Arsonist’s Lullaby
“you got a taste for blood when you were licking your own wounds”
summary: You had won your Games at the mere age of fourteen. The days of the arena still haunt your memories, even years after it all had happened.
Now, you find yourself back in the arena, fighting for your life a second time as you struggle to grasp the reality you’re living in.
pairing: genshin x fem!reader
content warnings: lots of blood and gore, heavy angst, character death, panic attacks, ptsd, su!cidal thoughts, su!cide attempts, feral behavior, hallucinations, hospitals, alcohol and drug use
other disclaimers: genshin hunger games au, mc is known to be unhinged bc of trauma, xiao & lumine are katniss & peeta here, mentor venti, a few andrius mentions, fluff and hurt/comfort
ch.1 wc: 4.9k
author’s notes: y’all gonna hate me once this fic ends, cause im killing off a lot of the characters. im sorry in advance.
it took me so long to decide who to include in this fic & who would be part of what district. i included a few of my ocs in here too!
i adore the relationship i created between venti and the mc. it’s literally just father daughter dynamic, but venti is also the mc’s safe space. he understands her so well and knows exactly how to calm her down when she has outbursts.
i couldn’t decide on a singular love interest, so there’s multiple. most of them will die though (sorry not sorry).
plot follows catching fire and mockingjay! there are a few mentions of previous events just for plot purposes.
cross-posted on ao3!
CHAPTER I: silent brewing of a storm
This victor party could’ve been way better than it was. The drinks were bitter, the food was bland, and the outfits were way more extravagant than you would’ve liked.
It almost made you sick thinking about it. You downed another glass of beer and hoped with all your might that you’d get so blasted that you couldn’t feel any nerve in your body.
This was all for show: the parties, the dresses, the accessories… all of it. You hated it here in the capitol where all eyes were on you. You wanted so badly to go back to your home in district seven, to fall onto your couch and cuddle your cat close to your chest as you cried and prayed that you wouldn’t have to spend another day here in the capitol— that you could live the rest of your life peacefully.
You knew that was an empty dream.
Grabbing yet another glass to drown your sorrows, a hand pulled it from your grasp just as the rim was about to meet your parted lips.
“I think that’s enough alcohol for one night, huh wolfie? I’m surprised they let you off the leash.”
That voice. A headache began to pound against your skull. Of course your mortal enemy had to come and ruin your already sour night.
“Go away, Ajax.” His name felt like a burden on your lips. Upon hearing your slurred words, he frowned.
“Now now, if I let you go on your own, you’d drink the last of the capitol’s reserves. You’d finally catch up to Venti,” he joked, taking a sip from the glass he had snatched from you. His face twisted in disgust. “Gross. What is this?”
You rolled your eyes. “Beer.”
Ajax made a disgusted noise as he placed the glass on the table you were leaning against. “How can you stand that stuff?” he asked, watching as you shrugged. “Does that alcoholic mentor of yours have you addicted now?”
Venti was your mentor— a former victor, and a man who had won his games at the age of twelve; the first year his name was put in. He was the youngest victor in history, which naturally gave him a surplus of popularity within the capitol. Now, he was well into his early thirties, yet his youthful glow still lingered. He didn’t look a day over sixteen.
How? That was the world’s greatest mystery.
Scanning the room, you found him passed out on one of the tables, a wine bottle still clutched tightly in his limp hand that hung off the side of the table. His cape and vest were long gone, discarded elsewhere in the room as he was left only in his corset, dress shirt, and dress pants.
You awkwardly turned away from the sight. When he was mentoring you, it had been hard to get him to be serious. when he was serious, he was the best mentor the capitol had ever seen.
He was way better than Ajax’s mentor, that was for sure. You had only met Skirk once, and in those five seconds, she had completely blasted your self confidence to bits. Needless to say, you prayed on her downfall after that.
“Nonsense,” you spoke, your voice hoarse. “Venti could drink the entire nation’s supplies in one gulp if he could. Drain the entire capitol’s wine industry to the ground.”
Ajax snickered into his glass of red wine before taking a more lengthy sip. He sighed in relief afterwards and handed the empty glass to a nearby waiter. “Can’t argue with that. Hey, how ‘bout we get out of here, huh?”
You sent him a teasing look. “You sure you wanna get involved with me? According to Andrius, I’m dangerous.” You grabbed a glass full of beer and chugged it down before making your way over to Venti.
It was true. Andrius, an older man who had been Venti’s mentor for his games, had an impeccable intuition. As soon as he had laid eyes on you in the capitol, he didn’t hesitate to tell you and Venti that you would be incredibly dangerous if you ended up winning your games. Except… there was no “if” when he told you.
Confidently, he stated in a rough voice,
“You will be so dangerous that even the capitol won’t be able to control you.”
Venti had told you that Andrius told him the exact same thing before he entered his games. You later found out that Decarabian, the man who had mentored Andrius and was now long gone, said the exact same thing to Andrius.
You guessed it was tradition for mentors in your district to tell their tributes that. You didn’t yet realize how much weight that statement held.
Ajax followed you, chuckling all the while. “Yeah, I’m well aware. I saw your games. I know you killed eight people at once with an axe and a net. I also know you went batshit crazy after returning from your games. What was the exact word the capitol used? Ah yes, feral.”
You sent him a glare before you lugged Venti off of the table. He pulled the table sheet with him, hitting the floor with a loud thud. You winced at the sound and slapped him over the head with flowers that were previously in a nearby vase. The man startled, babbling on about beer as he began to wake.
“Leave, Ajax— Venti! Get up, you fucking embarrassment! Everyone in the room is staring at us!”
They really weren’t, but you were so used to eyes being on you, that you had a permanent paranoia. You grabbed Venti’s arm and attempted to pull him off the floor. He hiccuped as he stumbled, his half lidded eyes staring at you as you draped one of his arms around your shoulder.
He smiled when he realized it was you. “Ah, if it isn’t my favorite victor! Can I have another beer?”
“No.” You didn’t bother saying goodbye to Ajax as you led Venti towards the exit. “But you can have water when we get back.”
Venti grumbled, only to brighten up again at the sight of a certain white haired gentleman. He waved happily, “Kazuha! Hello!”
Venti hadn’t mentored Kazuha, but they were closely acquainted because Venti was always fussing over you like a mother hen. It was quite adorable that he was so protective over you, but it also felt like he was smothering you at times.
You smiled softly as you made eye contact with Kazuha. You and Kazuha had back to back games. After yours, the capitol considered putting you down like a dog because of how feral you had gotten. However, after your outbursts had slowed down and gotten more under control, they just barely allowed you to live.
If it weren’t for Venti and Andrius advocating for your cause, you most likely would’ve died.
Kazuha’s games were a year after yours. Venti came to you with the idea of mentoring Kazuha shortly after you had started calming down from your trauma. The memories you had wouldn’t go away that quickly, but at least you were learning to cope in a healthy way.
You didn’t like the idea of being a mentor at first, especially since you were so young. You didn’t know the first thing about being a mentor, and you weren’t very good at talking to other people. Venti encouraged you to try, and he co-mentored Kazuha with you since you were so uncooperative.
But because he wasn’t assigned as an official mentor for Kazuha, there were certain times where he couldn’t help you with the right words to say or tell you how to comfort Kazuha. You were on your own, and you eventually got the hang of mentoring, even if you still weren’t the best at communicating with others.
You were always thankful for Kazuha’s patience with you. Not once did he yell at you or tell you that you were doing a shit job. Not once did he push you away or insult you behind your back. Not once did he criticize you or laugh when you relapsed because something triggered you. Instead, he was calm. His presence was comforting, and he always knew what to say to you. He was a good listener, and he was patient. He never crossed any boundaries and he was always kindhearted, even if the games had messed him up the same way they did to you.
Kazuha was the only tribute you mentored, and also your favorite. You understood why Venti acted the way he did with you. It was because he felt the same way towards you, even if you caused way more trouble for him than Kazuha did for you.
The boy in front of you smiled gently as he held your gaze, crimson eyes softening at the sight of you. “Do you want help?”
You snapped out of your daze and shook your head. “It’s okay, but thank you. I got him. He’s my responsibility after all.” You chuckled softly.
Kazuha nodded, though you knew he didn’t believe that you could handle this on your own. After all, you looked just about ready to punch Venti in the face because he kept tugging on your arm. You absolutely despised being touched, but you tried not to mind it when it came to Venti.
You knew his love language was physical touch, and so you were smothered in hugs and forehead kisses before your games. However, after your games, you’d lash out at the mere ghost of a touch on your skin. That resulted in more than a few doctors being killed.
Right now, you were fighting off every voice in your head that was screaming “danger” and tried to focus on just getting Venti back to his room in the hotel you two were staying in.
Kazuha stepped forward, “Are you sure? I don’t mind helping—“
Something in you snapped as you squeezed your eyes shut and shouted, “I have him! I said I’m okay!” You panted heavily as your chest heaved. When you opened your eyes, you were surprised to see that Kazuha was still standing so close to you.
Instead of running away like anyone else would’ve done, he simply smiled warmly at you— sweet and full of kindness. “Okay. At least allow me to go with you just in case.”
A little shaken up, you nodded. Your hands trembled as you continued to lead Venti out of the party venue and outside. Kazuha followed, keeping a reasonable distance from you.
After you safely got Venti into his hotel room, you sighed heavily and collapsed onto the couch, your gown billowing as you did so. A little annoyed at how the fabric itched your skin, you tore the dress off, now being left in your silk chemise that you wore underneath the gown.
Kazuha picked up the gown, gently folding it over the back of the couch. He sat down in a nearby chair, giving you your much needed space. After awhile, you broke the silence that settled between you both.
“I’m sorry,” you muttered. “I didn’t mean to yell back there.”
This happened often, way more often than you would’ve liked. It happened a lot with Venti because he was so persistent, but he was also calm and patient. If he set you off, he’d be right there to calm you down too. He’d apologize and sing comforting songs that made you relax.
Kazuha shook his head. “You don’t need to apologize, I understand.”
After years of being by your side, he learned how to handle any outbursts you have. He first learned how to when you were mentoring him. Both of you had been fifteen at the time.
You would be triggered by something so easily back then. You couldn’t even walk freely because of it. An escort would always be with you, keeping a close eye on you and ensuring you didn’t accidentally kill someone again.
Kazuha had never feared you, even when you lashed out at him a few times during your mentoring. Something would trigger you and you’d leap into an outburst. Nearby peacekeepers would try to interfere, but Venti and your District escort, Signora, would hold you down to the ground and tell security that they had it under control.
Even though you were severely unstable the entire time you mentored Kazuha, somehow someway your mentoring had led him to winning his games.
You could still remember even now, his petrified expression once he realized he was the last one in the arena, and how he broke down into tears the moment you saw him directly afterwards. You could still remember how he hugged you, clinging onto you like a lifeline.
His tear stained face dug into your shoulder, and you turned your back to the cameras so that he could cry in peace. You put your hand on his head to ensure he had at least a little bit of privacy as he cried, and you held him tightly with your eyes squeezed shut until he finally pulled away from you and mustered up a small smile.
You had told him that he didn’t need to force himself to smile, that he could cry into your shoulder as much as he needed to. He shook his head, saying that his tears had already dried up. That was obviously a lie, as when you went to leave him that night, he scrambled out of bed and begged you to stay with him. His voice had been so shaky when he told you he was scared of being alone because of his traumatic memories in the arena.
You stayed with him every night until the pain got somewhat better. Due to your own experiences, you couldn’t sleep. You’d stay awake, staring up at the ceiling and being a comforting presence for Kazuha if he had a nightmare.
The games had affected him almost the same way they did to you. There was one huge difference though: you left the games as a killer, while he left as a survivor.
You had killing tendencies after your games, while he was left with nightmares of someone targeting him. The both of you had very different types of trauma and dealt with it in two very different ways, but you stood by each other through it all. And now, you could confidently call him your best friend— besides Venti.
As Kazuha left for the night, promising that he would check back in on you in the morning, you made your way back into Venti’s room. The man was sleeping soundly on the bed, the covers all askew and one of his legs hanging off the side of the bed. You smiled at the sight and sat down next to him.
You pushed his bangs away from his face and gently placed a kiss to his forehead. Tomorrow, you’d help him nurse a hangover, and you’d be there right as he woke up, just like he always was for you.
The train ride back to District 7 was more than peaceful. Due to your sensitivity to loud noises, Venti and Signora decided to take their constant arguing to another room while you and Kazuha sat in silence.
The white haired man across from you was wearing a pair of glasses while he skimmed through a book. After his games, his eyes were banged up real good and he had to get glasses for things like reading.
You always thought they looked good on him, which made him feel better about wearing them. Silently studying the man in front of you, you noticed his cheeks beginning to turn a faint shade of pink.
Kazuha was undoubtedly very pretty— so pretty you found yourself staring at him for long periods of time whenever you were with him. He usually didn’t mind, or at least, pretended like it didn’t bother him. It really didn’t bother him, but it made him quite flustered.
He should’ve been used to the staring by now, but the truth was that he wasn’t. He softly cleared his throat and avoided your gaze, “Everything alright? Do you want me to go get Venti?”
The fact that he knew you so well to the point where he knew when you needed Venti made your heart melt. You meekly shook your head.
“No… I’m fine.”
“If you say so,” he muttered.
He was able to tell whenever you needed Venti’s support. There was always this look in your eye that told him that you needed Venti to be with you at that moment, and you were currently making that face despite telling him that everything was alright.
Venti was your safe person, your lifeline. If anything was wrong with you, he’d always be right by your side in a heartbeat. It made Kazuha feel a little pang inside his chest, even though he knew that you didn’t see Venti that way. That you and Venti were more akin to a father and daughter dynamic than anything.
Kazuha met your prying eyes. “I’ll be right back-“
“I said I’m fine!” you called after him, a little agitated that he wasn’t listening to you.
He waved you off despite your protests, and Venti was rushing in a second later, his eyes blown wide with worry and panic and his heart beating fast. He had thought that you had one of your outbursts again.
As soon as he saw your relaxed form, his shoulders relaxed and he let out a huge sigh of relief. “You had me worried something happened again,” he muttered before taking a seat next to you. You immediately moved to curl into his side like a cat.
You weren’t a huge fan of physical touch unless you were the one initiating it because of past trauma. Often times, you opted for no physical touch whatsoever, even if it was something so small as holding hands or a brush of a touch against your skin.
The smallest bit of touch could set you off on most occasions. It could have you screaming and gasping for air, clouding your brain with one word: danger.
Venti understood this, and so he never initiated anything with you. If he wanted to give you a hug, he wouldn’t unless you asked him for one. If he wanted to kiss your forehead, he wouldn’t unless you told him he could. He was always careful, making sure not to trigger an outburst or send you into a panic attack.
“I’m fine,” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest.
Venti huffed, “I don’t mean to scare you, but if you so much as look at anyone the wrong way, the peacekeepers won’t hesitate to put you in chains again.”
You knew what he was talking about.
After your games, you had gone a little batshit crazy because of your trauma. You refused to let any doctors treat you because you were scared of being touched. Venti and Signora had tried to hold you down, but it only made matters worse.
It wasn’t until they realized why you were making such a fuss that they tried to calm you down, but at that point it had been too late. Your brain was already clouded and filled with thoughts of getting away from whoever was touching you. You were seeing them as threats, and they didn’t know how else to calm you down other than sedate you.
When you woke up, you were strapped to the hospital bed, which made things even worse . You screamed and kicked, until Venti had rushed in with a panicked look on his face and a kind smile. The familiar sight made you relax a little, just enough for him to distract you from the doctors who were just trying to do their job.
You were deemed too unstable to be left alone, and so Venti decided to join you in Victor’s Village. He lived with you for the next two years, and his comforting presence was what helped you to find healthy coping mechanisms.
For an entire year after your games, you were put in chains because of your tendencies to lash out at anyone who got within five feet of you. You had killed multiple doctors by that point, and when the capitol attempted to turn you into their plaything, you absolutely lost it. You killed every client until the capitol had enough and tried to put you down like a dog.
That was when Venti and Andrius intervened, advocating for your cause and defending you because you were just a poor, traumatized fourteen year old girl who would never be the same again. All you had wanted was to go back home to district seven and forget about everything that happened in that arena.
Your games had been way too traumatizing, and way too bloody. You refused to ever speak up on it again, and everyone knew better than to ask you about it— lest they end up dead.
“I just want to go home,” you whispered.
In truth, you had no home to return to. The capitol had taken everything from you: your childhood, your innocence, your life, your sanity, and your family. There was no one else except Venti and Kazuha left— your only last traces of home.
Signora was technically part of that home, too. She was the district seven escort, and also the woman who fashioned outfit designs for you. She was a hopeless romantic at heart, and she always loved having girl time with you before your games.
Afterwards though, you were too traumatized to say or do anything with her. You clung onto Venti like a lifeline, and your relationship with her all but fell apart. If it weren’t for Venti bringing you both back together through Kazuha, then you probably wouldn’t have ever spoken with her again.
Now, you were back on good terms with her. Though, you were still a little too unstable for her to deal with. You could sense that she missed having lively conversations with you over tea and sharing a plate of coffee cake, but anything could set you off at any moment— like a grenade. This made her keep her distance, as she was not that good at comforting others or dealing with people with PTSD.
That only resulted in you becoming closer to Venti, though you knew that even if you had become close with Signora, you probably still would’ve been closer with your mentor.
“I know, cecilia.”
There it was, that nickname that always brought you back to reality. No matter what you were going through, that nickname that Venti had given you always seemed to ease your mind and calm your nerves. You clung onto him tighter, afraid he might disappear if you let go.
He hesitantly placed a hand on your back, unsure if you were okay with reciprocated touch right now. When you didn’t show any signs of tensing up, he gently rubbed circles into your back with his thumb.
Eventually, you fell asleep.
Your “welcome home” was not a welcome at all. After arriving in district seven, the three of you disembarked the train and made your way back to your houses.
The people bid small hellos to Kazuha and Venti, who both returned their greetings with kind smiles and greetings of their own. However, as soon as the people saw you, they shuffled out of the way and went dead silent. They refused to meet your eyes.
Venti quickly led you back to your shared home, easing both yours and the people’s worries. You sighed in relief upon arriving back home, immediately flopping onto the couch and curling into a ball.
“Andrius wanted to stop by and see you,” Venti told you, rummaging the kitchen cabinets for a mug. He could tell you could use some warm tea right about now. “But I know how much you hate visitors.”
You hadn’t had visitors in years, but Andrius was different. You perked up at the mention of him, meeting Venti’s brilliant eyes. “Not if it’s him,” you said with a small smile.
If Venti was like a parental figure for you, then Andrius was like your grandfather. Although he preferred to be alone most of the time, he would occasionally come to visit just to see how you and Venti were doing. He would stay for just a little while, with Venti offering him something to eat or drink. He would ask you a few questions about your current mentality and your overall health.
If you hesitated to answer, he took that as a sign that you weren’t doing so well. Venti would often speak for you, carrying the conversation because he knew how much you hated talking. Despite your lack of interaction in that regard, you quite liked Andrius’ company. That, and he usually brought small gifts with him whenever he visited.
They weren’t anything special, just some snacks he knee you liked or some wooden carvings he recently finished and wanted to give to you. You had a few of them sitting on your windowsill from the last time you saw him.
The simple three knock pattern alerted you immediately, and you all but jumped up from your spot on the couch to go open the door. Venti chuckled at your excitement, watching in amusement as you threw open the door to greet Andrius.
The steadily aging man donned some wrinkles and a few gray hairs now. His bright blue eyes were significantly duller than the last time you peered into them, and his usually combed back navy hair was rather messy.
He held a neatly wrapped gift in his hands. Upon seeing you, he attempted a small smile. You knew he wasn’t one to smile or show much emotion in the first place, so you were surprised with the sight in front of you.
You stepped aside to allow him in, and he chuckled softly. “I see you still have it smelling like pine and cinnamon in here.”
“Of course!” Venti chimed in from the kitchen. He set down three mugs of tea in the living room. “Perfect timing! I just made us some tea.”
“Tea?” Andrius asked incredulously, almost as if he was offended. “What happened to all the alcohol?”
You smiled as you took a seat on the couch again. Grabbing your own mug of tea, you took a lengthy sip. “Venti finally drank it all.”
Andrius sat down in a chair across from you and shook his head with a knowing look. “I’m surprised it took him this long.”
“Hey!” Venti collapsed onto the couch next to you. “I’m not that bad!”
You were silent for a moment as you eyed the bottle of wine in his hands. It took one glance from you for him to whine and complain that he didn’t have a drinking problem. Which, of course, was a lie, but you knew the reason why he had a drinking problem in the first place.
It was all to forget what he experienced in the arena.
Everyone had different ways of coping, and not all of those were considered healthy. Andrius turned to smoking after his games as a way for him to cope with his overwhelming win. Venti turned to drinking, washing away all of his sorrows with way too much alcohol. And you?
You just dealt with it. At least, that’s what you claimed to do, but the scars on your arms and legs said otherwise. They told stories of dark nights alone on your bathroom floor, sobbing as you smudged your thumb over the new line of crimson that tainted your skin.
You got away with it for awhile… until Venti finally caught you in the act and had a breakdown right there with you on the floor. You could still remember the way he hugged you so tightly even though you tried to push him away. You could still remember the way he cried and how he promised he’d always be there for you.
It stopped after that day, but the reminders of your unhealthy coping mechanisms still lingered on your skin even now.
A small beep interrupted this oddly domestic moment you were sharing with Venti and Andrius. You flinched at the noise, the sound almost sending you into a panic attack before Venti gently shushed you and managed to calm you down. A second later, the screen of your tv lit up with the face of the wonderful President, Phanes.
The sight of her face had you lurching out of your seat. Venti abruptly pulled you back, immediately letting go of you when you looked like you wanted to punch his face in.
“It’s just an announcement,” Andrius reassured you in a somewhat comforting tone. “It’s about time for the annual games, it’s only natural that there would be an announcement.”
You nodded at his words, trying to calm your beating heart by repeating his words over and over again in your head. It was just an announcement.
You quickly found that it was more than just an announcement once Phanes issued that all previous victors were to be reaped again at the next annual reaping.
Everything faded into nothing. You remembered hearing a bloodcurdling scream as your heartbeat echoed loudly in your ears and your vision went blurry. You remembered being tackled to the ground by someone stronger than you, and you could vaguely remember the scent of metallic iron.
When you woke up, your eyes met Kazuha’s, and your heart dropped to your stomach once the events of a few hours prior flooded into your brain.
You would have to be reaped again.
author’s notes: chapters after this point will be extremely long, therefore it’ll take me awhile to write them. please be patient with me 🙏
and in the meantime, feel free to read my other works!
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