fatefought

[fatefought]

𝟐𝟎𝟎 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 

from this generator.

❛ close your eyes and hold out your hands. ❜ ❛ what are you smiling at? ❜ ❛ i can’t leave you alone for one minute, can i? ❜ ❛ was it you? did you do all this? ❜ ❛ i don’t know how you do this every day… ❜ ❛ that is not an appropriate question to ask a lady you’ve just met. ❜ ❛ i’m not sorry. ❜ ❛ i did warn you not to trust me. ❜ ❛ do you remember anything? at all? ❜ ❛ you’re lucky you’re cute. ❜ ❛ why don’t you just kill me? ❜ ❛ did you hurt yourself? ❜ ❛ i could show you the way. ❜ ❛ i don’t feel so good. ❜ ❛ you owe me a dinner. a very nice dinner. ❜ ❛ don’t go. please. ❜ ❛ you wanna know what your problem is? ❜ ❛ i’m here to drink alone. ❜ ❛ don’t run away from this. ❜ ❛ i’m just saying, murder is an option. ❜ ❛ i didn’t realize you were in so much pain. ❜ ❛ i guess it runs in the family, huh? ❜ ❛ you wouldn’t understand. ❜ ❛ we’ve been through a lot. i think we should just lay low and take it easy. ❜ ❛ dangerous to be out so late. ❜ ❛ i hope you haven’t been standing out in the cold this whole time. ❜ ❛ i made a mistake. ❜ ❛ am i not good enough? ❜ ❛ i’m going to get you out of here. ❜ ❛ why did you bring me here? ❜ ❛ aren’t we in a good mood today? ❜ ❛ don’t shut me out. please. ❜ ❛ the storm’s getting worse. ❜ ❛ i never meant to hurt you. ❜ ❛ you’re about as intimidating as a butterfly. ❜ ❛ have you come to laugh at me in my miserable state? ❜ ❛ here, take this. you’ll catch a cold. ❜ ❛ this is the part where you leave. ❜ ❛ why are you talking like we’ll never see each other again? ❜ ❛ you stepped on my foot! ❜ ❛ you’re not a very convincing liar. ❜ ❛ we’re in completely different leagues. ❜ ❛ how did you find me? ❜ ❛ i don’t need you anymore. ❜ ❛ rough day today? ❜ ❛ snap out of it! ❜ ❛ you look better in my clothes than i do. ❜ ❛ why are you still here? ❜ ❛ can i ask… what happened? ❜ ❛ are you saying you care about me? ❜ ❛ i won’t let anyone hurt you. ❜ ❛ it’s not stealing if it was mine to begin with. ❜ ❛ well, this is where i live. ❜ ❛ we’re not so different after all. ❜ ❛ how long have i been asleep? ❜ ❛ no more lies, no more secrets. ❜ ❛ can you forgive me? ❜ ❛ i thought you… i saw you get shot. ❜ ❛ why are you really here? ❜ ❛ i wish we never met. ❜ ❛ you look like you need a hug. ❜ ❛ would you run away with me? ❜ ❛ see? i’m not just a pretty face. ❜ ❛ we can stop them. i can help you. ❜ ❛ what now? i’m tired. ❜ ❛ i didn’t want you to see me like this. ❜ ❛ i can’t do this without you. ❜ ❛ if you tell me yours, i’ll tell you mine. ❜ ❛ are you threatening me? ❜ ❛ did you ever care about me? ❜ ❛ treat me like the princess that i am! ❜ ❛ i’m not leaving you. ❜ ❛ why did you come? ❜ ❛ i need your help… and you need mine. ❜ ❛ i wish i could hate you. ❜ ❛ i see you don’t recognize me. well, it was a long time ago. ❜ ❛ you’ve lost a lot of blood. ❜ ❛ i had my suspicions, but until now i wasn’t sure. ❜ ❛ there’s nothing left for me here. ❜ ❛ that is… literally illegal. you’re describing something illegal. ❜ ❛ wait. i’ve heard that sound before. ❜ ❛ just try to hang on. ❜ ❛ so why’s it so important anyway? ❜ ❛ i’ll stay in tonight, thanks. ❜ ❛ we can’t keep going on like this. ❜ ❛ in about a minute, you’ll be sorry you didn’t listen to me. ❜ ❛ is this seat taken? sorry, it’s a bit crowded here. ❜ ❛ you can’t leave me here alone! ❜ ❛ i’ll believe it when i see it. ❜ ❛ why are you laughing? this is a very serious situation. ❜ ❛ i bought two. here. ❜ ❛ i’ve seen you before, walking by. ❜ ❛ why can’t i come with you? ❜ ❛ c'mon. aren’t you worried what might happen if we go? ❜ ❛ walk with me? ❜ ❛ it’s very rude to stare. ❜ ❛ how many times have i told you? you can’t visit me here. ❜ ❛ we can’t fix this. can we? ❜ ❛ are you going to kill me? ❜ ❛ it’s not like you can stop me. ❜ ❛ it’s not safe for people to see us together. ❜ ❛ take me with you. ❜ ❛ some risks are worth taking. ❜ ❛ let them go. take me instead. ❜ ❛ what do you want in exchange for it? ❜ ❛ is being drunk an excuse? ❜ ❛ promise me you won’t overreact. ❜ ❛ how can i possibly trust you? after all you’ve done. ❜ ❛ how long have you been standing there? ❜ ❛ why did you wake me? ❜ ❛ i’m not here to talk about my feelings. ❜ ❛ you were going to leave without saying goodbye? ❜ ❛ for some reason, i’m attracted to you. ❜ ❛ promise me? ❜ ❛ it’s nothing, i’m just tired. ❜ ❛ i feel safe with you. ❜ ❛ i don’t need your help. ❜ ❛ i think i have a bit more experience with this thing than you do. ❜ ❛ no way, i’m not doing that. ❜ ❛ i do care. ❜ ❛ you snore in your sleep. it’s adorable. ❜ ❛ i have a spare bed. ❜ ❛ you’re very kind. some day it’ll get you killed. ❜ ❛ you’ll always have a home with me. ❜ ❛ of course i care. you’re my family. ❜ ❛ you shouldn’t insult people that are bigger than you. ❜ ❛ i never wanted to hurt you. ❜ ❛ i swear it wasn’t me. ❜ ❛ we can just sit here, you don’t have to talk. ❜ ❛ did you miss me? ❜ ❛ this isn’t just about you. it’s about what’s best for all of us. ❜ ❛ you can never admit when you’re wrong! ❜ ❛ is this what you wanted? ❜ ❛ what are you doing out here by yourself? ❜ ❛ sorry to put you through that. i guess i owe you one now. ❜ ❛ the only time you talk to me is when you need something. ❜ ❛ i’m still learning. ❜ ❛ if you have something to say, spit it out. ❜ ❛ you… don’t like me very much, do you? ❜ ❛ i’m on your side. ❜ ❛ i risked my life for you! ❜ ❛ whatever you’re going to ask, the answer is no. ❜ ❛ you can stay with me. ❜ ❛ i just need time. ❜ ❛ please don’t do this, don’t act like you care. ❜ ❛ who the hell invited you? ❜ ❛ what? no witty remark? nothing clever to say? ❜ ❛ i just wanted to say i’m sorry. ❜ ❛ think of it as a compliment. ❜ ❛ do you ever stop being so serious and dull? ❜ ❛ it’s rare to see your kind around here. ❜ ❛ you remember me. that’s good. ❜ ❛ you’re a terrible flirt you know. ❜ ❛ are you kidding me? we’re not ‘fine’! ❜ ❛ right now i wish i was dead. ❜ ❛ i guess i should’ve told you. ❜ ❛ you’re not alone. i’m here. ❜ ❛ you’ve been so quiet. what’s on your mind? ❜ ❛ knowledge is power. ❜ ❛ you scared me. ❜ ❛ well, what’s so strange about that? ❜ ❛ don’t look at me like that. ❜ ❛ i want to be there when you get what’s coming to you. ❜ ❛ just who do you think you are? ❜ ❛ you look… amazing. ❜ ❛ we’re safe, aren’t we? ❜ ❛ you know, i really hoped i’d never see this place again. ❜ ❛ don’t touch me. get away from me. ❜ ❛ i thought you’d like this. ❜ ❛ it’s too dark, i can’t see anything. ❜ ❛ what’s that smug look for? you think you can do any better? ❜ ❛ who did you piss off this time? ❜ ❛ you should’ve thought about that before you got into a fight. ❜ ❛ i only wanted to help. ❜ ❛ you knew and you didn’t tell me? ❜ ❛ you don’t scare me. ❜ ❛ wow, look who remembered my existence. ❜ ❛ change isn’t easy. ❜ ❛ why did you help me? ❜ ❛ why do you hate me? ❜ ❛ i can’t even trust myself anymore. ❜ ❛ i was making sure you weren’t dead, since you never called. ❜ ❛ you look awful. what happened? ❜ ❛ are you here to kill me? ❜ ❛ you know you aren’t allowed in here, right? ❜ ❛ was that a friend of yours? ❜ ❛ two years later and you haven’t changed. ❜ ❛ you look like you just saw a ghost. ❜ ❛ nobody tells me what to do. ❜ ❛ you’re too scared to do it, aren’t you? ❜ ❛ come on. it can’t be that bad. ❜ ❛ i hope to repay your kindness someday. ❜ ❛ just let me do this for you. ❜ ❛ why were they coming after you? ❜ ❛ how many people have you killed? how many? ❜ ❛ how much do you value your life? ❜ ❛ you don’t know when to give up, do you? ❜ ❛ don’t lie to me. ❜ ❛ i’m not sober enough to talk about this. ❜ ❛ have a drink with me. ❜

[fatefought]

🌙  *  ―     𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐒  (  prompts for the five senses. add [reversed] to reverse the action. feel free to change wording as needed & add details )

𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇.

[ 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 ] ― sender wraps a soft blanket around receiver’s shoulders [ 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐊 ] ― sender and receiver fall into bed together on silk sheets [ 𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐋 ] ― sender pulls receiver’s hair ( gently / hard ) [ 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 ] ― sender strokes receiver’s hair [ 𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 ] ― sender brushes receiver’s hair [ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 ] ― sender paints a picture onto part of receiver’s body ( specify what & where ) [ 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄 ] ― sender traces their fingertips over receiver’s body [ 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑 ] ― sender traces a scar on receiver’s body [ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 ] ― sender reaches out to hold receiver’s hand [ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 ] ― sender worships receiver’s body

𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄.

[ 𝐔𝐍𝐔𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋 ] ― sender feeds receiver something they’ve never tried before ( specify what ) [ 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑 ] ― sender feeds receiver something sour ( specify what ) [ 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 ] ― sender feeds receiver something sweet ( specify what ) [ 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐄 ] ― sender feeds receiver something spicy ( specify what ) [ 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 ] ― sender kisses receiver to taste the lingering flavour of what they ate or drank on their lips ( specify what ) [ 𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑 ] ― sender bites receiver hard enough to draw blood [ 𝐔𝐍𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋 ] ― sender feeds receiver soup when they’ve fallen ill [ 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊 ] ― sender makes receiver a cocktail to try [ 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐇 ] ― sender cooks receiver their favourite meal [ 𝐓𝐑𝐘 ] ―  sender gives receiver a taste of what they’re cooking / baking for their opinion

𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.

[ 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃 ] ― sender blindfolds receiver [ 𝐑𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄 ] ― sender and receiver see each other again after a period of being apart [ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 ] ― sender notices something different about receiver ( injury / haircut / tattoo / piercing / etc ) [ 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐋 ] ― sender greets receiver in formal partywear ( feel free to add detail ) [ 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐒 ] ― sender takes receiver to see lanterns in the sky [ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 ] ― sender and receiver lay under the stars to stargaze [ 𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐄 ] ― sender and receiver lock eyes across the room [ 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖 ] ― sender and receiver see a shadow move out the corner of their eye [ 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍 ] ― sender and receive watch as something burns ( candles / a building / a campfire / etc ) [ 𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐇 ] ― sender takes receiver to the aquarium to watch the sea life [ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐊 ] ― sender recognises receiver at a masquerade party

𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃.

[ 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐂 ] ― sender puts on the radio to listen to music with receiver [ 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 ] ― sender plays receiver their favourite song on an instrument ( specify what ) [ 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 ] ― sender and receiver are in bed together while rain lashes against the windows / tent / etc [ 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑 ] ― sender whispers something in receiver’s ear ( specify what ) [ 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ] ― sender asks receiver for a dance upon hearing a song [ 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐘 ] ― sender and receiver hear a sound when they should be alone ( footsteps / creaking floorboards / a scream / etc ) [ 𝐇𝐔𝐌 ] ― sender hums a lullaby to lull receiver to sleep [ 𝐌𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐃 ] ― sender comforts a temporally deaf receiver after a loud sound ( gunshot / explosion / etc ) [ 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐌 ] ― sender calms receiver down from a panic attack in a loud place [ 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐑 ] ― sender and receiver hear a muffled sound from another room / outside ( music / people / creature / etc ) [ 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖 ] ― sender hears receiver crying and approaches comfort them

𝐒𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐋.

[ 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐇 ] ― sender puts a scented bath bomb into receiver’s bath [ 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄 ] ― sender lights a scented candle for receiver [ 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ] ― sender puts perfume / aftershave on receiver’s ( wrist / neck / cheek ) [ 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓 ] ― sender inhales receiver’s scent [ 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐊 ] ― sender is drawn to the kitchen by receiver’s cooking [ 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒 ] ― sender steals an item of receiver’s clothes because it smells like them [ 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 ] ― sender notices receiver smells of their shampoo / shower gel [ 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 ] ― sender gives receiver flowers [ 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐇 ] ― sender helps clean receiver after a long day / stressful situation [ 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐘 ] ― sender and receiver walk through the sewers to escape capture / avoid detection / chase someone [ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 ] ― sender massages receiver with a scented oil

[fatefought]

it's tunnel vision: the way all else fades away. it's a direct contrast from the reality. others - native thirteen citizens, rebels, and refugees - are spread throughout the hall. they chatter, machines beep, and life & death dance. but outside his words, all she hears is the beat of her own tinkerer fluttering like a hummingbird in her ears. she has to get to him ! has time stalled ? it's taking too long.

those nearby see the dash of a mad girl. desperation outweighs the torture, as somehow agility stays riff with her. there's no gracefulness in how she wraps herself around finnick odair. but he doesn't fade away. a gasp - or is it a sob ? - leaves her involuntarily. she hadn't realize she'd been holding it, but it vacates from somewhere deep within her. it's almost like it was festering with her those last two months. waiting for this moment, just like annie had.

neglected muscles ache as arms wrap tightly around him. she hadn't held anyone other than her own skin and bones in months. ( thoughts of visitors' past are silenced ; those don't count - do they ? ) either way, she's longed to hold a loved one, most especially finn. is she any good at embracing anymore ? can one forgot how ? it's a bundle of weakened bodies hovering snuggly around one another. together they should crumble to dust - but yet they don't. " i am, " she whispers. she thinks. " so are you, " she adds. she hopes.

skin against skin, her fiance doesn't feel like himself. a chronic fear bubbles deep within her. can thirteen be trusted ? have they truly been good to the man that she loves ? clearer mind might more easily connect that worry has eaten away at him ; when she will eventually look in the mirror, reflection will be unrecognizable in her own right.

hesitantly she pulls away just so, as though somehow her vision might fade away. but long fingers come up as hands cradle his face. " i love you, " she says shakily. once speaking in miles, words now lodge themselves in the canal of her throat. annie leans forward just enough, so that her lips graze his own. it's a moment of warmth and perhaps just a moment of peace within her mind.

while lips part, her hands remain. " i missed you , " she all but squeaks. deep breath is taken before she asks the following question, " caspian, " she draws off, not able to continue. but heavy question is in the atmosphere, at least in her mind. she needs to hear it from him.

Echoes of voices barking orders and clattering medical instruments bounced off the offensively white walls of the medical bay, yet above it all, there’s her voice. Hers. 

There was something about the split second feeling of weightlessness that came from surrendering himself to the ocean on the warmest days of summer, allowing the waves to embrace him completely. There was a certain euphoria that came from beneath the tide. It never lasted long, just the few moments he could last holding himself under the surface, but it was enough for the salt and sea to choke the world and transport him elsewhere. Far from Four. Far from Panem. Far from every trouble, every threat, every heartache. The feeling came for him now, as if the sound of her voice had plunged him into the deepest depths of the Pacific. 

Never had there been a desperation as fierce as this. It wrapped itself around every last molecule that made up his being, swallowing Finnick whole. In that moment (and for the rest of time), he was nothing more than the need to hold her. Lungs failing, a breathless whisper fell from his lips, her name tasting sweeter than it ever had before. “Annie.”

It’s but just seconds later she’s running towards Finnick — the world’s most perfect angel, sent for him. Knees threatening to buckle in an astonishing twist of relief and devastation, it takes every ounce of strength he still has to keep himself upright. 

“It’s real. It’s real. Annie, you’re real.” The moment she reaches his outstretched arms, they’re wrapped tightly around her fragile frame. There would be nothing that would steal her away from him again, he promised it to himself and to her, vow coming as easily as the tears in his eyes. “I’m never letting them take you from me again.” His face buried in Annie’s brown hair, he wants to be drunk on her. “They’ll have to kill me before I ever let them get close to you again. God, Annie, you’re real.”

[fatefought]

eventually, cadence will hopefully get a full clearance in thirteen and be able to walk around without someone constantly hovering over. in the meantime, ezra certainly doesn't mind being a chaperone. why volunteer if he did ? there's a nice familiarity in having her around. and though it's hard not to think about cadence's connection to thea, watching over her at least brought a distraction from harsh reality. he couldn't help thea. he's definitely not gonna let cadie down too, or at least try to do right by her.

" i don't think it would cause any harm to do so, " the chaperon adds about brutus. it's meant to be uplifting. though even klair who doesn't know the victor that well, knows exterior is a hard one. and cliches aside, the interior likely isn't any different. " again, the worst he can do is say no to you visiting him. " which he wouldn't be surprised if cadie somehow acrobaticed her way beyond security if brutus declined. when kentwell puts her mind to something, she doesn't seem to be able to stop until the idea is put into motion.

" and who knows, maybe security misses you, " he jokes, giving her a nudge like an elderly grandpa might do to a grandkid who walked into a web of their awful puns. he's just happy she's out. " did they give you any ideas on how long you'll need supervision for ? "

"Its not that I necessarily didn't have a type of reaction.....there were just other things on my mind..." Cadie mused with a little shrug as she looked at him. There had been so much going on during that time. "Like you going into the games." She pointed out, a few moments later. Cadie understood now why Ezra had done it. But back before the games, she hadn't understood it. She had been angry at him. Angry at what he was doing to her, and for what he was doing to Thea. Even now, she hadn't truly forgiven him. It might have been for the greater good for Panem, but it had still been another important figure in her life that she'd nearly lost. Cadie was tired of losing people that she cared about. "I suppose I haven't really had time to think about it all." She'd been more concerned about other things, like rescuing those she had left behind.

Cadie knows she had come far though, even if she hadn't really thought about it much. This time last year she'd been hiding herself away, basically refusing to talk to anyone. She had very nearly lost all the relationships she had held so dearly. And now, here she was fighting in a rebellion. It was a million miles away from the Cadence Kentwell that had won the hunger games, and then be exploited by the Capitol. Cadie had told Domi that the old Cadence was long gone, and it really was not till now that she realised how true those words had actually been.

"I suppose that is true." Cadie mused with a shrug. She didn't know if she would do it or not. She didn't know if she could handle rejection from Brutus. He was too important to her. "Maybe I'll go see him."

[fatefought]

" for thea, it might very well be, " he interjects, though certainly not with a sense of happiness or pride at the implications. ezra klair cannot speak for enobaria - as he's rather sure his presence would stir a need for violence. but he's overheard the medical staff to know enough, and has asked them about cadence in the last few days. " things are still foggy for her. when her episodes fade, she does well all things considering. but there's a lot that can trigger her right now. " he feels harsh acknowledging the truth. but cadence is a grown woman, she doesn't need to be coddled. " your proximity to the games, the city, parties - it might be a lot for her right now. "

the staff doesn't quiet share the sentiment that thea is doing well when she's present. but he recognizes her when she is ; he also recognizes her when she isn't - as the panic and disassociation is familiar to her post-arena and after certain events past. " they're not specifically barring you, cadence, " he doubles down. because maybe she feels that way ? he couldn't blame her if she did. " but right now, there's nothing that you can do to speed things up. all you can do is be patient. they're here. they're safe. "

but he recognizes that she's scared, even before words leave her. regardless of what careers get taught, feeling an emotion is a very normal thing. " i promise, i'll make sure someone comes and finds you when they're allowing visits. you have my word, cadie. "

Getting angry wasn't going to solve anything. Cadie knew that. But she wasn't great at controlling her temper, not when it got out of hand. Honestly, the people around her where just like that she did not have access to a knife right now. Though if looks could kill, Ezra would not be breathing right now. Cadence also knew that Ezra wasn't the one to blame. It wasn't like he was the one keeping her away from Thea and Enobaria. But they said that people hurt those closest to them. She knew her words wouldn't hurt anyone from 13, but they had the potential to hurt Ezra. But in reality, Cadie didn't want that, she was just hurting.

"Because me seeing them for 5 minutes it really going to be so detrimental to their well being." There was venom dripping from her words. Cadence hadn't been like this for a long time, and she wasn't sure that Ezra had ever seen this side of her. She has to step away, to just try to calm down. Ezra is right. She does just want to force her way into the hospital. But what is that going to achieve? Even if she could get through the doors, she had no idea where Thea or Enobaria were. She probably would not even get anywhere near them. But right now, she still wanted to try. It takes her a few moments, and even then, she wasn't fully calm. But as she turned back to Ezra, her angry had settled into just upset. Under her temper, under her anger, she was just a scared little girl that was fearful of losing someone else she loved. "I'm just scared...." She very rarely spoke her emotions, or her feelings. But she knew Ezra would know, even without her speaking them. "I can't lose anyone else."

[fatefought]

it's wishful to hope for a second that maybe sarah had some truth. wouldn't it be lovely if finnick and mags were both in thirteen right now ? oh with her baby boy ! mags always loved him like he was her great grandbaby by blood, just as she had his father. and if her son is to be raised just by one parent, she's choose everyday for it to be finn. oh finn - he'd be able to figure out how to escape these clutches. " it's all lies, " she says firmer this time, except rationale differs. " the rebels killed him - and others too. whatever you saw was doctored or tortured out of him. " tongue gets bitten back before she adds thea to the list. she won't tug friend down the well with her. but maybe, just maybe, sarah kline will take this information and run it in her circles rather than trash his name more. god, where is mags though ? oh, it hurts her head.

but below the exhaustion and sadness is anger boiling like magma. annie cresta was not someone made for anger ; she felt that emotion like a poison. and perhaps that's why she can't hold back fangs now. " they're dead too, you know ? your tributes. my father, fletcher, and natalia's daughter, rose, are no longer here with us. what you say has consequences. does it even matter to you or are you already looking forward to next year's lot ? " what had any of those from district four done to deserve sarah kline's vitriol. " just consider what it is you have to say next time. that's all, sarah, i promise you. being responsible for danger or death is not something that will ever lay light on your heart. you can't return from that. " or at least good people can't.

It became quite obvious to the blonde that she wasn't going to be heard. Her feelings being dismissed as secondary - collateral damage, if you will. Sarah sniffled and a palm went up to wipe away the wetness that had made its way down to her chin. She straightened her stance, fixed her composure like she used to do when set aside. When she wasn't taken seriously and her father laughed a 'thank heavens she's pretty'. And even though the words were not spoken in that particular order, the ones that lingered were echoing against the walls of her ear canals. And even though they were intended to voice another message, for Sarah it simply confirmed what she had already assumed. None of it has anything to do with you. Such a lonely evaluation of the last couple of years. All her efforts wasted. The people she thought - wished - to be close to; it was all a lie.

There is little left to be sure of. What else could she do but grasp onto the little things that seemed factual. "I saw video's of Finnick. From the rebels. That's not innocent." The escort remembers him speaking of loneliness in his video. Exhaustion from being paraded around. Had all Sarah's efforts fed a growing distaste towards. Was that why she was the only one oblivious to her position in their team? But was doing her job and she was helping! Right? "My assumptions, my gut feelings were only confirmed, when I saw Finnick on my television. And Mags. Maybe I could've believed you now, had you told me in the past that I was wrong and you tried to help me understand. That's what I expected of you!" Painted lips pressed together, swallowing down the lingering emotions. Where she had tried to continue their conversation in a more business-like approach, she failed horribly. Voice grew fragile once more and so did her entire demeanor. "And if you really don't know anything about this, Annie - well, then, they have lied to you as well. But I doubt that they did, I really do."

[fatefought]

they have matching bracelets. annie can't tell what's been documented on thea's, not that she'd actively snoop either. the woman from district two also has blue restraints adorning wrists. and the thought sounds like annie cresta's personal hell, but maybe thea feels differently. they say birds of a feather flock together ; it encapsulates both victors well. though specific scribblings and alternations differ, they feel like two of similar blueprints. thea ellis always made her feel seen ; but also, she often wondered why the other would both want to know her or keep her company. such worries and questioning feel rather insignificant now after everything they both endured - from the arena to the cellblock.

footsteps are gentle, a culmination of barely there hospital slippers as well as trying to not wake the sleeping man. annie remembers when thea finally openly admitting to caring for the man. some parts of the quell have begun to feel fuzzy. though maybe they were never clear to begin with ? her care team has spoken about getting her in with the resident psychiatrist. maybe that'll do cresta some good. either way, she feels a sense of relief seeing the couple so close. maybe one day she'll ask thea about their reunion. they can talk about it over some pastries and tea and who knows - maybe her best friend will have met little cas by then. maybe maybe maybe.

" we're in thirteen, " she says softly. though it's spoken too soon, as she unintentionally speaks over the bedridden woman. she's asking about annie still residing in the medical wing. " it's only been a few days since the rescue, " she adds with a shrug. she places hand palm up next to thea's free hand. it's an unspoken invitation. annie's not sure she'll accept, but that's what she would have wanted had the roles been reversed. " they're gonna do an evaluation tomorrow. i think they'll be doing so for all the captives actually. "

Waking up in Thirteen has proven to be a gamble. Sometimes it takes no time at all before Thea is screaming in terror, fighting to be released from a prison she is no longer bound to. Sometimes her mind takes it easy on her, allowing her to take in her surroundings before trying to convince her that she's trapped. It’s a thousand times easier when Ezra is there, his even breathing and soothing demeanor serves to calm her down more than any nurse or drug ever could. Still, she won’t allow him to squeeze into the hospital bed with her until they are absolutely sure it’s safe. Her nightmares are far worse than they’ve ever been before, and she will not continue to hurt him the way she has in the past. Just his mere presence brings more than enough comfort, and she will sacrifice the feeling of his warmth against her if it means he will get enough rest. 

For about an hour now, she's been conscious — her initial fear was thankfully dispersed the moment she saw Ezra sleeping soundly in his usual place at her bedside. She's been watching him quietly since, letting the steady rise and fall of his chest assure her that all of this is real. But soon Thea is broken from her trance when footsteps and a familiar voice enter her room, and the panic begins to set in once again — because if Annie is visiting her, they may very well be back there. Maybe Ezra isn't truly Ezra, and this all has been a lie. "Annie," her name comes out as a whisper, Thea's heart monitor increasing despite her attempts at keeping calm. Green eyes squeeze shut as she makes fists around her restraints — restraints that are there to keep herself and those around her safe, she must remind herself, not to imprison her — but when she opens them again, everything at least remains the same. They aren't in the cells, at least from what Thea can tell. Still, she doesn't answer the inquiry into her own wellbeing, too embarrassed to acknowledge her obvious distress. "They're still keeping you here?"

[fatefought]

there's a certain heartbreak that he found particularly on rebel related missions. in each one, there were several residents that stood out to him. hurt or malnourished or too young, the last of reasons go on and on. but he's escort them to safety never knowing what had become of them. after the first three that he would try to ask about with no answer, he'd learned to keep his mouth in a firm line and keep his eyes straight. all of those now feel level when his better half is found in a pool of her own blood, utterly battered and bruised. curled up, and the only time he'd ever seen her smaller was during primary years at the academy. he cannot stop and process now. imagine will be engrained for years to come, like a living, real nightmare that will never be escaped.

he holds her tighter as angel eyes shut and limbs become painfully limp. he begins to lean against cell wall to look for a pulse as mind screams at him. it's the smallest comfort to notice next that her chest rises and falls. out her nostrils come the faintest bit of warm air. she's alive, thank god. they'll get her to the hovercraft and medical staff will be able to help her there and within thirteen. heavy steps march out from ellis' cell, all the way to juniper. " i'm gonna take thea to the hover. you can join me or i'll meet you back here. " there's only enough time taken to inhale and exhale a breath before he starts heading on his way. he's a man on a mission.

hand stays holding hers. periodically he has his thumb brush over her soft fingers. it's meant to comfort. not just her either. he'd thought about this day since the arena. but in the arena, he'd assume they'd get to embrace on day zero. if someone would have told him day sixty, klair would have given a resounding no. he thought he'd done right by giving her a clue on where to go when everything began. but for someone who loves to act like she's cold and only likes probably two and a half people - she still turned around to take care of those she loved. he's not proud of the fact that he'd have much rather have had her than brutus on the aircraft or would have rather enobaria get left behind alone than both she and thea. thoughts won't get aired. who would it serve ? but between the two, thea ellis might genuinely be the kinder one.

" no baby, we're at a hospital, " he responds at first, hoping the truth might bring some comfort. machine begins to beep faster as thea squeezes his hand hard. grip is intense, but something so familiar about thea. she always loved to roughhouse and remind him harmlessly about the skill sets she still has ; when you separate it from the hunger games, it could almost be fun.

his lover being worrisome, confused, dissociating though - he'd seen it all before. it's why the public came up with that god awful nickname for her that he detests with a passion. these symptoms and emotions sometimes took her in her trauma from the arena or the capitol. he doesn't know a lot about mental health, but he's always tried to be there for thea. she isn't a fragile little thing, she's just been through a lot.

freehand swiftly moves upward, gently brushing free flowing tears from cheeks and undereyes. " no, the rebels never did that to me. they actually were the ones who got me out of the arena. and i was with them when we got you out of the cells. " tone is so level and soft spoken. he wants to buckle down and apologize for everything. for putting her in this position. for it taking two months to get her out from captivity. for not telling her about his plans in full. but now wouldn't be the right time or place for that discussion. " you're safe here, i promise. i'm gonna stay right here. "

It was her name that broke Thea from her reverie, a name she’d long memorized the sound of coming from his lips. She would listen to him say her name a thousand times over if she could, he made it sound like the most beautiful melody she’s ever had the privilege to listen to. Despite the pain she’d been in, and the decay that overtook her, she still found the strength to reach for him. But this Ezra had to be an angel and he came to her with ease despite the fact that there must have been guards lurking around the hallways — if he were real, he could never have found her this way without facing a certain death. It’s how she knew this must be the end, and she was to be escorted by her very own angel to the other side. 

Now, that moment is the fuel to her increasing confusion. This all seems too real. The scrape of Ezra’s chair against the floor, the hands that find her own. They are perfectly calloused in a way she’s learned by heart over and over again through decades — she’s tracked their lives together through the roughness of his palms. Part of Thea had always hoped he never stopped working for that very reason, despite the fact that she was adamant about him deserving an early retirement; it was simply to easy to remind herself that they were living and growing through the story his hands would tell each time she held them. 

She thinks that may have been what crushed her the most when she watched him die in front of her — the fact that she’d never hold those hands in hers again. But that was only part of her agony, of course. Thea may have been almost completely out of her mind by then, and she may have hazy memories and no understanding of her surroundings now, but she is acutely aware of everything that encompassed Ezra’s death. It would be difficult to forget the way her heart shattered, the distinct feeling of loss that overtook her when she watched as her other half was ripped away from her. It had been her driving force in thinking he was the one saving her from the purgatory she’d been sentenced to. 

With ease, he’d lifted her from a floor stained with her own blood, and Thea had allowed that moment to be the one that brought her peace. Laid against his chest, she’d resigned herself to her fate in the arms of the man she loved most, and the world went dark as she succumbed to death. 

Or at least, so she’d thought.

“Are we dead?” It can’t be true, she realizes — her surroundings have become too real, and his hand in hers is solid and grounding in a way that brings her back to reality. But how lovely it would be if she was given the privilege of spending life after death with the one soul that has always intertwined so effortlessly with her own? Ezra is attentive, as he always is, but Thea pays no mind to his concern for her comfort. “I don’t understand,” she rasps out the words, willing him to understand where she cannot. Her fingers grip his hands with all the strength she can muster, as if he will disappear if she lets go even slightly. “You were dead. They killed you. The rebels killed you and I watched it, I—" Tears begin to form in the corners of her eyes despite her dehydration, and that’s when Thea realizes that she isn’t on the brink of death anymore as she'd thought — in fact, she may even be coming back to life. “How are you here?”

[fatefought]

she nods. teeth gnaw at soft flesh inside of cheeks until a little hankering for iron is fueled. this is all real, why else would the action sting. just like the situation. she would lay awake at night in her cot, hoping, at first, finn would retreat from thirteen ; eventually that turned into a prayer that the love of her life goes quickly - and wouldn't have to keep suffering. now universe has taken her plea, but no relief is felt. in darkest moments, she'll wonder if she made a deal with the devil for simply hoping for finnick's best wellbeing. all she can hold onto is the wish that it was as painless as possible. at least he can't suffer anymore, a tiny voice on her head reasons. how is this the life and standard they've come to ?

" do you - " she draws off for a moment. there's a brief need to figure out how to word the question of her mind. " do you think it's over now ? like they have no more people to hurt there in thirteen ? " the yells and the screams are soul crushing. at least she hears it from a distance. do guards make thea watch it too ? she can't bring herself to ask, and she never will. the idea makes her want to empty her stomach. if it's over though ... maybe they can't hurt thea this way anymore ! maybe in the pure horror of the screams, there's a golden saving grace for ellis now.

thoughts are disrupted from routine jumbled mess to what her neighbor said next. " yeah - um - he thinks they're just fabricating things. " at least, that's what annie cresta gathered. she hadn't actively tried to listen in. besides for lack of privacy being heavy within the block, her cell is directly between peeta mellark and cecelia whitvale. " something about them having the technology to do it. " the rest is blurry ! fatigue and fear aren't the cause of this one though. it was an intentional drowning out. all being audible doesn't mean she won't try to actively respect her fellow captives' wanted seclusion.

I know. The moment Thea hears those words, it feels like thousands of knives have pierced her skin. Annie knows — she knows because… she’s heard it all too? They’ve been there for weeks, Thea’s been tortured over and over by the sounds of her loved ones going through an indescribable pain, some loved ones that Annie shares as well. If she’s listened in every time, if they’ve forced her to go through the same thing Thea has over and over again, to hear the cries of everyone they’ve lost to the rebels — it’s a pain Thea wouldn’t wish on anyone, let alone this young woman that’s become one of her closest friends. “Every time?” She almost can’t bear to ask it, because the answer might be debilitating. Annie deserves every good and pure thing in the world, and for her to be forced to endure everything Thea’s been through during their time in the cells is a cruelty she can’t even imagine. 

Her stance mirrors Annie’s almost, fingers unfurling from the fist she’d formed and coming to rest on the thick glass that separates them. Would it be easier if they could be together, to find comfort in each other’s presence instead of the isolation of their respective cells? Thea doesn’t think so — for her, it’d likely be much worse. As selfish as it is, she doesn’t want to feel Annie’s trembles as she cries over the possibility of Finnick’s death, not because she doesn’t care but because it’d break her much further than she’s already been broken. And for Annie to witness her own agony over Ezra’s fate might be even more unbearable for Thea. “He—" Thea can barely get the words out as she thinks of her own partner, how he’s been painfully screaming in her ear for weeks now along with the others. “He’s there too. Or was.” It’s all she can get out, the broken words are all she can really focus on as her mind is being split in different directions of grief. And then, somehow in the depths of it, she remembers something — a small sliver of hope. “Peeta… he said it might not be real. Do you— have you any idea what he meant?”

[fatefought]

#joel 'chronically stressed' miller ➥ requested by anonymous

[fatefought]

Daniel Henney as Matt Simmons in ‘Criminal Minds: Beyond Borders’

[fatefought]

Havana Rose Liu in AMERICAN HORROR STORIES, 3x04 "Organ", directed by Petra Collins.

[fatefought]

a mutt can be trained. even when pedigrees are less than ideal, proper conditioning can still lead to a diligent pet of sorts. coriolanus snow viewed the victors as shiny trinkets to collect and utilize all in the same. those who understand the importance of submission to the greater scheme can find a more favorable experience within the capitol. truly, the president doesn't request for much. but if a canine forgets to remain loyal to the hand that which feeds them, he isn't above a simple but stern reminder. they always collapse back into their designated place. time and time again, it proves consistently true.

finnick odair particularly displeases the official with his insolence. such a strategist should understand better. though snow remains infinite steps ahead, one would assume a bright gentleman like the man from four would at least see one or two feet ahead of his own actions. " my boy, " he greets the victor not dissimilarly to one of his grandboys. constantinus will one day prove as disingenuous as the trophy before coriolanus. " please take a seat. we have so much to discuss. "

pleasantries remain in essence as libations that he knows mister odair fancies are spread on the grand desk. however, there is no feigning a grin. instead, face remains stoic. though the younger man's actions have been foolish as of late, there's no importance to be gained in such dishonesty. he's an intelligent man, one who doesn't require a hand to hold to see the blatant. " my deep apologies for disrupting your long-distance call with miss cresta. i understand congratulations are in order natheless. " there's a pause in the air: an opportunity to address the known.

Closed Starter | @fatefought | The Capitol: Snow's Office | 74th Reaping Day

Finnick had learned how to handle most things. The exhaustion after a long day of putting on a show for the cameras, the sickness that settled over him each Games season, the quiet anxiety that stalked him from deep in the shadows back in Four — all of it paled in comparison to the overwhelming panic that gripped him in moments like these. 

He had to have known their routine. Nothing Snow did was a coincidence, so the only explanation was that he had found out about his eight o’clock phone calls with Annie. The President had to have been watching the clock, waiting for the exact moment to dial the number to Finnick’s place, letting his hopes rise and rejoicing when they came crashing down when the victor answered the call only to be met with a gruff request to meet. Finnick knew it wasn’t an invitation, not really.

Standing outside the heavy wooden doors that led to Snow’s office, he tried to slow his racing heart. The attempt proved to be futile. There was no relaxing when the man who had you on strings was ready to take the reigns once more.

The door creaked open at the hand of a decorated peacekeeper who wasted no time ushering him into the room. Finnick took his mark, coming to something of a parade rest in the middle of the office to hide his shaking hands. Eyes downcast, he knows better than to speak first, so no greeting comes from him — not that he felt confident that he’d find the words to do so. Instead, Finnick stands motionless and vulnerable before Snow, waiting for him to deliver his commands.

[fatefought]

" oh fuck off - when 'ave ya ever listened to 'nyone ? " it's a weak comeback to something that is the genuine truth. and he certainly would have told her to wise up all the same if she had any of that ability back in the seventy-fourth games. she listens to few. the girl trusts her sister. she would take kindly to her late stylist. and periodically, she does listen to her former mentor. how he somehow because the mockingjay wrangler is beyond him though. he makes for a good target though ! well, at least if fine, permanent scars are anything to go by. " ya're lucky with that, " abernathy rebuffs, pointing at the battered, bruised skin. there's an intrusive thought to poke it ; he bets academy teachers do the same to the careers.

yet, he holds off. " she could maul ya like one of 'em bears in sev'n. it'd be easy for 'er too. i've seen 'er 'viscerate someone so cleanly, it would make ya'r cleanin' of game look fuckin' sloppy. " haymitch had seen the girl after hunting, and it's anything but - which should tell you something. it's another thing everdeen gets from her daddy, he assumes. arms come up at the next accusation, and he cannot help but chuckle. because they had, and it would probably piss her off since the language felt no different from districts seven and twelve talking about their tributes. well dangnabbit, the girl might as well be stepping into the second act of the third quarter quell.

" well - she could'a said ya'r jackshit when we were, " he shrugs. " ya need to talk'ta odair. might be a good sparin' partner for ya since 'e just spent a few months in the dammit dumps. " both are good for the girl frankly. the mockingjay is lucky though as mason is a good trainer and every bit as agile as the woman has ever been. kind ( ish ) thoughts are short-lived though as the girl calls his bluff. or is it a bluff when he didn't technically say anything ?

" i'm pushin' fi'ty. if what'ya have goin' for ya is bein' fitter than me - 'ey might as well call ya the cooked goose. " tongue needs a sharpening when it comes to its sharpness, like a blade that's getting too dull. it goes without saying that he's somewhere between a shell and a ghost, either way also riddled with long-term, self-inflicted harm from vices and a general disregard. but while he offers up finnick, notice how abernathy doesn't - and won't - step up to the plate himself. " sometimes it's not 'bout bein' better - jus' smart'r. " unfortunate words from a man who used a force field to a girl who was about to use some lethal berries.

once upon a time, she thought herself fit — she was most definitely fitter than the other kids from the seam, stick and bones, all the work out they knew was that from school and then in the mines. none of them could climb trees, run across the woods, swim up at the lake. compared to the dozen kids that died from twelve before her, she had some shot. the idea was made ridiculed when she met her competitors for her games, seeing them up close in the area and, it seems, now. someone made a joke these days (it may have been finnick; she has often struggled getting jokes before, and the sentiment has worsened now) that they are training like careers even this underground. maybe that's some right to that.

the exhaustion that took over her for the first week or so has dulled just enough that she can feel her limbs when she goes to bed at nights — and, to some level, it has allowed her to note she's getting better. maybe she should feel some pride on that, but all she feels is that being prepared can bring her one step closer to be ready when the time comes, when she can see the light go out of snow's eyes herself (he's hers; she's been promised that so long ago; for rue, for cinna, for twelve, for peeta).

sweat drips against the sides of her face when she finally stops; the water bottle (one of the perks those training are afforded) stops half-way through her mouth when she catches the staring. katniss has never cared for people looking at her, and it ain't any different when the one stalking is haymitch (nevermind there's been some progress between them, enough for her to almost regret the scars across his face). "y'd told me to not show then. 's on ye." of course, she doesn't mention that, then, there was no way she could have shown any close combat prowess; defeat was natural whenever she thought that she would be doomed if it ever came to that. no one's here is trying to kill her (that she can be sure).

"this is johanna," arm is lifted; still bony, the t-shirt provided for training is not snug enough to hide the purple against brown skin, the result of being grabbed and thrown around by the woman from seven. "y'all talkin' 'bout me? quit it. she's also said i'm still shit." her very words, without the light coddling from haymitch, it seems. two encouraging people; between the three of them, you couldn't make a likable person if you tried (and the capitol had). "you can do any better?"

[fatefought]

credit goes where credit is due. and well damn, the younger man is funny sometimes. ale colored glasses only aid in such a thing, as lips curl upwards and chuckle is hearty. " i would say ya'r generous, but i figure ya get ya'r fill for beggin' when ya'r watchin' the games, " here's no finger wagging, instead hand goes back for another sweet. if kyan doesn't want any, he might as well finish the box. " must be nice bein' a god. if ya'r sparin' change though, care to share any ins'der knowledge of what's to come ?"

he knows what the answer is, but he pokes feathers like he's toying with some birds. " ya know after mine kinda, " he gestures to his neck, finger going across in a singular motion, " i would love to give somethin' back to chaff and seeda'. a victor from eleven would feel as good as one from twelve, " he's rambling. tongue is all but bitten off before he stupidly, and in the opposite of cleverness, mentions something about odds. he's chuckling to himself. in the morbidness of everything, he finds something of a joke. he'd much rather laugh than cry ( or acknowledge his mental health. )

unfortunately, the gamemaker might get a disease as the mentor gets closer to him. arm wraps around shoulder like they're good pals and suddenly haymitch's line of vision is fully directed towards the center. " weird ya'r around here though. who 're ya tryin' to meet ? " he asks, with alcohol drenched breath. it's assumptious. and perhaps if he wasn't a mess tonight, haymitch would reason that kyan was just passing through rather than being suggestive in any way. there's no monopoly of who walks on these sidewalks.

The very last thing Kyan Maddox wanted was a cookie from Haymitch Abernathy, one so surely covered in bacteria not yet studied by humanity. He couldn’t imagine what mischief the victor and his grimy hands had gotten into that evening, and seeing him clumsily reach for another helping almost made his skin crawl. Kyan watched him struggle for a moment, studying his drunken fumbling in judgment. He cleared his throat before speaking as if it would resolve the disgust he felt creeping up on him. “No,” he refused the offer. “I do not.”

Narrowing his eyes, the gamemaker wondered if the man before him was really so dense. Setting aside the fact that scurvy was a non-communicable disease (he knew District 12 struggled, but were they all so poorly educated?), and contrary to whatever Haymitch seemed to be suggesting, Kyan was from the districts. He had grown up in One, relying on his father’s business connections to make it to the Capitol after he’d aged out of the Games. Kyan decided to ignore the comment, choosing to instead match the other’s snide remark. He’d never been one to prioritize deescalation. “I’m not sure what the going salary is for victors these days,” his tone was just as smug, “but if you’re in such dire need of an orange I’m sure I have some spare change here.” He crosses his arms over his chest, gaze critical. “And I won’t even make you beg for it. Maybe.”

[fatefought]

it goes without saying, delly cartwright is a good person - especially when compared to the likes of haymitch abernathy. because while guilt radiates off her like the warm that projects off of burning coals, he will never be the fire burning to keep the house comfortable type. he doesn't feel guilty for delly in the same way he doesn't feel he's betrayed the girl. now when it comes to the boy ? the same cannot be said. " don't fuckin' apologize, " he begins, hand goes to the bridge of his nose and his head shakes. he can't deal with this: the crumbling emotions of someone sugarcoated.

he knows it's not a townie thing as they all have their inclinations to be assholes. but it doesn't surprise the victor that this is the company peeta likes to keep. " stand by h'wat ya wanted to say. ya said it alre'dy. no point in takin' it back now. " he's never been good at pep talks, though he's also taken every step to avoid learning. but he's a feral animal of a person, and he snarls with his teeth. he's not one to stop an argument because it's the sensible thing to do. either someone walks away, or fists come up. and when it comes to the latter, he's long stopped fighting back. other victors - the girl especially as of most recently - have long dealt some impressive blows to the withering man.

" there's not much ya can do, kid. h'wat can ya feasibly do ? ya'r just some townie from twelve. stay 'live long enough and maybe ya'll get a chance to see the boy 'gain. "

What did Delly want from Haymitch? She didn't know. Maybe she was looking for someone that missed Peeta as much as she did. Maybe she wanted to make someone else feel bad to take away some of the pain she was feeling. But that wasn't how Delly was. For a moment she felt like she was watching herself from somewhere else and she couldn't quite believe that she was treating another person like this. More tears fell, but more so from the guilt she was suddenly feeling. Maybe Haymitch was right and things with Peeta hadn't been the same since his win. Maybe he hadn't told her things, probably to protect her, but still all the same there were things she didn't know and she didn't want to have to face that. Delly had treated Haymitch with respect before because he was important to Peeta. What would Peeta say if he saw her now?

But still, even with the guilt she was still angry. But was that anger really at Haymitch, or was it at the people who had left him behind? Was that Haymitch that did that or was it someone else? She felt lost and afraid and she didn't know what to do to make it better. How could she make it better? "I don't know," she finally admitted, looking up to meet Haymitch's eyes. "I just...I miss him and I'm scared. I'm sorry. I shouldn't take it out on you...I just...I don't know what to do."

[fatefought]

where: the outside patio of a brewery in the capitol

when: a cold winter's night soon after the whitvale wedding

who: cecelia & haymitch (@ceceliaknowsbest)

a winter in the city feels like the spring in twelve. though since the second quell, his home is heated similarly to the residences of the capitol. he'll admit he feels like an imposter or a poser when he discusses the struggle of his home district - much less the seam - when he's rolling in shit and money not too different from an average cappie. but bitterness still eats away at him and he holds onto his seam upbringing like a security blanket. and to those in the city, he's still a dumb, drunkard hick anyways. eight is regarded similarly, though the title seems to slide off cecelia like she's slick with grease.

her wedding was the talk. he cannot believe coriolanus fuckin' snow let her get wed off with a man who is every bit a cowboy. no judgement ! he likes the bark of sterling, from what haymitch has seen. but with the shine of the bride, abernathy assumed she would have been courted by some money bags with generational wealth and capitol citizenship. who would have thunk ? not haymitch. though he doesn't expect to see her eventually join him out here.

he's bumming a cigarette from an expensive pack that was a gift from a dream-filled cappie who thought a present would make him present. jokes on the dumb fuck, he doesn't smoke often. haymitch had ignored the pack, until conversating in the pub got too daunting. the thought of having one while several drinks in sounded nice. he pulls the bundle out with a lighter and places it on the ledge in front of cece. it's an unspoken offer. " 'em cigs kill, " he merely states, thick chuckle barely breaths out. haymitch thinks he's funny. he isn't. they did have an alliance for their tributes last arena. " may the odds be in ya'r favor. " for abernathy, if the odds were - they would do just that ; he wonders what would be the case for cecelia.