter what. He couldn't bare the thought of losing you.

Once, Brenner got to the infirmary.

"What's going on?" Brenner asked one of the nurses.

"Her body is starting to shut down, one of her organs is clasping. We need to get her into surgery now." She explained.

"I don't care what happens to her but, make sure that baby is alive." Brenner stated.

"But sir-" "do as I say! Kill her i don't care but I.want.that.baby.alive!" He ordered.

They looked at him with a horrified expression before following his orders. One of the nurses Katherine was a very good friend of yours even before the lab. She couldn't believe what she had heard. And slipped out of the room to find Peter/Henry. She found him where he usually was working in the Rainbow room.

"Mr. Ballard could I speak with you for a moment.. 011s results came back." She made up a good excuse or well she hoped. Looking at the other orderlies who had actually bought it. Peter got up and followed her.

"I need to tell you something important."

"Ms.Thorn I don-" as he was about to walk back to the rainbow room " It's about Y/n." Henry paused in his tracks slowly turning around walking back towards Katherine.

"What about Y/n." He said in a deep almost concerned voice.

"Br-Brenner wants to kill her..." those four words almost sent him into a rage. "Y/n's condition, is one of her organs are failing. There getting her-she's probably already in surgery now. Brenner never cared about her seems pretty obvious but all he cares is wanting that baby... your baby alive... no matter the costs.." She explained. Henry was frozen in place rage filling him more and more like poison seeping through. He need to do his plan as soon as possible.

"I-I have to get back before Brenner notices.. I wanted you to know.." and with that Katherine went back to the infirmary. While Henry went back to the rainbow room to start his plan.

(Timeskip: past through the mascara and everything also eleven escaped through the tunnel when Henry showed her, also it's a bit different because he was killing everyone who was in the way of getting to you so yeah!)

Once, Henry finished off with the last nurse stopping him from getting to you. While compelling Katherine to tend to their daughter, he saw you laying on the table stitched back up in a gown. His heart dropped while he picked you up in his arms holding you hoping you will wake up and be with him. That he did not lose you and as if the gods were on his side he felt your fingers move against his back pulling your chest to his ear feeling/hearing your heartbeat once again. He picked you up into a bridal style pose. And took you and their daughter home.

Once you woke up, you felt as if you were on a cloud looking around to notice you weren't in the lab but in your house well your room to be exact. You heard footsteps coming towards you, to see Henry.

"H-Henry.." your voice croaked out he neiled down and pulled you into a deep hug you slowly wrapped your arms around him pulling him closer.

"I thought I lost you.." he said. While kissing your head. You pulled away putting your forehead against his.

"You could never lose me.." you said looking into his perfect blue eyes.

Before he could say anything their was a knock on the door frame. Both of you looked over to see Katherine and a baby.. your baby. You sat up as quick as possible.

"I-is she okay.." you asked concerned.

"She's perfect. Here. I'll give you three sometime." Katherine replied handing your daughter over to you. "She still needs a name by the way." She said before leaving.

Your eyes welled up as you looked at your beautiful daughter. As her arms moved and grabbed your hair.

"H-hi." You said as tears of joy streamed down your face. You saw her look over at Henry. "Is that your dada?" You asked lifting her up.

Henry watched mesmerised by just the small interaction between you and their daughter. "She does still need a name.." he spoke up. You looked at her for a moment before smiling.

"Hayley Grace... that's her name.." you looked at Henry for a moment. "Hayley Grace Creel.." Henry looked at you for a moment, before a smile creeped up onto his lips as he brought the both of you in his arms. While whispering "it's perfect.."

    You both stayed like that for a while, you couldn't imagine anything better. Your little family. You didn't regret anything, not even being forced to stay in the lab because if you didn't, you wouldn't be here with Henry and your daughter.

Word count: 2032

(A/n: I hope you all enjoyed this! I know it's kinda rushed but! I NEED TO KNOW IF THIS HAPPENS TO ANYONE ELSE!, Do you ever have a whole BUNCH ideas for writing but you have no idea how to start it?¿ please let me know that I'm not the only one haha.. anyways, I hope y'all enjoyed! :) )

I Beg You Don’t Embarrass Me (Barty Crouch Jr. x Black!Reader)

(Summary: reader is part of the black family and everybody teases her about dating Barty but he doesn't embarrass her.)

Word count: 314

(Warnings: Not fullyproff read, Short & Sweet, fluff, teasing)

"Heartbreak is one thing my egos another I swear you don't embarrass me motherfucker.."

~~~

"It must be so embarrassing for you dating somebody like Junior.." Bellatrix cackled.

Ever since fifth year when Y/n started seeing Barty it was always the same thing.

"It must be so embarrassing to ever date that fool!" A student said, after Barty had caused a ruckus in the great hall.

"Sis I love you. I do but.. Crouch? Really?" Sirius/Padfoot teased.

"I'm going to have to agree with Sirius on this one.. even though Barty is a good friend of mine.." Regulus Agreed with Sirius. Y/n rolled her eyes as she saw Sirius smirk.

"Wait.. you're seriously dating him?" A Ravenclaw guy who had kept trying to ask her out asked.

Has lead to this very moment, to Barty realising maybe he is an embarrassment for her and that his father was right. Just like everyone else..

"Maybe this isn't meant to be.." Barty said, his eyes and head lowered.

One thing about Bartimus Crouch Junior is as much as he acted like he didn't care. He did.. it got to him like his father has multiple times. Which makes him second doubt.

"Hey look at me." Y/n said, lifting his head. Making him look at her.

"Heartbreak is one thing my egos another. I beg you don't embarrass me... Bartimus Crouch Junior." She declared placing a soft kiss on his lips. She pulled back giving him a small smile only for him to pull her back in.

"You have a way with words black." He said, smirking. Pressing a kiss to her jaw.

"Don't I know it, Crouch." She replied. He pulled her down flipping her onto the bed as she squealed and laughed.

Some Ideas/Requests I had for Coriolanus snow! (Any one can make these because I’m not good at writing plus I’d prefer someone else…hehe) also all female reader!!

1. Coriolanus snow x fem reader: During the hunger games you and Lucy come across careers and during the amidst of fighting trying to fight them off the reader sacrifice herself to save Lucy, not only leaving behind her best friend (Lucy) but also leaving behind her love (Coriolanus)

2. Jealous Coriolanus x fem reader: where the reader and Coriolanus used to have a fling but they ended it. (You can decide the reason) and the reader ends up with one of finnick odairs ancestors and Coriolanus gets jealous (and if you do smut you can make it into smut.

3. Peacekeeper Coriolanus snow x fem reader: The night Lucy performs the reader also performs and is just as good with the guitar and has a very captivating singing voice. Which makes Coriolanus awestruck/starts falling for her.

4. Jealous Coriolanus Snow x fem reader: the reader and Coriolanus are good friends for a while and maybe he’s had feelings/has been slightly pinning after her, both of them are mentors and the reader gets a very nice hot guy as her tribute and they become attracted to each other and coryo gets jealous

5. Coriolanus snow x reader: the reader was a tribute not that long before the 10th hunger games but during her games she had unknowingly did something that the capital did not approve of and she gets reaped back into the games but she doesn’t get a mentor because of the capital/peacekeepers doing the dirty work themselves they decided to put her back into the games and instead of snow falling for Lucy gray (his tribute) he falls for the reader. And during the games Lucy asks the reader what happened to her and she tells Lucy that after the games they had killed her family and sold her (like what happened to finnick & Johanna! If not comfortable y’all can leave that part out or come up with something else)

6. Coriolanus snow x fem reader: it’s when the attacks happen the reader gets hit and becomes unconscious but instead of snow looking for her (his gf?) he more worried about Lucy gray and he doesn’t realize that the reader is their next to him in the wing until after he knows Lucy is okay. Maybe the reader is in a very bad condition and had to undergo a surgery.

7. Coriolanus Snow x fem reader: where she’s in the games and she sings safe and sound by Taylor Swift to her fellow tribute, while their dying (like how katniss did with rue) and snow is just in awe and can’t take his eyes off the screen. (Maybe you were part of the capital and was thrown into the games because of your family?¿)

(I have more but all that I can think of rn!)

Shadows of Affection

warnings: death

slow burn Coriolanus Snow x reader, slight Felix Ravinstill x reader

Chapter 16: Aftermath

You wake up feeling dazed, disoriented. The ceiling above you is unfamiliar, high and intricate with golden detailing carved into its moldings. The bed beneath you is too soft, the sheets too smooth, like silk against your skin. You shift slightly, trying to sit up, when an arm tightens around your waist. Your body stiffens.

What the fuck?

Panic shoots through you for a second before last night’s memories come flooding back. The exhaustion. Felix insisting you come home with him. Falling into bed before you could even think twice about it.

Oh no. No, no, no.

You groan internally. You were tired, sure, but how could you have let this happen? Felix’s house. Felix’s bed. Felix’s arms wrapped so tightly around you that escape feels impossible. And when you get home—if you get home—Quincy is going to have a field day. He always does. Though lately, he’s been too busy. You don’t see him as often. You don’t sit down for dinner together. You try to come home after everyone’s asleep and leave before they wake. But he’ll know. He always knows. And you have no explanation to give him.

You shift again, trying to pry yourself from Felix’s grasp, but he groans in annoyance and only pulls you closer.

“Felix,” you mutter, voice still rough with sleep. “I have to go.”

He buries his face against your shoulder. “No, no we don’t have to go anywhere,” he mumbles sleepily. “Stay. Let’s get breakfast. Let’s take the day off.”

You shake your head. “I can’t. I really can’t.”

Felix sighs, rubbing at his face before propping himself up on one elbow. “Why?”

You sit up, already scanning the room for your clothes. “I have to talk to Dr. Gaul. She’s going to be expecting me.”

His expression shifts, his easygoing sleepiness fading into something more tense. “Why do you always have to leave?” His voice is sharper than before, tinged with frustration. “Why can’t you just stay with me?”

You glance at him, confused by the sudden shift in tone. “What are you talking about? You know I’m busy. So are you. I can’t just take a day off.”

Felix scoffs, running a hand through his messy hair. “Is it Coriolanus?”

You freeze for a second before rolling your eyes. “Oh, please. You’re being dramatic. This has nothing to do with Coriolanus.”

“It always has something to do with him,” Felix presses, his voice darkening. “I saw it. The way you looked at him.”

You push against his chest, trying to create space between you, but he doesn’t let you. “Felix, you’re blind.”

“Then prove it,” he says. “Stay.” His grip tightens on your wrist. “Stay with me. Stay in bed.” His voice softens. “Please.”

You inhale sharply, heart hammering. “No. I can’t.”

Felix exhales slowly, finally loosening his hold. But even as he releases you, his fingers remain tangled with yours. He always does this—always finds a way to touch you. Whether it’s a hand on your knee, fingers brushing against your wrist, his presence always lingering.

He sits up, watching you as you move around the room, aimlessly searching. “Where are my clothes?” you ask.

“I had them thrown away.”

You turn sharply. “What?”

“They were filthy,” Felix says simply. “They were torn. You weren’t going to wear them again, so I had the maids bring you something new.” He gestures lazily. “They’ll bring it to you in a minute.”

You let out a slow breath, trying not to get more frustrated than you already are. “Fine.”

Minutes later, the maids arrive, carrying a neatly folded dress. You take it, holding it up in front of you. The fabric is luxurious, softer than anything you’d normally wear. The cut is modest—but just barely. If it were any shorter, it would cross the line from refined to provocative.

And it’s white.

You frown. White. You never wear white. It makes you feel like a child bride. And you know, without a doubt, that Felix picked this. He didn’t choose something you’d like—he chose something he would like to see you in.

You slip into the dress, brushing out your hair, trying to ignore the way it fits too perfectly, like it was tailored for you overnight. You stare at yourself in the mirror, lost in thought, when Felix moves behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. His lips brush against your neck. “Stay,” he murmurs against your skin. “We could be comfortable. Come back to bed.”

You stiffen. His kisses become sloppier, more insistent. You know exactly what he’s trying to do.

“No,” you say firmly, stepping out of his grip.

Felix’s hands drop to his sides, his face darkening. For a second, it looks like he might argue, but instead, he lets out a heavy sigh. “Fine.” His voice is flat. “Call me later.”

You nod, barely listening.

“Call me tonight,” he repeats, watching you carefully. “We’ll go to dinner.”

You exhale. “Okay.”

Felix calls your driver, and soon enough, you’re slipping out of the house, walking through the eerily silent halls of the President’s mansion. It’s strange—so many people live here, so many servants, so many visitors from powerful families, and yet it always feels... empty. Hollow. Like the walls themselves are absorbing all the life inside them.

Finally, you step outside, into the fresh air, and climb into the car waiting for you. As soon as the door shuts, you let your head fall back against the seat and sigh.

You moved quickly through the corridors of the Capitol, your footsteps echoing off the pristine marble floor. The peacekeepers at the entrance barely gave you a glance before granting you access to the underground levels, where Dr. Gaul’s true domain lay.

The air grew colder the deeper you went, the artificial lights casting long, eerie shadows. As you descended, the scent of raw fish curled into your nose, unmistakable and putrid. A sharp chorus of squeals rang out—feeding time. Then, silence.

You swallowed thickly, keeping your eyes forward, pretending you didn’t hear, pretending you didn’t know what happened in these halls. You had always done that, because fear made it easier. Fear kept you from wondering too hard about what went on behind the reinforced glass or what kind of creatures lurked in the shadows of Gaul’s twisted creations. Fear reminded you that if it ever came down to you or them, you would always choose yourself.

When you reached the lab, Dr. Gaul was standing over a steel enclosure, dropping chunks of flesh into it. A wet, slithering sound accompanied each drop, followed by quick, greedy gulps. Your stomach twisted, but you forced yourself to remain composed.

Dr. Gaul turned to you, her smile wide and unnatural. “Oh, my little dove,” she cooed. “How was your little excursion last night?”

Your spine stiffened. “Eventful.”

“Eventful, she says,” Gaul chuckled, tilting her head. “Come, let’s check you up.”

She stepped forward, her gloved hands reaching out to examine you. Cold fingertips brushed against your wrist, then your jaw, tilting your head side to side as Gaul’s grin stretched wider, inspecting you like you were just another one of her projects. You forced yourself not to recoil.

“I started out as a medical doctor, you know,” Gaul said conversationally, stepping back. “Sterile. How awful, you must imagine, to be the first thing a baby sees in this world.” She sighed dramatically. “Parents always expect reassurances, but what can I possibly tell them? How could I know what their children would face?”

You said nothing, but you knew where this was going.

“Like you, last night,” Gaul continued, voice filled with an eerie amusement. “Who would have imagined the darling daughter of Lason Royce, fighting for her life in the Capitol arena? Not him, for one.”

Your lips parted slightly, but you had no response. You barely remembered your father anymore. His face was always a blur, shifting in your memory like a phantom you could never quite catch.

“What was it like?” Gaul asked. “The arena?”

You met her gaze, unwavering. “Terrifying. Just like it was designed to be.”

Gaul let out a laugh. “Yes, indeed.”

You exhaled sharply.

“What about the tributes?” Gaul smirked. “What about them?”

You hesitated.

“What did you think of them, now that their chains were removed? Now that they tried to kill you, not because they had to, but because they wanted to?”

Gaul’s eyes gleamed. “Ah. You’ve seen it, haven’t you?”

You thought back to the escape, to the sheer bloodlust in the tributes’ eyes even after they were free. “I felt like an animal. Like prey being hunted.”

“But you weren’t.”

“No,” you admitted. “But I always am. No matter where I go, I’m always prey.”

Gaul let out a delighted hum, as if you had just said exactly what she wanted to hear. “Mission accomplished, then.”

She walked over to a counter, idly flipping through a file. “That little one from Eight—Snow beat him to a pulp. Now we’ll have to fabricate some lovely tale for Flickerman to spin. What a wonderful opportunity for you.” She glanced up, her grin sharp. “Transformative, wasn’t it?”

You felt the phantom sensation of blood on your skin, the memory of Coryo bashing into that boy’s face over and over again. The sickening crunch, the shiver down your spine. It brought back too many memories—war, home, the never-ending cycle of violence.

Blood. Blood. Blood.

It was all you ever saw.

Gaul tapped her fingers against the counter. “Wasn’t it more than you could’ve hoped for?”

You inhaled slowly. “You needed me to get Sejanus out of the arena, obviously. But you also wanted me to… what? Experience it?”

Gaul’s grin widened.

“Even if it killed me?” Your voice tightened.

“That was a risk.”

“Without the threat of death, what’s the point of a lesson?” Gaul mused. She gestured vaguely. “What happens in the arena, my dear, that is humanity undressed. The tributes. And you. How quickly civilization disappears. All your fine manners, your education, your family background—it all falls away in an instant, revealing what you really are.”

Your stomach twisted, but you weren’t surprised. “And? What was the point? I already knew all this.” Your voice sharpened. “I’ve always known. I’ve seen it before.”

Gaul let out a pleased hum. “I thought you might need a reminder, little dove.” She stepped closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I don’t want you going soft.”

Your jaw clenched.

Gaul tilted her head, watching you carefully. “I need you to realize where you are in this world… and where you will stay if you don’t change it.”

Your breath hitched.

Gaul’s voice turned saccharine, condescending. “You can’t stay my little dove forever.”

Your fingers curled into fists at your sides. You had nothing to say to that. Because deep down, you weren’t sure if you wanted to argue.

Gaul simply smiled and turned away.

The conversation was over. But the lesson lingered.

The main student body had been told to report at 7:45, so the early arrivals consisted of active mentors and a few aides tidying up the hall. You couldn’t help but throw a guilty glance at Juno Phipps, who sat discussing her strategy, knowing she could’ve just slept in. Your thoughts wandered to how they would announce Bobbin’s death and how Coriolanus would react—but you doubted he would care.

Everything from yesterday had already been set up, and since the crowds hadn’t arrived yet, you decided to join Festus. The only thing being served in Heavensbee Hall was tea, which brought grumblings from Festus. “If we have to be here early, you’d think they could at least feed us,” he muttered.

“You’d think,” you replied.

Coriolanus sauntered up beside Festus, casually joining the small group. “What happened to your face?”

“Bike accident,” Coriolanus said loud enough for everyone to hear, his eyes briefly glancing at you. He tossed a bag containing a roll to Festus.

“Thanks, this looks great,” Festus said, digging in immediately.

Conversations continued around you, but you barely paid attention. Your mind drifted, replaying the events of the past few weeks. Your life had suddenly become a living nightmare with the start of the Hunger Games, and it didn’t help that Coriolanus kept making eye contact with you. As the rest of the school arrived and took their seats, you chose to separate from the group, heading toward the game makers’ station to observe behind the screens.

The monitors showed little change—except for the disappearance of Marcus’s body. No one seemed to question it. You assumed it was still by the barricade, where Coriolanus and Sejanus had abandoned it last night, just out of range of the cameras.

At the stroke of eight, the anthem played, and everyone stood. You weren’t much of a singer, so you remained quiet as Lucky Flickerman appeared on the screens, welcoming everyone to Day Two of the Hunger Games.

“While you were sleeping, something pretty important happened,” Lucky announced. “Let’s take a look, shall we?”

The feed cut to a wide shot of the arena before slowly panning in on the barricade. As you expected, Marcus’s body lay nearby, but your stomach twisted when Bobbin’s battered form came into view. He looked much worse than you had imagined—his limbs twisted unnaturally, his swollen face barely recognizable. Coriolanus had really done that to another boy—a young boy. You stole a glance at him, but all you saw was the back of his head. Even from there, you knew he was nervous. He might have seemed like a good liar to everyone else, but you always knew better.

After a long look at the bodies, the show cut back to Lucky, who pondered aloud who might have committed the act. His mood abruptly shifted. “One thing we do know is that we’ve got something to celebrate!”

Confetti rained from the ceiling as Lucky blew wildly on a plastic horn. “We’ve just hit the halfway mark! That’s right—twelve tributes down, only twelve to go!” A string of brightly colored handkerchiefs shot from his sleeve as he swung them around his head, laughing and cheering. When he finally calmed, he adopted a somber expression. “But that also means we have to say farewell to Miss Juno Phipps.”

A man approached Juno’s side to escort her out, but she suddenly spoke up. “Something seems off to me,” she said. “I mean, what’s he doing over there with Marcus’s body? Who moved it? And how did Bobbin end up dead? I can’t even imagine a likely scenario.”

The reporter, intrigued, pressed further. “What exactly would qualify as foul play?”

“I don’t know exactly,” Juno admitted. “But I, for one, would really like to see a replay of last night’s events.”

Good luck with that, you thought. But then the idea lingered. Maybe a recording did exist. Maybe there were two versions—one for the public and another kept private. You’d have to look into it later, though you doubted you could access it or that Dr. Gaul would even keep such a thing.

Juno was dismissed with a patronizing pat on the back, still sparkling with confetti. Lucky, oblivious to her frustration, leaned toward the camera with barely contained glee.

“And now, I suppose you’re all wondering about our extra big surprise! Especially if you’re one of the twelve remaining mentors.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. What the hell was he talking about?

Before you could dwell on it, Lucky bounded across the stage to reveal two men sitting side by side—his father, Strabo Plinth, whose stern expression was as immovable as the granite of his home district, and Sejanus, looking hollow-eyed and stiff.

Lucky took the host chair and patted Sejanus’s leg. “I’m sorry we didn’t get a moment with you yesterday to comment on your tribute’s… unfortunate demise.”

Sejanus merely stared, uncomprehending. Lucky seemed to notice his injuries for the first time. “You look like you’ve been mixing it up yourself.”

“I fell off my bike,” Sejanus rasped.

Two biking accidents in twelve hours? That seemed highly unlikely.

“Ouch! Well, I guess you’ve had some pretty big news to share with us,” Lucky continued, nodding encouragingly.

Sejanus hesitated, while neither he nor his father acknowledged each other. A silent battle raged between them. Finally, Sejanus exhaled. “The Plinth family would like to announce that we will be awarding a full-ride university scholarship to the mentor whose tribute wins the Hunger Games.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd. Several mentors gasped in delight. You rolled your eyes, knowing that most of them didn’t need the money nearly as much as others did.

As the interview dragged on, your thoughts churned. Sejanus had been right—his father was trying to cover up his son’s disgraceful behavior with a generous bribe. Not that it didn’t merit damage control. You hadn’t heard much gossip about the outburst with the chair yet, but you suspected stories were already spreading.

As the interview ended and the Games were broadcast once again, nothing particularly interesting happened throughout the morning. The tributes seemed hesitant to make any bold moves. Coral and Mizzen roamed together for a while, collecting food and water from their mentors, Festus and Persephone. The two mentors had been strategizing together, and it was clear that Festus had a crush on Persephone. It wasn’t exactly breaking news—he’d harbored feelings for her for a long time. Still, every time you looked at Persephone, you couldn’t help but think of Coriolanus and the story he had told you about her war time stew.

Would you tell one of your close friends that their crush was a cannibal? It seemed unorthodox, even cruel. For all you knew, Persephone herself might not even be aware. But the thought lingered, unsettling you as you moved through the uneventful lunch period. At least, this time, when people sent food or water, the drones didn’t crash. You had one of the other Gamemakers bring you whatever was being served—a small sandwich, nothing remarkable.

Later in the afternoon, You had the Gamemakers reduce the mentor seats to twelve, leaving only space for those whose tributes were still in the Games. “It makes it easier for the audience to keep track of who’s still a contender,” you told them, instructing them to keep removing seats as more tributes fell. A grim game of musical chairs, but with real consequences. The decision seemed to make livia even more bitter, if that was possible. You felt a twinge of sympathy—but only a small one. What caught your attention more was how this change forced Coriolanus closer to Clemencia, who remained scaley, snake-like, and entirely focused on him, her glare never wavering.

As the afternoon stretched on, your exhaustion caught up with you. Your head grew heavier, and at one point, a fellow Gamemaker had to nudge you awake—twice. Perhaps it was fortunate that so little was required of you today, given how last night had nearly killed you.

Tributes remained mostly hidden until late in the day when the Hunger Games finally delivered the kind of action audiences expected. The girl from District 5—a wiry, forgettable thing whose name escaped you—was caught wandering the arena. Lucky Flickerman managed to connect her to her equally forgettable mentor, Iphigenia Moss, the daughter of the man who oversaw agriculture and the distribution of food across Panem.

Contrary to expectations, Iphigenia always seemed on the verge of malnutrition. She had a reputation for giving her school lunches to classmates, sometimes blacking out from hunger. Festus had once mentioned that it was her only form of revenge against her father, though he refused to elaborate. True to form, Iphigenia funneled every bit of food she could to her tribute. But even as the drones made their long trek across the arena, the trio of Coral, Tanner, and Mizzen emerged from the tunnels, hunting.

After a brief chase along the bleachers, they surrounded the District 5 girl. Coral ended it with a trident to the throat, making you cringe.

“Well, that’s that,” Lucky said, unable to recall the girl’s name.

When prompted, Iphigenia had already left the dais. “Her name was Sol. Or maybe Sal,” the reporter said with a shrug.

“Not much more to tell.”

“Nice job getting her to the second day, alibina,” Lucky added.

“It’s Iphigenia,” she corrected over her shoulder as she exited, not bothering to glance back.

“Right,” Lucky continued smoothly. “And that means we’re down to just eleven tributes left!”

Thank God, you thought. I’m one step closer to finally going home.

The rest of the day passed without much excitement, and as you were finally being dismissed—something you were immensely grateful for—Lucy Gray made an entrance.

You groaned aloud as she sprinted out of a tunnel, her braid unraveling, her hair flying wild behind her. In your head, you were already hoping that one of the trio—maybe Coral—would kill her just to get this over with. Then you could finally go home.

But before you could even guess what was chasing her, Jessup staggered out of the same tunnel. At first, you thought he was wounded—maybe he’d been protecting Lucy Gray. They were from the same district, so it made sense that they would have formed a pact. But if they were allies, why had she run?

As the cameras zoomed in, it became clear that Jessup wasn’t injured—he was sick. Stiff, feverish, twitching with erratic movements. He swiped at the sun, crouched, then sprang to his feet again in an unsettling cycle. His behavior made your skin crawl.

Your first thought was poison. Had Coriolanus’s little songbird found a way to get rid of her own ally? But that seemed unlikely. Jessup was a valuable protector, especially with those other tributes prowling around. Any number of things in that arena could have sickened him—contaminated water, spoiled food.

But then, you saw the telltale foam bubbling over his lips.

Oh, God, you thought.

Jessup had rabies.

Rabies had made a comeback in the Capitol during the war, with doctors needed in the field and medical faculties and supply lines compromised by the bombings. Medical treatment had been sketchy for humans, and for a lot of people, it had become essentially nonexistent. Pampered pets were no longer a priority when people couldn’t even afford bread.

How it began remained a matter of debate—an infected coyote from the mountains, a nocturnal encounter with a bat—but the dogs spread it. Most of them were starving, abandoned casualties of the war themselves. From dog to dog, then to people, the violent strain developed with unprecedented speed, killing over a dozen Capitol citizens before a vaccination program brought it under control. You remembered the posters alerting people to the warning signs in both animals and humans, adding just one more potential threat to your world.

And poor Jessup had been bitten—by what, you weren’t sure. But it was on the neck. The quicker the virus reached the brain, the quicker you died. And of course, he was half-starved and weak. Poor Jessup, you thought. Even his death had to be horrible.

The recognition of Jessup’s illness put the audience on edge, setting off a wave of comments thick with fear and revulsion.

“Rabies? How did he get that? Must’ve come from the district.”

“I bet he’s gonna infect the whole city.”

“A little unprecedented, but not after seeing it spread through the city once.”

“The Capitol should just put him down. They knew he had it before he tried to spread it around like some apocalypse.”

The students seemed to draw back into their seats, not wanting to miss anything, but the murmurs of unease were unmistakable. The disease dredged up childhood memories of public warnings, and no one wanted to see its horrors play out again. You stayed silent, watching Jessup zigzag across the arena in Lucy Gray’s direction. There was no telling what was going on in his mind. Under normal circumstances, maybe he’d protect her, maybe not. But he had clearly lost his reason. If she had any sense, she’d run for her life.

The cameras tracked Lucy Gray as she sprinted across the arena, scrambling up the broken wall into the stands. The press box occupied a midway position, somehow spared in the bombings. She stopped a moment, panting, considering Jessup’s erratic pursuit. Then she made for the debris of the nearby concession stand. The skeleton of its frame remained, but the center had been blasted to bits and the roof flung thirty feet away, strewn with bricks and boards. It was an obstacle course as she traveled until she planted herself at the top of the mess. The Gamemakers took advantage of her stillness, zooming in for a close-up.

Much to your delight, she looked like hell. You didn’t know why you disliked her so much—you just did. And you weren’t sure you were ready to tackle the whole of that dislike just yet.

An order for a bottle of water came through from Coriolanus, which you approved with little interest, sending a drone out. Jessup, meanwhile, had made his way across the arena, climbing into the stands after Lucy Gray. His balance wavered as he entered the debris field. He fell twice, with such force that he opened gashes on his knee and temple. The second wound produced a fair amount of blood. He sat, somewhat stunned, reaching a trembling hand toward Lucy Gray, his mouth moving, but only foam dripped from his chin.

Lucy Gray remained motionless, watching Jessup with a pained expression. The scene created a strange tableau—rabid boy, trapped girl, bombed-out building—a tale that could only end in tragedy. Star-crossed lovers meeting their fate? A revenge story turned inward? A war saga that took no prisoners?

Just die already, you thought. Enough with the dramatics.

A drone carrying the water flew into the arena. Lucy Gray lifted her face, tracking its wobbly progress. Her tongue flicked across her lips in anticipation. However, as it passed over Jessup, something in him registered the sight. A shudder raked through his body. He swung at the drone with a broken board, and it crashed into the stands, the water pouring out of the cracked bottle. That was when he truly lost it.

Suddenly, five more water orders came through from Coriolanus. Then ten. You approved them absentmindedly, wondering what he was trying to do. And then it clicked. Hydrophobia. Rabies victims couldn’t swallow and went wild at the sight of water.

Clever, you thought, glancing down at the screen where Coriolanus seemed to be arguing with Sejanus. You couldn’t make out what they were saying.

Lucy Gray had worked herself into a tight spot. To her left was the high back wall of the arena; to her right, the thick glass side of the press box. As Jessup continued his pursuit, she made several attempts to escape him, but he kept cutting her off. When he came within twenty feet, she spoke to him, holding out her hand in a soothing manner. It stopped him, but only momentarily before he lunged again.

Across the arena, the first bottle of water began its flight toward her. The machine was steady and true in its course—a rare feat that disappointed you, given the drones’ tendency to crash. The small fleet that followed was more unpredictable. As soon as Lucy Gray spotted them, she stopped retreating, patting the ruffles of her skirt over a pocket, checking for something. Then she pointed at the drones, shouting, and succeeded in turning Jessup’s attention toward them.

Jessup froze, his eyes bulging with fear. The drones closed in. He batted at them but failed to connect. Then they started releasing the bottles of water. The impact of the first smacking into the seats sent him into a frenzy. When the contents of one splashed onto his hand, he recoiled as if burned by acid.

He turned to flee, bounding down toward the field, but another dozen drones arrived and bombarded him. Since they were programmed to deliver directly to the tribute, there was no escaping them. He flew toward the front row seats, his foot caught, and he tripped forward—hurtling over the arena wall and onto the field.

The sickening crack of snapping bones filled the speakers. The audience gasped. Even you felt queasy. Jessup had landed in a rare pocket of the arena with good audio. He lay on his back, motionless except for the heaving of his chest. The remaining bottles rained down on him, his lips curled back, his eyes locked unblinkingly on the bright sun glinting off the water.

Lucy Gray darted down the steps and hung over the railing. “Jessup!” she shouted.

You weren’t interested. You were tired. You wanted to go home. So you did. You told the Gamemakers to keep things running until the students left, then dismissed them as well. And with that, you made your way out of Heavensbee Hall.

Imagine you being Will’s and Jonathan’s Sister:

and Vecna/Henry/001 takes a liking towards you..:

SOMEBODY PLEASE WRITE THIS!

Also your Jonathan’s twin!

MASTERLIST

I honestly meant to make/mention this a while ago but I forgot💀

BUT!! Here is my wattpad where I have 2 stories that are both published a Coriolanus Snow Fanfic and a Henry creel/001 Imagines+others. That I am slowly working on them! So no i didn’t forget!! and my TikTok where I make edits!! 🫶🏻

So please go check them out and follow (if you want💀😂) :)

Links:

Okay! Imagine Animals by Maroon 5 for a Possessive/Yandere? Peter Ballard/Henry Creel/001! Please if somebody does this as a Oneshot/imagine or even a few parts, I love you!

ABSOLUTELY PERFECTION as always!!

Me because every time theirs an update:

Shadows of Affection

warnings: despriction of death

slow burn Coriolanus Snow x reader, slight Felix Ravinstill x reader

Chapter 14: Slow Start

The Capitol news found short-lived relief by streaming footage of the plaza in front of the arena, where concession stands had been set up to sell drinks and sweets to citizens watching the Games on two massive screens flanking the entrance. With little happening inside the arena, most of the attention ended up on a pair of dogs whose owner had dressed them up as Lucy Gray and Jessup.

You rolled your eyes. You didn’t understand why people were so obsessed with them—especially Lucy Gray. The girl wasn’t anything special. She was a glorified carnival clown who just happened to be good at singing.

Bored and having nothing else to do but monitor the Games—which weren’t progressing at all—you barely noticed the approach of one of the Gamemakers until they cleared their throat beside you. You turned to see a frazzled-looking assistant clutching a clipboard.

“Dr. Gaul is busy,” they said hastily. “She needs you to do a quick interview with Lucky Flickerman.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Why me?”

The assistant gave a helpless shrug. “Because you’re available.”

You exhaled sharply. Of course. You had nothing better to do. Might as well entertain the masses. “Fine.”

A few minutes later, you were seated across from Lucky Flickerman, who looked a little too relieved to see you. He’d become visibly frazzled under the strain of keeping the coverage going despite the stagnant Games, and you figured he was desperate for any content to fill the gaps. The countdown began—three, two, one—and the camera’s red light blinked on. Lucky threw up his hands in bewilderment.

“So, what gives?” he exclaimed, forcing a smile. “What’s up with these slow Games?”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. Instead, you turned directly to the camera, ignoring his performative frustration.

“Some of you may be wondering about the slow start to the Games,” you said smoothly. “But let me remind you what a wild ride it’s been just getting here. Over a third of the tributes never even made it into the arena, and those who did weren’t exactly powerhouses. In terms of fatalities, we’re running neck and neck with last year.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Lucky admitted, still smiling, “but I think I speak for a lot of people when I say—where are the tributes this year? Usually, they’re easier to spot.”

You could almost feel a vein popping in your forehead. You inhaled through your nose, schooling your expression. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten about the recent bombings,” you said icily. “In previous years, the areas open to the tributes were largely restricted to the field and the stands. But last week’s attack opened up any number of cracks and crevices, providing easy access to the labyrinth of tunnels inside the arena walls. It’s a whole new game now—first finding another tribute, then luring them out of some very dark corners.”

Lucky’s smile faltered. “Oh.” He blinked, visibly processing the explanation before quickly rebounding. “So we might have seen the last of some tributes?”

“Don’t worry.” You smirked slightly. “When they get hungry, they’ll start poking their heads out.”

Lucky didn’t seem thrilled by the answer, but he pressed on. “That’s another game changer, isn’t it? With the audience providing food, these Games could last indefinitely.”

You arched a brow. “Indefinitely?” You let out a short, humorless laugh. “Maybe you can pull another magic trick to keep people interested.”

Lucky stiffened. He clearly didn’t appreciate the jab at his little gimmicks, but instead of acknowledging it, he forced out a chuckle. “Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” he said, recovering. “We all want a good show, after all!”

The interview wrapped up shortly after, and as soon as the camera light clicked off, Lucky shot you a quick, dirty look before standing up.

You merely smirked back at him, entirely unbothered.

At 5 o’clock, Dean Highbottom dismissed the student body, but the remaining 13 mentors with tributes stayed behind, largely because the Communicuffs only worked through transmitters at the Academy or the Capitol News station itself. This also meant the Gamemakers including yourself had to stay as well, much to your annoyance. By 7 o’clock, a real dinner appeared for the so-called "talent." Your excitement and hunger quickly vanished as you looked at the pork chops and potatoes. The meat looked tasty and fresh, but all you could think about was Marcus’s corpse. The image of his lifeless body, left for the maggots, flashed through your mind, and your appetite disappeared entirely. Felix, however, had no problem digging into the food.

He shot you a curious glance between bites. “You okay? You’ve barely touched your food.”

You shrugged, stirring your potatoes with your fork. “Not that hungry.”

Felix leaned back in his chair, dramatically sighing. “You know, we had dinner plans tonight. Somewhere nice, just the two of us. No blood, no bombs, no corpse-inspired loss of appetite.” He gestured around the room. “And now look at us. Stuck here.”

You gave him a small smirk. “Yeah, well, I didn’t expect the games to go on this long either. But surely, they’ll only last another day.”

Felix quirked an eyebrow. “You never know. Might stretch overnight.”

You exhaled, shaking your head. “Doubt it.”

“Optimistic as always.” He flashed you a teasing grin before going back to his meal.

As Felix finished up, some activity in the arena pulled the mentors back to their seats, and you decided to stay with them, trusting that the other Gamemakers could handle things for a little while. The Gamemakers’ screens showed Circ, the District 3 boy, crawling out of a barricade near the entrance. He looked around before waving someone forward—a small, scruffy girl with dark, frizzy hair scrambled after him. Above them, Lamina, still napping on the beam, cracked one eye open to assess their threat level.

“No worries, my sweet Lamina,” Pup cooed at the screen. “Those two couldn’t climb a stepladder.”

Apparently, Lamina agreed, because all she did was shift into a more comfortable position.

Lucky Flickerman appeared in the corner of the screen, dabbing a napkin at his collar where a smudge of blueberry clung to his chin. “For those just tuning in, our District 3 tributes are finally on the move! That’s Circ—the boy who claims he can ignite things with his glasses—and, uh…” Lucky glanced off-screen for a cue card. “Test… Teslee from Three?”

“She’s being mentored by our own—” Lucky looked off-screen again, searching.

“That would be our own Urban Canville,” grumbled Urban from the first row. his parents were some sort of scientists—physicists, maybe. Urban was ill-tempered and universally resented for his perfect calculus scores. You, in particular, had a small rivalry with him, since last time you checked, he was just one point behind you in class rank.

“Honestly, could they get a professional?” you muttered under your breath.

“Unfortunately, we didn’t see Turban—uh Urban and, Teslee—at the interviews,” Lucky said quickly, clearly flustered. “Because she refused to speak to me.”

“Somehow immune to his charms,” quipped Festus from the back row, earning a round of laughter. Even you let out a small snicker.

“I’m sending Circ something now—no telling when I’ll see him again,” Io announced, working her Communicuff. You noticed Urban doing the same. You shot the Gamemakers a look that silently screamed, Don’t mess up the drones this time.

Circ and Teslee skirted around Marcus’s body, crouching down to examine the wrecked drones from earlier. Their hands moved delicately over the equipment, assessing the damage, probing over compartments most people wouldn’t have noticed. Circ pulled a rectangular object—you thought it was a battery—from one of them and gave Teslee a thumbs up. She reattached some wires, and the drone’s lights blinked to life. They grinned at each other.

“Oh my!” Lucky exclaimed. “Something exciting happening here?”

“It would be more exciting if they had the controllers,” Urban muttered, though he looked a little less irritated.

The two tributes were still examining the drones when two more flew in, dropping bread and water nearby—thankfully, without crashing this time. As Circ and Teslee gathered their gifts, a figure appeared deep in the arena. They consulted briefly before each grabbing a drone and scurrying back to the barricade.

The figure turned out to be Reaper, who ducked into a tunnel and emerged carrying someone in his arms. As the cameras focused in, you recognized Dill. She looked smaller, curled into the fetal position, her sun-dappled skin drenched in sweat. A wet cough brought a strand of bloody spittle from her mouth.

Felix leaned over. “I’m surprised she lasted the day.”

You hummed in response, feeling a pang of pity. She was already dying—a slow death by disease. Putting her in the Games was just adding salt to the wound.

Reaper stepped carefully around the debris from the bombing, carrying Dill to a sunny patch of ground and laying her on a charred piece of wood. She shivered despite the heat. He pointed up at the sun and murmured something, but she didn’t react.

“Isn’t he the one who promised to kill all the others?” Pup asked.

“Doesn’t look so tough to me,” Urban scoffed.

“She’s his district partner,” Listeria reminded them.

“She’s almost dead now. Tuberculosis, probably,” Urban added.

That quieted everyone down. A bad strain of TB still cropped up in the Capitol, barely managed as a chronic condition. In the districts, it was a death sentence.

Reaper paced restlessly for a moment, either eager to get back to hunting or unable to bear watching Dill suffer. Then, he gave her one last pat and turned toward the barricade.

“Shouldn’t you send him something, dummy?” Vipina asked Clemencia.

“What for? He didn’t kill her, he just carried her. I’m not going to reward him for that,” Clemencia shot back.

You, who had been avoiding Clemencia all day, decided you’d made the right choice. Something was off with her—maybe the snake venom had altered her brain.

“Well, I might as well use what little I have left—it’s hers,” Felix said, tapping at his cuff. Two bottles of water flew in by drone. Dill didn’t even seem to notice them.

A few minutes later, the boy from District 7—the juggler, Treech—sprinted out of a tunnel, his black hair flying behind him. Without breaking stride, he grabbed the water and disappeared into a crack in the wall.

“A last drink for her,” Felix mused.

“That’s good thinking,” Vipina said approvingly. “Saves me money. I don’t have much to work with.”

The sun sank toward the horizon, casting long, crimson shadows over the arena. High above, the carrion birds wheeled in slow, lazy circles, their dark silhouettes stark against the fading light. Below them, Dill’s frail body convulsed in the throes of a final, violent coughing fit. A gush of blood soaked through the front of her dress, staining the fabric in a macabre bloom. You swallowed hard, horror and revulsion twisting in your stomach as the life drained from her small, fragile frame.

Lucky Flickerman’s voice cut through the tension, his usual airy tone laced with the false solemnity of a showman. “And with that, our dear Dill, the girl from District 11, has succumbed to natural causes. A tragedy, no doubt—but that, my dear viewers, does mean the end of Felix Ravenstill’s tenure in these Games.” He brightened, clearly pleased by the segue. “Perhaps we can hear a few final words from our departing mentor?”

Someone pulled Felix out from Heavensbee Hall, and a camera zoomed in on him. He didn’t look particularly upset. If anything, he looked resigned. “Well, it isn’t a shock, really,” he said with a careless shrug. “The girl was on her last legs when she got here.”

“I think it’s enormously to your credit that you got her through the interview,” Lucky said sympathetically. “Many mentors didn’t even manage that.”

His words made you feel sick. A girl—a child, no older than twelve or thirteen—had just died. And not from the Games, not from a weapon or a trap or another tribute’s hand. She had died from an illness, something that had been festering long before she ever set foot in the arena. And Felix—Felix didn’t seem to care.

He’s his father’s son, you thought. The man who keeps the Hunger Games going. The man Felix idolizes and wishes to become.

You wondered if Lucky’s high praise had more to do with Felix’s bloodline than his mentorship. But you shook the thought away as the cameras cut back to the arena. The sky had darkened completely now, leaving only the faint silhouette of Laminia, still perched on her beam. Dean Highbottom dismissed everyone, advising mentors to bring a toothbrush and a change of clothes for the future.

One by one, the mentors approached Felix, shaking his hand and congratulating him on a job well done. Most of them meant it—today had bonded them in a way few outsiders would ever understand. When it was your turn, you hesitated, then finally stepped forward. “Congrats,” you said, though the word felt hollow in your mouth.

Felix grinned. “For what? Getting my tribute killed by tuberculosis?”

You rolled your eyes. “For making it through the day. Though, I guess that’s a pretty low bar.”

He chuckled, but his gaze softened. “You heading home?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna walk.”

Felix’s expression turned incredulous. “What? No. It’s late—it’s damn near nine o’clock. I’m not letting you walk home by yourself.”

You sighed. “Felix, I’ll be fine.”

“Just let me call you a driver,” he insisted. “Come on.”

You gave him a flat look. “Really, Felix?”

His jaw tightened, and for once, there was no humor in his voice. “Please.”

You exhaled. “No. Seriously. I’m walking home.”

He studied you for a long moment, then nodded reluctantly. “Alright. But call me as soon as you get home.”

“Fine.”

He hesitated, then leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before pulling away. “Be safe.”

You gave him a small, almost reluctant smile before turning and heading out. He watched until you disappeared into the night, then climbed into his waiting car.

You had barely taken three steps when a voice rang out behind you. “Miss Royce! Miss Royce!”

You turned, frowning as a Gamemaker came running out of Heaven’s Hall, his face pale. “What’s going on?”

The arena was quiet. The tributes had all bedded down for the night. Nothing should be happening right now.

“It’s urgent,” the Gamemaker panted. “Dr. Gaul needs to speak with you immediately.”

Your stomach twisted, dread curling through you. “Why?”

“She didn’t say. Just that you need to come. Now.”

Something was wrong.

Without another word, you followed them to a waiting car. The drive to the lab was silent, save for the hum of the engine. No one explained anything. They didn’t seem to know, but their nervous glances and stiff postures told you everything you needed to—Dr. Gaul was angry. And that was never good.

When you arrived, you were ushered through the sterile halls, the scent of antiseptic burning your nose. The moment you stepped into the lab, you knew something was very, very wrong.

Dr. Gaul stood by a monitor, her expression thunderous. The moment her eyes landed on you, she barked, “You need to put a leash on your deluded, demented friend.”

You blinked. “What?”

Dr. Gaul’s hands slammed against the monitor, and the screen flickered. Your breath caught as the image became clear.

The arena. But—no.

A figure was inside. A figure who wasn’t supposed to be there.

“Sejanus,” you whispered. Your stomach plummeted.

“How did he even get in there?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Why is he in there?”

Dr. Gaul’s face twisted in fury. “I’m working on finding the Peacekeeper he bribed to let him in. Once I do, I’ll remove their tongue myself.” Her voice dripped venom. “In the meantime, someone needs to get him out.”

You stared at her. “Send Peacekeepers. What do you expect me to do?”

Dr. Gaul leaned in, her eyes gleaming. “Oh, I expect you to go in there.”

A chill crawled up your spine. “You can’t be serious.”

“I will not have these rebels making a mockery of my Games,” she snapped. “If the districts see us lose control of the arena, it might as well be an invitation for revolution.”

You barely heard her. Your mind was racing. Sejanus—what was he thinking? And more than that… who else was in there with him?

Dr. Gaul’s voice yanked you back to the present. “I’ll freeze the feed for an hour. That’s all the time you’ll have.”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. The shock had rooted you to the floor.

Dr. Gaul’s eyes narrowed. “We don’t have time for this. Move.”

Your heart pounded. You couldn’t do this alone.

Your hands trembled violently as you reached for the nearest phone and dialed a number you had known all your life. You pressed it to your ear, but your grip was unsteady, slick with sweat.

“Hello?”

“Coryo,” you gasped, barely able to force the words out. “I need you. I need your help. Now.”

There was silence on the other end. Then, cautious, “What? Y/n, what’s wrong?”

“Look at your screen,” you choked out, pacing in frantic, uneven strides. Your breath came in short, panicked bursts. “Please. Just—just look.”

You heard a shuffle, a pause, then a sharp inhale. “What the hell—”

“Meet me at the arena,” you rushed out. “Right now.”

“Y/n, slow down, tell me—”

“No, Coryo, we don’t have time for this!” you snapped, your voice shrill with fear. “Just get to the arena! Please!”

“Y/n—”

You slammed the phone down before he could say another word.

Time was running out.

me to irl men vs fictional men