"𝘍𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘯𝘰𝘸."
in which persephone ignis, born of fire and love, writhes under the tricks and power of snow to form the black swan.
(young! coriolanus snow x fem! oc)
takes place during and after th...
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—Skyfall—
The Arena froze over at night, something Reaper had not anticipated. Although graphic, he expected himself to die within the first hour of the Games due to their brutality in the previous years. In District 11, they only watched the Games to fuel their hatred for the Capitol.
On lonely, anxious nights back home, Reaper would stare up at the ceiling in his flat, worn-out bed and wonder what his strategy would be in the Games. He assured himself he would never kill any of the other tributes, regardless of any circumstance, and defend himself strictly.
Every scenario he imagined ended with his death at the hands of another desperate District tribute who just wanted to go back home.
A factor he had not acknowledged was his friend, a sick young girl named Dill. Reaper grew enraged when his name was chosen, as he was on the cusp of escaping the Games forever, but his hate swelled once Dill was selected for death.
Now, in the Arena of suffrage, with Dill huddled close to him for warmth as her body racked with heavy coughs, Reaper only wished to catch a single glimpse of his family and his last friend.
He knew Persephone would watch over Barley, his parents, and his unborn sibling, but none of it quelled the intense desire to protect them himself. To watch his family grow and continue their lives, never forgetting who they are.
He craved to burn down the Capitol for their ignorance. For what they do to children every year. For what they have done to him.
Reaper would have tucked himself away in a nook of the Arena's tunnels until the commotion of other tributes caught his attention. He slowed his breaths and waited for them to disperse, to return to their previous looming before he even took a peek.
Leaving Dill behind with the absolute chance of safety, he observed the ominous scene. Reaper could barely glance at Marcus's body, too angry to gain another reason for his revenge. As he trekked through, careful to remain silent and cautious, he neared the entrance to the Arena and scowled at fresh blood dripped and smeared over the ground.
Discarded on the floor, he discovered a peculiar yellow rose with a hidden scent of smoke.
And somehow, Reaper recognized Persephone Ignis.
Oh, how he wished he crawled out sooner. To see his Capitolite friend again, the one who promised the protection of his family and assured him of his avengeance. He cradled the yellow rose in his hands, the last reminder of her support left for him. The rest of the frozen night passed with his mind on survival and a swan who suffered in silence.
In the morning, Persephone knew sympathy for the Districts would land her just as low as Sejanus in Capitol society. She understood the dangers of speaking on the side of Panem's lower class. With her overbearing father demanding only utter perfection from her image, she had no chance of even whispering about her humanity.
