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on-my-vigilante-sht · 1 year

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Capitol Punishment XIV

Haymitch x Reader ~ Completed

Summary: The Capitol continues to torture it’s victors no matter how long ago they won through punishment, exploitation, and worst of all; their relationships.

A story in which Haymitch’s lover is a plaything for the Capitol.

Warnings: Canon level violence, rape, alcohol, murder, systemic poverty, exploitation, rebellion (?), more reliance on movie than book, suicidal thoughts, swearing, illness, pregnancy, miscarriage, torture, sexual torture, medical stuff

Word Count: 2.6K

Part XIII | Masterlist

A/N I’m radically changing the ending because I hate the ending of Mockingjay

You didn’t watch most of it, too terrified to see your friends be maimed by whatever fucked up creations the game makers could come up with. Plutarch told you, Haymitch, Beetee, and Johanna horror stories of all the planned mutts they had sitting in archives that would likely be brought out for this.

Those four days were some of the worst you had experienced. The only words that released the tense hold of worry on your mind came from Coin. “We’ve taken the Capitol,” she announced to the remaining victors in 13. “Katniss, Peeta, and Finnick are all okay,” she mentioned with a kind yet forced smile.

But you didn’t care to read into that. Your friends were okay.

The next day you were entering the president’s mansion again. The first time in two years when Haymitch the was brought here and nearly executed for punching a Capitol man. Remembering the circumstances of being here last time Haymitch pulled you a little bit closer.

As you entered a grand meeting hall you were greeted by Coin and Enobaria. Beetee immediately got defensive. “What is she doing here?” he asked, remembering the knife in the back he had received from one of her district partners.

“Enobaria here is the last victor alive apart from the ones that made it to 13. The rest were killed shortly after 12 was bombed,” Coin explained calmly as if she weren’t explaining a massacre.

“I was the only one left in the arena that wasn’t a part of your alliance. They knew I wasn’t a part of the rebellion so they let me live if I did propo,” Enobaria explained with a shrug.

The doors then opened, revealing Finnick and Peeta. Annie immediately went to her new husband, embracing him. Peeta, now de-muttified, came to you and Haymitch. You hugged him first. “Thank god,” you whispered, having feared for his life and mental state.

“I’m okay,” he assured you, pulling away gently. He then faced Haymitch, his mentor bringing him into a quick hug.

“Where’s Katniss?” you asked as Johanna and Beetee approached to greet Peeta.

“Talking with Snow in the greenhouse. He had something to say to her I guess,” Peeta explained.

Nodding at his explanation you turned to Finnick. He was already two steps away from you, pulling you into a hug. “I guess you win shittiest honeymoon of all time,” you joked.

“Yeah, we do,” Finnick laughed, pulling away to greet the others.

The door then swung open, bringing everyone’s attention to Katniss. You were first in line to greet her with a hug.

“You did it,” you muttered against her shoulder. You felt her wrap her arms tightly around you, enjoying your comfort.

“Snow wants to see you,” she said.

You were a little taken aback but nodded anyways. You looked over your shoulder at Haymitch who looked hesitant. “I’ll be okay,” you assured before exiting, headed for the garden.

An armed guard followed you wordlessly, never averting his gaze towards you, only staring straight ahead. Shrugging it off you continued on until you reached the greenhouse, another two guards allowing you to enter.

You were immediately met with warmth and a very strong scent from the thousands of white roses that grew around you. “Ms. L/N, I’m glad you came,” Snow smiled.

“It’s the least I can do to honor a dead man’s final wish,” you returned his smile.

“Ah yes,” he chuckled. “And I’m sure Katniss will be the one to do it. Tell me, does that bother you that she’s the one to do it? After all I put you, Haymitch, Peeta, Johanna, and Finnick through much worse. Don’t one of you deserve to do it more?”

You practically spat a laugh out. “You really are desperate aren’t you? You’re not going to turn us against Katniss. Her executing you as The Mockingjay is bigger than our grievances with you.”

“Still, I bet you’d like to put a knife in my throat after everything you’ve endured.”

“The knowledge that you’ve been brought down to your knees by the people you considered to be less than the dirt on your boot is enough for me. And you’ll be executed by the girl I trained for the games, the very same girl who started all of this,” you sneered. “You know you could still be in power. You could’ve just stopped the games, said the districts paid their penance and been done with it. Or at the very least let the victors live in peace, treat them well. But no, you just had to have a group to be a scapegoat for all of the Capitol’s and Panem’s problems in order to harbor as much power as possible.”

“Do you really think Coin will be different?”

“I’m not interested in the politics. If she fucks up like you did, well the country’s so bloodthirsty right now I’m sure she’ll be gone within an hour of he decision. Goodbye Coriolanus.” And with that you existed, leaving in his prison of roses.

As you approached the meeting hall again you saw Katniss and Gale walking in the same direction as you. “Do you know what this is about?” she asked you.

“What what is about? I just left Snow’s greenhouse.”

“Coin has asked all the victors to meet,” Gale explained.

Shrugging, you followed them into the meeting hall, being greeted with all the victors plus Coin sitting around a table, two spots left for you and Katniss. You took your seat next to Haymitch and Coin began.

“I have invited you all here for several reasons, but first, I have an announcement. I have taken the burden and the honor of declaring myself interim president of Panem.”

“Interim?” Haymitch interrupted with a scoff. “Exactly how long is that interim?”

“We have no way of knowing for certain. But it's clear that people are far too emotional right now to make a rational decision. We'll plan an election when the time is right.”

Haymitch sent an astonished look towards you, as if saying, ‘Can you believe this?’

“But I have called you here for a far more important vote. A symbolic vote,” Coin continued. “This afternoon, we will execute Snow.” Everyone’s gaze slipped towards Katniss, including yours. “Hundreds of his accomplices also await their deaths. Capitol officials, peacekeepers, torturers, game makers. But the danger is, once we begin, the rebels will not stop calling for retribution. Thirst for blood is a difficult urge to satisfy. So I offer an alternative plan. Majority of five may approve it. No one may abstain. The proposal is this:” A pregnant pause mad everyone hold their breaths, “in lieu of these barbaric executions, we hold a symbolic hunger games.”

Everyone was taken aback, Haymitch even having his mouth wide open. Well everyone except for Johanna who was laughing. “You wanna have another Hunger Games with the Capitol’s children?”

“You’re joking?” Peeta calmly asked, a touch of outrage in his voice.

“Not in the slightest,” Coin answered.

“Is this Plutarch’s idea?” Haymitch asked.

“It was mine. it balances the need for revenge with the least loss of human life. You may vote,” she declared, settling back against her seat a little.

“No,” Peeta said immediately. “No, obviously not this is crazy.”

“I think it’s more than fair,” Johanna jumped in eagerly. “Snow’s got a granddaughter. I say yes.”

“So do I,” Enobaria agreed. “Let them have a taste of it.”

“You guys, this way of thinking is what started these uprisings,” Peeta protested.

“I vote no, with Peeta,” Annie chimed in.

Next to her Finnick was staring at the table, uncomfortably. “I vote yes,” he said softly. “They’ve taken so much from the districts. They should know what they did to us.”

“No,” Beetee answered. “We need to stop viewing each other as enemies.”

Everyone was looking at you now. You weren’t sure. On one hand these were innocent children who did nothing wrong and who had happened to be born into the Capitol. But you also wanted their parents who were so complicit, and even perpetuated, your torture to feel your and the the districts’ pain. You turned to your husband, completely unsure what to say. He gave you a nod, his expression telling you to vote however you feel. “No,” you answered. “Those children are innocent, the same way we were. They don’t deserve to pay for their parents’ sins.”

“It’s down to Katniss and Haymitch.”

Katniss sat there for a minute, an unreadable expression on her face. “I get to kill Snow,” she declared.

“I expected no less of you,” Coin agreed.

“Then I vote yes,” she answered, shocking almost everyone. “For Prim,’ she explained.

“Haymitch?”

He and Katniss shared a look before he turned his gaze to you. His expression read something along the lines of ‘trust me.’ “I’m with the Mockingjay.”

“That carries the vote,” Coin said. “Excellent. We’ll announce the games tonight after the execution.”

You were all then dismissed, everyone leaving without a word. Unsure of where to go you just followed Haymitch into what you presumed was your bedroom for as long as you were in the Capitol. “What the hell is going on?” you asked as soon as the door was closed.

Haymitch breathed deeply before answering. “Coin isn’t trustworthy. She’ll become just like Snow.”

“So why’d you let her have her games?” you asked. “The Capitol will be rising up against us in a couple years.”

“I needed to back up Katniss so she knows I’m with her. Coin is already distrustful of Katniss, that wasn’t a vote to see if we wanted another games, that was a loyalty test.” Suddenly all the pieces fell together. “Right now Coin thinks her biggest threat to her power is Katniss. The best thing she can do right now is to play her part as Coin’s Mockingjay.”

“So what does that mean for those of us who voted no?” you asked, afraid of Coin’s ambition.

“Don’t worry, she’ll feel safe as long as she has Katniss’ loyalty. And even if she tried anything, I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you again.” He paused, struggling with the next words. “I couldn’t protect you from Snow, and for that I’m sorry. But I can protect you from Coin and I promise nothing will happen.” He sealed his covenant by pressing his lips to yours which you melted into.

When you both pulled away you rested your hand on his jaw. “Don’t do anything to get yourself hurt.”

Later that afternoon you and the other victors were marched out onto the Avenue of the Tributes, where you had been paraded around 8 years ago as well as just over a month ago.

Snow was strapped to a whipping pole in the center of the ring at the end of the avenue. Above you in the stands were both district citizens and Capitol citizens who were being forced to watch. Stood along the avenue, waiting for Katniss were the surviving rebels who had fought in the Capitol and the Districts. On the balcony overseeing everything were the other leaders of the rebellion, including Plutarch and Paylor. The eight victors were divided on the ground, they would be flanking Katniss as she fired her shot at Snow. Peeta, you, Haymitch, and Johanna all stood to one side, facing Snow. On the other side were Enobaria, Finnick, Annie, and Beetee.

As the drums began you could see Coin above you, walking onto the platform with her arms open, reveling in her victory. Down the Avenue was Katniss dressed in battle gear, the rebels following her as she passed.

Haymitch took your hand, squeezing it as Snow took a second to meet every victors’ gaze. You stared back coldly, fulfilling your promise to him that this was enough for you.

You all gave Katniss nods as she finally reached her spot, a silent promise that you’d follow her no matter what. You watched as Snow and Katniss met each others’ gazes, a silent understanding of hatred between the two.

“Welcome to the new Panem,” Coin announced, her voice echoing over the ave making you shiver. “Today, on the Avenue of the tributes, all of Panem, a free Panem, will watch more than a mere spectacle. We are gathered to witness an historic moment of justice. Today, the greatest friend to the revolution will fire the shot to end all wars. May her arrow signify the end of tyranny and the beginning of a new era. Mockingjay, may your aim be as true as your heart is pure.” With those words she opened up her arms, as if embracing the moment.

Katniss wordlessly and flawlessly pulled an arrow from her quiver, notched it and took aim. The entire stadium held their breaths as she paused before suddenly aiming up, firing the arrow into Coin.

You heard yourself audibly gasp as Coin fell from her platform with an arrow sticking out of her heart. The crowd was clamoring in shock, you began to look around worriedly. ‘What the hell did Katniss just do?’

You could hear Snow laughing as Haymitch began tugging you away from the crowd that was now rushing at Snow, determined to finally kill him.

You could see some guards dragging Katniss away, the rest pulling the other victors towards you and Haymitch who was leading you into another room. The room was immediately filled with the sound of a million questions, trying to figure out what was going on and what would happen next.

The sound was only ended by Plutarch entering, letter in hand. “What is going on?” Finnick asked.

He took a breath, holding up his hand in a pause. “With Coin and Snow both dead the district leaders and I have agreed to hold a free election. Katniss will be sent away for now and will be pardoned once everything has calmed down. For now I need you,” he looked at Haymitch, “to give her this letter for me.”

“What about us? Where do we go?” Johanna asked.

Plutarch shrugged. “Your job in the rebellion is done. It’s time to form a government now. You’re welcome to stay in the Capitol now or return home.”

“What even is home anymore?” you asked, remembering what Katniss told you about 12.

Haymitch wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into his side with a kiss to the top of your head. For the first time since you met him, he didn’t have an answer for you.

“I’m sorry,” was all Plutarch said before exiting.

“So what now?”

7 Years Later

You sat on a bench, facing out into the harbor of District 4, Haymitch by your side with his arm around you. Peeta and Katniss were sat together on the other side of the bench, cooing at their new baby as their older son played on the beach with Finnick and Annie’s son. The couple inside preparing drinks for you and the other victors. Johanna and Enobaria sat at the table together, discussing the furniture that would go in their now shared home. Across and to the side of you was Beetee with his two year old daughter in his lap, playing with a small metal logic game as she tried to figure out the puzzle.

You smiled in content, enjoying the future you fought for. You had fought for this in the arena for the first time 15 years ago and you had fought for it again during the rebellion. You felt a finger reach under your chin, pulling your gaze towards your husband. “I love you,” he whispered against your lips before pressing his lips to yours.

A/N And that’s the end of Capitol Punishment. Thank you so much for everyone who read and supported this, I had absolutely no clue so many of you would love this so much

Part XIII | Masterlist

#haymitch abernathy #haymitch abernathy x reader #Haymitch #haymitch x reader #THG #The Hunger Games #the hunger games x reader

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aquanova99 · 9 months

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Haunted (Cato x Reader)

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Part 11

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A/N: I have been writing like a word a day I am struggling to find happiness and motivation in writing so I apologize for any delay. Hope everyone is doing okay out there!

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Y/n’s POV

The subtle shift immediately caused your eyes to spring open. You stayed frozen, hoping he you still needed to actually wake up. That this was all a dream of some kind and you hadn’t actually had the nerve to trap Cato by falling asleep on him.

Yeah, right. Life has never been that kind to you. You slowly unglue yourself from his shoulder and take even longer to face him. Before the apology leaves your lips, Cato interrupts.

“Did you sleep okay?”

The question takes you by surprise. The genuine concern in his voice makes it hard to discern whether or not he is upset at your clear disregard for boundaries. “I’m sorry… I didn’t think I was that tired. You were probably uncomfortable.”

“Actually, I don’t think I’ve slept that good since before the games.”

“Me either.” The realization finally hits you. This is the second time you’ve felt safe enough to let your guard down. You wondered if it was simply because your body knew there was someone else next to you. Part of you wondering, if it only applied to Cato. No. Things were complicated enough as it is. You look up again to find him intently staring and realize he seems to waiting for a reaction.

“I should go meet Katniss.”

You don’t wait for a response and dash up the stairs into your room. You begin regretting not taking one of the rooms on the first floor. You figured you’d be able to hear if anything stormed in. Give you more time to escape. Your brothers had tried to convince you everything was alright, to take the larger room. You almost had another episode when they decided to split the room. You shouldn’t have been such a coward. Now, you realized, you had to walk past almost every room. And that simply, was not an option. You’d probably woken everyone up. Your face felt warm at the thought of anyone seeing you and Cato in the living room. You threw the window open and hoped the cool air would help you figure out how to breathe again. You debated figuring out how to climb down to the first floor before deciding to get through this as quickly as you could.

You change as quickly as you can and do your best to pretend your heart isn’t racing a million miles a minute. The usually long hallway seemed to stretch even farther than normal. You walked and pretended you didn’t notice Cato and Enobaria in the kitchen. Pretended you didn’t hear their voices go silent as your footsteps approached. Pretended you didn’t see Cato and Enobaria stare as you walked by. Pretended as if their gazes didn’t burn through your facade as you hurried to get out of the house.

You had slept enough to know Katniss would be in the woods by now. You tracked her easily enough, and was glad to see Madge there as well. You didn’t want to talk about Cato’s plan you had decided to follow through on. You had debated it since you saw her and Gale, but really the less people knew the better. Than again, you told her about your act for Peeta…No. Even if she figured out it was an act, and she likely would, it was better you kept her out of the loop in case Snow decided to press for answers. More believable.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sleep in.”

“Sorry? You haven’t slept in in more than a month at this point. I’d say she earned it, wouldn’t you Katniss?”

“She’s right.” Katniss grumbled, “How did you manage to finally sleep?”

Start planting the seeds, Y/n. “I decided to watch some cheesy capitol movies with…one of the victors. And I fell asleep on the couch.”

Katniss stared for a moment but shrugged. Neither of the girls pressed further. Thank God. You knew Katniss caught the pause in your response. She knew if you didn’t say anything it was because it was not meant to be shared with anyone else, even Gale. Damn. If you needed anyone to support your fake relationship it was Gale. He was popular enough at school people would agree with whatever he said, and you could only assume his character extended to the people he worked with in the mines. You knew this was easier said than done. Gale was no fan of showing any kind of performance for the Capitol, and he’d be less likely to support anything with a career. You had to convince Katniss what you were doing was real, or real enough so she could convince him to play nice for the cameras.

After collecting some strawberries with Madge while Katniss shot some wild turkeys it was time to head back. Checking any snares on the way back. A few rabbits to add to the pile. This would be a good haul for Katniss and Gale’s families. Madge split off first, paying Katniss for the strawberries, though she was met with some resistance.

“You picked those yourself Madge.”

“Its for being protection out there. I don’t plan on going out there by myself.” She pressed the money into her hands and walked off before Katniss could argue farther.

“She makes a good point.” You offer

“It feels like I haven’t earned it.”

“Believe me you earned it.” Katniss’s lips twitched ever so slightly, the closest you usually get to a smile. “Going to trade the turkeys?”

She nodded and the two of you headed towards the hob. Stopping to drop the two rabbits off at Hazels, and one at her own home. You let her do her usual trading done, while you eat buy you both some food from Greasy Sae.

“So where are you hiding your mentor?”

“You brought Cato here?”

You smile at the older woman, “I did, he said it was some of the best food he’s ever tasted. He’ll be so upset I didn’t bring him.”

You wink at Sae and she chuckles before going back to her business, Katniss is analyzing your words. Unsure of what to make of everything, you’re sure. She doesn’t ask any other questions and you start to worry about whether she would say anything else. You both eat in silence, only thanking Greasy Sae when you both finish.

“Are you going to see your mom today?”

“Sure.” Thank god, you think. Katniss waits for the two of you to be completely alone in front of your house before she speaks.

“Do I need to know something?”

“What? Why?”

“You brought a career into the hob? They aren’t welcome there.”

“It was just Cato. And they all seemed fine with him there. Relax.”

“Y/n. He’s still a career. People are going to talk.” That’s the point. They need to keep talking. Not only to sell the act you’re about to perform this next year but to start changing how they see the careers. Something besides from vicious killers and nothing more.

“Talk about what? Cato is a friend. I showed him somewhere he was curious about”

“Right. Which victor was with you when you decided to watch a movie?”

“What’s your point, Katniss?”

“You two are just…close.”

“Yeah we’re both responsible for 23 kids not being able to come back home.” You didn’t intend for the words to come out so harshly. You can tell Katniss recoils at the words, “Its not like hunting animals. Nothing like it at all. I still cant stop thinking about…everything. And its just easier to have someone who understands it. Have you and Gale ever talked about it?”

“…No.” And just like that, you know you’ve at least gotten your point across. “I never thought it would be the same.”

“I know. Gale did. And I get the thought process, but the aftermath… anyways. How is he doing with his new job?”

“Okay I guess. I don’t think it would be easy to go down there.”

“Yeah I couldn’t either.��

“Are you going to come hunting on Sunday?”

“Isn’t Sundays a you and Gale thing?”

Her cheeks go red. “It would be fine.”

It would clearly not be fine. “Just this one Sunday? And then I don’t have to again right?”

“It might have gotten better.” She offered

“I don’t want to find out.”

“Then it can just be this one Sunday.”

You smile at her as she stands to go back home. You hesitate to enter your old home but you need to find out exactly what Mallory and Amal talked to them about. You force yourself to take a deep breath and knock on the door. The door flies open, almost taking out your mother as it swings back.

“Finally. You need to tell us exactly what’s going on.”

You told them nothing. The visit started out fine enough. Your brothers had been relatively quiet. Saying the victors had been called to teach you how to do interviews for the victory tour, which was true, and so that you would know what to expect from the capitol, also true. But your brothers had left too much out, your mother knew there was more you were hiding from her. She had no idea about the sponsors. You felt yourself relax. You assured her that was all they were here for. Your father sat staring daggers at you, probably sure you were lying and not as willing as your mother had been to accept your reassurances. Then everything became blurry. Your mother went from curious to irritated at not being able to get it together before they came here. Not showing a good image of a proper victor. She started yelling about falling asleep next to Cato when he had been sick. Started wondering about how I was suddenly fixed. Then the yelling became a little more noticeable when she got in front of your glazed over eyes. You blinked and heard your father complaining about you were conveniently choosing to not be present in important family matters. You glanced at the old clock hanging on the wall, and decided it had been a long enough day and stood up to leave.

You could hear the sounds coming from their mouths, but the noises didn’t register as anything in your brain. You walked numbly back home. Still not quite able to hear anything as you walked back in your house. You half recognized someone calling your name from the kitchen. You kept walking to your room, you saw Cato’s head turn back to look at you as you passed the living room. You continued walking. You were barely at the top of the steps before you felt someone grab your arm. Mallory is trying to say something to you, you think. Your thoughts, while still foggy, begin to react to your senses. You look at your hand for too long. You know you’re blinking too slowly, but your body does not seem to be in your control. The words ‘I’m fine,’ sound foreign coming out of your mouth. The only thing that feels natural is pulling your hand away and entering your room.

You don’t make it to your bed. You collapse a few feet in. At least your body seemed to know to at least make it the soft rug. You allow your body to sink into the floor, slowly, so slowly turning to the side. You bring your knees into your chest, and look straight ahead. Trying to find anything to ground you.

You left the window open…You took deep breaths by the window earlier…Did that work? It feels like ages ago…You force yourself back onto your hands and knees. Then focus on being able to kneel. One leg at a time…Why was this so much work?

You make it to the window eventually. The air offers some relief. You cant keeping blacking out like this. What if you zone out during the victory tour? The thought turns your stomach into knots, but its enough to somewhat snap you out of whatever fog had enveloped you this morning. When you open the door you find Cato sitting on the ground, maybe keeping watch. Guilt runs over you for worrying everyone. For not being able to hide it. He offers a half smile and you feign one back, pointing your head towards the direction of the stairs, silently asking him to follow you. He doesn’t hesitate to stand up and follow. The house feels empty… You open the door to your house and sit on the steps, you need to be outside. Realistically, you need to be out in the woods, but you cant…not yet.

“How bad was it?” You ask when he sits next to you

“Not great…” he admits, “Your brother looked pissed, he left right after you locked yourself in your room. Everyone else is with Haymitch.”

“They’re worried I’ll mess everything up during the tour.”

“Yeah.” You appreciated his honesty, it made it easier to not dance around the subject. He wouldn’t offer up most of his thoughts, but he didn’t hide them when asked. Made it easier to figure out how much you needed to work on.

“Do you think I can do this?”

“Yes.”

“Honestly?”

“Yes. You were scared before your interviews when you started the games, right? When you’re going through it, it’ll be different.”

It has to be, you think. You know he’s right. You weren’t fighting right now. You were what? Surviving? No, more like running, or hiding. Avoiding the scary things. When you couldn’t run, couldn’t hide…would you be able to pull it off? You had to.

“What did I miss today?”

His face twists ever so slightly, “I don’t think today is a good day to talk about it.”

“I cant avoid this forever. I have less than five months.”

“Effie sent tapes, and…cards. They wanted to work on the speeches you’ll give on tour.” You stop breathing. Trying to find words to say. Trying to find any response other than the words that are threatening to come out once again, I cant. But you have to, another voice says. You force your lungs to take another breath, when you are back to as normal as you can get, he continues, “Theres a generic speech Effie has prepared for most of the tributes. But for…some of them you may want to make a separate speech.”

He means Rue and Thresh… and Peeta. You think about some of the other tributes, then realize the rest of Panem only saw you responsible for their deaths. Not the training center, or discussing possible alliances. That was your weight to carry, no one else’s.

“Y/n?”

“Lets go see Haymitch. I have some memorizing to do.” You can tell he wants to protest, maybe suggest waiting one more day. Still, he ends up nodding and when he stands offers to help you up. You take his hand for the split second it takes to stand up, and try not to think about how you wished he would hold it the entirety of the short walk over.

The house is silent when you walk in. You’re still surprised how thoroughly Brutus has gone through this place. They all tentatively meet you at the entryway. Haymitch looks you over for a couple seconds before putting his arm on your shoulder and nods his head, you nod your head a few times to tell him you’re fine. He pats your shoulder and you follow him into his own living area.

“So, I hear you guys have the speech I need to memorize.” You say when you sit down

“We can start tomorrow.” Enobaria says

“No. Time is running out, and we still have to worry about making the people here believe there is something happening between me and Cato. I don’t have anytime to waste. I need to be able to at least do this speech in my sleep.”

Haymitch again stares for a little and then hands you the cards. Overall, it shouldn’t be too difficult. But you know you’re going to have something prepared for District 11 and 12. That could wait. Effie spared no expense of praise for the Capitol. Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem forever…ugh. Well, at least this would help convince Snow you wanted to play along with whatever he wanted you to do. To a point, anyway.

“Okay, I’ll go memorize this now. Anything else?”

“We need to get you two out more. Start building up the romance. So maybe we can go out as a group. A tour, maybe somewhere with music…start there.” Cashmere states

Music? In 12? It would have to be in the square, there’s simply not enough time to dance around like the Capitol parties. But maybe in the better part of 12, they sometimes had people bring out flutes, fiddles, stuff like that. No those are for holidays, and we wouldnt have another one of those for a few months. Then there was the hob. But techincally those get togethers are very much against the rules, not like most peacekeepers care too much around here. But that many victors could draw unwanted attention. You would have to find the right time, figure out how to ask without raising suspicion. If you or Haymitch asked, your ruse would go up in flames immediately. You think of Madge, she could know, but again, you cant ask her. Katniss though…she could figure out how to ask the question. Our brothers were out of the question, Amal was the worst liar, and Mallory was terrible at keeping anything from him. Though, like Katniss, he would probably figure it out too.

“Got it,” you say, “I’ll figure out how to get us out in the public eye here. I’ll be back soon.”

“And just where the hell are you going?”

“Brutus, relax.” Enobaria tries

“We’ve already wasted a whole day. This is going to end badly for all of us.”

“I need to figure out how to set up times for us to get seen together, and I cant just go out and ask. It would be obvious. I need to figure out who to ask and how to do it without anyone knowing about our plans. My family cant know anymore. Mallory will figure it out on his own. Later. He needs to believe this as much as Snow does. I’ll be back.”

Whatever courage you had diminished the second you exited the house. The sun was beginning to set, and you needed to get your plan in motion. You walked as fast as you could without attracting any attention. Knocking entirely too loudly.

Katniss opened the door and immediately sits in front of the door closing it as quietly as she can to avoid her family listening in. You both whisper as quietly as you can regardless.

“You know if Peeta had made it out, I wouldn’t have to worry about visiting any sponsors.” Katniss squints her eyes analyzing every word, “I mean I could have played along with the whole romance act. The capitol would never split up a couple by asking favors of them.”

“Interesting.” She nods, fully taking in what you’re telling her.

“Anyway, I really want to take the victors to hear some music. I just don’t know who to ask…”

“Madge maybe. Or she would know how to find out.”

“Yeah. I don’t know her like that though.” She takes a deep breath. Hating what I was asking of her.

“Okay. Hey, I think I am going to her house tomorrow to try and learn piano. You’re probably busy, right?”

“Yeah. I wanted to hear her play again too.” Katniss chuckles at your sarcasm

“I have to make sure Prim eats. I’ll see you in a few days?”

“Sounds good.” You squeeze her hand in a thank you and she nods before heading back inside. Your stomach growls at the reminder that you haven’t eaten since this morning. You trudge back, still ashamed of your inability to handle the tiniest stressors. Your parents yelling wasn’t new, but you had never been unable to defend yourself. It was as if being in the games had made everything feel so much worse, more…intense. Made you weak. And you no longer had the energy to deal with it. Brutus was right. It wasn’t just my life anymore. Cato, Haymitch, and the others…they could all suffer because of me.

At some point your brothers ran up behind you. You must nave been moving slower than you thought.

“Did you eat yet?” You ask them

“No. You?’ Mallory replies

“Nope. Anything you guys in the mood for?”

“Anything works.” Mallory replies, Amal is quiet and you can only imagine the conversations they inserted themselves into at home. “We can make something this time.”

“I don’t mind—” you start

“I want to make something.” Amal interrupts.

“Okay.” After a few moments of silence you start again, “I’m sorry if I freaked you guys out. “

“Its fine, It wasn’t as bad this time.” Amal says, Mallory nudges him probably trying to not worry you again. It goes over his head, “What?”

You chuckle, you wish the older of the two would be as honest as Amal. It helped you remember to not take things so seriously, “Good. I’ll try and get the time down to a few minutes.”

They both smile and they begin to talk about how much they have learned from the other victors. You are glad they are enjoying the company until Mallory mentions wanting to ask Brutus about tips. Just in case he gets reaped he says. You know its likely they get called, its happened before, family members from victors who had become capitol favorites. With all the commotion you caused. You realize its likely your brothers had a high chance of going in. The upcoming quell… your brother wasn’t an idiot. Its been theorized the Capitol has rigged certain reapings, Haymitch has no one left, but you? It may not be the worst idea. And you certainly couldn’t help him. You would worry too much, in fact the conversation turns your stomach to lead. Suddenly, food held no interest to you. Still, you have to be rational. Cato’s advice saved your life, if Mallory is put in this position… Brutus might save his.

“I think Brutus might appreciate the distraction, if he won’t Cashmere will.” You keep your voice even, but your heart feels like its shattering at the thought of having to become a mentor. Playing along with the sponsors may not be such a bad idea. If it keeps Mallory out of the games. That’s what they said Finnick does, right? You would have to talk to Cato again. You knew if you told either sibling they would tell you to not go back on the original plan. Which is probably why he’s is preparing to go in. So many people willing to put themselves in harms way when you could just play along. You’re from 12, after all maybe in a few years time they would all but forget you.

When you enter your home you’re almost overwhelmed by the smells coming from the kitchen. Amal and Mallory run in ready to help. Enobaria greets them, and they continue talking. Most of it goes in one ear and out the other. You smile to greet Enobaria and Cashmere, but when you meet Cato’s eyes you know he can tell somethings up. He points his head toward the living room and you nod and sneak away. He meets you on the couch, bringing some water and a plate of fruit.

“What happened?” He asks immediately. He sits next to you, which was better because you didn’t want anyone to hear.

“Mallory. I’m so stupid, Cato. If we do this…he’s going to get reaped. I know it. I was right before, I volunteered for nothing. If I had just eaten the stupid berries before Peeta could say anything. They’d be safe. I’ve ruined everything… I—”

Cato brings you into him and you decide you don’t care if its for pity or what. You allow him to comfort you. No tears come just a general sense of hopelessness.

“We’ll figure it out,” he breaks okay and fand positions himself to look at you, “We’ll figure it out, okay? I promise.”

You nod. He tries to hand you the glass of water but your hands are shaking. He holds one hand to help you drink and when you finish puts the plate on your lap. You notice he gives you some space, and you find yourself hating it. You manage to force a few pieces of fruit down when the rest of the house comes in.

“There you two are!” Cashmere floats down and hands you another plate, you smile and try and eat as much as you can stomach. Enobaria asks about the upcoming school year, who the younger ones talk to, their favorite things to do. They both answer, and ask their own questions in return. I’m grateful for the distraction and by the end of the night you find yourself smiling, you find out Amal has been picking things up from Prim. Wants to figure out how to be a doctor, Mallory isn’t exactly sure as he thinks he will just work in the mine. Cashmere pushes and he tells them about drawing when he is bored but nothing else really coming to mind. Both of the female victors encourage them, saying that with your help anything is possible now. You encourage them too after a while, you've realized most people accept what they were born into in 12. The bright side of being a victor is you could give them a chance. A real chance. If you don’t get them killed first.

Cato helps Cashmere collect everything. You know he is likely telling her exactly what is concerning you. You hate going back and forth on this. Making things even harder. Everyone eventually disperses, you try to relax with a bath but you decide its not working and just clean up quickly. After pacing around for a bit you decide to go back down. You sit on the living room and turn on the tv, hoping something will put you to sleep.

Why isn’t it working? You’re staring at the screen for over an hour when you hear footsteps coming down. You don’t move, you know who is coming to join you.

“Cant sleep?”

“Nope.” You smile up at him, “Care to join me?”

“You don’t mind?”

“Of course not. I enjoy the company.” You wonder if you’ve been so closed off for him to still think you dislike him. Maybe he actually wants you to leave. He always seems surprised when you seem to want his company at all. Then again, you’ve been going back and forth on the plan you agreed with since the beginning, why wouldn’t he think you don’t want him around.

“What are you watching?” He asks as he sits on the seat adjacent to yours, you try not to let your face show your disappointment

“A movie from the capitol, the acting is pretty bad so its no wonder they believe whatever the tributes sell to them. Its almost done I think, do you want to pick something?” He shakes his head and you flip through until you find another movie you don’t care to watch. You tell yourself its background noise, and after a while your eye lids get heavy.

Images of the cornucopia appear, drops of water dripping onto the makeshift cave you hid in with Peeta, the snares you’d so carefully hidden in the underbrush, the buzz of the tracker jacker nests, Glimmer’s…screams…? Suddenly you’re running, you think you hear her scream for help when the swarm of tracker jackers descend upon you. You’re on the floor and Glimmer’s disfigured body is facing you, her eyes glazed over yet full of hate and blame. Her lips release a raspy voice not belonging to anyone in particular, no it wasn’t her voice… it was multiple voices. They all hiss together in a bone chilling, raspy harmony…

You…

Did…

This…

To ussss…

Your body shoots up and you’re unsure if that last scream was another part of your dream or your own voice. You violently pat your body to check for the stings of the of tracker jackers. Only when you’re sure nothing has happened do you allow yourself to check your surroundings of the room. There is still a dull murmur coming from the tv and you curse yourself for thinking it would be an easy solution to aide in your sleep. Whatever happened last night…it didn’t matter. It was a mistake. The clock is ticking…only a little past one in the morning. You look over at Cato’s chair, he isn’t faring much better. He had tried to get comfortable but his position was anything but. He is mumbling something under his breath, his eyes are squeezed tight and his hands appear to be clutching the hair by his ears, effectively covering them. If it didn’t look like he was about to crush his own skull you might have left him alone. That would be what he would tell you to do, to leave him. Well. You’ve never been the best at following directions.

You put your hand on his. The one closest to you. His body freezes, you wait a few seconds to allow him to figure out where he is and, as delicately as you can, you pull one of his hands away from his. You focus on his breathing, short and shallow. You pat the hand you’re holding when you bring a good enough distance away from his face and go into the kitchen to get him a cup of water. When you come back he still seems somewhat disoriented, aside from his hands he hasn’t moved. You push the water into his hand until he takes it. He blinks slowly, and takes a few sips. You carefully take the cup back and place it on the table, not moving from your spot on the ground.

“Did I wake you?” He asks after a few beats of silence, and you quickly shake your head

“I woke up from a dream of my own actually.” He nods and slumps to the floor next to you, you notice he begins fidgeting with the small beaded bracelet you had gotten him, and wonder if whatever he was dreaming about continues to haunt him. You can only hope he says anything to drown out that disturbing cadence of whispers echoing in your mind.

“Do you want me to keep watch again? I don’t think I want to sleep right now.” He asks quietly

And I do? The thought makes you smile but you just shake your head at his proposal, “I don’t think I can either. How bad is our schedule tomorrow?”

“They probably have more debriefing, the interview tapes have come in.”

“Great.” You scoff, “I guess we have no choice but to try and sleep again.”

Glimmers disfigured face pops back into your head and you shudder, not in any way excited to see who you’ll see when you close your eyes. Cato stands and turns the tv back on. He offers a sad smile and holds his hand out. You take it knowing full well what his plan is. The tv goes back on and you sit next to each other this time, both trying to focus to blur any remaining memories of your nightmares. The next time you succumb to your fatigue the nightmares stay away. And just like that you both silently agree to continue the process. Both finding excuses from then on to come downstairs and turn the stupid tv on. One of you always waking up before the other and sneaking back into your room to get ready before the rest of the house woke up. By Sunday, you felt rested but your neck really hurt. Katniss’s knock woke you up that day.

“Just wondering if you were still coming.” Gale stood a good distance behind her but nodded in your direction which you returned.

“I have to get ready but yeah one second.” When you close the door Cato is already awake, leaning against the wall.

“You think you’re ready?” It was an innocent question that you only wish you knew the answer to. You had met up with Katniss a few more times this week, but today felt ominous. You suddenly felt like everyone else who avoided the woods. Terrified, like you would have to keep watch for the safety of the fence line.

“I guess I’ll find out.”

“Can I come with you?”

“Are you sure?” He gave a singular nod and told you he was going to go get ready. You stood there in shock for a few seconds before rushing to do the same. You debated starting the whole romance thing now but you decide its better to not overfill your plate. You are a bit surprised Gale and Katniss say nothing when Cato comes out with you. You wonder if Katniss has caught on and whether she’s said anything to her favorite hunting partner.

The walk to the meadow is mostly silent until you offer food for everyone to eat before heading in. But that’s silent too. Everyone’s guards are up. Everyone worried about mine and Cato’s reactions. Including myself and Cato.

Gale seems to liven up in the forest, his footstep soundlessly picking up the pace. You all follow closely behind.

“Alright Y/n, easy pickings.” He points towards some wild turkey.

“I don’t know…”

“You’ve got this.” He hands you one of the bow and arrows made by Katniss’s father. You look to her for permission before even placing your hand on it. But the second you touch the weapon your hands start shaking.

“Y/n, if you’re not ready…” Cato starts but Gale interrupts suddenly agitated

“She’ll be fine. The woods are all she knows, right? She cant be scared of the one good thing about this place.” Cato doesn’t respond, you squeeze his arm and he nods. You barely have the strength to draw the arrow back and your muscles are screaming. You’re weaker than you anticipated. You take a deep breath and aim in the general direction of the bird, but the second you release the arrow the only thing you see is Marvel.

The Marvel you see staggers back, blood pouring from his mouth. You hear yourself scream and step back almost falling into a tree. Cato’s hands grab each of your arms, “NO! Please…”

“Its not real. You’re not in the games. You’re safe…” He says in your ear but his voice is shaky. You have to blink a few times before you nod. You hand the bow back to Gale.

“I’m sorry.”

“Its fine. You can try again, it will get better.” He holds out the bow but you step back

“Gale..” Katniss warns him, Cato pushes me behind him as he turns to look at her

“She just needs to get used to it.”

“She said no.” Cato says firmly

“You don’t get it. She belongs out here. You don’t. She needs to be able to come out here, even if she doesn’t hunt anymore. The games aren’t going to ruin that for her.”

They’ve already ruined it, you think. “Its going to take time. She has to see everyone again in a few months. She can decide when she’s ready.”

Gale steps forward, “Y/n, come on. We’re going to keep moving.”

“Back. off.” Cato growls but Gale keeps moving forward and you react before he figures out whats happening. Gale had pointed the bow in Cato’s direction, and its like something takes over him immediately. His entire body shifts into a position you remember in the training center. From Arioch…

“Or what?” He starts

His name comes out as a warning, to no one but yourself, “Cato…”

Time seems to slow down, this time, its you who has to let Cato know hes safe. You rush to get in front of him, grabbing for his hand reaching for the knife hidden away. A stupid decision on your part because you come from the bottom up so you feel the sting before fully realizing the blood dripping down your arm as fail to stop his arm from pulling it out from across his body. This is what he knows. You stare him down with one hand useless, and the other on his arm with the knife. You think you hear one of them pull the arrow back. Idiots. This can only make things worse. His other hand grabs the one holding onto his arm, preventing him from either throwing or hunting them down. The other arm has seeped through your shirt and is bleeding onto the ground ever so slowly, like the ticking of a clock.

Drip

“Put the weapons down!” You yell at everyone. Scaring off any prey they were hoping of catching. Cato looks furious but he blinks at you as if he is trying to figure out what part of his games you’re form.

Drip. Drip.

“Katniss, Gale. Go.”

“Y/n…”

“But—”

“Now!” You can hear the footstep receding. You’re sure they wont be going far so you have to make this quick. His grip on your arm tightens and you struggle not to cry out. But you had to make sure he thinks of little of his games as possible. Right?

Drip…

“You said we were allies. We aren’t done here.” More blinking. When this is over you’ll have to remember to thank him for giving you the answer to this very problem. You avoid saying anything about the actual games. “We’re safe. You’re safe.”

His eyes squeeze shut as he tries to slow his fast and heavy breathing. The hand with the knife going up his head, pressing against it. He forcefully lets go, and you let out a squeak of surprise as you fall onto the ground. Both arms have gone up to his head, trying to silence voices you will never hear. You stay on the ground so as to not disturb him, hoping he comes back to you on his own. Whatever he tries to block out elicits a small groan of his own as he falls on his knees. His hands never leaving the sides of his head as he continues to try and quiet the nightmares I forced him to see by coming out here. You place a shaky hand on his shoulder, and his body stiffens. His head slowly looks up at yours.

“You’re okay.” You whisper, as if speaking loudly would ruin any progress, “Everything's okay.”

His head scans the area and when he looks back you his eyes widen again, his breathing quickening. “Oh my god.”

You don’t have to follow his eyes to know what hes looking at, “I’m fine. It was my fault.”

His hands turn your forearm to face him, really the scratch wasn’t very deep. Long maybe, but really it would heal quickly. The bleeding had mostly stopped anyway. He lifts the t-shirt sleeve up to where your cut is completely exposed. Cinna probably had some kind of scar cream, you weren’t worried about it. Cato shakily grabs the bag you had set down when you had tried to shoot the arrow, fumbling until he finds what hes looking for. A small red box. You realize it’s a first aid kit, he grabs the water bottle you’d brought as well and begins pouring water on your wound. Your arm twitches when the water first contacts you and Cato winces.

“Sorry.” He mumbles not making eye contact

“Its fine Cato, really.”

“Its not.” He says sternly. He places a type of pad on your arm and begins bandaging. You only try to speak when he’s almost finished

“Cato. This wasn’t your fault. I grabbed the knife wrong. This is on me.”

“Y/n. Stop.”

“No. You cant even look at me. This is not your faul—”

“I shouldn’t have come out here. I knew I wasn’t ready.”

“I wasn—”

“You were right. This is a mistake.” He begins to stand up again

“Cato, wait—” You scramble to catch up to him, but before your arm even reaches out he snaps at you

“No Y/n. This should have never happened. I could have killed you! We will stick to public appearances, the rest of the time you need to stay away from me.”

For some reason this infuriates you. “What are you talking about? No. You said we would do this together. You cant back out now.”

He turns around just as furious, “You’ve been backing out almost every day! Why does it matter if I do it??”

A valid point. You weren’t sure why you were fighting so hard for him to not back out but it suddenly sounded unacceptable. Especially not out of guilt, “Beca—”

“I told you I was dangerous! I told you to use the sedative if you needed to. How could you not bring it??? Do you not understand how easily I could have killed you? Do you know what that would have don—Do you think I could live with myself?” He takes a deep breath, trying to lower his voice. It was the loudest you had ever heard him, certainly. Guilt gnawing at you for not realizing how all of this could have undone any progress, how he could have been punished.. all because you couldn’t shoot a damn arrow. Anger also fights for the dominant spot in your mind, you were the one who just de-escalated everything. Your silence seems to soften him and you know it's only because he's once again, sure he's terrified you.

“Look. Just—Make sure you start bringing the sedative. I’m serious. For your own sake—”

He lets out an exasperated sigh of disbelief as you hold your palm out. The sedative pen still capped facing him.

Cato’s POV

She had it this entire time? Why didn’t she use it? Did she forget? How could she forget? You stood there staring as she held her hand out. Unsure of what to do , what to say. You had just screamed at the person who stopped you from hurting anyone. Who had hurt herself in order to give you the chance to stop. Who had somehow managed to distract you enough to realize you were slipping back into your games. You couldn’t face her as you bandaged her arm, and now you felt like you couldn’t stop staring, trying to figure out why she wouldn’t immediately use that on you.

It was her turn to be angry, but instead of saying anything she grabbed your hand and forced the pen into it before heading back home.

You could only stand there for a minute before you chased after her. You caught up relatively soon, “Y/n?”

When she says nothing. You decide to keep your mouth shut. The walk back is tense she lets the door almost close on you and you aren’t surprised to hear the door slam. You’re thankful no one seems to be home. You know her brothers are at her parents, and Enobaria and Cashmere said they wanted to talk to Haymitch about the public appearances they want to start up. You decide to go over there just to let them know you’re both back.

“So, how’d it go?”

“Could’ve gone better.” Is all you say as you walk back out. The rest of your day is you hiding in your room. You go out to make yourself a quick lunch. You’re pretty sure Y/n hasn’t come down so you leave a plate of food at her door and knock before running back down to your room. You pace, read, lay down, repeat. You only come out when Enobaria calls you down to eat again. You ask if Y/n has said anything to her but Enobaria says she was worn out from trying all of that today. You wonder if the cut on her arm came up.

“Cato. Is everything okay?” She crosses her arms as she watches you eat. You take one more bite and toss your fork down. You needed today to be over. You can overthink by yourself.

“Yeah. Everything’s great.” You grab your plate and toss everything in the trash. Something people here probably wouldn’t be very fond of but its beyond you to care right now. You can feel Enobaria looking at you but she doesn’t follow. You go into your room and turn the lights off so hopefully, everyone assumes you’re asleep and leaves you alone. You cant sleep. In fact, you know you wont be able to sleep since the only decent sleep you’ve gotten in over a year has been with y/n when you pretend to watch the tv. Really, its probably your brain telling you that you two are watching each other’s backs, but it doesn’t matter. You doubt you could trust anyone else like that.

You replay today’s events for the millionth time. She must have been terrified. And then on top of everything you go and yell at her. She could have yelled back but the only time she even sounded slightly annoyed was when you said doing the whole romance thing may not be a good idea. Isn’t that what she wanted? Was it the way I said it? You hold the pillow over your head for a few minutes before throwing it to the floor out in annoyance. Just fall asleep. Fall asleep. You tell yourself you deserve any nightmares that come to you but sleep refuses to make an appearance. Probably because you were ridden with guilt and disgust. You decided to go apologize. You went down the hall where Y/n’s room was hidden away, you hear Cashmere and Enobaria talking in the distant kitchen. As you raise your arm to knock, the door swings open.

The two of you are stand once again, motionless. With nothing in her hands, you wonder if she had an idea similar to yours. You open your mouth to start apologizing but she shakes her head and steps out of your way. Allowing for you to enter her room. You tell yourself you’ll apologize properly and then leave her alone. She probably just wants to keep todays events hidden, better to curb any more fears about this plan’s already fragile state. When she quietly closes the door behind you try to speak before she once again cuts off your apology by wrapping her arms around you. You freeze, waiting for your living nightmares to resurface but when they don’t come, you return the embrace. A warmth radiating deep in the cold recesses of your heart.

“I’m sorry.” She says softly

You immediately step back, “No. That’s what I should be saying. I was the one who wanted to go, I was the one who hurt you, I was the one that yelled. I’m…I’m sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have freaked out like that. I knew I wasn’t ready.” You bring her towards you again and try not to notice the smell of her hair, still somewhat damp from a fresh bath.

“Can I check?” She sighs but holds her arm out. You feel relief upon realizing how shallow the cut was. You quickly leave her room for more supplies and sneak back as quietly as possible. You both sit on her bed and you begin. You work carefully. Quietly. She says nothing until you put the healing ointment over the scratch.

“I told you it wasn’t that bad.” She tries to joke but you’re struggling to understand why had to put herself in this position in the first place.

“Why didn’t you use it?”

“I didn’t need to.”

“Y/n…”

“You know when I blew up all of the supplies in the cornucopia and everyone ran back…Arioch was so mad he snapped the boy from three’s neck. It was less than a second and Elias was dead. On the ground. You could have done the same the second I grabbed the knife. You stopped yourself. I didn’t have to do anything.”

“I could have still killed you, before all of that.”

“I guess.”

“You cant guess Y/n.”

“Honestly if you really thought you were in the games and you thought the three of us were working together you would have either gone for the person most dangerous to you, which wasn’t me and would have given me time to use it. Or you would have used me as a bargaining tool, and I still would have been able to use it. So, drop it.” Her voice gets short and you decide to listen, trying to not get into your head again. She sighs and lowers her tone, still grumbling at the thought of it.

“I shouldn’t have hid behind you and I should have told Gale off myself. I would have had a better chance at either grabbing the knife or deescalating the situation.”

You cant help yourself. The thought of her putting the blame on herself is ludicrous and you cant accept it, “I shouldn’t have gone at all.”

“I wanted you to come. I would have asked you to anyway.” She says it so softly you aren’t sure you heard her right. You don’t say anything more as you finish rebandaging her. “I’m tired.”

You tell yourself you promised you would leave her alone so you just nod and say “Okay.”

You shift to stand up and leave but she grabs your wrist, “Can you stay?”

“Okay.” You find yourself unable to say anything else at the moment. You down move from your seat on her bed as she lays down. Your throat suddenly feels very dry. You feel as if you’re breaking some kind of rule from the agreement you both had made, which is ridiculous since you had been accidentally sleeping together when you would watch tv. It was just easier to fall asleep that way. You try going over possible interview questions in your head but absentmindedly fidget with the bracelet which gets her attention. She leans over enough to place her hand on your back causing you to jump.

“You should get some sleep.”

“Are you sure?”

“Do you plan on keeping your knife under the pillows?” You shake your head and she smiles, “Then yeah, as long as your comfortable with it.”

She scoots over and you lay next to her. Neither of you fall asleep right away and you try and see if she wants to talk about what happened before she stepped in front of you. “Can I ask you something?”

She turns to her side to face you, you try and resist the urge to get closer and just turn your head to her direction staying on your back. “What is it?”

“What did you see?”

She goes unnaturally still, you want to tell her to forget about it but she decides to answer, “Marvel.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” She turns onto her back and looks up as she recounts her time in the games, “You saw the games. I missed.”

“I thought you hit him.”

“I did. But I waited too long and I ended hitting a lung…I was so mad. I was going to watch him suffer for the net. For throwing his spear. He told me to finish. To kill him. When I pulled the knife out I held onto his hand as I plunged my knife into him. I felt his hand go limp in mine. I see his death all the time. Then I run away. In every dream I run, and it doesn’t matter what direction I run I always end up seeing Rue. Struggling to breathe. I didn’t even know she was hit right away.”

“Y/n you couldn’t have saved her.”

“If I hadn’t hesitated I would have. She would have won. I would have made sure of it.” You don’t like what she’s implying but you say nothing, knowing theres more to be said, “Almost everyone else’s death I see like I was watching the games from home. But Marvel and Rue…and Glimmer sometimes. They don’t ever go away. It also sucks because I saw Thresh die the same way everyone else did and I feel bad he doesn't bother me as much.”

She doesn’t turn to face you but you can see tears beginning to form so you reach out and grab her hand. She returns the gesture, intertwining her hand in yours. She finally turns to look at you, but she is too tired to even try and pretend its okay. It isn’t. And it doesn’t get better. But its only fair you tell her your side of things too.

“I see everyone. Whether I killed them or not. I see myself killing them, not being able to stop. Then I hear them. Their families. Calling me a monster. I try to say I cant stop but I can never speak.”

She squeezes your hand. You have others, sometimes its all of the training methods you had in 2. Others are when you are begging to call your family so you can go home, then the voices from the games merge into those too. You turn to face her and she lets go of your hand to turn. She begins to get close. Too close. Shes above you, resting on her elbow you feel her other hand reach up. A finger traces your brow, her thumb gently wiping a tear you weren’t aware had spilled.

“You aren’t a monster. Okay?”

You cant help yourself. You don’t let her let go of your face. You don’t want to let her go at all. So you don’t. With your free arm you bring her as close as you can and hold her. Tired of pretending you weren’t constantly craving her presence. Her touch. You only let go of her hand to put your own in her hair as you pulled her into you. She doesn’t protest. She continues to lean in eventually letting her lips rest on yours ever so gently. Her lips were soft and warm. You could feel them slightly part as she let out a slight gasp. It was as easy as breathing. When you both pull away, you feel like its too soon. You know that you are only entangling yourself into a potentially dangerous situation with the capitol. You had something to lose now. As she stared at you with the same realization you realized you didn’t care. You had something to lose, yes, but you also finally had something to lose. You didn’t want her to worry, you just brought her into you again. Letting her head rest on your chest. Knowing sleep would come easily. You run your hand up and her back and you feel her thumb going back and forth on your chest. Her hand stops moving first, you aren’t sure when your eyes close. All you know is for the first time you feel at peace, nothing gnawing at the back of your mind. No dreading about waking up and doing it all over again.

When you do wake up its anything but peaceful. You both hear the urgent knocking and sit up immediately. You both share a look and you move to the other end of the bed. Pretending you were simply keeping watch.

“Come in.” Y/n says groggily

“What is he doing here? What are you doing here?? What happened to your arm?” Enobaria sounded confused. Furious.

“I still couldn’t sleep. So, I asked him to keep watch and alternate with me. But I fell asleep on my turn.” Y/n, you’ve noticed is only exceptional at lying when it involves someone else. “Sorry. I thought I was getting better?”

“And your arm?” Unfortunately for the two of you, Enobaria was not in way easy to convince. She crossed her arms as asked about Y/n’s injury.

“I got it when we went hunting yesterday. I freaked out and I was fumbling to grab my knife to protect myself. Cato bandaged me up and came to make sure it was healing okay last night. I asked him to stay. I was too embarrassed to say anything so I said I was tired and hid in here all day.”

“And why didn’t you mention this accident?” She starts asking you

You shrugged and tried to seem indifferent, “She asked me not to.”

“Y/n you need to at least get one more person to change shifts, its—” you see that shes struggling to find the words, but theres no real way around it, “its not safe. The flashbacks they don’t always show up in the most convenient times.”

Your head drops, and you can feel Y/n stare. You want to disagree with her but Enobaria is right. One nightmare and you could wake up in a place where Y/n isn’t Y/n at all. Just another person you cant unsee in the games.

“I trust him.”

She says it so easily, you want to believe her. Believe that you would never do anything to her. But you already had. “Y/n its better to be safe than sorry.”

“I trust him. Which is a good thing because at the end of this whole thing we’re going to have to end up together right? So does it matter if we help eachother out?”

Enobaria sighed, “Come on, we have a busy day.”

She leaves the room quickly. No doubt going to talk to Cashmere. You lift your head to look at Y/n, “Don’t.” She says

“Y/n. Shes not wron—”

“I said don’t.”

“I need a favor.”

“Cato…”

You take out the syringe and hold it out. “Please. Just to be safe. For me.”

The last line makes her flinch. She lets out an exasperated sigh and snatches the pen out of your hand. “I’m not going to use it.”

She leaves her room before you have a chance to respond. The words, ‘I know,’ stuck on your lips. You follow behind her and meet up in the kitchen with Enobaria and Cashmere. Enobaria still looks upset but Cashmere has a knowing grin on her face you desperately want to ignore. She slides you and Y/n a plate of food.

“Well before we do anything today, Y/n I suggest you go see your cousin. She came by to check on you already. I’m assuming since yesterday didn’t go so great?” Enobaria states

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Cato? You’re practicing interview questions with Brutus.”

“Why him?” You immediately protest

“Because he is going to pinpoint everything you need to work on and this needs to go perfectly.” There was no point in arguing with either of them. Especially when Enobaria was already on the verge on sending you over to Haymitch’s house.

“What about you guys?”

“Oh Haymitch is going to show us around a bit more.” Cashmere says, you and Y/n share a look. They’re planning something and you two are not to know about it. You both eat in silence until Y/n finishes and is promptly shooed out of the house. You mainly push the food around your plate. Avoiding the stares that felt like were burning holes into your body.

“Its good you two are comfortable with each other. It’s going to make things easier.” Cashmere starts

“Its also going to make things more difficult.” Enobaria grumbled, “This whole charade still might not work. You need to be careful. You both just got out of the games. You still technically need to be supervised.”

“The more believable the more the capitol will want them to get married and pick a district. Regardless of what they feel, they need to make the Capitol obsessed with them in a matter of two weeks for the victory tour. We can worry about the rest later.”

You stood up, not able to take anymore second guesses. You were already doing that yourself. “We just took shifts keeping watch. That’s it.”

You knew they were right but the thought of showing affection toward y/n like that when you still weren’t sure what you felt made you feel…gross. Like you would be forcing her to do things she wasn’t sure of, or didn’t want. This, of course, only worries you about last night. About whether she meant to kiss you, whether you did. Whether she wanted to, or did so out of pity.

You evaluate every action, dissect every movement until Brutus comes in. Working with him is almost unbearable and nearly impossible to get into camera mode. He refuses to make it easy. He starts by quizzing you on everything you and her wrote down, any hesitation would result in breaking character and yelling. You maintain at best a casual conversation, which gave you hope on how things would go with Caesar if it came to that. And you needed it to come to that.

“I still think this is a mistake.”

“I know.”

“You’re sure?”

More than anything, actually. “Yes.”

Brutus rolls his eyes and grunts in what you assume is disgust, but he continues with the questions. Y/n comes back with her brothers behind her and interrupts, “Its my turn, Cato.”

“I don’t have anything to ask you.” He dismisses her but Y/n doesn’t budge

“They asked you to question him because you would be the harshest judge. Its my turn.” She turns to you and asks if you can talk to her brothers, and simply nod and follow them into the kitchen. You hear her tell him he needs to really try so neither of them waste eachother’s time and you’re tempted to hang back and hear how it all plays out.

“So what happened yesterday?”

“Hm?” Mallory’s voice snaps you back and you wonder exactly how much shes told them. You only remember her demand to keep them out of it. “In the woods?”

“Yeah. How bad?”

“Not…great. She was doing okay until she tried to shoot an arrow. Then she remembered her games and was thrown off.”

“So, she did hurt herself trying to get the knife?”

“Yeah she thought she needed to grab it quickly and ended up fumbling it before she actually got a good grip on it.”

“Probably good you were there. She trusts you.” Amal pipes in. Guilt hits you like a train again. Mallory just nods but you’re sure he has more questions about what is happening around here. Around their sister. How were you all supposed to help her? How could he help her? Questions you can never answer. You ask more about the hob. Wondering if you could go there alone. Mallory doesn’t recommend it, most people in twelve even stray from trading there. Y/n comes in silently, sitting next to Amal. It was another obvious clue as to exactly how long she had survived in the woods. Her tread was soundless. Had she decided to simply outlive the others in the arena, you’re sure she could have done so.

“How did the interviews go?”

She shrugged, “I didn’t get much feedback. I’ll ask Enobaria later.”

Everyone decides to cook some food up for the two houses. Its seems like a simple breakfast food dish, but the smell that it creates makes you almost salivate. The others fill in as you all finish up. Mallory even has alcohol ready for Haymitch. He actually makes friendly conversation. They have fully accepted each other as family in one sense or another. You stop paying attention when you begin to eat. The voices all intermingle and you drown most of it out. Or you try to. Usually so many people around ends up making you nervous.

Brutus elbows you, forcing you to refocus. You only return his glare but listen to Cashmere as she calls out your name again, “You okay, Cato?”

“Sorry.” You mumble. “What did you say again?”

“Well, I’ve been tired of being cooped up here so I thought it might be nice to go out. I hear the music is completely different here. I was thinking Friday maybe? It would be nice for all of us to go. What do you think?”

Sounds miserable, but you know she’s beginning your public appearances. “Sure. Would be nice to get out of the house, see a different side to 12.”

Y/n smirks, “Tsk. Well, it wont be all that fancy but it is a fun time.”

“You’ve gone before?” You ask

“A few times. I did have some friends outside of my cousin.”

“Yeah, she used to sneak out to go dancing.” Mallory teases

She rolls her eyes, “I only went out a few times. Enjoying the little times I saw anyone that wasn’t strictly business. Besides, all of my old school mates treat me like I have the plague now. It could be good to try and show I havent changed all that much.”

Except she had, no one contradicts her but even she knows it. It was ridiculous of course, to think she only contained herself to the woods. She wasn’t forced to train for the games. But the thought of her missing her old life springs to your mind again. You listen to her stories. The music that is supposed to be banned plays on random days. No one trusts anyone with association with the capitol here, you wonder how she ended up getting the information. You think of your time at the hob. How everyone seemed to know one another. You wondered if she forced herself to buy things there just to gain their trust back. You thought about Darius and how he had kissed her, and you actively have to work to keep the scowl off of your face. You wondered if some of peacekeepers took shifts so as to not get anyone in any real trouble.

The rest of the day is a blur. Plans, conversations, nothing seems to stick out in your mind. You’re relieved when everyone disperses. And even more so when Y/n whispers for you to go to her whenever you can. You wait until you’re sure everyone has at least gone to their rooms before going to find her. You barely knock, terrified of being ordered to go sleep elsewhere.

“So what happened today?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. You seem upset.”

“More worried.”

“Because of what Enobaria said this morning?”

“Mostly. This just…it doesn’t end you know? We’ll have to keep this up forever.”

“I know. Whatever happens we will need to prove to the Capitol we’re together. Could you do that? For that long?”

“Could you?”

“Yes.” You realize you were terrified of any other answer. You decide this cannot keep happening, the same conversation, the same worries making you doubt your plan. You can worry another day. You lay down next to her, ask her to get closer. You decide you wont try anything again. Not until you’re in front of the cameras. Just in case. But keeping eachother company you would allow. If only for your own sanity.

The days go on and Friday is upon you quickly. Y/n’s brothers go on ahead, making sure the music wouldn’t stop because of you and the rest of the victors presence. The group watches as the people dance around you. A few peacekeepers get visibly nervous but slowly let loose as well. Y/n makes small talk with some people around her, offering whatever money she has on her to several of the people who work at the hob. Some stands are still open and you find yourself buying a bracelet similar to yours. You rejoin the group for awhile, Y/n dances with her brothers once, and once with Darius. You try not to let that one bother you, especially since he asks several people to dance with him. She gets all of you to try the faster paced dance movements, Cashmere does exceptionally well. You... do not. You all sit and enjoy other people dancing when Cashmere nods to you. Now or never, you brace yourself as you lean over to whisper in Y/n’s ear.

‘I think its time.’ She smiles and nods and the two of you walk to the farther end of where people are sitting. Close enough plenty of eyes would be on you and far away enough it looks like you both want to speak privately. You take a deep breath, there's no going back now.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Taglist: @chloe-skywalker @ietss @tomihoeka @chiimiki @akinatrix @inky-sun @themedsaintworkin @tiktoks-aphrodite @fredweasleysgirl16 @callsign-haze @thestrals-and-firewiskey @dreamsarenicer

#hunger games fic #hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #tbosbas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #cato hunger games #hunger games cato #cato imagine #cato x reader

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cutpaperbleedswater · 1 month

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Actual genuine question I would sell my soul to have people’s answers for; how is Peeta so /good/ with emotional intelligence and Katniss isn’t?

My first point is Katniss was raised in a loving home, happy but dirt poor, with a father who most likely preached kindness and all things sweet and a mother who would back him up instead of contradict. The younger you are, the more the world sinks into your core, like learning you first language and then trying to learn another later in life. Her parents not teaching her the better of working through your feelings instead of acting on the one you feel churning in your gut. Maybe they did teach her and the grief in the five year gap is understandable but then she always compares her lack of /good/ to Peeta, not her father.

Second point is from what we know of Peeta's childhood contradicts wildly to his stance on emotional intelligence. Katniss says his father has always been a kind man but he’s likely too busy with the bakery, focusing more on teaching the family basics until he’s older. During those lessons there is the chance he is taught about how to appear approachable and charming enough for a girl to fall in love with him, projecting his failed dreams? alongside saying how anger isn’t a good thing in a relationship and how to master your own inner before approaching someone else’s outer. Examples laid around him, from what we know of his brothers, limited, likely only his dad himself and certainly not his mother. The other option is him wanting to be nothing like his mother and doing the bam opposite of her and ravelling apart her character, maybe in attempt of empathising with her.

Y’all please I want to here anyone’s thoughts

#the hunger games #everlark #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #How?!!

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thegreatmelodrama · 10 months

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I had a great chat with some online mutuals/friends about the Hunger Games and we were talking about the comparisons some people were making between Snow and other characters of the trilogy and more specifically Peeta, Katniss, and Gale. Apparently some people are saying that Peeta is very similar to Snow or probably would have had a POV similar to Snow’s if the events of the trilogy were told from his perspective (which is just objectively false). While others say that Gale is just like Snow, which again isn’t exactly true either. However, there is some truth in these statements and this is what I want to focus on in particular.

Peeta, much like a young and even older Coriolanus Snow, possesses a quick wit and the ability to turn his charm on and off. We see this especially in his interviews with Caesar. And the same goes for Snow, and we see this particularly in TBOSAS, especially within the first two chapters as he turns on this charm when interacting with the students and faculty at the Academy. It’s very much a performance of sorts. And yes, there is the whole “in love” (though not really live for Coriolanus) with a girl who also has a past with another guy type of thing. However, the difference is that Peeta’s love isn’t obsession/possessiveness/a need for control disguised as love. His is a true genuine love, the kind where he just wants Katniss to be happy and in his life regardless of whether they end up together romantically. However, it’s also important to note that Coriolanus Snow was given the chance to actually learn what love was and was given every opportunity to correct his way of thinking, and yet always went straight back to power and control.

Then we have Gale. Gale has probably the most in common with Snow of the main three, and yet still differs. People are very quick to hate on Gale, and while I dislike him, his character should be approached with nuance. And it’s important to note that Gale did not start off as a “bad” person or someone who was willing to kill Prim because Katniss didn’t love him back. With that being said, he also demonstrates behaviors and actions that are bad and wrong. Gale is someone who has been deeply affected by the actions of the Capitol and his feelings towards the Capitol are completely understandable and in many ways justifiable, at least initially. The difference comes in his inability to listen to other perspectives and adapt his views, much like Coriolanus. And his inability to do so stems from both his lack of experience of having to kill someone up close while looking into their eyes, and from his latching onto his feelings of anger and resentment in which he blurs and crosses the line between that which is necessary and that which is unnecessary. And while these things certainly allow for an understanding of where he is coming from, they don’t justify his desires for the people in the nut, his views towards Katniss’s prep team, or his overall decision to use the same rule-book as Snow and stoop to his level. His initial feelings may be justified, but that in no way justified some of his later behavior. The second he said that he was using Snow’s rule-book and the instant that Katniss made a comparison between Snow and Gale in her internal dialogue is the point in which alarm bells should have been going off in our minds as well. It shows us that in those moments where Gale made bad decisions, his line of thinking in many ways mirrored that of Snow.

However in many ways he is very similar to Casca Highbottom, someone who put words to a piece of paper which led to so much more: a mere hypothetical that had catastrophic results. And this is what we see with Gale and the bombs. It was something that Gale and Beetee created together to use for the Capitol, however I don’t think Gale or Beetee really considered just how far Coin would go to win the war. Just like Crassus Snow and Gaul took advantage of this hypothetical and employed it into action, Coin does the same and uses Gale’s and Beetee’s bomb designs to kill countless Capitol children and medics, Prim included. The whole point is that Prim’s death shows the unintended and catastrophic effects of war, but also of human actions and agency. Whether or not Gale took anything away from Prim’s death is unknown and is left largely to the interpretations of the readers. However, Casca Highbottom’s lingering guilt over The Hunger Games May serve as an indication that this is something that will most likely haunt Gale forever. With that being said, we see that Gale, much like Snow is taken down a certain path where he is steered and encouraged partially by an older figure (Coin in this case) but even more so steered by his inability to part with certain emotions and convictions in which he refuses to listen to the words of others trying to broaden his perspective and make him think about his actions. He blurs the line between necessary and unnecessary force and violence. However, this doesn’t mean Gale purely is evil or a villain or even close to being like the Snow we see in the trilogy. He differs from Snow in a lot of ways and we see this in all of the good decisions he makes. However, whether or not Gale regrets ever helping create the ideas of the bombs and whether or not he learns anything from some of his bad decisions is something that is up for interpretation.

Lastly there are even similarities between Snow and Katniss. They both share this fixation with not owing anyone a debt. And while Snow is much better with people than Katniss is, both are still untrusting of the people they encounter initially, always keeping a part of themselves guarded from the outside world. And while these are probably the most basic, rudimentary similarities, I mention them for an important reason. Namely, to show that each of these characters and perhaps even more have all shared certain traits with Snow.

The point is that villains are made, not born. Snow was not born a villain or born destined to be a villain. If you remember the conversation between Sejanus and Snow in the arena, one can even see that even though Snow was saying anything to get Sejanus out of there, he did still have rebellious thoughts about the Capitol and the games. The fact that characters have certain traits that Snow has possessed further shows that he, like every single one of those characters, was at one point a kid and a teenager learning more about the world and his place within it. Snow became a villain because of the choices he made and what makes that so impactful is that it is inevitably a story about human agency and the choices we make and whether we learn from them or repeat the cycle. My point is that people have a tendency to view Snow in a manner very similar to the way Snow views humanity: as lacking any inherent goodness and thus having an inherent darkness. However, we are meant to view Snow (and I mean a young Snow) and the rest of the characters—and in fact human beings in general—the way that Lucy Gray views humanity: as having an inherent goodness or propensity to do good. The whole point is that Snow could have ended up differently, his story “might have been otherwise.” And that is so important because it makes his story and the results that came from his path that much more tragic and anger-inducing.

#the hunger games #coriolanus snow #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #gale hawthorne #thg #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas

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maggie32432 · 10 months

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Promises - Finnick Odair Imagine (Part 1)

Finnick Odair and Sirena Nighthart both won their respective Hunger Games at age 14. Both from District 4. Finnick and Sirena both grow up in the Capitol, though keeping their distance from each other. What happens when both get reaped at the Quarter Quell for the 75th Hunger Games?

"Sirena! Sirena! Look over here!" A reporter calls as she turns her body to face yet another camera flash. Even after 9 years of being in the spotlight, she doesn't think that she will ever get used to this.

Sirena flashes another big smile at everyone and gets guided up the steps to the stage. Nobody in the audience would be able to tell that she's sweating bullets, but she's never been this scared in her life.

Not since the games at least.

As she approaches the stage, she sees Finnick Odair standing there by himself. He's the only male tribute alive to have won from District 4, so he already knows he will be participating in the 75th Hunger Games.

Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark won the most recent games. The 74th annual Hunger Games, but ever since then the rioting has gotten worse. President Snow realizes that and he also realizes that Katniss is a symbol of hope to those who are suffering.

Sirena was surprised to learn that President Snow allowed two victors, but the two of them managed to sell their love story so well that she supposes the rules were changed.

She was only 14 when she won the 66th annual Hunger Games, so she has been in the spotlight for many many years now. Her heart races as people surround her and say hello from every direction. She smiles and greets every person, but underneath she is always terrified.

The cameras are on her and the crowds of people from her district look up at the victors with pride.

It's easy to put up a front for the people, but they don't realize how it is all a fraud. "Well well well, Sirena Nighthart," an all-too-familiar cocky voice says,

"Finnick Odair," she says with a forced smile as he offers her a hand as she walks up the steps. Both are past victors from District 4, so they have crossed paths many times since they were just children. Finnick and Sirena won back-to-back games, both to be the youngest victors Panem has ever seen.

They keep conversations light and casual whenever they get to see each other in the public eye, but both know each other's secrets. Of course, he never directly told her, but it's hard to both exist in the Capitol and not know about the prostitution he was forced into.

The only reason she wasn't forced into the same situation is that President Snow wanted to keep her image to the public as 'pure' and 'innocent'. It's a joke. An innocent little girl who murdered 9 people.

She knows that she is Snow's pride and joy, though it makes her sick.

Sirena stands on the other side of the stage beside Mags, her old mentor, and Annie Cresta. Annie won a few years after Sirena did, bringing even more joy to District 4 than Finnick and herself already had.

Her heart beats out of her chest. Hardly surviving the first games alone, she doesn't know how it's possible to make it through once again for a second time. Especially against opponents who have all won in the past.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"The male tribute from District 4...Finnick Odair," the announcer says and Sirena closes her eyes, feeling nauseous. "And the female tribute to represent District 4..."

Everyone watches the small piece of paper be plucked from the bowl, thus deciding her fate,

"Sirena Nighthart," The crowd roars in excitement and more cameras flash her way, and she flashes a smile. It is the most forced smile she's ever done. It is taking every ounce of strength not to start sobbing.

Finnick walks over to her, also having his usual cocky smirk plastered on his face. He takes her hand and raises it into the air as the crowd cheers more. She is trying so so hard to not let her body shake right now, He continues to smile but then gives her hand a reassuring squeeze.

Immediately a pair of hands lead her body away from the stage and to the train. It doesn't matter anyway...being an orphan and having no family to say farewell to. The guards push Sirena and Finnick onto the train and the doors shut once they're fully in.

"Looks like Snow finally upped his creativity level," Finnick says to her with a smirk as the guards lead them to another room, but she doesn't return the smile, "This isn't like the last time. Last time we were all nervous teenagers, now we're fighting skilled victors. Some of which are our friends," She says,

"Good. Makes it more fun," he grins confidently and walks away down to the other end of the train. Her stomach churns in fear as she walks in the opposite direction to the couch at the back of the train.

As she sits there she checks to see what other Victors have been chosen to fight in the 75th Hunger Games. The older ones will be easy enough, but the most recent ones are a scary thought to her. She learned a long time ago to trust nobody but herself.

The train gets to the Capitol faster than she would've preferred.

She gets off the train with Finnick somewhere behind her. Making this into a joke is exactly what she should've expected from him, and honestly, she doesn't know how he manages to put up that front with their lives on the line.

They silently enter the vehicles that take them to the towers where the tributes are all staying. This is when the real show begins. Sirena's known all these people personally for years and has never seemed like a threat to any of them because she didn't need to.

Now she needs to.

They walk into the building and suddenly are surrounded by people they know. What she's noticed consistently are cameras. The stage, the train, the cars, and now here in this building. There are video cameras in every single place they've stepped foot. This is nothing new for either of them, knowing that Snow is watching each and every move they both make.

Finnick walks a distance behind her, not that it matters since they'll be staying in the same suite anyway.

They enter their respective bedrooms without a word.

#finnickodairxreader #finnickodairimagine #hungergamesimagine #hunger games imagine #hunger games x reader #hunger games x oc #hungergamesxoc #finnick odair x oc #finnick odair imagine

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ch1llyic3y · 1 year

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Jily + Everlark

Explaining how their relationships and their characters are similar yet the polar opposite. (Very long)

I'm not a swiftie but Taylor swift references are used to help explain my concept!

It was about time I mixed my favorite ships because honestly, they're so alike, yet so different. And I'd like to share my insight on it.

With the ships themselves, it's hard to even explain the way I feel. It's so complex, they're so complex. Yet so damn simple. It's like loving a flower but it being poisonous. So, it's a shame that you can't have something so breathtaking.

Everlark is often known as star crossed lovers. But I think their trope is truly he fell first, she fell harder. "The star-crossed lovers of district twelve" Two kids. Two teenagers put in a terrible situation with the thought of one outcome. When they thought they had so little time. They took those moments and cherished them to where they felt like an eternity. Because that's what they were told. That's what they thought. They thought the minute they blinked destruction would hit. They were meant for destruction and tragedy. But they got creation and beauty. Something they were not expecting. They were prepared for death. But they got something much worse. Yet much better. They got their happy ending. With a price of no return. That's something not everyone can have. So, they accept it knowing its better than nothing.

Jily is the harry potter ship. Underrated now but it doesn't change the effect they have. They're know with the trope; he fell first, she fell harder. When their true trope is star crossed lovers. Cause even though they were in each other's face with all the time in the world. All this time to make memories. All this time for happiness before their soon destruction. They don't reach for it. They don't grasp it until it's too late because they didn't know. How could they know? They weren't lucky enough for a warning. So, they spent three years avoiding each other. One year of one-sided pursuits. Two years in a friendship, one side yearning for more. And five years unknowingly taking every second for granted. They had so much time but at the same time so little. It felt so small. They wanted a happy ending, but it would've come with the price of losing their child. And as far as prices go that's one that cannot be accepted.

Peeta and James are so similar, yet so very different in the romantic aspect. These boys loved one girl. Their entire life. Never another. There may have been people they dated or looked at or crushed on. But it always came back to that one girl. A girl who wouldn't give them the time of day. In James case he pursued. He tried until he got the answer he wanted, or she pushed him away. Because though he loved her and may never stop. Her respected her wishes and her boundaries. In Peeta's case he loved from the sidelines. He watched and he memorized. He gave her space, because he knew, or well he thought he'd never in a million years cross her mind. And it turned out each of their cases were different. (fanon/headcanon) Lily approached James and asked him out. Right about the time he had given up. Because he felt as he was annoying her. And wasting his time. Peeta went out on live television and (didn't even tell her) flat out said he loved her. Now let's be a little honest. Katniss could've possibly won the hunger games, by herself. Without him. Or (possibly) sponsors. That was Peeta being selfish and James being selfless. Very different for their characters, yet so in character for them.

Katniss and Lily are so different, yet so very similar. Neither of them had love on their mind. They needed no boy except for their best friend who let them down in the long run. Lily knew of James's love for her, and she kept rejecting him until she felt as she should give him a shot, when he was nearly moved on. And that was an act of selfishness. Katniss knew nothing of Peeta's love for her and when she did, she could not reciprocate given the situation they were in. And when she finally was able too. They were looking death in the eye, and she made the choice to sacrifice herself for him. And that was selfless. And to her fandom Lily's selfishness overweighs her many many selfless acts. And Katniss selfless act is ignored and all anyone sees is the girl who selfishly led Peeta on, for her safety. And hating him for a 'situation she put him in.' These two women may not share the situations, but they share similar problems of being treated as supporting roles in their own stories. Simply because their male counterpart is hot. Or wanted in a queer ship. Therefore, fans needing to make them a villain or overlook them.

Taylor references incoming. Get tissues!

Katniss and James are so damn similar it's scary. And pretty damn crazy because she came from nothing, and he came from everything. Now this is where the Taylor swift references come in. They are the archers. Let that sink in, throw your phone, scream in your pillow, play the song on replay and cry. But realize it. Let that shit sink in then let me pay for your therapy. Katniss and James have both been in situations where they have been the 'problem' or they'd caused pain for someone else. But they have also been victims. Overlooked victims. Katniss lost her home, lost her sister, her best friend, her mother, her father, EVERYTHING. But all people can talk about is everlark and how cute they are. This girl is traumatized and you're talking about a relationship right now? James is someone who is seen as a thirst trap and a therapist friend. AND ONLY THAT. They're the therapist friend who jumps to help everyone whilst they suffer in silence. James and Katniss are two people with this fear of abandonment yet lose everyone and everything they love no matter how hard they try to keep it. They're so self-aware. They're so panicky. It's just that Katniss is openly aware, and James is not. Katniss and James are so alone in their own mind that they tell themselves, they have nothing. But they do have something. They have someone. And crazy enough that person they have, that person who sees them. TRULY. Is a person they accidentally overlook.

Lily and Peeta are mirrorballs. It's okay to cry. It's true. It's a sad realization but it is true. These are two characters who work hard for what they earn but are looked at as it was handed to them. Gale and even Katniss at one point looks at Peeta as though he is lucky for the life of a merchant. Though is silently being abused. Lily's sister looks at her as a perfect princess who was handed the life of a witch. Not knowing her sister is suffering. She is hated just for being a muggleborn. So they try. And they try to please people they search for this validation. Peeta joined the wrestling team, but I doubt that's something he wanted to pursue. He was preparing to find a merchant wife though he loved a seam woman. All so his mother wouldn't hate him. Lily searches for academic validation because she feels as though she has something to prove. She has to show not only her parents but her sister and her peers that she earned her spot at Hogwarts, and it was not handed to her. They can easily be forgot in the background. No one talked about Peeta, no one looked for Peeta. Until those interviews came out but even then, no one tried until he did something for them. Lily is rarely in marauders fic even though she is actually canonically their friends and one of their love interests. And she is not talked about unless she's dating James. Peeta and Lily are constantly putting others before themselves and the minute they do something even remotely selfish they're back smacked. You thought Katniss and James were bad? Lily and Peeta suffering and they don't even know it.

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reblrths · 9 months

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OPEN STARTER | capping at five ( 3 / 5 )

a sharp, ragged gasp is what slices through the air when they awake, feeling every bit as in pain as if they were the one to go back into the arena. it takes peeta a moment to remember the events that had occurred before waking, to remember why they can hear their heartbeat racing in their ears and why it hurts to take a deep breath, why there's sweat pooling on their forehead and why there's a deep, gut-wrenching panic that drives them out of bed despite wanting to rot away in it for however long it takes to stop feeling like this.

it's not unlike when he wakes from a nightmare, though it is when his first instinct is to reach over in bed for katniss that he fully realizes. it plays back in his mind - it was no nightmare, though it felt like one had come to life. dragged from her arms, watching with faded vision as she screams for him going up the tube and unable to reach him, unable to scream back, unable to do anything until there's a blunt force against his head that makes everything go black entirely.

peeta, by some unknown driving force, makes it to the nearest television, right when the bloodbath occurs. the cameras are everywhere, it's getting harder and harder to see who is who with all the panic and running. until he does see her, and then he can't not see her in every shot. but something's wrong - he's not there.

the blood in their veins runs ice cold and the lightheadedness swells behind their eyes, not realizing they've stumbled a bit and gripped onto the nearest chair with a white-knuckled grip. peeta tries, he tries, to take a deep breath, and another, and another, tries to level themself but none of it works. anger and remorse fill his veins and he isn't sure when the chair he gripped had ended up on the floor in his rage but his head is in his hands now, that much he knows. it was all for nothing - every single bit of it, every attempt to get them out. katniss - oh, what must she think? the worst, probably. that they've taken both her husband and her son from her - this makes them turn to the tv again, watching her in action, fear gripping at him entirely until the sound of someone approaching makes him jump. peeta looks around at the scene before him, wishes he could regain what semblance of composure he might have, but it's all stripped too thin. "sorry," they mumble. "i hadn't meant to make a scene."

#mj.open #threads | peeta mellark #tw injury

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looneyleyle · 11 months

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darlin pt. 2 ~ f. odair

pt. 1 ||| pt. 2 ||| pt. 3

synopsis: finnick and aldrea have both survived the hunger games once, can they do it again?

warnings: hunger games typical violence, death, mentions of panic attacks

words: 7525

aldera pov

after the 74th hunger games, things were oddly quiet in district 10. we heard whispers of uprisings in the other districts, but we were too busy trying to find our next meal to contribute to any rebellion. the sentiments were there, though, the anger towards the games and the capitol, and the hope that katniss and peeta gave the districts. but we kept quiet, keenly aware of the peacekeepers lurking at every corner.

in all honesty, life in district 10 had become quite repetitive for me, though i'd never admit it out loud. it felt insensitive. everyone else in the district was fighting for their lives, and yet here i was, sitting in my comfortable home with more money than i needed, without a job or need for a job. not everyone was struggling, i guess. imena was finally getting better. she had a beautiful baby girl with, ironically, one of the cattle slaughterers in the district. he was really quite kind, forced into the job much like imena was with the games and mentoring. i would babysit their girl from time to time, either when the two wanted some time to themselves, or on the rare occasion that imena would have another breakdown.

the 75th hunger games were quickly approaching. the quarter quell, as they called it. every quell, there would be some sort of twist to make the games more exciting for those sick bastards in the capitol. in the first quarter quell, the districts had to vote on who to send into the games. in the capitol's eyes, it served as a reminder that we were the ones who chose to start the rebellion, and that we were the reason why the hunger games even existed. in second quarter quell, each district sent in four tributes as opposed to the usual two, reminding us that for every capitol citizen that was killed in the war, two district rebels died.

at order of the capitol, all citizens were to watch some sort of special announcement today, presumably to announce this year's twist. i sat alone in my living room, a cup of tea nestled in my hands. as snow appeared on the screen, anger flowed through my veins. just looking at him made me want to throw some sort of weapon at him. maybe a spear. maybe a dagger. or maybe a trident.

"ladies and gentlemen," he started, the capitol citizens going wild for him, "this is the 75th year of the hunger games, and it was written in the charter of the games that every 25 years, there would be a quarter quell to keep fresh for each new generation the memory of those who died in the uprising against the capitol. each quarter quell is distinguished by games of a special significance. and now on this, the 75th anniversary of our defeat of the rebellion, we celebrate the third quarter quell, as a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of the capitol." each word out of his vile mouth caused my skin to crawl. it was a jab at the districts, a threat, maybe even a promise.

"on this, the third quarter quell games, the male and female tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of victors in each district." i felt the world closing in on me. my breathing became shallow, and i had to shakily put down my cup as to not drop it all over myself. "victors shall present themselves on reaping day regardless of age, state of health, or situation."

the air was heavy, like a block of lead. i couldn't breathe. outside, i needed to get outside. i fumbled around until i got to the door. opening it, i saw that i wasn't the only one with that idea. my good-for-nothing mentor counterpart was out, throwing empty beer bottles at the ground in rage. imena's husband was rocking his child in his arms in comfort, i could only assume imena was having a breakdown inside. her husband looked at me, and i could see it. he didn't have to come all the way over to me for me to see what he wanted.

he wanted me to volunteer for her.

why wouldn't i? on paper, i had nothing. no family to support, no parents to care for, no partner to come home to, no job to work. all i did was sit around all day. imena, however, had a family to support. she was already taking care of her parents by letting them live with her. she had a lovely husband to come home to at the end of the day. and while she had no official job, she was tasked with the burden of motherhood. it would be selfish of me to not volunteer. but could i do it? to volunteer would be to sign my own death certificate.

instead of answering his unasked question, i went back inside. somehow both the outside and inside were suffocating. at least inside i could suffer in peace, without judgement.

on reaping day, i wore a simple blue and white striped dress. it was something my mother had gifted me before she passed. she would tell me about how all of her best moments happened in that dress. she got proposed to in that dress, married in that dress, found out she was pregnant in that dress, and so on and so forth. granted, she only had so many dresses in her wardrobe, i think it was one of the only four outfits she owned. i was hoping that some of that luck would carry over. i stood on the platform, next to imena. there were two living male victors and two living female victors.

"ladies first." the capitol woman stuck her hand into the bowl containing our names. i could hear imena's breathing pick up. there were only two of us, i knew that the odds were not in my favor.

"the female tribute from district 10, aldera meadowwood." i felt bile well up in my throat. i slowly moved over to the woman, not even paying attention to who got picked for the male tribute. it didn't matter, did it? one or both of us would be dead in the coming weeks.

the train ride to the capitol was maddening. i was left with just my thoughts as the male tribute, who was in fact my useless counterpart, was spending his remaining moments with the love of his life, liquor.

i was able to win the games once, and it nearly destroyed me. i only survived my games through allies. i had partnered up with some solid tributes, not any careers though. we stuck together, but knew that as soon as the last person not in our little group was killed, it would be every man for himself. it never got to that point, though. each of us died one by one until it was just me and the district 5 boy. he was 18, a year older than me at the time. the two of us weren't friends per say, but we had both saved each others' lives, earning the other's respect. the two of us were tracking down the remaining tribute, the boy from district 1. while we were making our way to the cornucopia, the boy snuck up on us, impaling my partner. the district 1 tribute was reveling in his kill when i struck him with my knife, hitting him right in the chest. a couple more swipes at him out of pure fear for my life and the cannon sounded, signalling my win. i don't know if i could do it again, not with equally as skilled victors to go up against.

the capitol woman assigned to district 10 came in, recommending that i watch the other reapings. i came out to the common area and sat in front of the tv as she started the program.

district 1, cashmere and gloss. i didn't know much about them besides the fact that they were siblings.

district 2, brutus and enobaria. i had only heard rumors about what enobaria had done with her teeth, and they were confirmed when she gave the audience a sharky grin.

district 3, wiress and beetee. i knew from my time at the capitol that beetee was the creator of most of their technology. i remember finnick telling me once that him and wiress were absolute geniuses.

speaking of finnick, i held my breath when the recording got to district 4. i balled up my fists and had to force myself to watch the screen. please not finnick, please not finnick.

district 4, finnick and mags.

i thought i had already cried all of my tears, but apparently not, as more came flowing when i saw his face on the screen. why him? there were plenty of district 4 winners. it could have easily been any of them. i tried to tell myself that this was a good thing. i was guaranteed an ally, right? what finnick and i had, whatever it was, wasn't fragile enough to be broken by the games. but that also meant that i was almost guaranteed to watch him die, or have him watch me die. more bile welled up in my throat.

i missed the district 5 and 6 tributes while in the midst of my breakdown. district 7 had blight and johanna. i had the privilege of being introduced to johanna once before, while the usual female mentor from 7 was on some sort of medical leave. johanna was… quite the personality, in a bad way for the capitol, but an entertaining way for the rest of us. she wouldn't let you forget her hatred towards the capitol. i could only imagine the hell she was raising for being reaped.

"we're almost to the capitol." the lady informed me, going off to find the other victor. i vaguely heard him cussing her out, speech slightly slurred. glad to see that he was his usual chipper self in his last moments.

i tuned back in as they announced the district 12 tributes, peeta and katniss. of course, that was what this was about. they had unknowingly stirred the pot by trying to save their lives, and the capitol needed a way to get rid of them without causing a scene.

my stylist took a bit longer than usual to tidy me up. he said it was because i kept fidgeting, but who could blame me? i was anxious, not to mention itching to see finnick. i had been fighting off another breakdown since getting here, and i knew only finnick would be able to get me through it.

i found finnick talking to katniss, a slightly disgusted look on her face. i immediately made my way towards them, and as if he could sense me, he turned around right away, a mixture of emotions clouding his face. i ran to him, making the nearby peacekeepers jolt forward a bit. when i wrapped my arms tightly around his torso, him doing the same, they relaxed, deeming that this was not a dangerous situation. i buried my face into his shoulder, being slightly mindful to not smudge my makeup onto him.

"finn," i breathed out, overwhelmed by all the emotions attacking my heart. anxiety, anger, confusion, relief, worry, depression, and something else that i dared not speak. it all bombarded me.

"hey dera," he whispered.

"finnick, i don't know if i can-"

"shhh, darlin, it's going to be alright." i held onto him for a bit longer before composing myself.

"you're right. it's fine. we're going to be fine." i affirmed. a smile spread across his face.

"that's the spirit. sugar cube?" he offered, holding it out to me.

"how can you be so relaxed about all of this?" i laughed, taking the sugar cube anyways and popping it in my mouth. finnick's eyes lingered on where the sugar cube had been mere moments prior.

"i like your outfit, or should i say, lack thereof," i teased, poking his bare chest. his smirk widened.

"i can tell from the drool," he quipped back, motioning to my mouth.

"why are you looking at my mouth mr. odair?" i smirked, pulling him a bit closer to me by his necklace. he stared for a moment, opening his mouth to say something back before being interrupted by someone behind me. i turned around to see mags. finnick had told me all about her during our years mentoring together. she pointed at me with a smile, looking at finnick. he laughed, running a hand through his hair.

"yep, this is aldera. dera, this is mags." he quickly introduced. i shook her hand, smiling.

"he's told me so much about you, it's nice to finally meet you." i told her. she gave finnick another knowing smirk. i talked to her about the things finnick had told me about her, adding in some funny stories about finnick from my time mentoring with him. while i was telling a story about him eating the food off of a sponsor's plate in retaliation for them not sponsoring his tribute, i felt a stare on my face. i looked to my left to see finnick just looking at me, the softest smile playing with his lips, eyes slightly crinkled. the image burned itself into my memory, consuming my body with a fiery warmth in the best kind of way. i returned the smile before resuming my story.

i didn't get much farther in the tale before we were told that we had to get to our chariots. i held an arm out for mags, helping her get to her chariot. once she was in, i looked to finnick. he took my hands in his, not saying anything. a peacekeeper started to make his way over to us, so i let go, not wanting to get beat up right before showing myself to the capitol.

training began the next day. i spent my time relearning knife and sword tricks, as well as some refreshers on basic survival skills. i remembered a lot of them, as i preached them to my tributes each year, but a lot of these mentors were in the same boat as me. i had to stick out, or be able to do something unique. after all, the capitol just wanted a good show. it's all they ever want.

that night, finnick invited me to his room. i had never been in it, he would always come to mine. when we got inside, there was a group of victors lounging around. i grabbed onto finnick, looking up at him with confusion in my eyes.

"finnick, what's going on?" i whispered. he leaned down so his lips hovered next to my ear.

"trust me, okay darlin?" i nodded warily, following him to an empty couch.

"well then, now that the youngins are here, we can finally begin," haymitch said, somewhat sarcastically, taking a final swig of his whiskey. beetee, johanna, mags, and chaff all sat around haymitch, listening to his every word.

haymitch explained the plan, to keep katniss alive, to go to a safe place. haymitch told us how there were 'high ranking capitol people' in on the plan, but that didn't do much to soothe my worries about his scheme.

when he finished his explanation, all the others agreed, including finnick. they were to spread the word to anyone who would be willing to help us. i had my doubts about the plan, about haymitch's motives, and about his 'connections', but i trusted finnick. he's a smart man. if he was willing to die for this, then it was obviously a fight worth fighting.

the others made their way out of the room, apart from me, finnick, and mags. mags gave us a wave and a motherly smile before going off to her room, leaving me and finnick alone.

"are you sure about all of this?" i asked.

"what do you mean? do you not want things to change?" he asked, confused.

"of course i want things to change. i'm just worried about the uncertainty of it all. who are haymitch's 'connections'? can we trust them? can we trust the other tributes?" i voiced. finnick pulled me in and ran his hands up and down my back, trying to soothe me.

"i don't know darlin, but we have to at least try. they're the best chance we've got to take down the capitol. if we're gonna die either way, i'd much rather die trying to burn this shit show down than as their little plaything." he grinned, and a small smile grew on my face, his enthusiasm was infectious. he started to slowly rock us back and forth, my eyes closing a bit. i felt content, being in his arms. he brought a certain comfort to me that no one else could. there wasn't anyone else i would want to spend my last moments with.

"let's get you to bed, alright?" he whispered into my hair. i nodded, and he started moving me not towards the door, but towards his room. i didn't object, my heart warming ever so slightly. he got me a comfy shirt to put on and then got into the bed with me, his arms still around me. i laid my head on his chest a bit timidly, we were venturing into uncharted territory. we had never slept in the same bed together, never going past the comforting hugs to soothe each other's worries. our relationship, whatever it was, was weird, and we both knew it. we never spoke about it, mainly because we never felt a need to. we were there for each other, and that's what mattered.

the next day brought the interviews. my stylist dressed me in a low-cut, billowy white dress with a dark grey corset. it was much more simplistic than any of my other hunger games outfits. what sealed the deal was the necklace put on me. it was made of a brown cord and had a spiral shell dangling from it. i looked up at my stylist, who was looking at me with a smirk.

"how did you know-" i started, looking at what seemed to be a carbon copy of finnick's necklace.

"finnick suggested it. i had a beautiful blue and gold gown thought up for you, but i think i like this idea a lot better," he winked, putting the finishing touches on my hair and makeup. i was then ushered into a room to wait for my turn and watch the other interviews.

cashmere and gloss played into the brother-sister dynamic, spouting bullshit about how the capitol was their family. beetee plainly commented about how the quarter quell could be taken out of the law, how it wasn't too late to stop. when finnick went up there, in an outfit very similar to mine, i perked up.

"i understand that you have a message for somebody out there. a special somebody," caesar started, waiting on the edge of his seat. finnick chuckled, keeping his lips sealed.

"can we hear it?" caesar continued, anticipation buzzing from both him and the audience.

"my darlin, you have my heart for all eternity, and if… if i die in that arena, my last thought will be of your lips, which i have waited so patiently to kiss," he recited, looking straight at the camera. my body seemed to explode with emotions. i grasped at the necklace that sat low on my chest, holding it tight. finnick then took his necklace and kissed it, mouthing three words to the camera with a soft look that i had seen many times before.

after finnick was johanna, who had quite a lot to say, and quite a lot to be bleeped out. the tributes kept going, either voicing their 'love' for the capitol, hate for the capitol, or their sob stories to try and keep themselves alive.

"you're up," my stylist told me, pushing me towards the curtains.

"and next up, from district 10, the ever so lovely aldera meadowwood," caesar announced. i walked in, and caesar's face seemed to light up. he waited until i made my way up to him and shook his hand before he spoke.

"wow, i love the outfit. seems to remind me of another tribute's outfit tonight," he smiled out at the audience. gasps and swoons came out from the crowd. "now, i had heard rumors about you and a certain mentor being joined at the hip during the past few games, but this, this certainly seems to give some validity to what i've heard. any comments?" he asked, dying for details.

"let's just say i haven't exactly spent every night in the capitol alone for the past couple of games," i teased. finnick was the capitol's prince, their flirtatious little victor. i had to keep up his reputation. 'ooh's and 'aah's and whoops and hollers filled the room.

"wow, just wow," he commented, almost too stunned to speak. i turned around and looked up at the other tributes, finnick smirking down at me. i took my necklace and kissed it, just like finnick had. i then just held it, looking down at the ground.

"what seems to be the matter?" caesar asked. i sighed.

"i just wish it didn't have to end like this. we were supposed to live the rest of our lives in peace, and we were gonna spend all of those years together. but with the quell… it doesn't look like we'll be able to. if only we were able to love under different circumstances…" i trailed off, wiping the tears from my eyes. it wasn't necessarily a lie. i did truly wish that we were able to do all of this under different circumstances. was i playing it up a bit for the audience? yeah, who wouldn't? this was a matter of life or death.

"well would you look at that, folks, star-crossed lovers from different districts. it has been an absolute pleasure miss meadowwood, as always." the crowd gave their applause, and i made my way up to the rest of the victors, finnick smiling at me as i came up. the rest of the interviews went by, with katniss and peeta dropping the baby bomb. the crowd went feral at that, various audience members screaming for the games to be cancelled. when the two joined us at the top, we all linked hands and raised them up in solidarity.

the lights flickered off and we were all rushed out of the room. peacekeepers ushered us to our rooms, grabbing our arms harshly, not giving us a chance to move on our own.

"finnick!" i yelled, not being able to see.

"aldera!" i heard his voice call back, too far away to make it to.

the peacekeeper dragged me up to my apartment and pushed me into the room, slamming the door. i tried opening it but it seemed as though the peacekeeper was blocking me from doing so. i huffed and went over to the couch, laying down in exhaustion.

a fair amount of time had passed, and i hadn't moved. all of a sudden, there was a knock on my door. i went over and opened it, seeing finnick and a peacekeeper. he came inside and the peacekeeper yet again slammed the door. finnick rushed over to me and wrapped his arms tightly around me. both of us were still in our matching get ups from the interviews.

"how were you able to make them let you in?" i asked, still holding onto him tightly.

"let's just say that snow owed me a few favors," he mumbled into my shoulder. "you look beautiful, by the way."

"you too, my handsome little pirate," i laughed, him chuckling along with me.

"c'mon, we need to get some sleep. we won't be able to rest well in the games," i told him, squeezing his arm lightly. he nodded into my neck and swiftly picked me up, causing me to let out a surprised shriek.

"finn!" i laughed, him carrying me to the bed. he dropped me down onto the bed, him following closely behind. he then reached his hands around to my back, helping me remove the corset. he took his own off, leaving us in the flowy white clothing. i pulled the blanket up and over us, nestling my head into his chest. he left a kiss on my head, hand drawing circles on my arms.

"we're gonna make it out of these games, the both of us," he whispered.

i woke up the next day with the area next to me empty. i assumed finnick had to go to get ready for the games. i did the same, eating the last actual meal i would have in a long time, taking a nice long shower, and braiding my hair. i knew my stylist would do all of this again later, but it comforted me to think that i had some sort of independence in all of this.

before i knew it, i was on the platform, waiting to go up and into the arena. the lights blinded me once we got up, the sound of water swooshing around me. my eyes adjusted to see that the platforms were surrounded by water, with rocky formations leading up to the cornucopia. i kept haymitch's plan in mind. i looked to my left to see mags, and to my right to see peeta. perfect.

when the cannon boomed, i dove straight into the water, making my way to the rocks. i learned to swim a couple years back with finnick, when i had told him that district 10 didn't have any bodies of water to swim in. i got up to the rocks and saw mags, who held out a hand to me. i took it, hoisting myself up. we stayed back, i knew finnick would get me a nice knife or two from the cornucopia. i watched as he stabbed a tribute who was trying to kill katniss. no one else was near us, leaving me to watch to make sure nothing went wrong. mags started tapping me hysterically, and i looked to see her pointing at peeta, who was fighting in the water with another tribute.

"finnick!" i yelled. he turned around and saw the commotion, quickly grabbing a couple of knives, machetes, and survival packs before running over. he gave all the stuff to me before jumping into the water, going to save peeta. a cannon shot as finnick swam over, each of us holding our breaths to see who had survived. after a moment, peeta's head resurfaced, all of us letting out a breath of relief. finnick helped bring peeta to the shore, the rest of us following suit. we made our way through the jungle, trying to get far away from the other tributes. the heat was sweltering, causing the tensions to skyrocket. three cannons sounded throughout the arena.

"well, i guess we're not holding hands anymore," finnick chuckled. i sent a glare back at him, now was not the time.

"you think that's funny?" katniss asked, tone itching for a fight.

"every time that cannon goes off, it's music to my ears," he continued.

"finnick…" i warned. we all were here to protect katniss, but that would be a bit hard if she ended up slitting his throat before he could get a chance to prove himself to her.

he was able to somewhat gain her trust moments after, when peeta almost died on us from hitting a force field. katniss was screaming on the ground as finnick tried to bring him back. once he was breathing again, finnick got up, leaving he two to themselves. he came over to me and mags, watching the two lovebirds with us.

"i thought it was all an act," he whispered to me. i nodded, taking his hand in mine. he gave my hand a tight squeeze.

"it's gonna get dark soon," finnick informed us. we were all exhausted from the hours of walking without any food or water. "let's take turns sleeping. i can take first watch."

"not a chance," katniss argued. finnick rolled his eyes, and i had to prevent myself from sighing in annoyance.

"honey, that thing i did back there for peeta? that was called 'saving his life'. if i wanted to kill either of you, i would've done it by now." i put a hand on his arm, trying to calm his down. the heat and dehydration were getting to us all. finnick got up to make mags more comfortable. he came back and sat right next to me, leaning up against a tree and bringing my head down to rest on his arm.

"why don't you get some rest darlin?" he whispered to me.

"okay. don't kill each other," i joked, receiving a small chuckle from him.

i woke up to the sound of that dreaded anthem. we watched as the faces of the fallen tributes flashed in the night sky.

"eight."

the five of us sat there, taking it all in. we truly were back in this hellhole, the place that has plagued our nightmares. our thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a chime.

"hey…" katniss said, standing up and grabbing the capsule. she opened it quickly, reading the note. "'drink up'…" she pulled out a tiny silver trinket. she brought it up to a tree, mumbling something about a 'spile'. she stuck it in, and after a couple of moments, water flew out of it.

"holy shit," i mumbled, quickly getting up. katniss got the first few sips, laughing out in relief. peeta went, and then finnick, who lapped at the water like a madman. i nearly pushed him out of the way, the refreshing liquid filling my mouth. i laughed, letting the water hit my sweaty face.

"i'm gonna get a leaf," finnick said, grabbing one to get some water to mags. he filled up the leaf and brought it to her, helping her drink.

later on, we were jostled awake by katniss's screams.

"run! run! the fog is poison!"

we were on our feet immediately, finnick helping mags up. the five of us ran for our lives, the fog closing in on us from seemingly every direction. it nipped at our feet, staying at our heels no matter how fast we ran. i heard finnick scream behind me, and i stopped for a second.

"finnick?!" i yelled.

"keep going!" he panted, his face scrunched in agony. i followed his orders, picking up my speed again.

i didn't see what happened, but in the midst of the madness, katniss and peeta stopped, peeta groaning in pain.

"i can't carry him," she cried. i looked at finnick, i wasn't nearly strong enough to carry the boy. it would be a death sentence for the both of us. i watched as mags got off of finnick and started walking the other way. my heart dropped and eyes widened in horror.

"mags?" finnick called, slowly looking back. she gave him a sad smile before walking into the fog.

"mags! mags!" finnick sobbed, starting to follow her. i lurched forward at that, pulling him back.

a cannon fired.

"finnick, we have to go," katniss told him. "we have to get out of here."

"finnick, we have to go," i told him, his face streaked with tears. he nodded, picking up peeta and starting up again. the fog was too close now, licking at our feet, legs, and arms. i hissed in pain as i took a turn too wide, causing the fog to cover my shoulder. the fog seemed to be moving faster now. it had claimed one victim, and it was hungry for more. i felt a burning sensation in my calves, and not just from the strenuous running.

"fuck!" i screamed, falling down.

"aldera!"

the rest of them didn't make it much further, the fog soon blanketing all four of us. everything burned like nothing i had ever experienced before. i couldn't move, but i refused to die like this. i crawled forward, despite the scraping of my arms against the ground feeling like hot coals digging into my skin.

"the water! the water helps!" i heard someone yell. i forced myself to move forward, i will not die like this. i will not die.

the water burned my skin in the best possible way. it seemed to sizzle on my skin, clearing the burns and boils with every wave. i looked around to see peeta and katniss in the water, but not finnick.

"finnick!" i yelled, rushing back out of the water. peeta came up with me, helping me carry his nearly lifeless body to the water. he hissed and groaned and cussed at the feeling, but i couldn't let him die.

we were all eventually cleansed of the poison, an eerie silence settling over us. i went up to finnick and tried to put a hand on his shoulder, but he immediately shrugged it off.

"finn," i began to say. he tensed up, i knew he didn't like pity.

"no. not right now," he told me, his hands tightly gripping his trident.

"okay…" i trailed off, giving him some space. "i'm gonna go look for some food, none of us have ate in a while." i told the group. katniss and peeta were too busy whispering to each other, and finnick was staring off into the water with a blank look, so i took that as my cue to leave.

third person pov

not long after aldera left the group in search for food, katniss spotted something in the trees.

"peeta…" she whispered, "walk over here slowly." he looked up and came face to face with a not-so-friendly furry creature. he tried to step back slowly, but the monkeys didn't care, they started to scream and growl at him.

"aldera!" finnick screamed, looking around for her. she was nowhere in sight, causing him to panic. he couldn't lose both of his girls in one day. it would be too much.

"finnick, we have to go!" peeta shouted, swiping a monkey out of the way.

"i can't leave her!" he yelled, spearing a monkey with his trident.

"we don't have a choice, you're no good to her if you're dead. a cannon hasn't gone off, there's a good chance she's still alive," katniss reasoned through gritted teeth. she had a point, but finnick wasn't thinking rationally. his mind buzzed with thoughts of her, how he wouldn't be able to live if she died in the arena. peeta grabbed his arm and yanked him away from where they were standing. that seemed to get his feet in motion, the imminent danger of the situation finally dawning on him.

the three ran as fast as they could while still killing the beasts. they were getting real sick of all of this running.

"get to the beach!" one of them yelled, taking a harsh right. the other two followed, finnick swiping at a monkey that was going for peeta's arm. the chase felt like it was never ending, it seemed like the beach was districts away from them.

as a monkey battled with peeta, about to take peeta's life, another tribute jumped out, sacrificing her life for peeta. for a moment, he was too stunned to speak. was she trying to kill him and missed? was she being attacked and had to jump to escape a different creature?

"who is that?" katniss yelled. peeta looked at her, blood seeping from her body.

"a morphling. help me get her!" he yelled, picking up her body. katniss rushed over to help, carrying her other side. finnick was still fending off the monkeys a few paces behind. as soon as the group reached the beach, the monkeys stopped at the shoreline, still biting and growling at finnick. he taunted them from the beach, realizing they couldn't go any further.

peeta and katniss comforted the dying morphling, giving her a view of the artificial sky before the cannon boomed through the air.

moments later, another cannon went off, sending finnick into a panic.

"no, no, no no no no no," he mumbled, running towards the sound. instead of aldera's dead body, he found johanna, wiress, and beetee, all covered in blood.

"johanna?" he yelled, running up to her.

"we were all the way deep into the jungle where i thought it was gonna be safe. that's when the rain started. i thought it was water. it turned out to be blood. hot, thick blood. it was choking us. we were stumbling around, gagging on it, blind," she ranted, rage laced in both her words and gaze. "that's when blight hit the force field. he wasn't much, but he was from home."

guiltily, finnick breathed a sigh of relief. the cannon was for blight, not aldera.

finnick couldn't focus while they fought over wiress's incessant muttering or katniss's realization of the clock arena.

"have you seen aldera? we lost her when we were attacked by the monkeys," he blurted out. johanna let out a slight smirk.

"nope, haven't seen your lover girl since the games began." finnick's heart clenched, she was still alive, but in what condition? she could be bleeding out, the gamemakers prepping the cannons at this very second.

the conversation was interrupted by katniss's scream.

"prim?!" she cried, running back into the jungle. finnick immediately ran after her.

"katniss! katniss stop, it's not real!" he yelled after her. the girl was fast, and with their lack of food, he was lagging a bit behind.

then, he heard it. the sound he had been dreading to hear.

aldera's screams flooded his ears. he knew it wasn't real, it was just the jabberjays, but all rationality left his body. his heart lurched forward, his body following quickly after.

"dera!" he cried, racing after the sounds. his heart cracked with each pained scream. tears flew down his face, his body in physical pain from what he was hearing. he could vaguely hear katniss behind him, but it didn't matter. he needed to find aldera and save her from whatever was harming her. soon, the jabberjays started swooping down, causing the two to fall to the ground. the rest of the group found them, but they were separated by a force field. peeta went by katniss, yelling about how it wasn't real, but she couldn't hear him through the field.

a few moments later, aldera found the group, seeing finnick writhing on the floor in pain.

"finnick!" she screamed, but he couldn't hear her. she ran up to the force field, crouching down to his level and trying to calm him down. he looked up at her, tears streaming down his face. seeing her didn't help soothe him. he couldn't tell the difference between what was real and what was fake. he heard her cries of agony in his ears, and yet he saw her there, calm and in front of him, with his eyes. he grabbed at his head, feeling it split apart from the overstimulation of his senses.

aldera pov

i tried to stay calm for finnick, seeing him crumpled up on the ground. i whispered soothing words, despite him not being able to hear them. when the jabberjays flew away, i ran around the force field with peeta and johanna to grab them.

we all collapsed onto the sand as soon as we reached the beach. finnick and katniss were both still out of it, eyes glazed over and shaking. i kept finnick's head in my lap, running my hand through his hair as a way of comforting him.

"can we go to the water?" he whispered.

"yeah of course," i mumbled, helping him up and moving us so we could sit in the water. he leaned himself against me.

"i thought i lost you both," he told me, fresh tears brewing in his eyes.

"hey, hey, i'm right here," i whispered into his head. he grabbed my hand, holding onto it tightly.

"i knew she wouldn't make it, i just didn't think it would happen so soon," he continued. i didn't know what to tell him, we all knew that it would be hard to keep mags alive.

"i just wish it would end right here. you and me, in the water, with absolutely nothing happening," i whispered, the weight of all of the deaths crushing down on my shoulders. finnick turned rigid against me, moving away from me slightly.

"don't talk like that," he hissed. "i'm not losing you, not after mags, and not with the way i feel for you. i'm getting both of us out of here darlin." my whole body warmed at his words, and i found myself unable to say anything. i opted to squeeze his hand that was interlocked with mine.

after fighting with some tributes on the cornucopia, beetee came up with a plan. i passed around some of the berries i had found while searching for food earlier as beetee explained the plan. it was set into motion that night, the six of us setting off towards the lightening tree. beetee sent johanna and katniss to put the wire into the water, keeping finnick and peeta as his guards. as for me, i was to keep watch for the two women to make sure none of the other tributes would sneak up on them. the two didn't know this, though, as they had too strong of personalities to have someone else watch over their security.

"they should be far enough ahead by now," beetee told me, gesturing for me to go ahead. i looked over at finnick, his face unreadable and fists clenched. i went right up to him, getting close enough to grab his face and bring it to mine, pushing our lips together. he grabbed onto me immediately, pulling me impossibly close. i heard peeta give out a small cough before letting go of finnick.

"stay safe odair," i told him, forehead pressed to his.

"you too meadowwood." with that, i left after johanna and katniss, keeping my eyes peeled for any motion.

soon enough, i saw brutus and enobaria following the two. i couldn't find a way to take out either of them without alerting the other, and there was no way that i would be able to take on shark girl or her muscle man. luckily, it didn't take long for johanna to see them, quickly digging out katniss's tracker and 'leaving her for dead', leading the other two away. katniss got up and started heading back towards the tree, straight at me. i quickly hid, not wanting her to think something was up. i continued to follow her, watching as she confronted finnick. i held my breath as the two conversed, katniss ready to kill him. i had to hold myself back, katniss was the one who had to live, no matter what. somehow, finnick managed to calm her down, reminding her that he was not the enemy.

the lightening began to build up. i watched as katniss formed a plan in her mind, but was interrupted by a hand on my arm. i jumped, before realizing it was just johanna, her body a bit bloody and bruised, but still alive. she took her knife and grabbed my arm, not being the slightest bit gentle as she carved the tracker out of my skin. i refrained from letting out noises of my pain, it would distract katniss and ruin everything.

i felt the hairs on my arms stand up, and it seemed like johanna felt the same, for we both looked up at the sky.

"run," she quietly urged, sprinting away from the tree. i did the same, taking off in the other direction. i sprinted as fast as i could, but as soon as katniss's arrow struck the dome, i was blasted forward, my vision going black.

third person pov

"where the fuck is aldera!" finnick yelled at the three men in front of him. haymitch kept quiet, not wanting to be on the receiving end of the man's rage. plutarch, on the other hand, sighed, knowing that the man would raise hell until he got his answer.

"she wasn't the plan," he explained, finnick's fists clenching. "we looked for her, but we didn't have time to scour the whole arena." finnick got up.

"i wasn't part of the plan, and you saved me! she nearby, i know it, i saw her before katniss shot the damn arrow into the arena." the three older men kept quiet.

a small part of finnick knew that he was being irrational, but he didn't know how he was going to do it. aldera got him through everything. before aldera, he did the capitol's bidding without question. he would drug himself each night to forget about the transgressions made against his body, and then would collapse in his bed, waking up the next morning numb to his feelings. when he met aldera, he wanted more for himself. he wanted to stick it to the capitol, to give them a big 'fuck you' for everything they had done to not only him, but to everyone else. she was there for him, made those nights more bearable, gave him something to look forward to while in the capitol. without her, what would he do? become the empty shell he had been before? he couldn't, he couldn't live like that again, knowing there was something, someone out there that gave his life meaning. the tears came flooding down his face.

plutarch had said that since her tracker was taken out, they had no way of knowing where she was, but finnick knew what plutarch truly thought of the situation. she was probably in the capitol's grasp, just like enobaria, johanna, and peeta.

#finnick x oc #finnick odair #hunger games #catching fire #fanfic

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wreywrites · 6 months

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Tiger Shark

Part 5: The Net

Chapter 27

None of us can believe how this turned out. Of all the ways for the reaping to go, this somehow seems the least fair. But there is nothing to be done now. And nothing is what we do. We spend the train ride in silence, we sit in our living quarters in the new Tribute Center in silence, we watch the replay of the reaping in silence. Cashmere and Gloss from One. Augustus deflates when they call his mentor’s name. Brutus and Enobaria from Two. She bares her teeth at the camera. Johanna, whose name is the only one in the District Seven female fishbowl. In Ten, the woman who didn’t get drawn—Rein, I think is her name—screams when they draw Beau. Alvan volunteers. And in District Twelve, Katniss and Peeta, and Haymitch volunteers.

Everyone goes to bed, but Finnick and I sit on the couch, watching a replay of Johanna’s Games. He reaches over, tapping on my leg, You have to trust me in there. There’s more going on. I can’t say, but you have to trust me. Stay with me.

I nod. Then suddenly, like we’ve never left, I stand up, go to the snack table, and retrieve the platter of cream cheese rolls, because of course they are there. I bring them back to the couch. Johanna goes on her rampage, and Finnick and I eat all the rolls.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

We get the fish nets. I shouldn’t be surprised. Finnick takes it in stride. I am less confident, even when he assures me with a wink that I look good. He passes me a sugar cube, just like five years ago.

“Stay with me,” he says with an easy smile. “Just stay with me.”

I nod. I know what he means. I have never wanted to slip, but I know that I can’t now. Not anymore. It’s not just my life at stake—if I go blank at the wrong moment, that’s the end of Finnick too.

He gives me another sugar cube, and we go out into the waiting area with the chariots and the rest of the tributes.

Someone whistles, and I take half a second to compose myself. I am the Tiger Shark of Four. I look off to the right, and see Gloss.

In spite of all of it, a grin splits my face and I flash a wink back at him. He laughs and waves me over.

“Go on,” Finnick snorts. “I’ll catch up.”

He starts off toward the District Twelve chariot, and I head for Cashmere and Gloss. I only get halfway there when I see someone else I have to talk to.

Alvan and I have spent enough time together to be something like friends. And no one else quite understands what the two of us went through in the arena.

He smiles good-naturedly as I approach, then extends both arms to offer my choice of a handshake or a hug.

I opt for the hug, a little awkward around the light-up belt on his cow costume, but surely that makes it no more awkward than my fish net would on its own.

“I mean this in the nicest way, but we look ridiculous!” I laugh.

Alvan chuckles, a smile lifting one corner of his lips. “Well, ya look better’n me.”

“Thanks. I’m sure that’s what Marius was going for.” I do my best Marius impression. “‘I don’t care what we put them in, they just have to look better than Ten!’”

Alvan laughs, and it is maybe the first time I’ve ever heard him really laugh. He has a nice laugh, a good strong booming laugh that is surprising at first, but fits him perfectly upon inspection.

Then he shakes his head, still smiling, and says, “Ya better get goin’. I’d hate to be the one who held up our Tiger Shark.”

“See you after, then,” I grin as I walk away, on toward Gloss, who gives me what I can only describe as a friendly up-down as I approach. I return the favor. He’s not wearing much either, and he might be approaching thirty, but he’s still in fantastic shape.

“I see you finally ditched Finnick,” he smiles, leaning against the chariot.

I shrug. “Maybe I’m looking for someone a little… newer.”

Cashmere’s bright laugh rings out. “Not sure you’ll find what you’re looking for here. My aging brother just isn’t what he used to be.” She sighs dramatically as she looks off into the distance. “Any day now the Capitol will tell him his services are no longer required.”

I snort at Gloss’s pretended offense, then he rolls his eyes and says so quietly I barely hear him, “Wouldn’t that be horrible.”

Finnick appears next to me, handing me another sugar cube. “Talked to Katniss. She’s…”

Cashmere and Gloss raise opposite eyebrows, giving the hilarious illusion that their outside halves are two pieces of the same person.

“Boring,” Finnick says after some thought. But it’s almost a question, and there’s something strange in his eyes. “Or at least not nearly so interesting as you three.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Cashmere says, reaching for a sugar cube.

Finnick pulls them out of her reach. “Ah-ah-ah.” He pops one in his mouth, then does the same to me.

Five years ago that would have had me up the mast like those stupid strawberries, but now it’s just life.

He grins. “Close your mouth, honey, you’ll catch krill.”

Absently, I close my mouth, watching Finnick smile cheekily at Cashmere.

“You didn’t say please.”

Cashmere rolls her eyes. “I don’t think you made her say please.” She jerks her head in the direction Finnick came from, where apparently Katniss is.

Finnick shrugs. “Didn’t have to. She didn’t want one.”

“Is that the first time a girl has said no to you?” Gloss raises a playful eyebrow.

“It is…” Finnick looks thoughtful. “Not a pleasant feeling.”

The rest of us laugh, and then the anthem starts, signaling us back to our chariots.

“Good luck out there!” Cashmere calls, her clear laugh ringing out as she jumps into One’s chariot.

“You too!” Finnick laughs, grabbing my hand as we hurry back to our chariot with its iron gray horses. It’s a lot easier to run in the fishnets than it was to walk in the mermaid tails.

Before we can take too many steps, Finnick turns back. “Cashmere!”

She turns just in time to see him toss the sugar cube. Face split in a wild grin, she opens her mouth and catches it easily, then turns back to face the big doors as One’s white horses trot out onto Victor’s Way.

Finnick and I jog the rest of the way to our chariot. He springs up, then offers a hand back and pulls me in beside him.

Suddenly it all feels real again.

The horses start forward. I wonder if they’re the same ones from my Games.

My head whips around to look at Finnick before we pass the doors. “What now?” I whisper.

“Smile,” he says, already grinning smugly himself. “You’re the Tiger Shark. Show them your teeth.”

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

After the Parade, we watch Johanna snag an elevator with Haymitch, Katniss, and Peeta.

Finnick chuckles. “I can only imagine what she’s going to do to them.”

“Scare them finless, probably,” I say as we get in an elevator with Mags and Beck.

“Probably.”

We get out on Level Four of the new Tribute Center. I see now what I couldn’t put my finger on about it last night. It looks shinier than the old one. Sharper. Colder. All hard edges and glass.

But the same snack table, and the same plate of cream cheese rolls.

Finnick has already eaten two by the time I return from changing into shorts and an oversized sweater. He’s sitting on the couch, watching the pre-replay of the Parade, still in just the fish net.

I sit down next to him, take a bite of a cream cheese roll, and say, “Are you really going to keep wearing that?”

He glances down, then at me. “Yeah. Do you find it distracting?” He winks.

I roll my eyes. “Something like that.”

It is only a few more minutes until the Parade replay begins, but I can barely force myself to watch it. These are my friends. At the very least, these are people I know. How do you kill someone you know?

“Finnick…”

Thankfully, he seems to know what I want to ask but can’t find the words for.

“I would love to be allies with you, Annie Cresta. I think a good strategy for people of our skill level would be to go straight for the cornucopia. In our interviews, we need to remember who we were when we won, but also show the audience who we are now, and how we feel about being reaped again when they told us we were done.”

I nod. “Alright, Finnick Odair. That sounds like a plan to me.”

Five years ago, he told me most alliances break themselves. It was true then and it is surely true now, but I’m not going to worry about it yet. I have four more days with him before the arena, so I will live these last four days like there is no arena.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

“So,” Beck says over breakfast the next morning, “any ideas on allies yet?”

Finnick shrugs. “Three’s never a bad idea. And I bet Haymitch will be shockingly useful. Ten.” He shrugs again and glances at me.

“Johanna,” I say.

Finnick nods. “Yeah, definitely Johanna. Other than them, we’ll see how today goes, I think. And you two, feel everybody out for us.”

Mags nods eagerly, Beck more reservedly.

We escort ourselves down to the Training Center.

Finnick is almost bouncing. “Think of all those shiny new toys.”

“Finnick…”

“Hey.” He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t think about that. Think about all those shiny new toys. Spears nobody’s ever thrown. Rope that’s never been tied into a knot before. Think about that. This will be just like recess.”

The doors open to reveal less than half of the tributes gathering around the same woman from five years ago.

Just like recess.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Cashmere and Gloss are setting up hammocks. Why there is a station in here with anything resembling hammocks, I don’t know, but I don’t particularly care. I care even less when they wave me over, Gloss sitting up and making room for the two of us to sit next to each other as Cashmere lounges in the other. We watch everyone else for a while. No one seems particularly concerned with any of this. I know we are all planning last ditch attempts for our interviews. Until then, there is nothing to be done, so everyone who bothered to come down to the Training Center is either goofing off—Finnick tying a noose and pretending to hang himself in front of Katniss at the knot-tying station—or enjoying what they are already good at—Johanna throwing some axes in a manner that is much more recreational than “I’m planning to kill you all.” And then there are the three of us in the hammocks, chatting and watching the others.

When they call lunch, we drag all the tables together and sit as one big group, talking and laughing.

I cannot kill these people.

I tell Finnick as much that night as we watch a replay of his Games. There are tears in his eyes every time they show Leena. He doesn’t talk about her. He hasn’t since just after I won, when he told me how hard it is to go on, to keep moving forward, to keep living with what you’ve done and the people you’ve killed.

Beck says ever since the reaping, they have had a constant replay of the Games this year’s tributes won. Curiously absent, he and Mags have noticed, are Katniss’s Games last year, and the last Quarter Quell—Haymitch’s Games—which you would think would be their big-ticket item this year.

Finnick doesn’t answer. He blinks away more tears as he and Leena call off their alliance, and his hand drifts to my leg and he starts tapping. Won’t have to. Trust me. Stay with me, and we shouldn’t have to.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

The next day, about eight of us decide now is as good a time as any to learn to juggle. Seeder knows, and Blight, and by lunchtime the rest of us are not too bad, though my mind is preoccupied with Zalea’s interview, when she said she could juggle eight oranges.

Over lunch at the tables we have once again pushed together, Gloss jokes about juggling for the Gamemakers for his one-on-one. None of us are taking that too seriously either. They know what we can do—or at least what we used to be able to do—and none of us want to be here, so why play their game? Why not play our own?

“Think I’ll weave something,” I say, with a glance at Finnick.

He nods. “I’d tell you to weave me a hammock and then I’ll nap for mine, but I have to go first.”

“Maybe you should weave and I’ll nap!”

Seeder laughs.

Throughout the afternoon, we all discuss what we are going to do. Haymitch jokes about mixing drinks for the Gamemakers. Beetee wants to try to build something that would play the anthem backwards and even launches into an explanation of how he’d do it, but he loses me somewhere along the way. Cashmere says she is going to string up a hammock and nap. Cecelia has several children’s books memorized and thinks she’ll just recite one of them. Alvan and Kivvie are talking about walking the Gamemakers through butchering a cow, which inspires Johanna to try to make a wood carving.

I’ll be amazed if they don’t kill us all before we get in the arena, just because we won’t play by the rules. But it might not be the worst thing that could happen.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

The next day as we wait to be called in before the Gamemakers, everyone—even the people who haven’t been down to the Training Center yet—jokes about the useless things they will show off. Everyone except for Katniss, who seems confused by our camaraderie, but Haymitch says she’ll come around.

I don’t know when. We’re running out of time to all be friends. Once we’re in the arena… Well, I guess Finnick does want Haymitch as an ally. Maybe he and Katniss are a package deal.

Finnick and Johanna and I are laughing at Augustus’s expense, since he isn’t here to defend himself, when the voice calls, “Finnick Odair, District Four.”

He winks at me. “I hope they’re ready to hear the epic tale of Finnick and the octopus!” He’s out the door and I am laughing hysterically. I can only imagine him reenacting the whole story, probably with props and voices.

Johanna raises an eyebrow. “Finnick and the octopus?”

Still giggling, I say, “Yeah, you’ll have to ask him about it tonight. It’s a good one.”

Before I know it, the voice speaks again. “Annie Cresta, District Four.”

I stand.

“Weave good!” Johanna teases.

“Go get ’em, Tiger Shark!” Haymitch calls.

Someone else laughs.

Grinning, I head through the door, and spend my fifteen minutes weaving the best sunhat I have ever woven. Mags would be proud, I think as I settle the hat on one of the archery dummies. The tone sounds, and I leave.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

They show our scores, and they are ludicrously high. All of us from One, Two, and Four pull elevens, despite Finnick saying he dramatically reenacted the octopus story, Gloss’s sworn statement before he went in that he was going to juggle the little rocks that were always at the camouflage station, and me having left a woven sunhat perched jauntily on one of the archery targets’ heads.

Johanna gets an eleven, Alvan gets a ten, and Katniss and Haymitch get twelves.

Finnick swears, though whether it’s at their scores or his dropped cream cheese roll, I can’t be entirely sure.

“Here I was worried about you two having the target on your backs,” Beck says without humor. Then he and Mags go to bed, and Finnick and I settle in with the cream cheese rolls and the Game replay of the night.

When it starts, Finnick reaches for the remote.

“No.” I grab his wrist. “I have to- I have to get through it. If I can’t watch this, I’ll never survive the arena again.”

He looks at me for a minute. Long enough to hear replay-Casca call my name and then Mako’s. Then he nods. “Okay. We’ll watch it. But let me know…”

“I will,” I say quietly, watching Mako walk to the stage to stand next to me.

They are showing the scores when it clicks.

“They want us to kill Haymitch and Katniss first.”

“That is what they want,” he says slowly, emphasizing every word. There’s something he isn’t telling me. I know this, but I also know him. I trust Finnick Odair with my life and with everything else. If I needed to know, he would have told me. Maybe tomorrow he will. But tonight, it isn’t important.

I trust you, I tap on his leg.

He smiles, taps back. I love you.

What a night for confessions.

****

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Tag List:

@avoxrising @snow-dragon-rider @anakins-ride-or-die

#wrey writes #the hunger games #thg: tiger shark #annie cresta #finnick odair #canon typical violence #ptsd #the beta and i have very long and involved backstories for everyone from ten #alvan is my favorite oc and i literally would not shut up about him the whole time i was writing #and from there it snowballed into generational trauma #fyi i literally still will not shut up about alvan #i will talk about him for days

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gladiatefm · 9 months

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@riiseandfall . the arena , day one

she has taken to the woods , to something resembling familiarity following a day of hiking through a snow-swept arena and grieving the life she was handed twenty years ago . two beautiful children and a husband she never deserved , a house with lace curtains and wooden floors , with a fireplace where she would sit with peeta , let them brush her wet hair until she gave into the softness of it all , leaned against them . she would put the hunter away for the night and pull her babies into her lap .

the foolish girl with the arrested development , she is here alone , searching for her son , for something to kill and feed to finnick odair . she is thankful for the snow though it seeps into her skin , the clothes meant to protect her dampening her skin anyhow . at least there's no repeat of her first games , the sandpaper tongue and a desperate search for water .

her guard is high and katniss walks with an arrow notched . gentle footsteps across the snow , soft as she can go as she comes to terms with the absence of rye , all that she has to make up for before she can bear to say goodbye to him .

lost in thought , her head snaps up with the presence of another . she sees dante after he's thrown the spear , and though it's clear his aim is not true , will not hit her , katniss shoots without hesitation . the oncoming spear has thrown off her aim , hit his shoulder , and she's surprised to hear the footsteps of another tribute darting away from behind her . who was he aiming for ? both of them ?

katniss focuses on dante , approaches him and his bleeding shoulder , another arrow notched and she aims for his eye . " give me one reason not to shoot . "

#𝙺𝙰𝚃𝙽𝙸𝚂𝚂 — thread .#& . dante #arena : day one

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jlalafics · 3 years

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"Photograph"-a Royal!Everlark story

This was inspired by this prompt from @writing-prompt-s:

When you were seven, you held a fake wedding by the swings with a kid you met at the park. You never saw your childhood “spouse” again after that day. Today you received a letter summoning you to a foreign country… where your wedding to the heir to the throne twenty years ago is seen as valid.

This is totally unedited. Thank you to @sparklingdust4612 for bringing this prompt to my attention. Looking forward to everyone else's interpretations along with this one and the story by @jhsgf82!

I actually have more of this but I thought I'd show y'all a little bit of my interpretation of the above prompt.

****

We keep this love in a photograph

We made these memories for ourselves

Where our eyes are never closing

Hearts are never broken

And time's forever frozen, still…

-Ed Sheeran

Photograph

Katniss Everdeen loved building castles.

In the massive sandbox, she packed another bunch of sand into her bucket before placing it upside down to set. While waiting, Katniss imagined how she would decorate the inside of her palace, a delighted smile growing on her face as she thought of the possibilities.

First, the walls would all be yellow. Not the ugly yellow that looked like snot—but yellow like Prim’s, her baby sister, golden locks.

Yellow meant hope: that’s what Daddy always said.

Knocking on the sides of the bucket to loosen the sand like Mommy showed her, Katniss slowly lifted it revealing a perfect tower for her castle.

“Yes!” she hollered, jumping up in excitement.

Her eyes went to Mommy who was sitting on the bench across the way. She was talking to a pretty, yellow-haired woman with a big tummy. Prim was asleep in her stroller, her binky hanging from her mouth.

“Mommy!” Katniss rushed over, stopping just a scant from toppling over on the concrete. “Look! I’ve made the perfect tower!”

Her mother smiled proudly.

“That’s wonderful, Katniss.” She turned to the woman next to her. “My Katniss is always building and dreaming on how to make her perfect home. Her teachers tell me that she has such a creative mind for a seven-year-old.”

“How absolutely charming,” the woman responded kindly, a smile on her pink lips.

Katniss tilted her head at the sound of her voice. There was something different about the way the lady talked—the dips of it sounded strange—but still nice.

“Why do you sound like that?” she asked bluntly.

Her Mommy frowned. “Katniss Everdeen! Please apologize!” She looked to the woman once more. “I’m so sorry—”

“That’s perfectly alright,” the lady assured her. The pretty woman turned to Katniss. “I have a little bit of an accent because of where I’m from, that’s why my voice sounds different.”

Katniss nodded. “Okay, but it does sound nice…like a song!” She smiled. “What’s your name?”

The woman glowed like an angel. “My name is Marguerite.”

“Hello Miss Marguerite.” Katniss looked to where her sandcastle waited. “I better go before someone takes my stuff! Bye!”

Throwing a wave at the woman, she plopped back down onto her space in the sandbox ready to add some detailing to her newest tower—

The foot crushing her tower landed straight in the middle of it creating a space between each side.

Katniss fumed and her eyes went up to the blond-haired boy with the snooty face.

She stood, her hand slamming into his chest. “Hey! You destroyed my castle!”

The boy stared at her in shock. “No one ever touches me!”

“Until now—”

Katniss was suddenly blocked by another boy, tall and dark-skinned.

“No one touches his royal highness,” he declared, and the blond boy stuck his tongue at her.

Another boy, this one dark-haired and sharp-eyed, approached.

“Prince Peeta has decided that you will be his bride,” he stated with a scowl.

Katniss made a face, crossing her arms to show them how disgusting that sounded. “Gross.”

The so-called Prince Peeta walked over to her.

“As my bride, you can make as many sandcastles as you want,” he explained. “I’ll build a bigger sandbox than this for you!”

Something inside zinged at the thought. “Really?”

The boy shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

Katniss eyed him suspiciously. “Why would you want to marry me anyway?”

Peeta shifted in his stance, the confidence in his blue eyes suddenly wavering. “I like your eyes.”

“My eyes?”

A rise of pink colored his cheeks. “They’re soft…and pretty.”

That had been it for her.

On that warm afternoon, by the swings of District 12’s only playground, Katniss Everdeen married the so-called Prince Peeta.

“You may now kiss the bride,” Gale, the dark-haired boy, said. He looked at Peeta, a teasing smile on his face. “Go on—kiss her!”

“Close your eyes,” Peeta told her.

Katniss, wearing her paper towel veil courtesy of the park’s public bathroom, did what he said and closed her eyes.

SPLAT!

She barely registered being shoved down into the muddy puddle.

Katniss looked up at the sneering boy, feeling the rise of anger in her body.

“That’s what you get for pushing me.”

++++++

Twenty years later…

“Katniss.” She looked up from laptop to find Prim at her open doorway. Her sister held out a Fed-Ex envelope. “This just came for you.”

Without even glancing at it, Katniss tossed the envelope on her bed, going back to the open page on her screen.

“Don’t you want to open it?” Prim stepped into the room and plopped onto the bed, picking the post up to examine it. “It looks important.”

“Probably one of those things saying that I’m eligible for another credit card.” Katniss frowned, sitting back, and staring at the blinking cursor. “I’m so stuck on this blog post!”

“Is this the one about kitchen flowers?” her sister asked, and she nodded. “You got some great pictures from Madge’s shop.”

“I know but my writing inspiration is zilch,” Katniss explained. “I need to get this done if I want to post by Mother’s Day.”

“Speaking of Mother’s Day, mom is wondering if you’re bringing anyone to Sunday dinner,” Prim informed her.

“I love our mother but lately every conversation we’ve had is either about my lack of a dating life or my withering eggs,” Katniss said. “Right now, I need to focus on getting more attention on the blog. It’s just gaining momentum!” She rested back and turned to her sister. “This is important to me.”

“I know,” Prim replied. “And you are good at it. I mean, look at what you’ve done to our apartment! To this room!”

Her sister’s bright blue eyes looked around the buttercream room, beautifully decorated with white-washed furniture. The console that her television sat atop was bought at a nearby thrift shop and refurbished by her. Katniss had sanded it down before putting a whitewash over it and adding lacquer to give it a more modern look.

In fact, most of the furniture in her and Prim’s apartment was completely refurbished by her. She had always had an eye for decorating and instead of going to a four-year college, Katniss had opted to go to design school.

Creating something new from what people considered junk gave her a special kind of thrill—almost akin to being in love.

At least that’s what she thought it might feel like.

“Whoa!”

Katniss whipped over to her sister—who was holding an unfolded paper in her hands.

She stood from her seat and went to Prim. “What?”

Wordlessly, Prim handed the piece to her—it was a letter.

The letter was on marbled paper, an elegant insignia atop it, and she could see that the elegant calligraphy was done by hand:

Dear Miss Everdeen,

You are hereby summoned to the kingdom of Panem to present yourself to His Royal Highness, King Peeta.

Photo documentation has validified that you are the Queen Consort to His Royal Highness.

Attached is my business card, please contact me to arrange your travel to Panem.

Respectfully,

The Rt. Hon. Effie Trinket

Private Secretary to His Royal Highness

“This is a joke!” Katniss tossed the letter onto her desk and laughed. “Photo documentation? There is no such thing—”

The laugh fell from her lips as Prim turned the FedEx envelope upside down and a single photo fell onto her bedspread.

“There’s a business card in here, too,” Prim told her carefully.

Walking over, Katniss could see that the photo was facedown.

Trembling, she picked the print up and read the elegant cursive atop it:

‘Peeta and his new bride, Katniss Everdeen!’

Next to the caption was a happy face; it was obvious that this statement was made in jest.

Turning the photograph, a wave of nausea hit seeing the image of her seven-year-old self, a paper towel veil atop her head, joining hands with a blond boy—

Prince Peeta.

Or to be more precise, His Royal Highness King Peeta of Panem.

#Everlark Fanfiction #Everlark #Royal!Peeta #Commoner!Katniss

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diifacto · 4 years

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In honour of the recent release of The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, let me just drop some thoughts about Hunger Games.

I’ve been reading a lot of reviews lately, and one thing they all seem to have in common is that most people loved The Hunger Games itself, but lost interest after the actual “games” portion of the novels disappeared. That the complicated politics got boring and the propos were so fake and the love triangle was unsatifisying and out of place amid all this war; that Katniss acted like a puppet in Mockingjay—I’ve seen people complain about how present her PTSD is and how it’s confusing to read; about how everything she did was for show; I’ve even seen her compared to Bella Swan. And I’m here to tell you that all that is the point.

So many authors have tried to replicate what Suzanne Collins did with Hunger Games—she created an entire YA subgenre. But nothing’s gotten it right. Why? Why do so many people love The Hunger Games, but drop the sequels as “boring” and “fake”? Why do so many authors trying to replicate Hunger Games’ sensationalism go off the rails in their third installment? (Looking at you for that one, Divergent.)

To put it simply: politics.

Gonna get a bit English student/history major-ish here, but Suzanne Collins’ writing of the political climate and power struggle in Hunger Games is absolutely fantastic. In Mockingjay particularly, Collins presents a fascinating commentary on authoritarianism through contrasting President Coin with President Snow, showing the former to be—true to her name—just another side of the same coin as Panem’s dictator. If you’d like, connections can certainly be drawn to specific political parties, with Snow, of course, being your far-right fascist, and Coin your far-left communist, but Collins’ message in this commentary isn’t centered on labels like that. In a way, her handling of the issue reminds me of George Orwell’s 1984, with the Party never being specified as leftist or rightist, just totalitarian. The message is the same: whether communist, fascist, far-left, far-right, whatever you want to call yourself—totalitarianism is bad, kids. Authoritarianism is bad. Remember, the political spectrum isn’t a line, it’s a circle—and it all comes down to dictatorships and tyrannical rulers.

And that’s where everyone goes wrong, readers and authors alike. Because Suzanne Collins does what the media does: hides it under all these layers of drama, intrigue, bloodbaths, horror, love triangles, until the politics get all blurry. That’s art imitating life, right there.

Gonna drag poor Divergent along for sec, because it reminded me of The Hunger Games, in a lot of ways. Dystopian YA with some really nice commentary on society. Loved the first book; I still go back and reread it, and while lacking in certain qualities, what novel isn’t? But Roth lost that thread in the conclusion, because I feel, like so many others, she fell into Collins’ trap about what makes Hunger Games so good. The drama. The love triangle. The horror. The bloody, shocking plot twist. Not politics.

Let’s unpack the rest of it, here, too:

The love triangle is supposed to feel fake and out of place, because it is. (I mean, I’d argue there isn’t even a real love triangle, but that’s a whole other debate I’ll bring up again sometime.) It’s a fabrication used by those in power throughout the novel to distract from the Capitol’s crimes, and the fact real people fixate on it in Hunger Games to this is extent means Collins’ commentary on the issue is entirely correct. And similarly, this sort of media war District 13 and the Capital have in Mockingjay, with Katniss doing propos and Peeta being tortured into interviews—yes, it is fake. It’s propaganda; that’s the whole point.

As for Katniss acting like a puppet, I’d argue that as illustrated by a notable plot twist near the end of the novel (and numerous events throughout, on that note), Katniss was acting and thinking independently. I’d also take care to point out that Katniss is seventeen years old and deeply traumatized. One of the things I love about YA are the young, teenaged protagonists doing incredible things, and living through impossible horrors—but I’ll be the first to admit sometimes it gets unrealistic. Collins takes a more realistic approach. Katniss has PTSD; Collins writes this. Katniss has been used as a puppet by the rebellion so long, can she even consider not acting as their figurehead; Collins discusses this. Katniss is a seventeen-year-old whose main concern is protecting the people she loves, one of whom is Peeta; Collins writes her actions to reflect this. Just because Katniss doesn’t go full-badass-archer, front-lines-in-the-war-effort like we saw in the actual Games of the first two installments—and have seen many protagonists do in other series—doesn’t mean she’s not fighting back and staying true to herself the whole time.

Again, it’s a different kind of fight, politics.

So my point is, Hunger Games is driven by politics. Suzanne Collins presents some very intelligent points on politics, to a YA audience. And, ten years after she published Mockingjay, she’s back with a novel on the early life and rise of a dictator. So what, pray tell, might she be trying to say?

#the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #suzanne collins #hunger games #book review #book reccomendation #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #politics #totalitarianism #dictatorship #fascisim #communism #far left #far right #booklr #new release

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everlarkficexchange · 3 years

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On the Other Side of the Fence

Prompt 13: Katniss is “just one of the guys” and the only girl in school who’s never been asked for a date by any of these guys. One day she’s “discovered” by a modeling agency and whisked to the Capital. She returns 3-months later with a new look, new found confidence, and cash. How will Peeta deal with the new Katniss and all the attention she gets from everyone? [submitted by @567inpanem]

Author: @jhsgf82

Rated: T

Word Count: 5,713

Author Note: In-Panem AU, no games. The class distinctions between Seam and Merchant are still there but aren’t quite as prominent, so Seam and Merchant sometimes hang out together; although, some folks do still have prejudices. Also, Mr. Everdeen is alive! So, this became more about the childhood love story between Katniss and Peeta than the modeling, at least this part, but I hope you still enjoy my take on this prompt. This will be a Part 1 of 2, and it will be posted on A03 under my account as well as on the EFE A03 collection page. Edit by @mrspeetamellark. Thank you, thank you! I love the fan casts for older K and P!

P.S. I’ve been listening to Ruelle’s “I Get to Love You” quite a bit while writing this, and it’s giving me major Everlark feels, particularly for this story, so let’s call it the theme song for this fic.

Part I

Peeta’s POV “Wait up, Katniss!” Peeta chased after Katniss as fast as his skinny twelve-year-old legs could carry him.

But Katniss Everdeen was like a bird, free-spirited and not to be caged, and when she set her mind to something, more than likely, she was going to do it.

Peeta loved that about her.

Today, Katniss had gotten it into her pretty head to climb to the top of the apple tree in his backyard. When she’d found out his mother wouldn’t be home, she’d thought it’d be the best time.

They played in secret, for Peeta’s mother had clearly expressed her dislike and distrust of Seam kids, plenty of times. Merchant Circle kids and Seam kids didn’t usually interact, but Peeta had no problem with those from the Seam, and he especially loved being around Katniss. He didn’t see the big deal, honestly. So what if they lived on the outskirts of town? So what if they didn’t have as much money‒Peeta was used to eating stale bread and leftovers, anyway. Not to mention, Katniss and her father’s squirrels had made many a dinner for his family. He wondered if his mother knew where they came from, for it was always his father or him who did the trading.

Peeta didn’t get to see Katniss as often as he would like‒he was almost always stuck at the bakery, and rarely unsupervised‒but times with her were his favorite times. Sometimes they were alone, which he preferred, but other times, they hung out with her small group, consisting of Thom, Gale, and occasionally, her sister, Primrose.

As if his life (or hers) depended on it, Peeta raced to catch up to Katniss. She was already three or four branches up when he made it to the tree. Unfortunately, he was running so fast that he didn’t stop quick enough, and…Thwap! He smacked his head against a low branch.

“Peeta!” gasped Katniss from her perch. “You okay?!”

“Fine!” he called up. He rubbed his forehead, feeling like a complete idiot. It smarted a bit, but his pride was far more wounded.

As if preparing her, Peeta shouted, “I’m coming up!” And then he reached out for the lowest, sturdiest-looking branch he could find. He wasn’t quite sure how this would work. He’d never climbed a tree before, and it looked tough. Katniss was small and nimble, but he was bulkier. He wasn’t completely uncoordinated, but he was much better at lifting things than doing anything requiring agility or balance. Even so, he had to try. And so, he found his footing and pushed himself up.

Turned out, his upper body strength (from lifting sacks of flour) came in handy in getting him up the tree. But there were two problems: One, his footing. And two, the relatively young apple tree wasn’t quite liking his size, and some of the thinner branches were bending under his weight.

“You’re almost there, Peeta,” urged Katniss, and all he could see was her encouraging smile. He reached out to take her hand for a boost but felt his shoe slipping against the bark. And then, his body weight and that thing called gravity were pulling him downward…

“Peeta!” shrieked Katniss as she reached out desperately for his hand.

But in those few seconds, Peeta knew he couldn’t grab hold. Katniss may be strong for her size, but she was tiny, definitely not strong enough to hold him up. If he did grasp her hand, he would surely drag her down with him, and he would never put her in danger.

Peeta dropped to the ground, left foot first, a sharp, white-hot pain shooting up his leg on impact. He groaned and fell flat on his back, his head smacking hard against the ground.

Katniss was down the tree in a heartbeat, kneeling beside him. A bright light silhouetted her; she looked like an angel. Was he dead? Or dying maybe? If so, hers was the last face he wanted to see…

“Peeta! Peeta! Peeta, are you okay?” cried Katniss. She was touching his shoulder and chest only as if she was afraid to go near his leg.

He murmured something and reached out to try and touch her, but his head was spinning and his vision was blurring.

Amidst the excruciating pain and confusion, he heard her muttering, “Oh no, oh no, what do I do?!” And then, she started to cry.

No, no, no. This was no good, at all. He couldn’t deal with Katniss crying. He probably had a broken leg; he didn’t need a broken heart, also.

“Don’t…” He attempted to reach for her again, and this time, he felt her take his hand in both of hers and rest it against her face, her tears wetting it. There was a persistent ringing in his ears, and then he passed out.

While he was unconscious, Peeta dreamed of Katniss‒of the first time they met. They were five years old.

Katniss’s father brought her by the bakery to trade, and while their dads were talking, he played with her. At first, she was shy, only peering out at him from behind her father’s legs, but he managed to convince her to come out.

She wore a red plaid dress, and her hair was in two braids. He’d seen her earlier that day in school‒his father had pointed her out to him and told him how he’d wanted to marry her mother but she’d run off with a coal miner (this coal miner, with the singing voice that made bird’s stop to listen)‒and he’d heard her sing. Her voice was every bit as lovely as they said her father’s was.

Once he got her to come out, they talked a little and ended up chasing one another around the bakery. Of course, his mother wasn’t home that day.

In retrospect, Peeta had been a goner for Katniss from the start, completely mesmerized by her singing voice and her beautiful gray eyes, which he got a closer look at in the bakery. Then there was her smile, which she didn’t give freely, but when she did, it was so worth the wait. She didn’t talk much, but he’d been able to get her to laugh that day in the bakery, and the noise, much like her singing, was music to his ears. Oh, and her braids‒he’d always been really fascinated by her braids.

Before she left the bakery, Peeta couldn’t help leaning forward and smacking his lips against Katniss’s, just to see what it would be like. He’d seen people kiss before, even his parents, though not often. It was weird when his mom and dad did it, but he liked it better than when they yelled at each other.

To his surprise, kissing Katniss wasn’t bad or weird. He liked it. And he wanted to try it again, someday.

After the kiss, Katniss’s cheeks were reddened, and she turned away from him, dashing back behind her father. He was so afraid he’d done the wrong thing and that she’d hate him forever, but when they went to leave, she smiled and waved at him.

Peeta came to with a start, jerking around and whimpering as he clutched at his throbbing leg. He realized he was in his bed, though he didn’t know how he’d gotten there. Also, he wasn’t alone‒Mrs. Everdeen was at his side.

“Peeta, honey, lie still. I have to set your leg,” Katniss’s mother spoke in her soft, doctor-like voice. She was a healer. He assumed Katniss must have gotten a couple of boys or a man, maybe her dad or his, to carry him to his room after his fall.

But where was Katniss? And was his dad here?

Before he could look around for them, Mrs. Everdeen told him she was going to give him some medicine to take away his pain. She injected him with something, morphling, he heard her say, and instantly, he felt his entire body relaxing. He looked over, then, to see Katniss entering his room and approaching his bedside, followed by her father. Her arms were folded, and her forehead was all scrunched up like how it got when she was really worried. Her eyes were puffy, too, and her cheeks were stained with tears; she’d definitely been crying.

Peeta raised his head and tried to smile and say something reassuring. “Kat…it’s…o-” But his words trailed off as a strange, dizzy feeling overtook him, and his head dropped back onto his pillow. Katniss came over and took a seat next to him, slipping her small hand into his.

This is nice, he thought.

But the euphoric feeling was quickly broken by his mother’s loud voice as she barged into his room. Uh oh.

His mother discovering the Everdeens in their home was bad news. She basically hated all the rest of them as much or more than Katniss, especially Katniss’s mother. Maybe it was because his dad used to love her?

“What’s this?! What have you done, you stupid creature?!” his mother screeched at Katniss.

Peeta’s eyes shot to his best friend who immediately dropped his hand. He saw the look on her face; her cheeks had gone reddish, and her eyes were filling with tears, which she was clearly fighting back. She looked scared, upset, and angry.

Just another reason for him to hate his mother.

“Katni…” Peeta tried to say her name, to comfort her, but his words caught in his scratchy throat.

He tried again, but he was cut off.

“Listen here,” Mr. Everdeen’s voice boomed, loud and clear, “you will not speak of my daughter that way! I won’t allow it. My wife has been kind enough to help your son, so show some respect to my family.”

That should shut his mother up, Peeta imagined. Mr. Everdeen might be a friendly, quiet man most of the time, but he could be intimidating. So, Peeta didn’t expect his mother would say another word.

Mr. Everdeen placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Honey, fix up Peeta, then we’ll be on our way,” he said softly.

Peeta’s mother was silent after that; in fact, he thought she might have left the room. But he was in and out of consciousness, and next thing he knew, it was dark, and he was waking up in his bed with only his father beside him.

Groggily, Peeta asked, “Where’s Katniss?”

“She’s at her house, son,” his father replied, tucking his covers nearly up to his chin. “You should get some rest.” And with that, he was left alone in the darkness.

Peeta recalled his brothers stopping in briefly, and then his mother. He imagined she only cared about him being injured because it might hinder his work at the bakery. He was sure she’d still give him plenty to do, though. What did she care if he was in pain doing it?

His mother was mainly condescending, railing on him for being so stupid, which he expected and accepted, but what really made his blood boil was when she set in on Katniss.

“That’s why you don’t play with Seam children,” she chided, casting him a dark look. “They’re wild heathens with no regard for rules or safety.”

They’re kids, Mother‒just like me. They just want to play and have fun. They don’t want anyone to get hurt.

What his mother said next lanced his heart. “I forbid you to see that girl anymore.”

Peeta squeezed his fists beneath the covers. She really cared nothing for him, did she? Of course, if his mother didn’t care that he had a broken leg, why would she care if forbidding him from seeing Katniss ripped his heart out?

But it didn’t matter. There was no way he was going to stop seeing Katniss; nothing his mother, or anyone, could say or do would ever stop him.

Katniss snuck into his room later that night. She must have climbed the tree next to his window and crawled through. She was next to his bed rousing him before he even realized what was happening.

At her touch, Peeta woke. “Katniss, what are you doing here?” he hissed, trying to sit up.

She held out her hand as if to stop him. “I brought these for you, from my mother,” said she, handing him a small package. “Medicine for the pain and a salve for the inflammation. Instructions are inside.”

“Thanks.”

It sounded like the delivery came from her mother, and he didn’t think Katniss would have taken the items on her own without permission‒mainly because she probably wouldn’t have known what to take or what to do‒but he doubted she had permission to be here this late. He glanced at the clock. It was nearly 11 PM.

“Are you okay?” she asked, fidgeting with her fingers.

“Yes.”

“Does it hurt?”

“A little.”

“I’m so sorry.” He could see her eyes glistening in the moonlight. Was she going to cry again?

“It’s not your fault, and hey, it probably earned me some time off at the bakery. So, thanks.”

Most likely, he wouldn’t get any time off, though. Or, if he did, it wouldn’t be much. His mother would probably have him back to work as soon as he could move, but Katniss didn’t need to know that. He tapped her playfully on the nose, and she laughed a little.

“Katniss, thanks for bringing the medicine, but you better go. I don’t want you to get in trouble.” Peeta sighed. He didn’t actually want to send her away; he wanted her to stay with him, forever.

Rather than listening to him, though, she did the exact opposite‒she pulled back the covers and climbed into bed with him.

Wow. Were wishes being fulfilled tonight?

Okay, so, Peeta had just discovered the absolute best medicine for any of his ailments‒having Katniss Everdeen in his arms.

“Am I hurting your leg?” she asked as she tentatively snuggled in closer.

“Not a bit.” He smiled. “That’s my good leg.”

“You sure? I could move.”

“Don’t you dare move,” he said, wrapping his arms completely around her and holding her in place. He kissed the top of her head. For a moment, he wondered if he shouldn’t have done that. They had only shared that one kiss when they were 5, and it had never been brought up since. She probably didn’t think anything about kissing him, anyway.

“Okay, good,” she said, shutting her eyes and resting her head and a hand on his chest.

He looked down at her. She looked so peaceful and seemed close to falling asleep, but he shouldn’t let that happen. If his mother found Katniss here in the morning, in his bed, they were both toast!

But it was too nice having her here, and he wanted to enjoy it for a little while longer. He took the chance to play with her braid, like he’d always wanted to, and she let him. It had just become his new favorite thing to do. Katniss always wore her hair this way, except for a couple of times when she had it down, and Peeta loved her braid. But he was also kind of curious to run his fingers through her hair while it was down. He imagined it would be so soft and silky.

“Peeta,” he heard her murmur just when he thought she was asleep.

“Yeah?”

“Your mother…she hates me.”

“No.”

“Don’t lie, Peeta.”

“Okay, maybe she does. But, remember, she’s not too fond of me, either.”

Peeta felt Katniss shake her head against him, and he gave a small chuckle. It was so sad, it was funny, in a way.

He looked down into her face; she wore a sad expression. “Heyy,” he soothed, stroking her back lightly. “Hey, Katniss, listen. I don’t care. Don’t give another thought to what my mother said, because it’s not true. Nothing she says means anything to me or matters, at all. You’re wonderful and amazing, and it wasn’t your fault I got hurt, and nothing anyone says or does will ever change the way I fee-think about you.”

How did he feel about her? He didn’t quite know the exact word for it, but whatever it was, it was pretty strong. Like right now, he could feel his heart beating wildly like it was trying to escape his chest. She always made him feel this way, as if his heart might run away or explode into tiny pieces.

Katniss softly sighed. “Okay, Peeta. If you don’t care, I don’t care, either.”

“Good.” He stroked her hair once, twice, three times.

They remained curled up together until just before dawn, and then Katniss slipped away. Right away, he felt the loss. Despite the discomfort in his leg and the fact that he barely slept, for he was either watching Katniss or the clock (in fear they might sleep too long and be discovered), Peeta had never known such a peaceful, wonderful night.

It took nearly two months for the leg to heal, and it did earn him some time off bakery duty, but as expected, his mother had him back to work soon, doing what he could while hobbling around on crutches.

On the bright side, Katniss visited him almost every night, sneaking into his room and into his bed, saying she was checking to make sure he was okay. Peeta got used to having her there, and he enjoyed it, yet he was surprised they were never caught.

Once he was healed, much to Peeta’s disappointment, Katniss stopped coming by; although, it might have had something to do with him suggesting she should stop. He hadn’t wanted her to stop, and he hoped it hadn’t hurt her feelings; he was simply worried they’d be caught and his mother would say more terrible things to her. He didn’t care if she said terrible things to him, but he never wanted Katniss to be called a name again or be made to feel bad, by anyone.

After that, Peeta had to be sneakier about seeing Katniss, and he did see her less. Seemed like, after he healed, his mother gave him extra work at the bakery, in theory, to make up for the time he’d missed. But no matter how much work she gave him or how often she warned him against having anything to do with the ‘little dirtbags’ (one of the kinder nicknames she attributed to the Seam children), nothing‒not even President Snow, himself‒could keep him from Katniss.

He did worry, though, about his mother trying to cause harm to Katniss and her family. She was surely spreading the incident around, making it sound like it was Katniss’s fault‒as if she’d bullied him up that tree then pushed him out or something. She was probably trying to gain sympathy from the townsfolk and hurt the Everdeens’ business, but Peeta assumed everyone would continue to buy Katniss and her father’s game. It was too good. And if not, they would be fine because her dad had his job in the mines.

Even so, Peeta sometimes hated the way things were. Sometimes, he even considered running away from home, off to the Seam or even beyond the fence and into the woods, with Katniss. On the other side of the fence, they could be together everyday and live happily without anyone’s interference.

It was a nice dream.

—–

The next summer, Katniss announced to Peeta that she was going to teach him to swim, and she showed him her father’s lake for the very first time.

“You ready?” she asked excitedly. She was dressed in a t-shirt and shorts, he in just shorts.

He stared deep into her eyes, then nodded. “Yes.”

They waded out further into the lake until it was up past his shoulders and came to her chin. She went behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, and forget drowning, Peeta thought he would die right then and there, over this.

See, he’d been having…different sorts of feelings about Katniss lately, in the last couple of months… He cared so much for her, as always, but he’d also been thinking more and more about things like: kissing her, touching her, and feeling her pressed against him. He wished she’d sneak into his bed again, but he was also kind of afraid he wouldn’t keep his hands to himself if she did. He knew he would never hurt or mistreat Katniss, but sometimes, it was tough to think straight around her, and sometimes his body seemed to have a mind of its own.

It was frustrating.

Right now, Katniss was hugging him, and it felt nice. No, not hugging–supporting him in the water. But it felt like a hug, and he didn’t get them often, his father being so busy, and his mother, well, not being the hugging type.

Katniss’s hands briefly ran up his stomach, to his chest, and back down. It made Peeta shiver, and his breath hitched. And he had to wonder, did she get the kind of feelings he did, too?

“You okay?” she asked. He could feel her bangs brushing his bare back, tickling his skin a little, but in a way he really liked.

He tried to answer coolly, but it came out as a choked “Y-yes.”

“Okay.” Katniss shifted a little, instructing him to dunk his head and practice holding his breath. “I’ll hold onto you.”

“You won’t let go?” he asked. More so, he wanted the reassurance of having her there, because she emboldened him and made him feel safe, even if she was much smaller than him.

“Never, Peeta,” she assured. He smiled and rested his hands atop hers.

“Okay, I’m ready.” And with that, he dipped his head under the water.

Katniss was a good teacher, even if he was kind of a bumbling idiot when it came to the water. He’d never survive in D4. Not like he’d ever have any reason to go there. But they had fun, swimming around and splashing one another. Peeta even picked her up and tossed her in a couple of times, and she came right back at him, latching onto his shoulders and dunking him or wrapping her legs around his waist and climbing his back.

Peeta got better at staying underwater, and he took to swimming around her and tickling her beneath the waves‒in innocent places, of course, like her feet or her sides. One time, though, the water caused her shirt to billow up and he accidentally slid his hand across the bare skin of her stomach. It was so flat and smooth; it felt nice. For a split second, his hand took over before his mind could have any say in the manner, and he squeezed her side a little. Katniss sucked in a sharp breath and reared back. And instantly, she was throwing out her arms and kicking her legs to put some distance between them.

“Katniss, I’m sorry! Di-did I hurt you?”

She shook her head rapidly, but she could barely look at him.

Again, Peeta apologized while slowly moving toward her.

“It’s okay.” She swallowed. “I’m just…ticklish there.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Things were a little weird after that, and Katniss kind of kept her distance from him, despite Peeta apologizing quite a few more times. She finally told him to just forget about it.

But Peeta didn’t want to forget. He wished he could touch her anytime he felt like it, and that she would want that, too.

After their swimming lesson at the lake, Peeta started having dreams about Katniss, embarrassing ones. More embarrassing, still, was the way his body reacted to the dreams, even in his sleep. It was a bit upsetting, and she would be mortified if she knew. But he couldn’t seem to help himself. And it occurred almost every night. Peeta considered talking to his father about it, but that would be weird, and talking to his older brothers would be even weirder. But they were actually helpful in a way. Hearing them talk, he came to understand that it was normal to feel what he was feeling.

Those feelings continued‒oh, did they continue!‒and Peeta started to notice other girls, too, but none of them left any kind of lasting impression on him as Katniss did.

Was it normal for a boy to be so obsessed with a single girl his entire life?

—–

Eventually, Peeta decided he needed a distraction from Katniss, and so, he joined the wrestling team at 15. His older brother wrestled, and he’d always thought that was pretty neat.

Turned out, he was really good at it, even came in second in the school, only to his brother.

The wrestling built up Peeta’s body and his popularity. Although he’d always been stronger than most boys his age, due to working in the bakery, he developed, growing broader and stronger but remaining lean in the waist. He made more friends, and girls were starting to pay attention to him. Save for one‒the girl he’d noticed all along. Unfortunately, Katniss still treated him like her pal, and even worse, she was spending less time with him and more time with Gale Hawthorne…

Peeta didn’t like it.

But he supposed he couldn’t blame her; between wrestling and the bakery, he’d had next to no time for her.

Or, maybe Katniss was finally figuring out that he didn’t belong in her world. Not because she was a Seam girl and he was from town, but because, he didn’t seem to fit in with her and her friends. For instance, he wasn’t good at the same kinds of things as they were. It didn’t matter to Peeta, but maybe it mattered to her.

Regardless, if she would allow it, he would remain by her side, for always. Whether they were doing something he was good at or not, whether they were going someplace dangerous or unpleasant, no matter what, wherever she went, he wanted to go, too.

But over the next year, things began to shift between them. Peeta’s popularity in school only seemed to push Katniss away, and whenever he tried to remedy the situation, she either ignored him or flat-out made up an excuse. It was a crushing blow each time she did.

One day, a girl asked Peeta to go to the slag heap with her. He knew what that meant, of course, and he actually considered it, if only to give himself the chance to feel something for someone other than Katniss. But in the end, he just couldn’t go through with it, and he told her no. She was pretty, but if her name wasn’t Katniss Everdeen, then Peeta Mellark simply wasn’t interested.

That was the day it hit him‒he loved Katniss Everdeen. No, not just loved her; he was in love with her.

Maybe he should tell her how he felt.

But how could he? She would never reciprocate‒she didn’t think of him that way‒and he didn’t think he could take the rejection. Best to leave things the way they were because having Katniss as his friend was much better than not having her at all…

—–

Katniss’s POV (Age 16)

Several days later…

“So, where’ve you been lately, Peeta?” asked Gale. “Been wondering where the other half of Peetnip’s been.”

“Actually, we prefer Everlark,” said Peeta with a grin.

Katniss hugged her legs to her chest, blushing over the combining of hers and Peeta’s names, even though she knew it didn’t mean anything. Gale was just fooling around, and Peeta was playing along.

“Yeah, so what gives?” barked Gale. “You too good to hang out with us all of a sudden?”

“No, not at all, I-” Peeta glanced over at her. “I’ve just been really busy with wrestling.”

And his new friends…

And that girl…

Katniss was sure she wasn’t coming close to hiding the disdain on her face. Of course, she’d heard about that pretty girl asking Peeta to the slag heap. And it had hurt way more than it should have; she’d actually felt like a part of her died inside that day.

Katniss wasn’t sure why, but lately, she’d been thinking about Peeta a lot. About old times. When he fell out of the tree; when they slept in the same bed; that summer at the lake…

How had things changed so much between them, and somehow, not at all? Part of Katniss wanted so badly for things to always stay the same, but another part of her kind of wished that things could be…different between Peeta and her.

She shook off her thoughts and turned her attention back on Gale.

He was looking as skeptical as her over Peeta’s excuse. Not for the same reason, probably. It was because Peeta was a merchant’s son. And that meant Gale was always paranoid that Peeta was only pretending to be their friend for some ulterior motive not yet revealed, or that he’d ditch them all at the first opportunity. Honestly, Katniss was surprised Gale had even accepted Peeta into their circle in the first place. But, as with her (and everyone), it had taken him some time.

“Seriously, man, it takes up almost all of my free time. And then there’s my…” Peeta stopped short.

“Your mother,” Gale finished for him.

“Yeah.” Peeta looked to Katniss then, probably because he knew it was a sore subject for her. Katniss glanced away.

Peeta’s mother. As much as Katniss disliked her, Peeta still seemed to care about what she thought, even if he said he didn’t.

Not that she could blame him. Angering his mother was dangerous, and she wanted him to be safe. Simply associating with her, as Peeta was doing now, could earn him a beating. And Katniss felt constant guilt over it. He shouldn’t be here now; she should tell him to stop coming, once and for all. But she just…

“Katniss, who’s that man leering at you?” Gale’s voice broke Katniss’s train of thought.

“Leering?” She blinked several times in succession. No guys ‘leered’ at her. Guys barely even knew she existed, aside from her small group‒and they didn’t exactly think of her as a ‘girl.’ She was just one of the guys; she’d never even been asked on a date. Not that she’d want to go on one…except maybe with…

Shaking off the ridiculous notion, Katniss shielded her eyes from the sun and looked over. Gale was right; the man was actually staring at her. He was an older man, wearing dark, fancy clothing and gold eyeshadow. He definitely wasn’t from around here.

“I don’t know.” Katniss shrugged. “Never seen him before in my life. And he’s not leering.”

“Nah, I think he is,” Gale smirked. “He’s looking pretty hard at you, Catnip.”

Katniss’s cheeks flushed. It felt so strange and uncomfortable having a man, any man, look at her that way as if he was evaluating her…

“Well, all I know is, he can’t be from District 12,” remarked Gale. “Look at those fancy clothes.”

Her old hunting partner had read her mind, and instinctively, Katniss looked back at Peeta for his take on the matter. Peeta didn’t even seem to notice her; he was focused on the man, and he seemed none too happy about the situation.

The man with the gold eyeshadow came over then, and he introduced himself to Katniss. His name was Cinna, and he was from the Capitol.

The Capitol. What could a man from the Capitol possibly want with her?

“I’m sorry to stare, but let me explain,” said Cinna. “I’m a stylist in the Capitol, and I’ve been searching for the perfect girl to model a new line of clothing I’m designing.”

Yeah? And what does that have to do with me?

He was going to have to spell this one out for her.

“I think you’re it.” At his words, Katniss’s eyes widened. She glanced back at her group, the entire lot seeming as thunderstruck as her. “Miss…?” He extended his hand.

“Katniss Everdeen.” She accepted his hand and shook it.

“Katniss, what a lovely name. May I call you Katniss?”

Numbly, she nodded.

“Well, Katniss, you’re just what I’ve been looking for. That skin, those eyes…I could do wonders with your unique look.”

Katniss blinked several times, opening her mouth and closing it like a fish out of water.

“No offense,” she finally managed to say, “but I think you have the wrong girl. As you can see,” she motioned in presentation of her dirty clothing and disheveled hair, “I’m no model.”

Cinna grinned. “Not yet, you aren’t, but that’s where I come in.”

Katniss couldn’t understand it. What was this man thinking? People from the Capitol were known for their exotic tastes, but this was a bit much. So what if he thought she had nice skin and eyes? Couldn’t he find plenty of other girls with far better skin (that wasn’t caked in dirt and the faintest hint of coal dust) and with much more alluring eyes. A unique look? Well, the Capitol was full of people like that, wasn’t it?

“There must be better choices than me in the Capitol,” she spoke her thoughts aloud.

“Yes, well, I want a girl who’s real,” explained Cinna. “An ordinary girl. One of the people. From the districts, not some fashion icon from the Capitol. I’ve worked with plenty of those, and they’ve left me…wanting.”

Katniss stared blankly at the man before her.

“Just think about, Katniss,” he said, taking her hand and patting it gently. “It would only be for about three months, and it would pay a lot of money.”

Money? Her eyes lit up at the magic word. Now that the mine was temporarily shut down after that accident, her family could certainly use the money, but a model?! She couldn’t be a model. And the thought of leaving behind her family and Peeta…well, she didn’t like it one bit.

Katniss glanced back at her blue-eyed boy with the bread, who seemed perturbed and maybe a little sad. Their eyes met, and pleadingly, she stared into his, hoping for a silent answer. What do I do?

#jhsgf82 #567inpanem #prompt 13 #Springtime edition 2021 #submission

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theartofdreaming1 · 3 years

Photo

Katniss, Peeta, and Haymitch are slowly becoming a proper team! No more secrets! (for the most part)

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and (many) random thoughts on chapters 4-6 are below the cut.

heart

Losing that comfort of sleeping in each other’s arms after the Victory Tour must have been hard for Katniss and Peeta! Up until Katniss hurts her ankle, they probably didn’t really do much about it, just trying to make it through on their own... After she hurt her ankle and Peeta’s spending more time over at her place, I can easily imagine him staying over, at least until she’s fallen asleep, which might help a little... Since they are living only three houses apart from each other, I like to imagine that they can see each other’s bedroom windows from their bedroom (how else would Katniss know that Peeta sleeps with the windows open? I can’t really imagine that they would be able to open the windows of the train they were on - y’know, for “safety reasons” (i.e. making sure nobody can escape)); maybe they’d both light a candle and put it by their window, as a signal they are going to sleep... It’s not the same, but it helps a little

mind

I mean, aside from the systemic rigging of the reaping system (i.e. poorer people generally having more entries, so they can have some food), I can easily imagine there being a manipulation of the “odds” when someone becomes too vocal or troublesome for the local authorities, such as someone trying to unionize a district’s workforce, for example

soul

In the districts, their impact has to be big - their win alone was a huge defiance of the Games as they used to be... sticking together and sticking up for each other ultimately led to them defeating the Capitol’s rules! In-between the Games and the Victory Tour I don’t think there was much noteworthy going on (although maybe the fact that, so far, none of the new victors’ loved ones had been hurt - Prim, Mrs. E., but also Gale and his family would be visible during the celebrations, I’m sure, same probably goes for the Mellark’s - might tell the people in the district that Snow and his cronies were aware of the attention any assassination attempt would gather and that this, in turn, might actually could become the last straw that would spark a revolution. In a way, that was proof that the people on top were at least a little afraid of what the people in the districts would do...) And then, especially during the visit of D11, with Katniss expressing her thanks and Peeta reaching out to share their winnings with the people from D11, another district than their own - it must have provided a lot of inspiration, I’m sure.

As for the Capitolites, maybe some of them would notice for once how unhappy/riled up the people in some of the districts were... or at least stop to think about how this time, a show of love and companionship actually provided more “entertainment” and intrigue than the brutal gore and bloodshed from previous Games (also, longer lasting - there is actually much more “story” to be had from the star-crossed lovers from D12 than from any individual winner of previous Games, if you think about it... Their “love story” is still on-going, with an upcoming wedding and the promise of a family... it’s still creepy and voyeuristic as hell, though)

Chapter 4

Everything he [Haymitch] said was true about the Capitol’s expectations, my future with Peeta, even his last comment. Of course, I could do a lot worse than Peeta. That isn’t really the point, though, is it? One of the few freedoms we have in District 12 is the right to marry who we want or not marry at all. And now even that has been taken away from me. - God, this sucks so much! As Katniss rightly points out, her misery isn’t about Peeta at all - it’s about her (and also his, just pointing that out) agency being taken away! She’s being stripped even of that little sliver of agency that inhabitants of D12 usually have (choice of whom to marry, or whether to marry at all)

I wonder if President Snow will insist we have children. - Eugh, just the idea of Snow being the one to have the last word on that subject... 🤢 The invasion of privacy here... - The only person who should get to decide whether Katniss should have children or not is Katniss herself! Period!

My mind searches frantically for a way out. I can’t let President Snow condemn me to this. Even if it means taking my own life. Before that, though, I’d try to run away. - Boy, Katniss is even contemplating taking her own life, rather than to submit to the life the Capitol wants to force on her; it’s not her first choice (she’d rather run away), but it shows the desperation she’s feeling

Could I even manage to take everyone I love with me, start a new life deep in the wild? Highly unlikely but not impossible. - Later we will see that Peeta and Haymitch also belong into the category of “people Katniss loves” 😊(as well as her family, Gale, and his fam, of course)

“And Peeta’s team is probably still asleep.” “Doesn’t he need prepping?” I ask. “Not the way you do,” Effie replies. What does this mean? It means I get to spend the morning having the hair ripped off my body while Peeta sleeps in. I hadn’t thought about it much, but in the arena at least some of the boys got to keep their body hair whereas none of the girls did. - Gotta love that everlasting sexism that, even far into the future, still won’t allow women to have frickin’ body hair (y’know, like most humans do 🙄)

I can remember Peeta’s now, as I bathed him by the stream. Very blond in the sunlight, once the mud and blood had been washed away. Only his face remained completely smooth. Not one of the boys grew a beard, and many were old enough to. I wonder what they did to them. - Katniss seems to have committed every single detail about Peeta to her memory, including how his body hair looked when she cleaned him in the last Games... okay 👀😏 On a more somber note, what is it that the Capitol is doing to these poor kids?! The boys couldn’t grow beards and - I’m assuming - the girls wouldn’t get their periods while in the arena (since the Games can last for weeks, it would be a huge disadvantage if any of the girls also had to content with cramps + periods - aside from worrying about getting murdered, I mean); it’s such a violation of one’s autonomy over one’s own body, yikes

Flavius tilts up my chin and sighs. “It’s a shame Cinna said no alterations on you.” “Yes, we could really make you something special,” says Octavia. “When she’s older,” says Venia almost grimly. “Then he’ll have to let us.” - Eeek, no thanks!😦 And frankly, it really shouldn’t be Cinna’s call to make but, y’know, Katniss’s!!! I don’t know, I get real panick-y just reading this exchange (I have never even gotten my ears pierced - my mom wouldn’t let them be pierced until I could make my own decision on that subject matter and as someone with skin issues and bad experiences with needles, I really don’t feel the need to have any unnecessary metal inserted into my body, so... I’m good)

His [Peeta’s] apology takes me by surprise. It’s true that Peeta froze me out after I confessed that my love for him during the Game was something of an act. But I don’t hold it against him. [...] “I’m sorry, too,” I say. [...] “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. You were keeping us alive.” - That apology of Peeta’s... *chef’s kiss*; it was totally understandable that Peeta was upset and needed some time apart from Katniss after her confession, which had caught him completely by surprise, not even Katniss blames him for that... But his apology shows that he really made use of their time apart to work out his emotions and to reflect on both their situations - that’s some emotional maturity to be envious of! Plus, his apology is a good move to get their communication channel opened up again

It would be nice if he’d come to me with this earlier, before I knew that President Snow had other plans and just being friends was not an option for us anymore. But either way, I’m glad we’re speaking again. - Come on, Katniss, cut this boy some slack! He can’t read minds - how is he supposed to know about these things if you don’t tell him anything? It’s nice that you’re glad that you guys are on speaking terms again, but communication isn’t a one-way street, y’know?

I remember the tiger lily cookie and, now that Peeta is talking to me again, it’s all I can do not to recount the whole story about President Snow. But I know Haymitch wouldn’t want me to. I’d better stick to small talk. - Katniss really should have listened to her instincts here - Haymitch might have a better idea of how the Games/Capitol works, but he knows little about teamwork, which is an important factor in their specific (and unprecedented!) situation; I’m not blaming Katniss for relying on her mentor here, but this entire approach is going to crash and burn in the next chapter

It’s good to feel his fingers entwined with mine again, not for show but in actual friendship. We walk back to the train hand in hand. - Not to say that you can’t have friendships where you frequently hold hands - you totally can - but it is noteworthy that I don’t think I can recall Katniss holding hands with any of her other friends... (somehow, I can’t really picture Katniss holding hands with Gale casually like that... nor with Madge or Finnick later on)

At the door, I remember, “I’ve got to apologize to Effie first.” “Don’t be afraid to lay it on thick,” Peeta tells me.- There is something about this exchange that speaks to me... maybe because it reads like some sort of an inside joke between them? Or because it shows that, despite being on good terms with Effie, Peeta’s totally aware of how high-maintenance/over the top Effie is... I dunno ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Peeta has painted the Games. Some you wouldn’t get right away, if you hadn’t been with him in the arena yourself. Water dripping through the cracks in our cave. The dry pond bed. [...] Others any viewer would recognize. The golden horn called the Cornucopia. [...] And me. I am everywhere. [...] “What do you think?” he asks. “I hate them,” I say. I can almost smell the blood, the dirt, the unnatural breath of the mutt. - These are the pieces Peeta meant to exhibit in the Capitol, right? I wonder if he hoped that these paintings of his impressions/memories of the Games might actually connect with some Capitolites and might even move them to feel some empathy for the Tributes? Maybe he hoped that they would be more receptive for that kind of thing if he packaged it in art?

“All I do is go around trying to forget the arena and you’ve brought it back to life. How do you remember these things so exactly?” “I see them every night,” he says. [...] “Me too. Does it help? To paint them out?” “I don’t know. I think I’m a little less afraid of going to sleep at night, or I tell myself I am,” he says. “But they haven’t gone anywhere.” - I do wonder, whether and how painting out these moments could have therapeutic value for Peeta - on the one hand, the act of painting out specific intrusions/flashbacks might be helpful because he’d end up focusing on the more technical side of painting, y’know? Focussing on mixing the right shade of a certain color might help create some emotional distance from the moment itself... also, since painting usually takes some time, Peeta would actually spend a considerable amount of time facing these moments head on, rather than trying to avoid them (avoidance tends to increase the frequency of flashback/intrusions) and maybe spending so much time on them could also help him contextualize them within the broader narrative of his life, which is the basic principle behind Narrative Exposure Therapy, which is said to be pretty effective at treating PTSD... just my two cents

I can’t believe the size of District 11. “How many people do you think live here?” Peeta asks. I shake my head. In school they refer to it as a large district, that’s all. No actual figures on the population. - Perfect example of how tightly the Capitol controls the information the people in the districts have about the other districts... which is basically nothing. Let’s keep them in the dark so they are less likely to connect with each other and band together...

Cinna comes in with a pretty orange frock patterned with autumn leaves. I think how much Peeta will like the color. - Lol, Katniss bringing everything back to Peeta because she definitely hasn’t a crush on the guy, I see 😉

And then he [Peeta] hesitates before adding something that wasn’t written on the card. Maybe because he thought Effie might make him remove it. “It can in no way replace your losses, but as a token of our thanks we’d like for each of the tributes’ families from District Eleven to receive one month of our winnings every year for the duration of our lives.” - Peeta, the rebel! Talk about an act of radical kindness! I’m so proud of him. But also, I think this is another excellent example of how he and Katniss are on the same wavelength (this took me some time to find, but here you go): I silently say good-bye to Thresh and thank him for my life. I promise to remember him and, if I can, do something to help his family and Rue’s, if I win. (Ch. 23, THG)

I look at Peeta and he gives me a sad smile. I hear Haymitch’s voice. “You could do a lot worse.” At this moment, it’s impossible to imagine how I could do any better. The gift... it is perfect. So when I rise up on tiptoe to kiss him, it doesn’t seem forced at all. - Peeta: does anything that exemplifies his sense of morality; Katniss: *swoons* - but honestly, it is so beautiful how Katniss is so attracted to Peeta’s goodness and kind heart - it also tells us a lot about her (she is quite pure, as Peeta will point out later in this book) and what she values

“Wait, please.” I don’t know how to start, but once I do, the words rush from my lips as if they’ve been forming in the back of my mind for a long time. - And then Katniss launches into one of her spontaneous, heart-felt, and inspiring speeches/acts, expressing her thanks, sympathy, and a sense of kinship with people beyond the borders of her district, beyond the superficial barriers the Capitol has been trying to maintain in order to weaken the ‘common folk‘ and keep the exploitation going

The full impact of what I’ve done hits me. It was not intentional - I only meant to express my thanks - but I have elicited something dangerous. An act of dissent from the people of District 11. - Again, Katniss has done something that will solidify her as a symbol of the revolution without intending to do so and that’s the point, I think - she inspires people through her genuine displays of caring for others (which, in Panem, is already rebellious on its own)

Chapter 5

“We’re going!” says Peeta, shoving the Peacekeeper who’s pressing on me. “We get it, all right? Come on, Katniss.” His arm encircles me and guides me back into the Justice Building. - Protective Peeta! Also, I think it’s interesting to note the wording of Peeta’s arms “encircling” Katniss and then “guiding” her - his arms surround her, and he’s leading her away from harm (at least to the extent that is in his power - can’t really be safe from harm in Panem, can you?), but it doesn’t seem smothering or oppressive to Katniss in any way -”guide” has more of a connotation of giving direction without force, imo; in contrast, when Katniss talked about her kiss with Gale she mentions she’d never imagined how those hands [...] could as easily entrap me. (Ch. 2, CF); granted, these are two very different situations - the phrasing just stood out to me

“What happened?” Effie hurries over. “We lost the feed just after Katniss’s beautiful speech, and then Haymitch said he thought he heard gun fire, and I said it was ridiculous, but who knows? There are lunatics everywhere!” - Very telling how a clueless Capitolite like Effie wouldn’t register the rebellious aspect of Katniss’s speech; by keeping the Capitolites in the depths of sweet, sweet ignorance while simultaneously harshly trying to curb any spark of rebellion by cutting off the feed, the government is actually drawing the attention of the ignorant Capitolites to the act of rebellion itself (and also letting the people in the districts know that there was something censor-worthy going on); kind of shooting themselves in the foot here

As far as I know, Haymitch has only been here once, when he was on his Victory Tour decades ago. But he must have a remarkable memory or reliable instincts, because he leads us up through a maze of twisting staricases and increasingly narrow halls. [...] Eventually we climb a ladder to a trapdoor. When Haymitch pushes it aside, we find ourselves in the dome of the Justice Building. - I wonder how Haymitch has come to know this part of the Justice Building? Has he been to District 11 more often than Katniss supposes (he is friends with Chaff, after all), did his mentor take him there for some private conversation, or was there a moment during Haymitch’s Victory Tour where he felt so overwhelmed by feelings of guilt and powerlessness that he fled to the most desolate, solitary place he could find?

“I was supposed to fix things on this tour. [...] Calm things down. But obviously, all I’ve done today is get three people killed, and now everyone in the square will be punished.” I feel so sick that I have to sit down on a couch, despite the exposed springs and stuffing. - Obviously, all of this is awful and no one - especially a traumatized, 16-year old girl - should have to suffer carrying such a burden... But also, here we see one of the downsides of Katniss taking sole responsibility for everything - she totally forgot that Peeta might feel responsible too, only that he didn’t even know what’s at stake - which leads us to-

“Then I made things worse, too. By giving the money,” says Peeta. Suddenly he strikes out at a lamp that sits precariously on a crate and knocks it across the room, where it shatters against the floor. “This has to stop. Right now. This - this - game you two play, where you tell each other secrets but keep them from me like I’m too inconsequential or stupid or weak to handle them.”"It's not like that, Peeta-" I begin. "It's exactly like that!" he yells at me. - When kind, gentle Peeta’s mad, you know shit has hit the fan 😳 But also, being passed over/kept out of the loop seems to hit pretty close to home for Peeta (while I would like to know what his home life looked like before the Games, I have to admit that at this point, I’m somewhat afraid I might not be able to handle the truth...). I just think this scene is an important moment that leads to an end of (most of) their detrimental secrecy (hello end-of-CF-Haymitch!) and establishes their little team as such (hence the drawing)

“You’re always so reliably good, Peeta,” says Haymitch. “So smart about how you present yourself before the cameras. I didn’t want to disrupt that.” “Well, you overestimated me. Because I really screwed up today.” - Remember the last time someone overestimated Peeta (Foxface and the berries)? That ended in someone’s death as well... And, Haymitch? ‘Never assume’ applies to you, too!

“Do you think I gave them [Rue’s and Thresh’s families] a bright future? Because I think they’ll be lucky if they survive the day!” Peeta sends something else flying, a statue. I’ve never seen him like this. - Considering that his rebellious act of kindness is now threatening to become a sword of Damocles, hanging over those towards which he wanted to extend his kindness - simply because he’s been kept out of the loop (again)- Peeta’s anger is quite understandable

“Look, boy-” Haymitch begins. “Don’t bother, Haymitch. I know you had to choose one of us. And I’d have wanted it to be her. But this is something different. People are dead out there. More will follow unless we’re very good.” - Peeta doesn’t really care if it’s just his life on the line, but if other people’s lives are at risk? He takes no shit (it’s admirable in one way and deeply concerning in another); also, Peeta is right - while there still is a game to play, it’s not the Games, so different circumstances and rules apply

“From now on, you’ll be fully informed,” Haymitch promises. “I better be,” says Peeta. - Peeta generally is a very cooperative fellow, but don’t ever think he can’t be forceful and stand his ground when it matters!

“Did you choose me, Haymitch?” I ask. “Yeah,” he says. “Why? You like him better,” I say. “That’s true. But remember, until they changed the rules, I could only hope to get one of you out of there alive,” he says. “I thought since he was determined to protect you, well, between the three of us, we might be able to bring you home.” “Oh,” is all I can think to say. - This is such a quiet, sweet moment and also shows that Katniss, Haymitch and Peeta have been some sort of team from the start (also, in their team effort they actually managed to get the both of them back home!)

Everything is happening too fast for me to process it. The warning, the shootings, the recognition that I may have set something of great consequence in motion. The whole thing is so improbable. And it would be one thing if I had planned to stir things up, but given the circumstances... how on earth did I cause so much trouble? - Lol, you’re giving yourself a little too much credit here, Katniss ;) Frankly, the Capitol has been the one to create this powder-keg they are sitting on in the first place - all it needed was a little spark... All these injustices, the humilitation, the pain inflicted... it’s like an elastic rubber band that’s been stretched and stretched - until it snaps

“I’m something of an expert in architectural design, you know?” “Oh yes, I’ve heard that,” says Portia before the pause gets too long. - Bless Portia’s heart, making sure they avoid that awkward silence 😂

Effie looks so distressed that I spontaneously give her a hug. “That’s awful, Effie. Maybe we shouldn’t go to the dinner at all. At least until they’ve apologized.” - Aww, Katniss doing something nice for Effie!😊

Peeta and I join hands. “Haymitch says I was wrong to yell at you. You were only operating under his instructions,” says Peeta. “And it isn’t as if I haven’t kept things from you in the past.” - Peeta sorta apologizing, even acknowledging that he also had kept secrets from Katniss? We love to see it👍 - [...] “I think I broke a few things myself after that interview.” “Just an urn,” he says. - Peetaaa... stop diminishing your own physical injuries! Good thing that Katniss won’t let him: - “And your hands. There’s no point to it anymore though, is there? Not being straight with each other?” I say. “No point,” says Peeta. - Gasp! Honest, open communication as a good basis for a successful relationship? It’s more likely than you think!

“Was that really the only time you kissed Gale?” I’m so startled I answer. “Yes.” With all that has happened today, has that question actually been preying on him? - Peeta, you sly dog! Your priorities 😂

Some crowds have the weary-cattle feel that I know District 12 usually projects at the victors’ ceremonies. But in others - particularly 8, 4, and 3 - there is genuine elation in the faces of the people at the sight of us, and under the elation, fury. - I do think that it’s interesting how D4 is one of the districts being elated to see Peeta + Katniss and displaying such fury, despite being a Career district; just goes to show that, just because their odds are better at winning the Games, doesn’t have to make them more simpatico with the Capitol’s cruelty... (Considering how Finnick knows how to perform CPR, it’s highly likely that people in D4 are also used to awful and precarious working + living situations... maybe that’s exactly why they generally are so robust and do well in the Games; and maybe they are simply not that above joining the other Careers as long as it improves their chances of survival, like Katniss or Thresh had been... worked for a while for Peeta, too)

Effie starts giving me pills to sleep, but they don’t work. [...] Peeta, who spends much of the night roaming the train, hears me screaming as I struggle to break out of the haze of drugs that merely prolong the horrible dreams. He manages to wake me and calm me down. Then he climbs into bed to hold me until I fall back to sleep. After that, I refuse the pills. But every night I let him into my bed. We manage the darkness as we did in the arena, wrapped in each other’s arms. - 😭 Also: Very telling how Capitolite Effie just throws pills at the problem (with the best of intentions, I’m sure), which is an immediate, unpersonal, and superficial solution at best, whereas Peeta holding Katniss, offering comfort, understanding, a sense of safety, and human connection is so much more personal, intimate, and effective (for both of them!)

I personally killed the girl, Glimmer, and the boy from District 1. As I try to avoid looking at his family, I learn that his name was Marvel. How did I never know that? - You know why, Katniss - I suppose that before the Games I didn’t pay attention and afterward I didn’t want to know. - Still, not knowing his name didn’t stop you from humanizing him, Katniss, and that’s important, too

Whatever we do seems too little, too late. Back in our old quarters in the Training Center, I’m the one who suggests the public marriage proposal. Peeta agrees to do it but then disappears to his room for a long time. Haymitch tells me to leave him alone. “I thought he wanted it, anyway,” I say. “Not like this,” Haymitch says. “He wanted it to be real.” - Come on, Katniss, don’t be so callous; Peeta’s just as much of a prisoner here as you! Also, it’s all about being real or not real with these two, isn’t it?

Chapter 6

... you would think that at this moment, I would be in utter despair. Here’s what’s strange. The main thing I feel is a sense of relief. That I can give up this game. [...] That if desperate times call for desperate measures, then I am free to act as desperately as I wish. - Honestly, I think it was pretty short-sighted of Snow to let Katniss know so clearly that she didn’t succeed in her task; she did her utmost and it wasn’t enough - might as well fling caution to the wind now. All bets are off. If there had been still some small chance she could have ‘made things right’, she probably would have been trying harder to comply to his expectations. (I’m sure Snow thought the upcoming implementations of his stricter regime would be enough to keep Katniss in check, but pride comes before a fall ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

It’s essential to get back to District 12, because the main part of any plan will include my mother and sister, Gale and his family. And Peeta, If I can get him to come with us. I add Haymitch to the list. - For such a ‘loner’, Katniss sure has a lot of people that are important to her... And how ironic that Peeta, who she isn’t sure she’ll be able to convince in following her will be a much more willing participant that Gale, who Katniss is pretty much banking on joining her

“You’ll probably have to pass a new law,” I say with a giggle. “If that’s what it takes,” says the president with conspiratorial good humor. Oh the fun we two have together. - The dynamic between Snow and Katniss is so strange; despite the obvious antagonism there is definitely some vibe of interacting with each other at eye level and it’s weird (Sidenote: Is there any law in Panem preventing minors from marrying?)

“I want to taste everything in the room, “ I tell Peeta. [...] “Then you’d better pace yourself,” he says. “Okay, not more than one bite of each dish,” I say. My resolve is almost immediately broken at the first table, which has twenty or so soups - couldn’t have happened to me; I hate soup (like, thick soups I maaaybe can get behind, but clear soup/broth is just flavored water to me, no thanks - then again, I’m a picky eater)

Peeta and I make no effort to find company but are constantly sought out. We are what no one wants to miss at the party. I act delighted, but I have zero interest in these Capitol people. They are only distractions from the food. - Well isn’t that a mood for every social gathering ever (one person I enjoy talking to and lots of food I like? Perfect.)

I pick up a small roasted bird, bite into it, and my tongue floods with orange sauce. Delicious. But I make Peeta eat the remainder because I want to keep tasting things - Katniss seems to like the combination of meat and fruit, huh? (the lamb and plums, now bird and orange sauce) Personally, it’s a combination that’s on thin ice for me; there are only a few dishes with that component I actually like and it took me forever to tolerate them (I don’t know if it’s the texture or the taste, but something makes me apprehensive about it); anyway, Katniss making Peeta eat the rest is such a casual, couple-y thing to do (or at least something you do with someone you feel very comfortable with, I think)

Peeta looks at the glass again and puts it together. “You mean this will make me puke?” My prep team laughs hysterically. “Of course, so you can keep eating,” says Octavia. “I’ve been in there twice already. Everyone does it, or else how would you have any fun at a feast?” I’m speechless, staring at the pretty little glasses and all they imply. - Oh boy, I have a lot of thoughts on this part: A) I just noticed how this is the second delicate/fancy glass/drink that’s bringing about a jarring revelation: first that orange juice with the frilly straw in THG, now these tiny wine-stemmed glasses, B) “Everyone does it” + “how else would you have fun?” are the shittiest reasons I’ve ever heard at a party for doing something stupid you probably don’t want to do (I’m having flashbacks to all the times I had people trying to pressure me into drinking alcohol as a teen - it was even legal, btw - although I insisted that I didn’t like the taste (which I still don’t, to this day); it was tiresome 😑), C) “everyone does it” - the people in the Capitol must have some messed up teeth if that’s a regular occurence (sure, they probably bleach their teeth all the time, but also... they’d really need to, D) the obvious: how effed up that they just puke to stuff in more food when in the districts people literally are dying from starvation?! (and yeah, unequal distribution of resources sadly isn’t just a thing in Panem, I know... but there is something about actively purging yourself just for funsies that’s just extra, well, sick)

All I can think of is the emaciated bodies of the children on our kitchen table as my mother prescribes what the parents cannot give. More food. - God, how awful! How powerless they must feel 😟

And here in the Capitol they’re vomiting for the pleasure of filling their bellies again and again. Not from some illness of body or mind, not from spoiled food. - Ooh, I’ve never noticed before how this passage not only recognizes physical reasons for purging, but also mental reasons! Wouldn’t have necessarily expected Katniss to acknowledge eating disorders like that, tbh... She has become a lot more cognizant and sensitive when mental health issues are concerned

One day when I dropped by to give Hazelle the game, Vick was home sick with a bad cough [...] he still spent about fifteen minutes talking about how they’d opened a can of corn syrup from Parcel Day and each had a spoonful on bread and were going to maybe have more later in the week. How Hazelle had said he could have a bit in a cup of tea to soothe his cough, but he wouldln’t feel right unless the others had some, too. - Aww, Vick is such a sweetheart! Hazelle is raising her kids right!

“Peeta, they bring us here to fight to the death for their entertainment,”I say. “Really, this is nothing by comparison.” “I know. I know that. It’s just sometimes I can’t stand it anymore. To the point where... I’m not sure what I’ll do.” He pauses, then whispers, “Maybe we were wrong, Katniss.” “About what?” I ask. “About trying to subdue things in the districts,” he says. - Peeta’s rebellious nature coming through again!

“Sorry,” he says. He should be. This is no place to be voicing such thoughts. “Save it for home,” I tell him. - I know Katniss means D12, but her phrasing of “home” evokes a more domestic, couple-y connotation again 😊

I don’t want to dance with Plutarch Heavensbee. I don’t want to feel his hands, one resting against mine, one on my hip. I’m not used to being touched, except by Peeta or my family, and I rank Gamemakers somewhere below maggots in terms of creatures I want in contact with my skin. - It’s telling that, while Katniss is not big on being touched aside from her family (does that include Gale? probably? although they hadn’t even really hugged until Katniss had been reaped, so... I dunno), she’s totally fine with Peeta touching her (more than that: remember how good she felt holding his hand again in Ch.4 and how she’s feeling safe in his arms when they are sharing a bed), it says a lot about how comfortable she feels around him

Plutarch steps back and pulls out a gold watch on a chain from a vest pocket. He flips open the lid, sees the time, and frowns. “I’ll have to be going soon.” He turns the watch so I can see the face. “It starts at midnight.” - Honestly, this very subtle hint/foreshadowing of the clock setup of the Quarter Quell arena is simply brilliant! And also, midnight is going to become an important point in time as well from here on out (lightning tree, in the hanging tree song, saving Peeta and the others from the Training Center in the Capitol)

It’s another mockingjay. Exactly like the pin on my dress. Only this one disappears. He snaps the watch closed. “That’s very pretty,” I say. “Oh, it’s more than pretty. It’s one of a kind,” he says. - The disappearing mockingjay on the clock is interesting because A) Plutarch can’t really be flaunting the symbol of rebellion as Head Gamemaker, duh, but also B) the clock arena will be the place where the Mockingjay will disappear (until the rebellion will be able to use her for their cause); and that last comment by Plutarch clearly is aimed at the Mockingjay (Katniss) herself

When I open my eyes, it’s early afternoon. My head rests on Peeta’s arm. I don’t remember him coming in last night. - Okay, Katniss must feel hella safe and used to Peeta joining her in her bed, because apparently she didn’t even wake up when he did, like... I’m a fairly heavy sleeper, but I can’t imagine sleeping so deeply that I wouldn’t jerk awake if someone crawled into my bed while I was snoozing

“No nightmare,” he says. “What?” I ask. “You didn’t have any nightmares last night,” he says. He’s right. For the first time in ages I’ve slept through the night. - Telling how the first time Katniss sleeps through the night is after Snow let her know her performance wasn’t enough; she’s must have been so tense and on edge, desperately trying to calm down the districts and convince Snow, that she hadn’t been able to sleep properly, aside from the obvious sleeping issues she’d have from the PTSD (I’m often that way before an important exam - especially if it’s an oral exam; I get tense just thinking about it 😓)

“I had a dream, though,” I say, thinking back. “I was following a mockingjay though the woods. For a long time. It was Rue, really. I mean, when it sang, it had her voice.” “Where did she take you?” he says, brushing my hair off my forehead. “I don’t know. We never arrived,” I say. “But I felt happy.” - Interesting how in Katniss’s dream, the mockingjay is Rue - lending further credence to the hypothesis that maybe Rue was originally meant to be the Mockingjay (would make Plutarch’s comment of the mockingjay being “one of a kind” a bit more hypocritical/exaggerated/dramatized, which still fits with his flair for propaganda/showmanship... and ultimately, Katniss as the Mockingjay was unique, but that doesn’t mean that the rebellion couldn’t have made someone else their symbol if they needed to); also, Peeta brushing Katniss’s hair off her forehead is so sweet and intimate 😊

After I got home, we [Madge and I] started spending time together. [...] It was a little awkward at first because we didn’t know what to do. Other girls our age, I’ve heard them talking about boys, or other girls, or clothes. Madge and I aren’t gossipy and clothes bore me to tears. But after a few false starts, I realized she was dying to go into the woods, so I’ve taken her a couple of times and showed her how to shoot. She’s trying to teach me the piano, but mostly I like to listen to her play. - Honestly? I’d love to read a fanfic about Katniss and Madge figuring out their friendship (let me know if there already are some!); it’s cute how they end up including each other in their hobbies 😊 Ah, the classic “I’m/We’re not like other girls”, which often is especially prevalent during your teen years (I’d be lying if I said that I haven’t been gulty of this in my past 😅)... Katniss might actually would have benefited from talking with Madge about her boys’ troubles, though... And it’s so funny how Katniss admits that she has no interest in clothes, despite it being her supposed “talent”, while she also admits that she does admire Cinna’s work

... there’s a mob scene. The square’s packed with screaming people, their faces hidden with rags and homemade masks, throwing bricks. Building burn. Peacekeepers shoot into the crowd, killing at random. I’ve never seen anything like it - I... I have. At least on tv... In different places, at different times, but... yeah...

#thgagain #thg #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #haymitch abernathy #everlark #thg meta #my sketches and drawings #honestly there were so many scenes in these 3 chapter that I wanted to draw... but I barely had the time for these 2 #Catching Fire is just chock-full with interesting/important moments... my book is more post-it notes than pages at this point

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