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#the hunger games au
floralcyanide · 23 hours
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⊱ 𝑆𝑡𝑎𝑦 𝐺𝑜𝑙𝑑 ― 𝐶𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑢𝑠 𝑆𝑛𝑜𝑤 ⊰
[ ᴀ ʜᴜɴɢᴇʀ ɢᴀᴍᴇs ᴀʟᴛᴇʀɴᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ ғᴀɴғɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ]
1960s ᴜs ᴘʀᴇsɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ᴄᴀɴᴅɪᴅᴀᴛᴇ!ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜs sɴᴏᴡ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑖𝑣𝑒 (ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠): 𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑟
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౨ৎ 18+ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀs ᴏɴʟʏ !
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⊹ summary: a run down of the events after new year's eve. ⊹ pairing: young!coriolanus snow / fem!reader ⊹ warnings: innuendo, the insinuation of smoking, mentions of alcohol ⊹ word count: 1139 ⊹ author’s note: sorry for the wait, but I decided to make the rest of the series headcanons instead of actual chapters. it is quite exhausting to write sometimes, and there's so much to this series that I'd rather do it this way. thanks for all of your support. this is my favorite series I've written so far. (:
౨ৎ divider credit: @cafekitsune
౨ৎ sᴇʀɪᴇs ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ | sᴇʀɪᴇs sᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ | sᴇʀɪᴇs ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ
౨ৎ this fic has been cross posted to ao3.
ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.
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❝A man does what he must—in spite of personal consequences, in spite of obstacles and dangers and pressures - and that is the basis of all human morality.❞ ― John F. Kennedy
✲ Coriolanus is leading in the polls so far for the 1964 election, but there’s a problem. He has yet to marry, and this is peculiar to many hesitant voters. Jack and Bobby both talk to him about this when they all gather in Coriolanus’ office to discuss their next steps.
✲ “I think the girl studying Jack would be a great contender,” Bobby suggests.
✲ Jack laughs incredulously at his brother, “I am not going to send off my student to marry a politician when she has so much ahead of her.”
✲ Coriolanus shuffles uncomfortably. The two of you have been secretly seeing each other here and there since that past New Year’s Eve, and it’s now the middle of April. The thought of just popping the question to you has crossed his mind, but he didn’t want to ruin the good things going for you. 
✲ Other problems more dangerous than marriage plague Coriolanus. The Women’s Revolution, the movement for Women’s rights, has reached new heights in their tension with the government. Coriolanus has been questioned about it by journalists and citizens alike. He firmly stands by his goal of women’s equal rights being passed into law.
✲ Jack offers Coriolanus the chance to come back to the Compound in the summer to finish up campaign strategies and kick back for a while. Little does Coriolanus know that Jack offered for you to return as well to finish up your dissertation. He wants to test Bobby’s theory of you and Coriolanus being together. Hopefully, you can finish up your project before Coriolanus makes a move.
✲ You arrive at the Compound, much to John Jr. and Caroline’s delight, as they run down the front stairs to you. You clamber out of the car, and the Secret Service removes your luggage. The kids cling to your legs as you laugh down at them. You glance up to see Coriolanus at the top of the stairs, and you do a double take.
✲ “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming here?” you ask, a grin growing on your face. It had been about a month since you’d seen Coriolanus. “It was a last-minute decision,” he shrugs. 
✲ That first day, you, Jack, Coriolanus, and Jackie go out on the boat and have a few drinks. You all catch up, and Jackie gives you knowing looks the whole time. You and Coriolanus avoid the elephant in the room regarding you two.
✲ The evening creeps up, and you and Coriolanus sneak to the fire pit after dinner. “Have I told you about my vice president?” “No, not yet. What’s he like?” “His name is Sejanus Plinth, I think you two would get along very well.”
✲ After you and Coriolanus discuss Sejanus, he asks a question after a moment of silence. “Have you ever tried the shit that Jack smokes?” “Not really, but it smells peculiar,” you say, “Why?” “You seriously don’t know what it is?” Coriolanus chuckles. “Well, it can’t be tobacco, so,” you trail off, realizing what the substance is, “Oh. I see.” Coriolanus laughs at you again before pulling a joint out of his pocket, “Wanna smoke some?”
✲ Coriolanus sneaks into your room that night just to sleep in the same bed as you.
✲ You and Coriolanus become prone to sneaking and doing daring things. One night, after everyone has gone to bed, Coriolanus drags you to the garage, where the two of you take Jack’s convertible out for a spin. Without the Secret Service. Coriolanus drives down a back road alongside the coast, where your arms are thrown into the air as the wind gusts past your hair. Coriolanus looks over at you, knowing then and there he needs to marry you. There’s no one else, and there never would be. 
✲ Coriolanus takes you out on a beautiful date in Boston at the fanciest restaurant in the city, which was suggested by Jack and Jackie. 
✲ When you get to the bottom of your champagne glass, something hits your lips. You jump in surprise and slide it out of the glass when you pull it away from you. It’s a stunning diamond ring, the gem itself huge. The band is a simple white gold, and you look up at Coriolanus, who has now moved to kneel before you. 
✲ “I know this is quite sudden and out of nowhere, but there’s no one else like you. And I don’t think I can go on without you being mine forever,” Coriolanus has his hand on your knee, a hand out so he can place the ring on your finger, “Say yes, and I’ll give you everything you could possibly want.” “I think I have everything I could possibly want right in front of me, Coryo.” “So, you’ll marry me, darling?” “Yes, Coryo. I will definitely marry you!”
✲ The next day, it’s splattered all over the press that presidential candidate Coriolanus Snow is engaged to be married to little old you, the student under President John F. Kennedy. Bobby is beside himself, and Jackie hugs you, whispering in your ear how she knew you two would end up together.
✲ It’s now the middle of summer, and the wedding day is coming soon. You decided to get married on the beach outside the compound where you and Coriolanus met. The entire Kennedy family is invited, and your friends from university, as well as a few of Coriolanus’ friends, are invited. You finally meet Tigris, Coriolanus’ cousin who raised him, at the bridal shower. She tells stories upon stories about the blonde boy getting into trouble, which you enjoy thoroughly. 
✲ You and Coriolanus marry in late June of 1964 in a beautiful ceremony, where Jack walks you down the aisle. He says it’s the biggest honor he’s ever received. Not even his Purple Heart could compare. 
✲ Your honeymoon is spent in Boston in a luxury hotel near downtown. For the whole week, the two of you hardly leave the bedroom. 
✲ When the two of you are back from the honeymoon, Jackie proposes a day on the beach for the whole family. You both sit by the sea while the kids play and the guys play some football. Coriolanus isn’t a major fan of sports, so he stays with the kids.
✲ Both of you watch as Coriolanus plays with Caroline, John Jr., and Bobby Jr. in the shallows, splashing back at them when they throw water at him. “Have you thought about kids yet?” Jackie asks suddenly. You open your mouth but close it back, unsure of how to answer, “I- we haven’t really… discussed it yet, I guess.” Jackie hums, nodding, “It would look great for the campaign, besides, the sooner, the better. Voters love a great love story.”
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emotionalcadaver · 3 days
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My Hunger Games girlies!
I just found a fanmade map (original source here) of what the layout of Panem would look like in Great Britain!
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Tagging: @justrainandcoffee, @evita-shelby, @peakyswritings, @call-sign-shark, @moral-terpitude
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maidragoste · 5 months
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Chapter Two: A United Front
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The Hunger Games AU
Katniss!Jacaerys x Peeta!Reader
Chapter One
First of all, thank you very much for all the support that the first chapter had! It made me really happy to see every comment and reblog, it really motivated me to continue writing 🥰🥰
Please let me know again what you thought of this chapter in the comments, as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated too 💖💖
My inbox is open so I'm always willing to read your headcanons, opinions and answer your questions.
Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.
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Jacaerys was irritated. Firstly, because it is evident that you had already begun to play in front of the cameras since when you two arrived at the train station you did not bother to hide your tears, you probably thought that perhaps this way you could get a sponsor or else your strategy was to show yourself weak and like an easy prey to later fight in the arena. That's what Sabitha Vypren, from District 7, had done in her games.
The second reason for his irritation was his uncle. Larys hadn't said a word to him since before the Repair or even now that they were on the train heading to the Capitol. This was supposed to be the time for them to prepare strategies together, for Larys to give them advice on surviving the arena, but his uncle seemed more focused on enjoying the pork chops and mashed potatoes. Jacaerys was also eating, he was ready to eat everything he could to gain the most muscle mass before the games started, but now and then he would stop and stare at Larys hoping that at some point his uncle would decide to speak.
“So, what do we have to do for Jacaerys to win?” you asked, breaking the silence and making him choke.
You were the first to react, you quickly got up and started hitting him on the back until he finally spit out the piece of meat. Effie looked at him with disgust.
"Are you okay?" you asked, looking at him with concern and now caressing his back. Jacaerys noticed how his uncle looked at the two of them with interest. He had no idea why, neither of you two had done anything extraordinary, he made a fool of himself by choking and you ran to save him…Well, I had to admit that your action was striking, someone else would have let him die by drowning to have one less competitor in the arena, not only that but you just said that you wanted to help him win. It didn't make sense… Unless it was another strategy to gain his trust only to then stab him in the back in the arena.
"I'm fine," Jacaerys responded, putting his hand on your arm to stop your caresses. You blushed and moved away from him as if you had been burned by his touch. “What do you mean by that you said earlier?” he asked you once you sat back down.
"You have a chance to win, Jacaerys," you declared as if it were obvious. Evidently, he couldn't hide his confusion because you continued talking "You know how to hunt and you have good aim. Every time my father buys you squirrels he says that the arrow always hits the eye, you never ruin the body" the boy felt the heat rise to his face at your words and he was sure he was blushing because suddenly you seemed to be stopping yourself from smiling. "So if either of us has a chance of winning it's you. I'll probably be one of the first to die but I think I can be of help in the interview" you said the last thing looking at Larys.
Jacaerys felt his appetite disappear. It didn't sit well with him to hear you talk as if you were already resigned to dying. "She's got a good right hook," he said, looking at his uncle. He couldn't let Larys give up on you quickly, if you lost his interest then he surely wouldn't bother trying to help you win. "Lucerys told me. She hit a boy who was bothering him and gave that idiot a black eye."
"Jacaerys, I won't be able to win just by hitting people. Besides, there are surely tributes even bigger than that boy, they will attack me before I can even land a hit on him."
For a moment he had the image of an unknown tribute mercilessly attacking you with a sword before you had the chance to defend yourself. His stomach fluttered at the image of your broken body.
"You, on the other hand, can attack from afar with your bow. If you hide well you can have an advantage" you continued and went back to eating without realizing that your companion was looking at you with a frown.
Your attitude was irritating him. You should have been trying to impress Larys by saying what other things you can do but instead, you keep talking about him. It did not make sense. It had to be a strategy or maybe you were thinking it was a lost cause to try to win the games by having him as a district partner and his uncle as his mentor. You probably believed that Larys would choose to put all the chips on him just because he was his nephew. That made him furious.
"She can lift weights. I saw her lifting sacks of flour"
You suddenly dropped the cutlery sharply on the table. "Enough, Jacaerys," the annoyance was evident on your face and in your voice. "Don't try to make me feel good just out of pity, please. I know I'm going to lose. Everyone knows that." "You made a gesture with your hand to let you continue talking when you saw him open his mouth." Do you know what my mother told me when she came to say goodbye to me? There may finally be another winner in 12. She wasn't talking about me" you said looking into his eyes.
Everyone knew that your mother was a witch but Jacaerys never imagined that she would be one with her own daughter. It was cruel to tell you that when perhaps it could be her last talk. She should have faith in you. Or at least give you the benefit of the doubt. He wanted to comfort you but he had no idea what to say. Besides, he didn't think his uncle would be happy if he saw him being nice to you. He would tell her that he was weak and that he didn't come here to make friends.
So Jace settled for looking into your eyes, hoping that you could somehow understand that he didn't want you to give up.
"Oh, darling, that's horrible," Effie said, breaking the tension between the two of you, placing a hand on her heart, she seemed genuinely moved. "I think you should try hard to win and prove your mother wrong."
You didn't say anything, you just gave a sad smile to the district escort. A moment ago Jacaerys felt bad for you but now he can't help but think that maybe you only told your last conversation with your mother to gain Effie's sympathy and get her to talk about you to her friends in the Capitol. He hated analyzing everything you did but he couldn't let his guard down with you if he wanted to go home to his brothers. He was sure that if Lucerys was with him and could see what was going on in her mind he would tell him that he was being paranoid. But maybe it wasn't wrong for him to doubt you, Jace thought when he noticed that Uncle Larys seemed to be evaluating you with his gaze.
“Let's start to see who his competitors are,” Larys finally spoke, ending the dinner.
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Jacaerys was relieved to see that your stylist had put you in an outfit just like his, at least if he ended up making a fool of himself at the parade he wouldn't be the only one. You're wearing the same shiny leather boots and the same full-length black leotard with the cloak that flutters in the wind. The only difference between the two of you was that your suit seemed closer to your body, highlighting your curves.
As you are taken to the lower level of the Renewal Center, Portia, your stylist, along with her team can't stop talking excitedly about what a sensation you two will be. Cinna, Jacaerys' stylist who came up with the idea of setting their outfits on fire, seems tired of the congratulations. Jace couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he, too, was nervous that it wouldn't work and would end with them dead. You didn't look nervous, which shouldn't surprise him considering you were probably used to fire since he worked at the bakery.
Once they arrive, they basically find a giant stable. The opening ceremony is about to begin so the stylists are having their tributes ride into carriages pulled by a group of horses. Cinna and Portia lead you and Jacaerys to their carriage, both of them carefully arranging the posture of the two of your bodies and your cloaks before stepping aside to talk something between themselves.
“What do you think of the fire?” Jacaerys asked you in a whisper. He tells himself that he's just talking to you to distract himself from his nerves.
“At least we're not naked,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders. Jacaerys grimaces as he remembers those poor tributes who had to parade naked covered in black dust. It had happened years before his uncle became a victor, the only reason why everyone knew about that incident was because whenever the games approached on television they did a recap of the best kills, the best dressed as well as the worst deaths and the worst dresses. In the latter, those poor tributes always appeared.
“Uncle Larys definitely wouldn't have let that happen. He probably would have hit them with his cane as soon as they told him that idea,” Jace said with a small smile as he imagined his uncle hitting the stylists and scolding them. You must have imagined the same thing too because you started laughing. Your laughter was contagious so he soon joined you, feeling his nerves disappear for a moment as well as the heaviness in his shoulders. Cinna and Portia will probably be upset that you two lost your posture but neither you nor Jacaerys seemed worried about it.
"If something goes wrong I promise to take out your cloak while you take out mine," you said trying to get serious again but from the corner of your lips, it was evident that you wanted to smile.
"Deal," he agreed with a small smile.
Jace's calm demeanor disappeared the moment he saw his uncle. He tensed as he watched him walk towards the carriage, ready to feel his eyes judging him and scolding him for acting like a child. His uncle was right to be angry, now the other tributes would see them as weak and stupid.
"I want you to present yourself as a united front," Larys said, surprising his nephew.
"What?"
"If you want to win then you have to do everything I say" the mentor reminded them "So you will go out, hold hands, and greet the audience" In his tone of voice there was no room for discussion but Jacaerys had many questions. He couldn't do any of them because when started playing the opening music Larys headed for the exit.
"Come on, don't look so upset. It's not like I have scabies," you nudged him. If he hadn't been focused on seeing the tributes from District 1 in his glowing robes then he would have noticed how the sparkle in your eyes seemed to have dimmed.
It's not many minutes before you and Jacaerys are near the doors. As the District 11 tributes leave, Cinna appears with a torch. You and Jace don't have time to back away when the stylist turns on both of your cloaks. The three of them sigh in relief when they see that it worked.
“Remember head up and smile. Oh, don't forget the most important thing, hold hands. They're going to love you!" Cinna quickly tells them before getting out of the carriage.
Jacaerys hesitates before taking your left hand. Unlike him, you don't hesitate to intertwine your fingers with his. You give him one last smile before his carriage enters the city. The crowd seems alarmed at first when they see the fire but then they soon begin shouting both their names. Jace can't help but feel overwhelmed by the feeling of everyone's eyes on him so he focuses on staring at the screen. For a moment he is breathless, the two of you look wonderful, especially you look brilliant as you wave and blow kisses to the crowd. In the low light of twilight, the fire illuminates both of your faces and your cloaks seem to leave a trail of flames behind. Cinna got what he wanted and gave you both a chance, no one would forget about you two, you really made a sensation.
You squeeze Jacaerys's hand and remind him under your breath to “Smile.”
Then he tries his best to give his best smile and starts greeting you. Someone among all these people must have wanted to sponsor him. This was an excellent opportunity to win over the audience and he had to take advantage of it. He remembers the words of his uncle Larys, so he raises their joined hands, making the screams increase even more. When they enter the City Circle they lower their hands but neither you nor Jace try to let go. During President Snow's speech, Jacaerys is distracted by feeling you caress his skin with your thumb, he tries not to think about it too much, he tells himself that you must be nervous and you do it unconsciously. Luckily it doesn't take long for the national anthem to be heard and the carriages travel around the circle for the last time. Jacaerys notices that the screens seem to show you two more than the other tributes.
He finishes confirming that it was not his imagination once you arrive at the Training Center and get off your carriages. As Cinna and Portia remove their cloaks, you and Jacaerys notice the angry glances of the other tributes, especially Royce Baratheon, the burly boy from District 2 who volunteered, and his district partner Agatha Durrandon.
Jace notices that the two of you are still holding hands so he lets you go.
"The flames suit you well and you have a beautiful smile" you declared with a smile making him blush.
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myadmiringmind · 1 year
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In-law Dinners | Peeta Mellark
Peeta Mellark Masterlist
Summary: You are no stranger to dinners with your in-laws. However, it’s been a while, making you more nervous than usual.
AU: The Hunger Games do not exist. They live in a small town that mines coal.
Genre: Fluff, Hurt?/Comfort
Pairing(s): Peeta Mellark x wife!Reader
Warnings: Hostility, anxiety, stress, food, just a kind of awkward dinner, and swearing.
Note(s):
Peeta’s mother and brothers suck
Established relationship
|PICTURES ARE NOT MINE|
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You were stalling, you knew that. You told your husband that you needed to find a more appropriate jacket to wear with your outfit, instead of the one you usually wore.
You had no doubt that Peeta was aware you were stalling but as the ever perfect lover he is, amused you by playing into your lies.
To be fair, you did attempt to look at the other coats in your closet. Just to see if there was one that would make this night go a little smoother. But as your gaze rested upon each coat that you had personally picked and loved every time that you wore them, your mind could only bring up the nasty comments your mother in law never failed to make.
When you caught sight of his blonde hair in the mirror you pretended to straighten out the nonexistent creases or wrinkles on your outfit that you had already spent too much time worrying about the week that led up to this day. Both of you knew he would see right through this act, but you couldn’t bring yourself to talk about your negative feelings.
He walked towards you cautiously. When you could feel his body heat, he turned towards the closet. He examined the pieces of clothing before plucking one off of the rack.
“How ‘bout this one?” He smiled
You gazed down at the coat and your heart swelled. It was one of your favorites (you were certain Peeta knew), and it would go nicely with your attire.
As you took the coat from him he reached his hand up to your face so that he could push some of your hair out of your eyes.
“You wanna talk about it?” He asked softly, gazing at you with all the affection in the world.
You shook your head, drawing your eyes away from him.
He cupped your face gently and brought your gaze back to his, “We don’t have to go.” 
You shook your head again, “Yes we do-” 
“No, we don’t. I am not going to make you do anything that’s going to make you uncomfortable.” You knew he meant it. You didn’t even have to hear him say it.
“I want to do it.” You explained. The unspoken “For you.” hung in the air. 
He smiled appreciatively at you and stroked your cheek. You didn’t even notice yourself leaning into the warmth of his hand. 
“I know my family is hard to deal with..” Peeta began
You were quick to cut in, “Peeta-” 
“You don’t have to say anything, I know they are. Which is why I would never force you to spend any amount of time with them.” He said it so sincerely that you wanted to give in. To say “I don’t want to go” and kiss him goodbye, sit on the couch, watch a movie, and wait for him to get home. 
But you also knew you’d spend that time feeling guilty, even though you shouldn’t, because Peeta is right and you shouldn’t have to deal with your in-laws just for him. But you want to. Because even though Peeta’s family sucks, he cares for them. And he cares for you. And you know he’d put himself in this position one hundred times over if it was your family just to make you happy. 
So you don’t give in, even though you really wish you would. 
Your hand reaches up to cup his hand that was still cradling your cheek. You gave it a reassuring squeeze and looked him straight in the eye as you said, “I want to go to dinner with you tonight.” 
Peeta gazed at you for a few extra moments before nodding, “Okay.” he ended it with a sweet kiss as if to say, “Thank you.”
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Being in a relationship with Peeta improved your punctuality. You never arrived too early or too late. It was a skill of his you deeply appreciated and made you glad it rubbed off on you.
Peeta carried a tote bag (that you bought for him) with the baked goods he made for tonight in one arm, and held your hand in the other.
Before he knocked on the front door, he looked at you and smiled, “I’ll be right beside you the whole time. We can leave at any point, just say the word.” He whispered in your ear.
You gave his hand a grateful squeeze and nodded.
It took only a few moments after knocking on the door for his father to appear on the other side.
Simple greetings were made. Peeta’s father was easily the most tolerable, even if he could be awkward sometimes.
Peeta’s father ushered the two of you into the house and Peeta placed your jacket and shoes at the sad coat rack next to the front door.
His childhood house was smaller than your home, even though only you and Peeta lived there. Everything in this house was noticeably old and worn out. Which wouldn’t have been a problem if it wasn’t for the tense atmosphere.
You owned many thrifted things, and had done many home projects, but the two of you always felt it made your house more of a home.
As you walked through the small hallway you noticed all the things that were self-fixed and the cracks made in the walls that made the house look even sadder.
The sight of this house around you made you uneasy, your only comfort being Peeta’s hand.
Peeta
You turned your head towards the man you loved and your heart sank. Your wonderful husband who was kind and good, had the misfortune to grow up in a house like this.
He turned his head at the feel of your gaze. Somehow, he was always able to read your thoughts. A sad smile and a barely noticeable shrug was his way of saying, “It is what is.”
You held his hand a little tighter.
If it was just Peeta’s father and brothers, dinners wouldn’t be as hard for you to attend. But it wasn’t just his brothers and father.
Peeta’s mother stood in the kitchen, handing plates to Peeta’s two older brothers to set them onto the table. She had a look of annoyance on her face, just like every other time you saw her.
When she looked up you felt a jolt go through your body.
The woman’s look of annoyance turned to a scowl.
“Took the two of you long enough.” She barked
It was still a couple minutes before the agreed upon time.
“We weren’t expecting so much traffic.” Peeta said in his usual optimistic voice.
Peeta’s words didn’t soften his mothers scowl as she sharply nodded her head towards the small table, “You two can finish setting up.”
Her attitude wasn’t surprising to either of you. You had been friends with Peeta since school and got together before you graduated. You’ve had plenty of time to grow used to the less than hospitable nature of his mother. But it never stopped the anger from building in your chest when they treated Peeta the way they did.
——————
Dinner was..awkward, to say the least. A lot of jabs from Peeta’s brothers and outright degrading comments from Peeta’s mother. Your father-in-law mostly kept quiet unless he was making more small talk.
You truly believed that the only reason the two of you were ever invited to dinner was because of the envelope with a check Peeta would give his father at the end of every visit.
Peeta provided for them, because he felt he owed them for ‘raising’ him.
You agreed knowing it made him feel guilty not to.
The money he gave was some portion of the money that he made from his paintings, never asking or allowing you to give some of your money.
The car ride home was silent, unlike the one on the way there. Peeta was visibly tense and you were sure that you were too. But his hand wrapped with yours wasn’t firm or anything.
When he pulled in front of your house and turned off the car, the two of you just sat there for a moment in the dark.
You rubbed what you hoped was soothing circles on the back of his hand.
When he let out a deep breath you were relieved that you were helping.
“I don’t think I can do this forever.” He muttered
You nodded, “And you don’t have to.”
“Then, why do I feel like I do?” He turned his head towards you, his eyes glazed over in tears.
“Because you care for them…because despite everything they’ve done you give them the benefit of the doubt.”
“I keep thinking they’ll change.” He shook his head, “Then, I see how they talk to you and I..” he ran a frustrated hand through his hair.
You squeezed his hand and shook your head, “You don’t need to worry about me-“
“I do need to worry about you!” Peeta cut in with a loud voice, “You’re the love of my life and my family treats you horribly! And-and I let them!”
You think back to tonight’s dinner. How Peeta defended you from every comment, praised you for your achievements, and redirected any conversation they tried to start with you, “You don’t let them.” You brushed a couple stray hairs from his face.
“You shouldn’t have to deal with this.” He shook his head, “I won’t let you deal with this anymore.”
Your brows furrowed in confusion, “What are you talking about Peeta?”
“The next time they ask us over for dinner, I’ll send the check in the mail. They’ll get the hint.” He said with a sad tone.
“Oh, baby…” you weren’t sure what to say.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to stop seeing them entirely. I’m not sure I ever will. But some time away and some space will be good for me.” He looked at you again, but this time he smiled a little. “I think it’ll be good for us.”
You were close to crying yourself.
“I meant what I said on our wedding day, you’re the most important person to me and I promised to put you above everyone else.” His unoccupied hand wiped away a tear from your cheek.
You leaned in and rested your forehead against his, taking in his words and proximity. You knew how hard this was for him. How hard it’s always been.
“I’m proud of you.” You whispered
Peeta’s eyes met yours and he kissed you. A sweet, meaningful kiss like many you had had before.
Peeta was the first to speak, “Let’s go inside, I want to have a real dinner with my wife.”
—————
“Thank you for coming with me today. I don’t think I ever would’ve found the strength to finally admit to myself…something I think I’ve always known, without you.” Peeta murmured against the crown of your head.
Your head rested upon your husband's chest, listening to his steady heart beat, with one of your hands spread across his stomach, fingers laced with his.
“I love you.” Was your explanation.
You felt his lips curl up into a smile, “I love you too.”
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ellieslaces · 2 months
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CAN’T CATCH ME NOW. (prologue)
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presenting: Umbrella’s Hunger Games
featuring: leon kennedy x fem!reader
synopsis: the Hunger Games, an annual show of brutal control the Capitol has over each of the twelve Districts. the Games’ number one sponsor: Umbrella Corporation, the creator of the Games’ most horrific torture strategies and nightmare inducing deaths. these games have always been cautionary, always a far away but constant threat — until you find yourself Reaped and thrown into an area full of your worst fears with 23 other Tributes, all out for blood.
content warnings (future): harsh language; heavy violence; gore; torture; heavy themes of murder; infanticide; social injustice; class discrimination; brief mention of suicidal thoughts; angst; character death; eventual smut; enemies to lovers
notes: this is inspired by the Hunger Games (no 1) and takes place in the universe; if topics such as violence murder infanticide etc trigger you, skip this series; the reader is said to be a Career Tribute
Chloe talks: posting a my prologue for my new Leon Hunger Games series before the next strike tomorrow! please enjoy, I’m convinced this will be my magnum opus :)
word count: 768 (it’s a prologue, so it’s short)
now playing: can’t catch me now ; olivia rodrigo
how you can help Palestine! 🇵🇸
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Images of dark alleys, of scorching hot deserts, of raging icy tundras, of sickly beautiful yet dangerous forests haunted each child’s dreams. Not for any reason in particular other than the fact that the images were fed to them since birth. Spoon fed into their heads — the showings of each years annual Hunger Games.
Decades upon decades ago, the ocean swallowed nearly half the continent in a devastating and unprecedented tsunami. States and even smaller countries were lost to the depths of the sea, leaving the remaining forty percent of the country overflowed with a surplus of population.
Women, men, and children with nowhere to go, now crowded the north part of what once was the United States. Now twenty of the fifty states remained, thousands upon thousands of casualties, leaving too many for the forty percent of the country to support.
The government handled it with the worst of ideas, their support was lost, their lack of understanding and empathy led to an inevitable uprising. People stormed the gates of the White House, threatened to kill — and did kill — senators, and representatives, and judges, and even their families.
This uprising nearly destroyed the country as a whole. Thousands were slaughtered, bloodlines were destroyed, families killed by the rebels. Until a group of unknown power that had been hiding behind the scenes for decades stepped forward, taking control of the people. This led to a bloodbath of violence, political control, and the people finally were forced to accept their defeat.
From then, the country was divided into thirteen Districts, each with its own purpose of serving the new country’s Capitol. This new country — Panem — was run with a ruthless government, a controlling President with no mercy and a clever mind. He was cruel, and heartless, and as dangerous as he was calm.
No one dared to object him, no one dared to take his power for fear of the consequences. So, for decades, President Ozwell E. Spencer ran the country. His company — one he started long before he was elected as President — Umbrella was the sole sponsor and creator of the annual Hunger Games.
Where each spring, twenty four children between the ages of twelve and nineteen were picked at random by pairs to represent their District in a fight to the death.
One boy, one girl from each District, chosen by random to be plucked, and bathed, and painted, and paraded, and eventually murdered for the sake of entertainment. Once, these Games were a reminder of what revolution could do, how it could crumble a nation. But that notion was long gone, all that now remained was the entertainment value of their deaths. Deaths none of them deserved. Deaths you never imagined you’d actually witness, much less cause yourself.
The intricacies of these Games were lost upon you, all you knew was to survive. Despite being a so called ‘Career’ and had as close to luxury as you could for someone from one of the Districts, you hardly had the stomach to commit things such as murder. Much less upon other children, people your age.
District One, luxury items, riches, and favor of the Capitol itself. Careers, the title of the Tributes that were put into the Games each year. These Tributes were raised with advantage, raised with early training available to them. Available to you.
For the majority of your life, since you were able to understand what the Games meant, you’d been trained by Victors, the Redfield siblings. Chris and his sister, Claire, were once Tributes themselves, in consecutive years.
Chris Redfield won at nineteen with pure brutality, physical strength and power, partaking in the bloodbath and taking out a good majority of the other Tributes in the beginning. Chris’s Games lasted a mere week.
While Claire Redfield managed to outsmart each and every other Tribute in her arena, successfully becoming the Victor by simply waiting for them all to die by natural causes, or killing themselves with their own stupidity. Her Games lasted three, the ending of said Games pushed quickly to be brought to a conclusion. Leading the girl to become Victor at a mere thirteen.
So, despite the fact that you weren’t technically supposed to be trained by Mentors unless Reaped, the Redfield siblings trained you behind the curtain. They prepared you for the possibility of you being Reaped, of being subjected to the horrors they’d seen. To the murder they had to commit to stay alive. They wanted you to win, to have a chance of survival.
But, maybe they should have just let you die. Maybe they shouldn’t have taken you under their wing when they found you shivering in the rain after a school bully had taken your pack and shoes and jacket.
Maybe they should have just let you be killed. Then you wouldn’t have to live with the memory of him.
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lizzietoons · 2 months
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-Clementine and Louis as Peeta and Katniss-Older TWDG Art I wanted to put on tumblr!
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savannahsdeath · 4 months
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◦•≫ "A CHILD" sneek peak
a. anderson — the hunger games au
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❈ warnings: sexual assault, death ❈ just a lil sneak peek of my wip ❈ prologue of a prologue ❈ let me know if you want to be added to the taglist ❈ check out #savannahsgames for more !
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DISTRICT TWELVE
you didn't remember your childhood too clearly. you knew that you were really close to your mother. she was known as the district twelve's angel - she was a medic which helped people, even when they had nothing to give her in return. they used to say you're a little version of her, a personified reminding that a part of her was still alive, even if her person wasn't anymore.
your father couldn't handle it. he couldn't work, he didn't eat, he soaked in the big, black hole called depression. your brother didn't feel responsible for your dad, not even for himself, and you were left alone. you had to make sure they have something to put in their mouths, at least a bite of bread. how?
you started working for cray. cray was the head peacekeeper of district twelve, originaly from a rich part of panem. an older man, with a few strands of silvery hair combed sideways over his unusually red face. your job was to make sure he always has something warm and fresh to eat, his home is clean and neat and he can peacefully drink his liquor, like the peacekeeper that he is. he didn't pay you a lot, but he also let you have his leftovers.
he had his bad side, though. you were aware of the fact that he was infamous for paying young women to sleep with him. and you decided to ignore this fact - it's none of your business. until that one night, when he got drunk, more than usually. the lights were off, just like he liked. you quietly made your way to the door, hoping to get back to home while staying unnoticed - he wasn't the best person to be around after a shot or two of alcohol. but as soon as you reached to the end of the hall, you heard him raise from his armchair. you huffed and patiently waited for him.
you heard his voice from a small distance. "already going?"
"can i?" you asked, shutting your eyes and silently praying he'll go away.
he smacked his lips. "i'd rather if you stay a bit more."
you cursed under your breath but nodded. then put down your bag, passed him and went back to the living room, where you sat on the couch. soon, he stood in front of you, stroking your cheek with his disgusting, cold hands. you couldn't do anything - your family's lives depended on him.
"i'll pay you twice as much as other girls" he stated. "you could afford a full table of meals with that."
you gulped. "how much?"
"i bet you've never even seen so much money with those innocent eyes of yours before" he chukled.
it was too late and too dark, you were too desperate and everything was just too much. the next seconds were a blur of confusion and regret.
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abby thg taglist: @eringranola @cherriesxinthespring @coff1nn @sturnrngs @elliesreallwife @yurrrika @spacecinnamonbuns
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corpsebasil · 12 days
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NIKOLAI HUNGER GAMES PARTE DOS
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dear God he's so handsome I can't do this
Maybe you shouldn't be, you know you shouldn't be, but you're happy to see your prep team regardless of how you're feeling on the inside.
"'The female tribute for District Two'" Lionus Treech, the announcer for your district, had cheered, reading the slip of paper inside the glass bowl. If you could've bet money you'd put your life's savings on every name in that bowl being yours. "'Y/N Y/L/N!'"
When you moved forward, exchanging one quick glance with the sharp-toothed Enobaria, you knew none of the other surviving victors would volunteer. Even Brutus, a nasty, violent man that still treats life like an arena, hadn't done much but lift his brows when Nikolai's name was read from the male bowl. (It helped that Nikolai was watching Brutus with an expression that promised unspeakable violence if the older man even blinked funny.)
"Darling!" The first voice cries; the trio of stylists that burst through the train door are as loud as their sense of style, all three clad in some sort of animal print. "You look stunning!" Lark gasps, bringing his warm hands to your face. The dark-skinned man is wearing bright purple liner, the color unfairly gorgeous on him. "Don't worry, we'll get these dark circles out of the way. Where's that handsome man of yours?"
"You won't believe the party you missed last month, Y/N. There were aerialists dressed like actual swans! And a frozen swan ice sculpture!" Jem adds, kissing your cheeks quickly. Her dark hair is pulled back in a spiky bun, the part of her hair zigzagging. "You would've looked glorious in this white little number I was working on--covered in feathers. Just glorious."
"I'm sure Y/N feels devastated she missed it." Xiomara, your most level-headed stylist, muses, her tattooed skin free of any makeup. She almost looks normal by Capitol standards--if it weren't for the ear-modding that leaves the tips of them pointed like a fairy's. Her golden eyes are amused when she pulls you into a soft hug, her voice soft. "Hello, darling. We've all missed you." When she pulls away it's clear she wants to say more but she doesn't. "The gem of the Capitol. We will do our best to make you shine."
"Oooh! That's an idea!" Lark snaps his fingers. "'Shine'!"
"What are you getting at?" Jem scoffs.
"Shiiiiiineee. We can cover her skin in gold dust! She'll look like a goddess."
"She'll look like a damn disco ball."
"Lets see you come up with--"
"Hello." The moment Nikolai speaks, his frame filling the empty doorway, all three preps whip their heads in his direction. Jem actually blushes. Then the cooing begins, Jem and Lark fussing over him while you and Xiomara watch with tiny smiles on your faces. Your prep team--Nikolai's biggest fans. "Yes, yes I did." Nikolai responds to a flurry of questions, Lark's biggest concern being whether your lover has cut his hair recently or not.
"With you and Finnick there I'll have to keep smelling salts around for the amount of swooning Capitol citizens." Lark sighs, fanning himself dramatically. "Just imagine him covered in gold dust, Jem."
"I am certainly imagining it."
"Picture it. Picture it vividly."
"Let's allow the two of them relax." Xiomara urges, calmly leading her fellow stylists out the door. She gives Nikolai a soft pat on the shoulder as they leave, still squawking about covering the two of you in gold dust. The second the door closes you sit on the nearest velvet-clad seat, a long sigh leaving you.
"Gold dust, hmm?" Nikolai hums, approaching you calmly. "Seems like your prep team is excited for the Quell."
"Maybe they're inspired. They get to style me, after all."
"Course they are." Nikolai smirks when he leans over you, arms caging you against the couch. Your eyebrows lift, chin raising a fraction as he crowds you, forcing you to look up. "You're utterly striking."
"Why thank you. I always say--"
"You always say--?"
"--'I am the gem of Panem'--"
"Yeah, yeah." Nikolai scoffs, cutting off your giggles with his mouth. He leans into you, lips roving over your own while you close your eyes, your hands tugging him even closer. "'Gem of Panem'. You certainly are." His words are spoken softly against your lips before his tongue moves to trace the curve of your throat.
"Yes..." You murmur, head tipping back. "That is....true."
"Mhmm."
"Nik."
If anyone overhears the moan you let out when he kisses his way down your neck, tugging the front of your dress down with him, they don't bother you.
Lol
I need him
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messedupfan · 27 days
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The Hope of a Free World: The Prologue
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Summary: It's the last night of the Victory Tour for Katniss and Peeta and you are expected to attend the social event of the year at President Snow's mansion.
A/n: Hello! Sorry that this has taken so long to get out! I had so many ideas when it came to this request. The other two parts aren't quite ready but I hope that y'all enjoy this start!
Masterlist | All Stories Taglist
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You are threading your coin through your fingers and sigh. Things in the districts were beginning to get restless as rumors of an uprising began to spread. Ever since two teenagers from Twelve defied the Capitol and refused to play by the rules of their game. In the name of love, they claimed. It didn’t matter to those in the districts. You found it to be a bold move by the star-crossed lovers of District 12. But anyone paying attention can see that the girl was acting out of survival instincts and defiance. Not out of pure love for the boy she seemed to hardly know. 
“The train to the Capitol will be here soon,” Finnick says as he knocks your feet off of his coffee table as he adjusts his cufflinks. “You need to get ready and preferably stop crashing on my sofa. You have your own house, remember?” He stops at an extravagant mirror that hangs on the wall to adjust his collar. 
You sigh again, “I made a promise to stop drinking excessively. I can’t do that and be alone over there. Besides if I recall, Annie said I can crash here as often as I please.” 
“Wanda is lucky she only has to deal with you a couple of times a year,” he gripes as he double checks his appearance. “Get dressed, now,” he shook his head because you were still sitting on the couch, moving your coin through your fingers. It was your token in the Hunger Games. This was a coin that your father made you when you were a kid. It was a silver medallion meant to be worn on a chain. But you haven’t worn it in years because you rather fiddle with it whenever you are nervous. On the face of the medallion is a trident rising out of thin silver waves. A blue abalone shell provides a naturally patterned ocean blue background. Your father was very skilled with making jewelry. You were excited to return home from your Games to share your wealth with him and buy him all of the material he could only dream of. But, because of your minor rebellious actions in the Games, he was taken from you. By President Snow. 
Not the man himself, of course, but he gave the order. 
“Okay, okay,” you grumble as you stand up from the couch. “You know, I think Annie lets me stay over because I’m the closest thing to a child the two of you will ever have.” 
Finnick shakes his head with a laugh, “You might be right.” Even though you weren’t much younger than Finnick and Annie, they took you under their wing. They knew exactly what you were going through when you lost your father. Finnick knew better than anyone when you turned eighteen and Snow first arranged for you to meet with a customer. The mistake you had made was keeping in touch with your friends and falling for someone. Snow threatened their lives and their families lives if you refused to show the customer a good time. None of them deserved to die for your mistakes. Or worse, be turned into Avoxes. The tongueless slaves to the Capitol. 
In no time at all, you are on the train to the Capitol. For the past couple of years, you were typically giddy about getting a trip to the Capitol. It meant that you could visit with Wanda. But with talks about an uprising, you wanted to focus on that more than anything. A successful uprising could mean freedom from the segregation of the districts and the oppression of President Snow. Freedom from the Games. Most importantly, it could mean the freedom to love. You never saw yourself falling as hard as you have for someone from the Capitol but Wanda has a certain way about her. Beyond the enchanting green eyes and the vibrant red wig, which she wore to blend in with the Capitol culture. She was a person. She had opinions and interesting ideas. She hated the Games as much as anyone in the districts does. 
“Keep your focus, you’ll be able to see your girl tonight,” Finnick whispered into your ear as the train came to a stop. You roll your shoulders and smooth out your clothing as you stand in front of the exit of the train. Katniss and Peeta had been in District 4 only a few days ago for their Victory Tour and tonight was the final night of their tour. It was going to end with a massive party in President Snow’s mansion and every victor that could be sold was expected to be in attendance. Especially since this year’s victors could not be auctioned off as they have been in the past. 
As you are escorted to a vehicle there are screens everywhere airing footage of Peeta on one knee in front of Katniss. You shook your head. They were smart to get engaged so publicly.  You predict that lot of your clients will be so bummed that they can’t have a night with either of them. It could hurt the government and raise a lot of questions if it ever came out that Katniss or Peeta were ever spotted spending time with someone else. Though, you are certain that there are plenty of people that will still try to spend a night with either of them or even both of them once they have turned eighteen. You just hope that the government is overthrown before that can happen. Thankfully, on this trip, you’re not expected to see anyone until the event. So you don’t have to worry about hearing creepy rich guys complain about how they can’t be the ones to deflower the girl on fire. You know exactly where you’ll be spending your night. 
“I think I know who I’m bidding on,” Wanda whispered in your ear from behind you. Her warm breath tickled your skin and warmed your heart as you closed your eyes to bask in the feeling for a moment. 
“Now, now, Ms. Maximoff,” you say as you step back and turn around to get a look at her. Most women in the Capitol opted for frilly dresses, something to accentuate their womanly curves, or hide the lack of them under layers and layers of thick fabric with outlandish designs. Wanda, however, succeeded in showing off her attributes in a simple yet stylish red and black suit with a black turtle neck. The black on her suit sat on the notch lapels of her coat. It looked as though there was a darkness from inside that was spilling out onto the solid blood red that made up the rest of her suit. She also wore a gold necklace with a gold coin on it. You’ve never seen this one before. You frown as you pick it up to observe it, she hasn’t bought jewelry for herself in years. She was usually gifted jewelry and it was never as simple as this. As you move it in the light, an image of the Mockingjay appears. “That’s quite a piece right there.” You look around and notice all of the memorabilia and cheap merchandise of that bird that decorated the event on both the walls, tables, and even the guests. 
“Like it?” Wanda asks as she leans in. “It’s one of a kind,” she winks. 
You smirk as you adjust the gold coin on her chest. “Very fitting for you, Ms. Maximoff.” You wink. There was a reason this Mockingjay was hidden in plain sight but you weren’t going to ask standing in a heavily monitored event. 
Wanda blushes, “You flatter me too much.” You’re about to ask where you could get something of your own when music announcing President Snow’s appearance cuts the conversation short. Every person that was inside of the mansion filtered out the back doors to give their full attention to the President as he addressed the attendees. You didn’t care too much for the speech when you noticed Finnick slipping away with the 75th Hunger Games head gamemaker, Plutarch Heavnsbee. You narrowed your eyes as you finished the rest of your mocktail. Wishing that you could’ve had alcohol inside. 
That night, you didn’t follow them. You didn’t ask questions. You simply made polite conversation with the guests of honor as well as the other guests while making a mental note of everyone of your fellow victors that you’ve noticed disappear throughout the event. The absence that worried you the most was Wanda’s. You were certain she would have taken you home with her. Luckily, when you went to find out who did win the bidding war for your company, you were relieved to be informed that Ms. Maximoff was waiting for you at her home. 
You didn’t ask Wanda where she disappeared off to when she finally slipped through the shadows and joined you in the bed. You kept your thoughts to yourself in the morning as you committed the details of being with her to your memory. Every freckle and beauty mark that was spread about on her body. Every kiss she placed on yours. Every taste. Every caress. The way her enchanting green eyes made you dream of a brighter future as you gazed into them. You memorized the way her breath changed as she got closer and closer to her climax. Her light giggles when you made a joke and kissed behind her ear. This wasn’t a meeting that you needed to numb yourself from. You wanted to be here between her warm silk sheets, memorizing the way she fit perfectly in your arms as she sat between your legs. Locking all of it away in a place close to your heart for you to use the next time you have to be with someone else. 
“Wanda I,” you sighed where you sat at the edge of her bed as you got ready to leave her. She crawled up to you and wrapped her body around you as she hushed you.
“Don’t say it,” she whispered against your ear as she kissed your neck. “I know.” You nodded and melted in her embrace for a moment before you finished getting ready. Her time was almost up and the Peacekeepers were very punctual. 
It was noon when you kissed her goodbye just as a Peacekeeper knocked lightly on the door to escort you to the vehicle that is going to deliver you to the train you’ll take home. You hated when Peacekeepers picked you up in the Capitol. They were so polite it made you sick. It was unfair. They were meant to keep the peace but often they could be the opposite in the districts. According to your father, that’s how you lost your mother. She was bartering with a Peacekeeper that was trying to lowball her. She refused and that made the officer unhappy. He had every Peacekeeper in Four keep a close eye on her and when she eventually slipped up, they had her executed. Your father never mentioned what she did that cost her life and you never asked. 
But when you return to District 4, you end your streak of not asking questions and you pull Finnick aside to ask him what the hell is going on.
The Tribute The Mentor
 Taglist: @princessprudy @sayah13 @agaymilflover @awkwardmandalorian @bentleywolf29 @thatshyboy1998 @artisannat @thisischaismagic @wqndanat @madamevirgo @likefirenrain @tearsofglitter @feltlikethat @the-writer-arcane @natashasilverfox @karsonromanoff @aloneodi @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @jovialsublimecomputer @natasha-maximoff @iliketozoneout @doudouneverte @druggedduck @notbornbutforged @when-wolves-howl @lifespectator @justyourwritter69 @wandaromamoff69 @awesomelygayasf @nekoannie-chan @diaryoflife @wuwu96 @wandanats-goodgirl @sincerely-indi @blueredg52 @sisiofthemultifandom @fuzzyuniversityeclipsefriend @arcturusseer @scarlettwidow34 @chasethemoon @raven-ss @canyonyodeler @sokovianbaby @alexawynters @bittysworld @hopeless-romantic17177 @spongebobtentacles
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loserdiaz · 5 months
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tagged by the lovelies @spotsandsocks @giddyupbuck @daffi-990 @wikiangela @exhuastedpigeon @buckaroosheart @eowon @evanbegins thank u!
this friday i said fuck it and started the ballad of songbirds and snakes buddie au i've been wanting to write since i saw the movie. (eddie will be nothing like snow, i promise. he's more like sejanus plinth) (also what does suzanne collins have with naming her characters with anus lmao)
here's a moodboard!
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and a lil snippet (it's literally all i've written so far) <33
For the first time since the games were created the tributes would be assigned mentors. Twenty-four of the Academy’s best and brightest seniors have been tapped for the job.
Eddie fantasizes for a few seconds about refusing.
He knows it wouldn't help the tributes, though. The peacekeepers would most definitely drag him out and beat the shit out of him or— Eddie isn't sure if it would be possible but the president might want to make an example out of him and throw him into the arena along with all the other tributes. So, he stays silent and lets the guilt consume him. “And last but least, District Twelve girl, Maddie Buckley. . . she belongs to Eddie Diaz.” Eddie looks up to see a terrified girl— she couldn't be older than eighteen, this probably was her last year with her name in the reaping, what are the odds. She looks a little worn down, with some dirt on her cheek and what looks like an almost faded black eye. Her lips are visibly trembling as she takes slow steps towards the stage. And then—
"Stop! Stop!" A voice breaks through the thick silence and hands appear from the crowd. A few seconds later a boy is running towards the girl, being stopped by peacekeepers just seconds before he can reach her. "Maddie! Maddie!"
He has dirty blonde hair and eyes so wide and a dark blue that reminds Eddie of a relentless, force of nature, kind of storm. He looks a little skinny but Eddie gets glimpses of muscles under the two sizes too big shirt he's wearing when the officers pull him back and the piece of clothing stretches against the guy's chest.
The boy keeps screaming, his voice becoming hoarse, breaking everytime he speaks. "I volunteer! Let me volunteer!" The boy keeps fighting against the peacekeepers and the girl is now being held back but her arms are stretched out and reaching for him.
"Can he do that?" Chimney leans in, whispering so only Eddie can hear. "Can there be two boys as tributes?"
Eddie can't look away from the screen. He sees one of the peacekeepers punch the boy but that doesn't even deter him in the slightest.
"I'm not sure. I mean, maybe?" He frowns. "I guess the Capitol only needs kids to kill each other. Why does it matter if they're a boy or a girl, right?" He wouldn't be able to stop the bitterness and anger from slipping into his voice even if he tried. "Yeah,I guess you're right." Eddie watches as his dad and Jeffery Hudson, the creator of the games, talk in hushed whispers. It feels like an eternity until the cameras focus back on district 12.
"After careful consideration, we've decided to accept this boy's eager willingness and embrace him into the 10th Hunger Games." The announcer says. "District Twelve boy, Evan Buckley… belongs to Eddie Diaz. May the odds be ever in your favor."
tagging (no pressure): @monsterrae1 @hoodie-buck @buddierights @hippolotamus @maygrantgf @underwater-ninja-13 @honestlydarkprincess @bigfootsmom @spaceprincessem @eddiebabygirldiaz @the-likesofus @wildlife4life @jamespearce9-1-1 @watchyourbuck @malewifediaz @thewolvesof1998 @fortheloveofbuddie @weewootruck @prettyboybuckley @rogerzsteven @jeeyuns @rainbow-nerdss @911-on-abc @housewifebuck @disasterbuckdiaz @athenagranted @tails89 @messyhairdiaz and anyone else who wants to do it <333
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recluse-moth · 2 months
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An update on my PJO x Hunger Games AU… I love them so much 🤍
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floralcyanide · 5 months
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⊱ 𝑆𝑡𝑎𝑦 𝐺𝑜𝑙𝑑 ― 𝐶𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑢𝑠 𝑆𝑛𝑜𝑤 ⊰
[ ᴀ ʜᴜɴɢᴇʀ ɢᴀᴍᴇs ᴀʟᴛᴇʀɴᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ ғᴀɴғɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ]
1960s ᴜs ᴘʀᴇsɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ᴄᴀɴᴅɪᴅᴀᴛᴇ!ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜs sɴᴏᴡ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
𝑃𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒.
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౨ৎ 18+ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀs ᴏɴʟʏ !
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⊹ summary: You are studying the one and only US President John F. Kennedy for your dual-title doctorate at Harvard University in 1963. Upon growing closer to the president, you happen to meet one of his Harvard friends, Coriolanus Snow, who is campaigning for the 1964 Election. You're both brought closer as time passes, and your life changes forever. As the 1964 Election continues and political tensions escalate, you come together. With the help of you, the Kennedys, and his charming wit and cleverness, Coriolanus Snow ends up with all he's ever wanted. However, the ever-growing Women's Revolution puts everything and everyone at risk. What Coriolanus doesn't know is that politics is all a game-
But there are worse games to play.
⊹ pairing: young!coriolanus snow / fem!reader ⊹ warnings: none. ⊹ word count: 269 (not including quote.) ⊹ author’s note: eeeee here's the prologue! I'm so excited to share this idea with you all. it was just a random fic idea I had and I didn't think it would snowball in my imagination the way it did, yet here we are lol. please be sure to check out the soundtrack and if you want to be tagged with every chapter, please fill out the form. I have both the soundtrack and taglist form below for you to click. much love!! ♡
౨ৎ divider credit: @cafekitsune
౨ৎ sᴇʀɪᴇs ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ | sᴇʀɪᴇs sᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ | sᴇʀɪᴇs ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ
౨ৎ this fic has been cross posted to ao3.
ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ.
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❝And I remember when I met him, it was so clear that he was the only one for me. We both knew it, right away. And as the years went on, things got more difficult – we were faced with more challenges. I begged him to stay. Try to remember what we had at the beginning. He was charismatic, magnetic, electric, and everybody knew it. When he walked in, every woman's head turned, everyone stood up to talk to him. He was like this hybrid, this mix of a man who couldn't contain himself. I always got the sense that he became torn between being a good person and missing out on all of the opportunities that life could offer a man as magnificent as him. And in that way, I understood him, and I loved him. I loved him, I loved him, I loved him. And I still love him. I love him.❞ — Lana Del Rey, Spoken Monologue, National Anthem
“Go on, sweetheart,” Coriolanus mumbles, his lips tickling the shell of your ear, “Wave to the people. They love it, they love you.”
You stare at Coriolanus for a moment in absolute awe as he basks in the glow of attention from the crowd. At this moment, he’s electric and powerful. You couldn’t be more proud of him for it. The two of you are in a brightly colored motorcade, slowly cruising through downtown Boston in celebration. Your husband effortlessly smiles in glory, his eyes twinkling in unbridled emotion- a rare sight to see from him. Coriolanus has his moments, but not like this. His blue eyes are usually cold, distant, and emotionless unless looking directly at you. Despite the lack of obvious light, you can still see it. It’s one thing Coriolanus admires about you; that you can see past his demeanor. The last time you remember him looking so full of pride, though, was the day you married one another.
It’s hard to wrap your head around the fact that he succeeded at this- and you succeeded at this, too. Perhaps even harder to grasp that millions of people around the world now know your name and care about what you have to say. As Coriolanus said himself, the people love you. Sure, having the people on your side just as they are his matters to you. But at the end of the day, the only thing that matters for certain is if he truly loves you like he loves power. Sometimes you aren’t so sure. Sometimes, he looks at you, and you can’t see a thing.
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౨ৎ taglist:
@nilletellsstories @noyatv @moonlightstuffs @slytherinholland @dominqueeekk @allcheesemelts @coconut-dreamz @rosewine-5 @hsfallingsky @imasimptoowth @tatumrileyslover @murdocksdaughter @fauxraven @throughgoeshxmilton @thesullengrrrl @fanfictionismyromanempire @americanprometheuss @prettycove
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tellmelater · 2 months
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in the 74th hunger games, after volunteering to take her sister’s place, katniss, after valiantly defending her gravely wounded lover peeta, was defeated by our victor cato, falling to the arena mutts, peeta soon to follow bringing the tale of our star crossed lovers to a violent end.
au where katniss and peeta do not return, what would happen to prim? in spite of it all, kindness finds her in the cookies the mellark’s deliver to her for katniss’s care of peeta in the arena, in the hob, gale and his family, primrose learns how to survive, in her own way. with her pin, her father’s jacket, katniss’s boots and her mother’s guidance. in spite of the capital, she survives
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maidragoste · 5 months
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Chapter One: The Reaping
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The Hunger Games AU
Katniss!Jacaerys x Peeta!Reader (I labeled it that even though Jace's backstory is different from Katniss's but he and Reader will be the star-crossed lovers of district 12)
Chapter Two
I really hope you like it because I'm so excited to write this au!
Please let me know what you think in the comments, as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated too 💖💖
My inbox is open so I'm always willing to read your headcanons, opinions and answer your questions.
Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.
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Jacaerys entered the Victors' Village, not that he was a victor. In fact, his name had never come up in the reaping. But he and his brothers lived there since his uncle Larys took care of them after his father died in the middle of an explosion in the mines while working.
The teenager quickly quickened his pace while adjusting his grip on the only two squirrels he had brought from all the ones he had hunted during the morning with Baela, his best friend. He may not have needed to hunt for food anymore but he was one of the few people in District 12 who knew how to hunt. Some people had depended on bartering with his father to bring a plate of food to his table. His father would not have wanted him to leave those people abandoned, so every day he sneaks into the forest with Baela to look for deer, rabbits, squirrels, birds, fish, or any type of edible vegetable or fruit. He always gave the best goods to Baela, after all, she had more mouths to feed with her mother, her twin sister, and her two little brothers. But the rest he exchanged with the merchants or even sometimes he practically ended up giving away his merchandise due to the low price that he was willing to accept from the families that he knew did not have enough to eat to prevent them from ending up asking for more tesserae. Uncle Larys had never told him but Jacaerys knew that he thought he was a fool for doing that.
Jacaerys hated the silence in the village but it was no surprise considering that of the twelve houses there, the only house that was being inhabited was his uncle's. Of the seventy-three Hunger Games that have been held so far, there have only been two victors from District 12 and the only one still alive is Larys Strong.
Jace hurried into the house trying to ignore the heaviness in his stomach.
“I told you Luke would throw up again this year! You owe me!” was the first thing Joffrey, his youngest brother, said when he saw him.
Lucerys, or Luke as his dad had nicknamed him, was the middle brother, and every year he had the worst time during Repairing; which was the moment when the District escort went up to the podium and then took a random piece of paper from each glass urn, one containing the names of all the boys between twelve and eighteen years old and another with the names of the girls. This was how the tributes were chosen for each Hunger Games. Like any coherent person in District 12 Luke feared being chosen as a tribute and unlike Jacaerys he could not hide his fear.
“Take this to the kitchen,” the oldest of the brothers asked, handing the squirrels to Joffrey before running to the bathroom.
When Jacaerys entered he found Luke hunched over, holding the toilet bowl. Ignoring the smell of vomit he hurried to his brother's side and with one hand began to rub soothing circles on Luke's back while the other brushed the hair from his face. He doesn't know how many minutes they stayed like this until the youngest finally stopped vomiting.
"I'm sorry, Jace" Luke apologized with a broken voice and tears on his cheeks, clearly feeling ashamed for being in the same position for another year. "I really tried."
"Hey, you have nothing to apologize for," Jacaerys denied as he helped him up from the floor. "It's okay to be afraid. Only an idiot wouldn't be afraid."
"Joffrey is not afraid," the youngest murmured after cleaning his face.
Joffrey must have been the only thirteen-year-old in District 12 who wasn't horrified at the thought of his name coming up in the Reaping. Jacaerys believed it was because Joff thought he would be able to win the games just by being a relative of a victor. Also, of the three, Joff seemed to want Uncle Larys's validation and attention the most. In these three years living with him he had never told them that he loved them but Jace thought that he should at least care a little about them because otherwise he could have let the authorities take them to the community orphanage instead of taking care of them.
"I told you, an idiot," Jace said, managing to get a small laugh out of Lucerys. "Listen, Luke. Everything will be fine. You never asked for a tessera so your name is only on four pieces of paper."
In the first year when you started to be part of the Reaping, they put your name only once in the bowl. But every time you have a birthday they add another paper with your name on it. If you do not ask for any tessera then it is assumed that you will reach the age of eighteen with only seven papers.
Jacaerys always tried to reassure his brother, and also himself, saying that the chances of his name coming up were low compared to all the people who had to ask for tesserae to be able to eat.
"Lucerys, Jacaerys, start getting ready for the Reaping" Larys ordered from below. There was no need for him to shout as the house was silent.
"Take a bath, you stink" Jacaerys mocked, ruffling Lucerys's hair before leaving him in the bathroom.
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"Happy Hunger Games! and may the odds be ever in your favor!" greeted Effie Trinket, the District 12 companion, with the same excitement as in previous years.
While Effie gives a speech about what an honor it is for her to be there as a companion, Jacaerys's eyes meet Baela's. She smiles at him and he struggles to return it. Baela is so brave, he doesn't know how she isn't trembling with fear knowing that her name is at least twenty times. Maybe in recent years she was no longer asking for tesserae but before Jacaerys moved in with his uncle she had.
"Ladies first!" said Effie announcing that it was time for the drawing. She approaches the urn with the girls' names and then reaches deep inside and takes out a piece of paper. You can feel the tension in the air and for a moment everyone seems to hold their breath until Effie opens the paper and I read it "Y/n Y/l!"
Shit. Jacaerys knew you. He had seen you more than once at the bakery when he went to buy or exchange his merchandise with your father. Not only that but you two share classes together at school. You weren't friends. But you were still there for his brothers when he was too devastated by the death of his father to care about anyone else. You were the one who stopped some idiots from bothering Luke at school, you were the one who helped Joffrey with his homework to prevent him from repeating a grade, and you, in the only conversation you ever shared, reminded him that he was important to the District, that his brothers needed him, that he could not abandon them, that his father would not have wanted to see him as a ghost in life, that he would have wanted him to help the people of the District.
Jace had to go say goodbye to you, his gratitude may be three years late but he needed to thank you for taking care of his brothers when he had failed them and remind him that he had a purpose.
Jacaerys watches you move towards the stage. Your posture is straight, your chin up and your steps are firm but he can see the uncertainty in your eyes. You still look pretty in your pink dress, it wasn't glamorous at all—no one in the district wears glamorous clothes—but in his eyes, you stood out. It's probably because, unlike other girls in the district, your clothes didn't hang off and your bones didn't show, you didn't look like someone who was malnourished.
Maybe with your beauty and if you had a good interview you could get lucky and captivate a sponsor, he thought. He hoped that this year his uncle would try even harder to bring home a winner.
Once you are on stage Effie asks for volunteers. Of course, no one offers.
“Now it's time to meet our male tribute!” Effie announces, rushing to the boys' urn and pulling out the first piece of paper she sees, “Lucerys Strong!”
This must be a nightmare, Jacaerys thought. They were supposed to be safe, they had never asked for tesserae. He was snapped out of his stupor by hearing Joffrey's desperate cries calling for Luke as his brother began to walk with fear and tears in his eyes to the stage. Jace didn't even think about it, he broke out of his formation and started running after Lucerys.
“I'm a volunteer!” he shouted when the peacekeepers grabbed him, wanting to take him away from Lucerys. “I volunteered as a tribute!” he repeated, standing up straight, once they released him.
"Magnificent!" Effie exclaimed, happy because there was finally some action in the District. "But you are supposed to present the winner of the reaping first and then ask for volunteers…"
"Just let him up," the mayor interrupted her sharply, clearly upset by the situation. He knew Jacaerys because he always bought strawberries from him and Baela.
“No, Jace!” Lucerys said with a trembling voice, still shaking her head. “You can't!”
“Go to Joffrey” the eldest brother ordered firmly, he wanted to hug Luke but he was afraid that if he did he would also start crying and he couldn't do it knowing that the cameras were filming everything. He couldn't appear weak. “Go,” he repeated, pushing him aside and heading to the stage without looking back.
Jacaerys' brown eyes meet yours and the heaviness in his stomach increases. He would have to kill you if he wanted to come home, you, the person who pushed him to move forward after her father's death. He had never thanked you and much less would he do so now knowing that in a few days, he may be the one who ended up killing you. Obviously, luck was not on his side but if you died he really hoped that it would be another of the tributes who would end up taking your life. If it became him and he managed to win the games, Jacaerys was sure that there would not be a day in which he would not think of you.
"Wonderful!" Effie exclaimed once the young man finished climbing the stairs. "What's your name?"
"Jacaerys Strong," he answered.
"I'll bet my shoes he was your brother. You didn't want him to steal your glory, did you?" The companion's smile disappeared before the furious looks of the victor and the tributes. "Good! Let's give a big round of applause to our new tribute!"
But no one applauds. The entire District demonstrates its disagreement with its silence. Not only that, but many people begin to bring the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and then point them at Jacaerys. He looks shocked as they give him that gesture. It was not a common thing to be used in the District but every once in a while, someone would do it during funerals. It was a gesture of giving thanks, of admiration, of farewell to a loved one. The same gesture they had made at his father's funeral. Jacaerys feels a lump form in his throat. He can't help but look at you, this was thanks to you, if you hadn't reminded him that the District needed him like they needed his dad then maybe he would have continued in silence staring into nothingness, living mechanically instead of starting to help people like his dad used to do.
The mayor begins to read the Treaty of Treason. Once he finishes he instructs you and Jace to shake hands. Jacaerys notices that your hand is a little smaller than his and he feels warm against hiss. You catch him off guard when you squeeze his hand as if to encourage him. He returns the gesture even though he knows he shouldn't, it wasn't the time to become friends.
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elliewilliamsun · 5 months
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ok so who's going to work with me for a wolfwren hunger games au ???????????????? can't stop thinking about it now
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mustafar-far-away · 2 months
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crossover AU idea: star wars× hunger games
The Republic has fallen, and the Jedi have been eradicated. In order to maintain control, the Empire needs to find a way to keep force sensitive children from becoming too powerful, and keep the planets of the Empire under control.
To do this, the empire maintains a list of all force sensitive children in the Empire. Every year, a lottery is drawn for two champions from each planet, to be taken to an artifically constructed arena to fight to the death. Most of these children have no training in the force, as doing so would be punishible by death for not only the child, but everyone involved. The winners are taken away from their families forever, to be trained in the dark side of the force by the Sith emperor and his apprentice, Lord Vader. The champions become soldiers, and the Empire finds a certain joy in breaking them down until nothing but anger and fear remains.
For years, the Empire has subjugated countless planets, revelling in the continued murders of these children and extermination of the Jedi. But secretly, on the remote outer rim planet Tattooine, a young boy named Luke Skywalker has been learning about the Force from his old friend, a recluse named Ben Kenobi. When the unthinkable happens, and Luke's name is drawn, he prepares to head to the Capitol of the Empire to fight for his life, and the lives of everyone he loves. But what will happen to luke when he learns his father, the great champion Anakin Skywalker, may not only still be alive, but may be someone he will have to defeat in order to survive?
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