Chapter Text
“District 9 is Panem’s bread bowl, giving us the fertile harvest we need to keep rising as a nation. Its amber waves of grain are an inspiration to us all.”
***
You sighed groggily as you threw your feet over your bed. It was past eight o'clock, way too early to be awake in your opinion. But it seems like the opinion of some peasant from a poorer district was never exactly important to the Capitol. Why else would they continue holding such a dreadful event like the Hunger Games. You could hear your parents prepping in the kitchen, your mom had definitely managed to pick a dress for you to wear today…
And you were right. It was a beautiful red sundress with a gold accent at the hem. It was actually too beautiful, in your opinion, for this horrid event you had to take part in. You carefully slipped it on and twirled in front of the mirror. Oh, how you wish you could wear it on a different occasion. You seriously doubted you could ever look at it again, let alone voluntarily put it on after the reaping.
You didn’t however expect it to be the last time you’d be even stepping in your house.
You ate the soft steaming bun with butter for breakfast and bid your parents goodbye since they weren’t even permitted in the same area during the reaping. Stepping out of the house, you joined the crowd of kids agonizingly walking to what could eventually become their death sentence.
Although you had already done this five times, it still didn’t manage to ease your nerves. The only thing keeping you afloat every year was the prospect of getting closer to adulthood and thus escaping this terrifying period of life.
You begrudgingly quickened your pace, hoping to catch up with the mob of equally frightened teenagers but failed to notice the boy turning from around the corner without an apparent care in the world.
“Shit, sorry,” you rubbed your head as you slowly gazed up and met his eyes. “No worries,” he muttered, more so to himself, “I wasn’t exactly looking where I was going.” His voice held a velvety deep quality, making you shudder in your spot. You would have never expected it from a boy with such a youthful face. He flashed you a soft smile, which made you notice the beautiful freckles littered across his face. He was truly breathtaking.
“Ehm, we should probably go, don’t want to be late…”
You were broken from your trance and immediately nodded, hoping not to further embarrass yourself. You could feel your face heating up as the boy merely chuckled.
“Let’s go,” you stammered, hoping to preserve at least a bit of your dignity.
The both of you briskly walked to the main square, where the event took place every year. You reached the spot from where only the same gender could continue so you bid each other goodbye.
“Good luck,” he murmured, holding your hand in his. You couldn’t manage anything else than a simple “you too,” before you guys were forcefully separated by the peacekeepers. You stole a last glance at him, as he disappeared in the sea of other teenage boys.
You let them push you into the hoard of girls, blending in with the rest of them. In retrospect, you were nothing to them - they didn’t care about the hardworking people of this district. They only cared about the fat paycheck they would receive at the end of every month for cooperating with the Capitol and blatantly ignoring human rights. You were absolutely disgusted by these people but knew better than to disobey them. You really didn’t want to get publicly whipped by some lame-ass cowards who hid behind white suits that resembled plastic armor.
Just as the town clock struck twelve, the mayor of the district stepped up onto the podium and began his speech. He went through the history of Panem, the country that rose up from the ashes, and reminded everybody (not that anyone has forgotten) the reason why the games are held every year.
If it wasn’t for lives being at stake, you would be bored out of your mind. You’ve already heard this speech multiple times and could probably say it in your sleep if required.
You snorted at the apparent giddiness of the mayor. It’s not like he had to worry about his child. The boy turned eighteen last year and was free from this godforsaken curse. The chances of anyone wealthy being chosen were very slim too. The poorer families had their kids’ names in the big glass ball as many as thirty times, the tesserae consisting of a small supply of grain and oil being enough to tempt them and make their kids risk their necks.
After the lengthy speech, the Capitol provided escort (you recalled her name to be something along the lines of Flaverie, or was it Flamiere?) hopped up on stage and excitedly shouted: “Happy Hunger Games.”
As if this was some sort of holiday. Although you wouldn’t put it past her to think like that - these Capitol airheads seemed to think the Hunger Games were a reason to celebrate. If only they lived in someone else’s shoes for the reaping. Then they would understand the terror of this whole ordeal and maybe at least sympathize with the families affected instead of telling them that it’s an honor to compete and they should be proud to watch their children being slaughtered for the entertainment of the rich.
She slowly dipped her hand inside the bowl, loving the attention she received, and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper.
“For the female tribute…” she unfolded the slip of paper at an agonizingly slow pace and read the name, almost enjoying the way everybody hung on her lips, “we have the lovely Y/n L/n, can we get an applause please.”
Your blood ran cold the moment you heard your name roll off her tongue. It felt like you were under hypnosis - you didn’t even realize it but you were wordlessly walking up to the podium as everybody cleared the way for you, most likely relieved that they were spared this ticket to hell.
She gave you an awkward hug as she lifted your hand like you were some sort of hero and exclaimed loudly, “Y/n L/n, what a beautiful girl. Now I’m sure you’re all excited for the male tribute accompanying her!”
You zoned out at her babbling as you roamed the square, trying to catch sight of your poor parents having to watch their only child being sentenced to death. Sure enough, you could see your mother weeping into the chest of your father, whose eyes were steadily watering.
You refocused your attention on the escort pulling out yet another slip of paper that would possibly fuck up another family.
“As for the male tribute,” she gushed as if this were a simple lottery, “we have Lee Felix.”
The name seemed somewhat familiar but you couldn’t exactly pin it to a face. Your eyes flashed in recognition as the boy you ran into earlier today quietly walked up the steps.
The odds were definitely not in your favor today.
“Oh my, what a handsome young man,” she embraced him. “How old are you?”
“I’m turning eighteen in a few months,” he said gravely in that deep voice of his. Flaverie looked shocked for a moment before she quickly composed herself and smiled at the both of you.
“May the odds ever be in your favor,” she recited the infamous line and motioned at the peacekeepers to come and collect you.
You took the time to try and recompose yourself. It was a lot to take in obviously - the threat always loomed over your head but you never actually thought you’d be reaped. The possibility of having to kill was absolutely disgusting and you hoped you wouldn’t have to resort to ending someone else’s life.
They shoved you and Felix each into a separate room where you waited for the couple minutes they would give you to bid your family farewell as the probability of one of you surviving was almost nonexistent. The careers almost always won, easily overpowering the malnourished children of the poorer districts. They also usually had the whole Capitol including the sponsors on their side.
You whipped your head up at the stomping you heard. Your mother and father ran into the room and practically tackled you as they pulled you into the possibly last hug you were gonna receive. You couldn’t help but start weeping too, snuggling your face into the chest of your mother.
“I’m so sorry my baby,” she sobbed as she patted your head. Your father rubbing comforting circles on your back as tears rolled down his face.
“You have to promise us you will try your best to survive, ok?” she muttered.
“Forget about us and just focus on making it out,” your father declared but his voice horribly cracked at the end resulting in him bursting out in tears and joining the group hug.
After a few seconds of incoherent sobbing, the peacekeepers ripped you away from the comforting hold of your parents. You managed to whimper a goodbye before the doors slammed shut.
The last thing you were ever gonna tell them, you realized later.
As they say - no use crying over spilled milk. You weren’t crying. You were practically wailing as you wiped your snotty nose into your sleeve.
I’m too young to die, you thought.
***
On the train, you met your mentor. He was a handsome man in his late twenties having won the games over a decade ago.
“I’m Min Yoongi,” he swiftly introduced himself. “I’ll be your mentor for the games and I will walk you through the steps and try to ensure the victory of one of you.”
He had a lean build, maybe an inch taller than Felix, pale glowing skin, and a mop of silver unruly hair, probably dyed you noted. His nose was sharp and pointed, just like his jawline, and his catlike eyes contrasted with his ghostly skin. Overall he was quite good looking but you noticed how his eyes seemed lifeless. You almost snorted, of course they were lifeless. How could anybody in their right mind be all happy after going through the Hunger Games? He probably saw his district partner die, possibly even had to kill a few people himself to be standing here today.
***
“So tell me now, what are you guys capable of? Anything that could be useful in the arena?” Yoongi leaned further into the plush couch opposite to the one you and Felix were occupying.
He stared at the both of you, waiting to hear something he could work with and build a strategy.
“I’m a black belt in taekwondo and can use a knife,” Felix declared in that bottomless voice of his, “but I’m not that great with it, just some beginner stuff.”
Yoongi nodded in understanding before redirecting his intense gaze onto you.
“What about you Y/n?” he inquired.
“About that…” you muttered with a dejected sigh, “I’m not partially skilled in any fighting technique. I can probably recognize more plants than others and move quite fast since I don’t exactly have much muscle mass,” you pointed to yourself, “but that’s about it.”
“Not bad, not bad,” Yoongi said more so to himself and gave you something akin to a smile.
“I’d love to give you guys some time to get to know each other and relax but we’re running out of it and every moment discussing and strategizing is crucial and could potentially save your ass in the arena.”
The both of you hummed in agreement and perked your ears, wanting to soak up anything your mentor could tell you. Unlike all the other people from your district, he had actually been through the Games and survived so if you were gonna listen to anyone, it would be him.
***
It was past dinner. The three of you had gone through many conversations from how to avoid the bloodbath to the importance of sponsorships. Yoongi couldn’t stress enough, how the two of you should avoid the cornucopia.
“If you’re swift enough, you can grab a small pack near you but don’t you dare try to fight with the careers over the stuff. It’s seriously not worth it.”
You could swear you saw pain flash in his eyes but it was gone before you could even think about it any further.
“After that, whether you managed to secure something or not…scram!”
You gulped and nodded along with Felix. You could tell Yoongi was really serious about this, maybe his district mate died during the initial bloodbath and he just wanted you guys to avoid that fate and not perish during the first minutes.
“Now, this will be completely up to you guys, but I’d definitely recommend you guys team up…at least for the first few days in the arena. You are obviously at a disadvantage here so teaming up could lower your chances of dying right away.”
He looked at the both of you, expecting some comments.
You nervously looked up from your spot in the armchair and stammered, “I would definitely not mind teaming up… but I’d understand if Felix wouldn’t want to.”
Both you and Yoongi stared at the freckled boy, waiting for him to state his opinion on the matter. Hopefully, he wouldn’t oppose it. The thought of teaming up with someone from your district would definitely provide some comfort to your already weak and deprived mind.
“I’d also be in favor of forming an alliance,” his deep voice rang through the compartment and you almost jumped with joy. You at least wouldn’t be completely alone.
Yoongi smiled softly at the display. Although it pained him to know that one of you is most likely going to have to kill or watch someone else kill the other, these short-term alliances were a little confidence boost needed for the lonely kids who were here against their own will. It was nice to have someone watch their back during training and exchange skills and knowledge with. He hoped the enthusiasm would last you guys into the arena.
***
You knew you should be sleeping. You will need all the rest you can get for the upcoming days, but you just couldn’t fall asleep. Many thoughts ran through your mind. Like how the hell were you even going to train with the other tributes? You were aware there were many younger ones, probably at a bigger disadvantage than you, but you couldn’t help but worry.
Your biggest fear was definitely the careers. They were practically serial killers in-training trapped in teenager’s bodies. You saw enough games to know that they mercilessly killed anyone who got in their way. Slaughtering children was definitely not a problem for them. You heard Flaverie chat with some staff about the volunteers of this year. A boy named Chris has definitely caught their attention as they gushed about him for twenty minutes straight.
“I heard everyone started screaming when he volunteered,” she screeched. “He is apparently the best fighter back in two. People are already betting on him to be the winner.”
The realization made you sick. Even your own escort was gushing about some career and she apparently thought he would emerge as the victor too. It’s not like you expected to win the Games but it still felt like a stab in the heart. You quickly rushed to some unoccupied room where you could finally let go. You started sobbing, how was this fair? You never chose to be here. What did you do to deserve to be here? As far as you were concerned, you haven’t done anything to warrant being slaughtered on live television.
Your crying was apparently not quiet enough as the door slowly creaked open. In the doorway stood a pajama-clad Felix. He looked over you curiously before taking brisk steps in your direction. Your eyes widened like diner plates and before you could say anything, he engulfed you in a warm hug. You were so shocked it momentarily stopped the waterfall of tears but after fully comprehending what he had done, a fresh wave of them rolled down your face.
“Shh, it’s ok,” he murmured while rubbing soothing circles on the small of your back. It worked like a charm because after a few moments, your sobbing slowly subsided until you were only occasionally hiccuping.
When you finally stopped, you croaked out a weak ‘thank you’. Felix just smiled and sat down on the floor next to you. You sat for a while in the comforting silence before you managed to speak properly.
“I’m so sorry for that. This is so embarrassing - I completely understand if you don’t want to be part-”
“Shhh. Who said that I don’t want to be partners anymore? Don’t worry, this is a completely normal reaction,” he comforted you.
“I think it would be best if we could support one another while we still can.”
You smiled at him softly. Being teammates with Felix was definitely one of the best things that could happen to you.
“I just heard that the district two volunteer already managed to knock off everyone’s socks. They’re already betting on him to be the winner.”
Felix nodded in understanding. “But that means he will definitely be a cocky bastard and will underestimate the rest of us,” he chuckled, pinching your still damp cheek.
“Ouch,” you laughed and swatted his hand away, finally feeling at ease. “I guess…”
You guys sat in a comfortable silence yet again, before you decided to confide in him, “you know what’s the worst? The fact that I basically pity myself. I feel like we did nothing to deserve this. I haven’t lived a full enough life… there are so many things I didn’t get the chance to do,” you sighed angrily.
“What did you not get the chance to do?” Felix asked curiously with a raised brow.
“I really wanted to bake my parents a cake for their anniversary. And I’ve never been on a date,” you lamented, blushing at the last part.
“Seriously Y/n? We’re possibly gonna die in a week and you are talking about never being on a date?” he chuckled, amused at your antics.
“Oh come on, I’ve never even been properly in love which is quite sad…I’m a romantic at heart, ok?”
Felix just burst out laughing and you managed to crack a small smile. This wasn’t so bad after all. It was really nice to just let it all out and have someone comfort you. Felix was a really good person, you have deduced that much even after knowing him for barely twelve hours. If it counted for anything, you hoped he would end up winning - you knew he would help your family if they were in need.
***
The next morning, the both of you had woken up to the sun shining through the now drawn curtains. You yawned and looked around before you noticed what happened. You were laying on the carpeted floor next to Felix who was still asleep, softly snoring and a slightly amused Yoongi stood by the window. You blushed immediately at the compromising position you were in and were about to shake Felix and wake him but you didn’t have to. A loud and cheery Flaverie burst through the door.
“Rise and shine my lovely tributes. Don’t wanna be la-” she halted as she took in the scene in front of her. “Aaaah, how cute,” she beamed at you guys.
Felix was slowly coming to his senses, the drowsiness escaping him as soon as he realized what happened. Red stained his cheeks as the escort continued her rant about how adorable the two of you were.
“Right, get up you lovebugs,” Yoongi groaned, pulling the protesting woman out of the room and slamming the door shut.
You immediately looked away, utterly embarrassed at the whole situation.
“So, how did you sleep?” Felix teased except it came out as more of a rasp since his morning voice was even deeper than normal (imagine: wakey wakey). “Oh shut up,” you grumbled, still not looking at him.
“Turn around,” he whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
“Nope,” you argued but were cut short as Felix scooped you up bridal style and headed to the door with a smirk.
“What the fu-” you spluttered but couldn’t even finish your sentence as you took in his appearance. His bedhead looked absolutely adorable and made you momentarily forget he was carrying you to the breakfast carriage where all the people were gathered.
After overcoming that little brainfart you had, you quickly jumped out of his arms. He pouted at that but didn’t make an effort to grab you again. You got to the table and sat down, purposely avoiding the eyes of two certain people.
***
After breakfast, the three of you continued from where you left off the day before.
“Sponsorships,” Yoongi repeated for the n-th time. “It sounds stupid but it’s basically your best chance at survival. If you want to be sent the stuff you need in dire times, you’re going to have to work for it.”
You and Felix both nodded, recognizing the importance of getting the people on your side.
“You have to suck up to them, please them, and make yourself memorable. If the people will root for you, you will have done about half the work.”
During the session, Flaverie popped in every once in a while to order some poor Avox to refill your drinks and make sure you had everything needed. Thank god nobody mentioned the incident from the morning.
“During training, focus also on some survival skills. Go over the plants, how to make shelters and fires etc. And when it comes to battle, try out some hand-to-hand combat, that shouldn’t be a problem for you Felix, and some basic knife skills. Don’t bother with any other weapons - you are more likely to come across some sort of knife or blade than a sword or ax.”
You leaned further into the fluffy couch, hoping to hide in the overly cozy blanket and never come out. You were too busy pitying yourself and Felix, you almost forgot that you had to train amongst all those kids tomorrow, some of them being literal killing machines.
“I would also suggest not to reveal all your skills. Show them that you aren’t completely worthless but don’t try to draw attention to yourself.”
You had to stop the groan that almost came out of your mouth. What Yoongi said could apply to Felix but you on the other hand had nothing to offer. You bleakly pursed your lips into a thin line and tried to not think about the assessment. This was going to be a ride.
***
It was around noon that you guys arrived at the Capitol. The both of you gawked at the grandness (if that’s even a proper word) of the city. You hated to admit it but the scenery was truly breathtaking. The beautiful mountains peaked from behind the skyscrapers and ran around the city, almost as if shielding it from the districts. You scoffed at that, the Capitol people being so prissy they had to have a barrier around them, likely not wanting to have anything to do with the poorer parts of the nation.
You could see people on the platform fighting to get in front to catch a glimpse of some of the tributes. You snorted, what a bunch of cunts. To your right, Felix waved to the frenzied crowd and flashed a smile.
“What the hell are you doing?” you poked him in the ribs. You would never take him to be the one sucking up to them.
“Who knows?” he shrugged. “One of them may be rich.”
You let out a boisterous laugh, mentally agreeing with him. If you wanted to make it, you would have to swallow your pride and humor them.
You departed the train to a loud cheer from the Capitol citizens and were ushered to a sleek black van. It was going to take you to the quarters. There you were gonna be prepped for the chariot ride which you ultimately dreaded.
***
“Come on Y/n, let me finish this,” one of your stylists, Hortencia or something, ripped off yet another wax strip on your calf. You let out a loud scream - it hurt like a bitch. You would have thought that they would have some fancy laser technology or something to remove the hair but that wasn’t the case. They used many more of the strips until they managed to remove all the hair on your body other than your hair and eyebrows of course. After that, they hushed your still naked form into the bathtub full of bubbles and proceed to wash the entirety of your body (hair too) before drying you off and smearing you in some body lotion. By the end of it, you smelled like you were marinated in some flower-scented perfume. (botanical garden™)
They put you into a silk bathrobe and sat you down in front of a vanity with a monstrous mirror lined with small lights. Hortencia worked on your face, applying various creams and serums while Lavender tried to presentably manicure your hands.
“I swear to god, teenagers these days,” she complained, “you’ve basically got no nails.”
You were really pissed off but were too tired to argue with her. It wasn’t your fault you feared for your life and bit off your nails on the train because of the stress.
After she managed to do your poor excuse of nails into a somewhat acceptable manicure, she got up to consult your outfit with the third stylist, Alphonse.
“Look, I talked to the stylists of the boy and we agreed to do a more land-inspired natural look. It will go well with the theme of the district,” he added, pointing to one of the dresses. After what seemed like ages, she finally agreed under the circumstance that she would get to do your hair.
They shimmied you into your simple, yet beautiful dress, arranged all the necessary accessories and put you in front of the full-body mirror.
You gasped at your own reflection, barely recognizing yourself. You were dressed in a beautiful lengthy dress with a loose beige bodice and an emerald green skirt. They had applied lightly accented makeup that made your eyes pop and curled your hair into supple waves that sat under an emerald green beret. At first, you weren’t sure how this exactly represented your district but didn’t find yourself minding. You slipped on the laced sandals that Alphonso handed you, feeling grateful you didn’t have to wear heels.
This was definitely an upgrade you thought. You remembered how the previous tributes from your district were dressed. It was always something covered with grains or wheat stems as the stylists didn’t exactly understand that the costumes didn’t have to be literally the product of your districts. The whole outfit was pleasing to the eye, and you deduced that it still managed to hint at the production of grain which was the main source district nine offered to the Capitol.
After a few minutes, they pushed you out of the dressing room where a stoic Yoongi awaited. He looked at you from head to toe before nodding, a slight smile appearing on his face.
“You look good,” he nodded and you thanked him gratefully. It took a while but soon after, Felix appeared from the dressing room neighboring yours. You had to control yourself so you wouldn’t stare, he looked ethereal.
They dyed his hair a shimmering silver and trimmed it into a minimalist mullet. His eyes shined, with deep green eyeshadow giving them more depth. He wore a pair of beige woolen flowy pants that resembled slacks (but had a more chill vibe to them) and had an oversized green silk button-down that was partially tucked inside his pants at the front. The top few buttons were left undone revealing some of his smooth creamy chest. He had a single hoop earring in one of his ears and wore a thin chain around his neck.
But it looked like you weren’t the only one trying not to stare. Felix looked just as shocked as you, as he took your whole appearance in.
“Wow…you look really pretty,” he commented, looking away slightly embarrassed. “You don’t look that bad yourself,” you teased.
That made you look at the brighter side of things. Practically speaking, there weren’t many things to be excited about so you had to cherish every moment. It was nice to feel beautiful for once so you just tried to think about that.
Yoongi ushered the both of you towards your awaiting chariot. Felix extended his arm and you gladly entwined it with yours. “Let’s go,” he motioned to the carriage. You silently followed him, the nerves already getting to you.
He hopped on first, grabbing you by your waist, and literally threw you onboard the chariot.
“Felix!” you whisper-shouted at him, “I can walk up some steps on my own, thank you very much.”
He just laughed in reply at your cute wannabe-angry stunt and linked your hands yet again.
When the chariot finally emerged, the both of you plastered your best smiles and waved at all the people cheering you on. Your mouth started to ache by the time you finally arrived at the podium where the president would have his speech.
Finally, you thought. Your eyes honestly ached from all those people with overly colorful hairstyles and eccentric mismatched clothing. The citizens of the Capitol were filthy rich, couldn’t they afford some actually nice clothes? They just looked like a bunch of clowns to you.
You could hear the anthem roaring through the speakers, and battled plugging your ears. You were surprised you could still hear anything when the anthem subsided and president Snow took his place behind the stand.
“Welcome to the Capitol! In a mere four days, you will be in the arena, fulfilling the tradition that has been here for decades, and competing in the Hunger Games. Every year, a boy and girl from each district are chosen to represent their homeland in an honoring fight for victory. Let this be a reminder, that the Capitol rules over Panem with an iron fist and will not permit any rebellion. And as always, may the odds ever be in your favor!”
A cheerful applause could be heard as the people in the stands shouted in support. You felt your stomach clench. This was disgusting. How dare he say it was an honor to be here. How dare he say it was an honor for you children to kill or be killed by other children and broadcast it on national television.
During the speech, you felt eyes boring into you but you couldn’t exactly pinpoint the owner of those eyes. You looked around frantically, the gaze making you uncomfortable when Felix nudged you slightly in the ribs.
“Look over there,” he discretely pointed in the direction of the other chariots, “see that one that looks like a warrior?”
You nodded intently, immediately spotting the handsome boy who looked like some sort of god of war. He wore cuffed pants with combat boots and a sleeveless top with a string detail at the front which was neatly tucked at his waist. Over that he had a simple black and silver harness that tightened around the material of his shirt and made the outline of his toned abdomen visible. His dark brown hair was messily styled into a parted updo, revealing his forehead and a fake scar down his eye. A furry coat was thrown over his shoulders, making you wonder how he wasn’t sweating already, it was scorching hot. The holster around hi waist held a few sharp daggers.
“He has been staring at you for the last ten minutes,” he whispers. You cower in your spot behind your district mate, not liking that some career has already noticed you.
“I’m pretty sure he’s from district two,” Felix mumbles in your ear, “the one voted most likely to win this year.”
A shiver ran down your spine.
Chris.
The tribute your escort couldn’t get enough of. The one everybody was betting on this year.
And for some reason he was staring right at you, appreciatively glancing at you from head to toe like you were a piece of meat. This was exactly what you were trying to avoid, a career somehow separating you from the rest of the nameless tributes. This was, well…bizarre to say the least.
He smirked at your clearly flustered state, sending you a wink before finally turning around and facing the podium.
From next to you, Felix visibly frowned, not happy that one of the careers has pinpointed you among all the others.
This was going to be hard…