#And had respected Katniss' choices/decisions a bit more

[saltpepperbeard]

Open Up ~An Everlark One-Shot~

A/N: Hello hello! Does this still count as an Everlark one shot with a particular character of a particular kind thrown into the mix? I’d hope so lol! But hey there; quite the unexpected twist from me, yes? Considering how much I absolutely ROAST the guy who shows up in this story.

I wanted to do it as a fun little exercise however! Oddly enough, I think it was burning his trading card at Toastcon that gave me the extra motivation to go through with this fjkdskds. CATHARTIC, PERHAPS? I have had a headcanon for quite some time though, one where Gale matures enough to actually come back to Twelve to face Katniss and consequently Peeta as well. I decided to play with that idea, and it was definitely fun/challenging figuring out how everyone would react, Katniss especially.

Now, I know this may be a little less than ideal content for some shippers lol! If you’re anything like me, his name alone is enough to send you into a “HMMNOTHANK” most of the time. But I’d definitely appreciate some open-mindedness for this one! Katniss may not throw up Gale, no, but she definitely has some OPINIONS.

So without further adoooooo...

Open Up

I feel relaxed for the first time in weeks. Curled up into the couch, my hands laced over my stomach, my unborn baby stirring softly within...

The scent of Peeta’s baking cheesebuns a comforting perfume in the air, the rain gently tapping against the glass of the window, the warmth of the fire blanketing both body and soul...

It’s nice. And very much needed. Getting this deep into my pregnancy has caused a whirlwind of emotion. Terrors have been frequenting my dreams more often than not. Panic has overtaken me more than relief has. Uncertainty has danced through my system in contrast to the usual steadiness.

I don’t know; something’s different about today. It feels like everything has fallen into place, everything’s where it should be. All my favorite things have lined up to swaddle me in comfort, swaddle me in relief. Seems like not too many things could threaten such a wonderful, easygoing morning.

“Love?”

The familiar, handsome voice calling from the kitchen breaks me from my thoughts, but not from my eased state, in fact adding to it. A warm smile stretches my cheeks as I reply back.

“Hmm?”

“Doing alright in there?”

I can hear him still working as he talks, pounding dough and bustling around the kitchen. I bite my lip, smiling more as I picture his concentration.

“I guess.”

Now, he halts, giving a firm slap to the dough before pausing.

“You guess?”

I shake my head softly; so protective as always. He’s got even more so with my pregnancy. Even the slightest bit of upset or discomfort on my part will get him leaping to action. If it were anyone else, it would almost be annoying. But with him, with my husband...it’s strangely endearing.

I worry my lip more, puffing with mirth. Shouldn’t worry him, I guess, so my response turns to teasing.

“Just missing someone. He’s wrapped up in his work though, so maybe I shouldn’t bother him.”

I can practically hear the tension in the kitchen break, Peeta sighing before falling victim to laughter.

“Oh,” he snickers, and continues on with baking, “Well, yeah, he is pretty busy making cheesebuns for his two favorite people. Not that he would mind the company, but such a distraction might put said cheesebuns on hold.”

“That might be a risk I’m willing to take,” I murmur back.

I know my husband’s grinning tremendously, the warmth from his smile outdoing the heat from the fire in the hearth.

“Really?” he chuckles, “You’d cast aside cheesebuns for this person? Are we talking about the same Katniss here?”

Now I’m laughing as well, shaking my head once more before heaving my rotund form off my perch, readying myself to saunter towards the kitchen.

“Guess I love him a bit more than his baking. Only a bit though.”

Again, Peeta laughs, a joyous, wonderful sound that brings me to the same level.

“Hmm, sounds about right,” he snorts, “Well, if not a cheesebun, he definitely has a kiss with your name on it.”

My heart flips, absentmindedly licking my lips as I picture his offer. Despite the aches and pains coursing through my body from being late into term, I begin to waddle my way towards the lovely enticements in the kitchen.

“He sounds cheesier than what he’s making,” I say, a blush dusting across my cheeks as I add, “Guess that’s why I love him more.”

“I’m going to cut this third person thing we have going only to say that I love you too.”

I blush even harder, and am just a few waddles away from entering the kitchen, a few waddles away from collapsing into my husband’s embrace, when my jinxing words decide to catch up with me.

Because the morning does indeed shift. Not with anything bad, per say, but with something very unexpected; a series of knocks sounds from our front door.

The warmth surging through me is quick to shift to the opposite, every part of me freezing. I try not to grow anxious, but it’s difficult not to. Though mysterious visitors are often just Haymitch, or Sae, or even Hazelle, some deep recess of my mind always worries about it being someone from the Capitol.

Especially now, with a pure little unscathed life growing deep within me.

What if they’re here to take Peeta and I back on some twisted Victors’ Tour. What if they’re here to reap us into a new set of Games. What if they’re here to take my child, our child, away, leading it to death before I could even ease it into life...

I hadn’t even realized I had been shivering with quick breaths until Peeta’s voice sounds to ground me.

“Katniss?” he asks, his tone a strong whisper, “Who-”

The knocks persist, cutting us both off. My anxiety hikes up, my arms subconsciously wrapping around my stomach. I take steps away from the outside world, visions rolling dark throughout my head.

“I...I can’t...” I wheeze, silently begging my husband for help. He understands almost immediately, our closeness seemingly connecting our minds.

“It’s alright,” he murmurs, his voice soothing, though I think I can hear a hint of concern, “It’s alright, Katniss. Let me just clean my hands off and then I’ll answ-”

Once more, we’re cut off. This time though, not from knocks. This time, it’s from my name, my name being uttered from someone different than Peeta.

“Katniss?”

I didn’t think it was possible to freeze more. But I do, every ounce of me locking up at the voice on the other side of the wood. It sounds incredibly strange, but all too familiar. Absolutely awful, but oddly wonderful all the same. 

Following along with the contrasts, my body remains rigidly still, all except for my arm, which slowly and cautiously reaches for the door’s handle. I don’t know what or who I’m expecting to see. I don’t know what to expect. But when I hear a soft, “I know you’re in there,” I’m able to summon enough strength to breech the final barrier between myself and the “stranger.”

Although it’s definitely not a stranger. And it’s not Sae, or Haymitch, or anyone from the Capitol. And I’m not sure if it’s way better than seeing a Peacekeeper at our door, or far worse.

Talk about locking up; I go utterly cold. My eyes turn wild, my mouth hangs agape, my grip on the door runs iron. And once more, my body and mind go to war, leaving me awkwardly hanging in the middle, unsure of what to do, unsure of how to react.

Part of me wants to start sobbing, crying at the notion of something returning from the dead. Part of me wants to slam the door, to forget I ever saw the person standing before me. Part of me wants to scream until my voice runs raw, shrieking my pain from the past few years.

Instead, I’m left doing absolutely nothing, simply staring in complete shock. 

The inner battle within me continues, and a reaction birthed from pure instinct presents itself. Vile things form on the tip of my tongue, anger being the first to pull ahead in my internal fight. But, just as fast, my heart is quick to douse the flames, preventing anything from being said.

It’s quite the brawl, between body and spirit. Before a side can come out on top though, before I can truly react, truly process, I hear shuffling behind me. Then, comes the voice the eases my soul, but unfortunately leaves me more aware of reality.

“Katniss? Who’s at the...”

Much be pretty extraordinary if Peeta finds himself speechless too.

We all remain in a tense, uncomfortable silence for a beat. But of course, my husband is the one to cut through. Amicable and wonderful as always, even in a situation like this. So I’m not surprised at all to feel him slide up behind me, his presence warm and welcoming.

And with a composure I wish I had, I watch as he extends a hand in greeting to the man before us, followed by the name I’ve tried not to think about in years.

“Gale...” Peeta murmurs, “It’s...a surprise to see you back in Twelve!”

Gale.

I’m not sure whether I want to vomit, smile, or dart back into the house.

But with my husband behind me, and the initial shock wearing off, I settle on actually looking at him, actually taking him in.

He looks so incredibly similar to how he did when we parted. I’m not sure how that’s even possible; it’s been years. I guess the only difference would be that he looks fitter, more composed. Like the kind of person who should be working in District Two.

But I can still see the familiarity in his grey eyes, the concentration in his gaze that I saw so often when we were hunting. Now, instead of using it to figure out snares and traps, I watch as it washes over my form. My very vulnerable, very pregnant form. It seems to settle on my stomach, his brow furrowing just enough to rouse a reaction from me.

I suddenly feel incredibly self-conscious, judged, and uncomfortable. I can’t imagine he’s not sneering at the fact that I’m pregnant with another man’s child, scowling in jealousy like he did not too long ago.

Bile rises in my throat, and I cast my gaze downwards, shutting myself out from the situation. The only thing I choose to focus on is my husband, inhaling his therapeutic cinnamon and dill scent, relishing in the warmth of his body pressed against mine.

The small ounce of my conscious paying attention braces for the usual snarky comment from Gale. But strangely enough, he simply returns my husband’s greeting, shaking Peeta’s hand back.

“Peeta. Yeah it’s...definitely been a while.”

His voice even sounds similar. Strong, authoritative, steady. It takes me back to the better times between us, but of course, it also takes me back to the terrible. I feel my throat tighten further, and I still find myself unable to look at him. Instead, I lean back to seek the same comfort I’ve been receiving all these years, my own true solace.

Peeta’s quick to deliver, slipping his hand around my hip when he retracts it from Gale’s, holding me close. I can’t tell if his arm around me is a protective or a possessive gesture. Either way, it does its intended purpose, soothing me and ironing out the high peaks of anxiety.

“How have you been doing?” Peeta asks, thankfully keeping the awkward silences somewhat at bay.

“Ahh, pretty good. Keeping busy in Two.”

The mention of Gale’s job, his life, causes me to shiver slightly. Though Peeta tightens his grip around me, every ounce of his warmth pouring into my veins, my nerves continue to wave. I want nothing more than to bury my face in Peeta’s chest, to hide myself away from all of this. Even though it’s not much, simply catching up and exchanging pleasantries, it’s...more than overwhelming. I wasn’t ready for this. I want to go back to the regular, gentle day we were having, go back to focusing on my life and the life I’m preparing to welcome.

But, Gale being stubborn and Peeta being more than polite, neither give me that option, continuing to converse.

“...Take it things are going well for the two of you?”

Even after all these years, I think I can recognize that tone. Seemingly well intended, but laced with jealousy and negativity. Does nothing but make my urge to flee stronger, my trembles more intense.

Peeta begins to softly caress my hip, my lower back, rubbing tender circles as he carries on with the conversation.

“Yeah. We’re slowly starting to rebuild. Opened the bakery back up, and the forest continues to provide. Life’s been...getting back to normal really.”

My husband definitely doesn’t disappoint; even if Gale had been making some kind of stab at our relationship, at my pregnancy, Peeta stepped entirely around it. It makes me relax a tad, leaning even further into his touch.

“That’s good to hear. You seem like you’re doing much better,” Gale says.

My relaxation is short lived, tensing back up at Gale’s words. That’s...strange for him to say. Years ago he didn’t want Peeta to get better; him being well was too much competition. And now he’s commenting on my husband’s well being?

“I am, thank you,” Peeta murmurs, before looking down in my direction, “It’s been rocky at times but...We’ve really helped each other through a lot.”

“I can tell.”

Gale pauses for a moment, before taking a breath and continuing in a softer voice, “I’m...glad you two have each other.”

Now there’s a silence that even Peeta can’t mend, the both of us stunned at such a different character. I raise my head slightly, though still not looking Gale in the eyes, confusion surging in to mix with the nerves. Almost as if on cue, Gale inhales before breaking through.

“Guess you’re wondering why I’m at your front door?”

It’s like Peeta suddenly becomes fully aware of his surroundings; I guess Gale showing up was enough to shock him into greying out as well. He tenses slightly, looking down at me, back to Gale, and then down at me again, his mouth flopping a few times. I hear him swallow hard, before he releases with a sigh, almost like he was fighting something as well.

“Oh, sorry; would you like to come in out of the rain?”

“Yeah, thanks. Not quite used to this weather anymore.”

The two share a good-natured chuckle, keeping the atmosphere cordial. But, cordial as it may be, and as friendly as my husband is, it doesn’t stop my vision from nearly blacking out. There’s something about inviting Gale into our household that almost makes the contents of my stomach reappear onto our porch. Maybe because inviting him in almost feels like letting him back into my life, neither of which I’m ready for at all.

I can barely handle my pregnancy, can barely handle my past nightmares. How the hell am I expected to handle an individual who carries such immense weight with him, who’s left such a hefty scar across my body?

My form signals to me that I’ve had enough, and before either of them can say anything more, I tear myself away. I move the fastest I have in weeks, practically ignoring the added weight in my abdomen as I glide across the cold floor. I’m quick to find a bathroom, and I barely have time to sink in front of the toilet before the retching begins.

I cough harshly, tears streaming down my face as I fiercely grip the porcelain. Nothing comes up, but my body continues to react, heaving all the while. A scream builds up in my throat, but it comes out as a gag, dampened by all my rampant emotions.

There I remain until both physical and mental exhaustion kick in, my entire form slumping downwards. I wheeze, breathing heavily as I claw my way across the floor, easing myself to the bathroom door. I prop myself against it, leaning on it as I rake my hands across my face, tears still a plenty.

I expect to be reduced to sobs, or screams, but I find that I’m numb instead. I’m motionless, remaining against the doorway, now impervious to the conversation on the other end. I have no choice but to listen in, to be subjected to whatever is so important.

I wait for Gale to drop some big news, some kind of something from the likes of District Two. But instead, the conversation between he and Peeta continues to sound entirely casual.

“Did you want anything to drink? Or eat?” I hear Peeta ask.

“No, I’m good, but thanks,” Gale replies.

I hear them pass through the house, the two of them heading to either the living room or the kitchen. They probably think they’re out of ear shot, or that I’m not listening. They’d be wrong; I’m entirely attuned.

There’s another awkward beat, one silent enough for me to hear my heart pounding in my ears. This time, Gale’s surprisingly the one to break it, with something rather unexpected.

“...So when’s the baby coming?”

I feel my fists tighten on their own accord, an ember of anger alighting within me. It may have been a perfectly innocent question once again, but it reeks of envy and bitterness.

Thankfully, my husband’s warmth combats the negative fire; I can almost feel the heat of his smile as he gingerly answers.

“In a few weeks, we think. That’s what the doctor keeps telling us anyway.”

“You excited?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Peeta chuckles softly, “I’ve wanted to be a Dad for...a while.”

Picturing the look on my husband’s face and hearing his current contentment soothes me, my form easing a bit against the door. But because fire is here to combat my own, Gale speaking gets me tensing right back up again.

“And Katniss?”

I clench my jaw, my hands lacing protectively across my stomach. I’m half-tempted to burst out, to hiss at him to leave and stop questioning my growing family. But I still find myself locked up, Peeta tenderly speaking for me.

“She’s alright,” he murmurs after a breath, “She’s been scared of course.”

I tense further, wishing I had a knife to throw if Gale dares to make some kind of snide comment towards my husband, something about him not helping me properly or me not being ready. Once again, he surprises me, simply remaining silent and allowing Peeta to continue.

“But...I think she’s excited too. She already talks to the baby a lot, and I’ll catch her singing lullabies on the occasion.”

I hear Peeta chuckle gently, before he adds, “She’s going to be a wonderful mother.”

It’s astounding how well and how quickly Peeta can bring me back down, tension sapping from a body with a ghost of a smile to match. I blow out a soft breath, tenderly starting to rub my stomach, only to freeze when another voice interjects.

“...Yeah. She will,” Gale agrees.

That sort of melancholy-laced tone takes me back to when I was so confused, to when I didn’t know what to do with myself or how I was feeling. I expect it to trigger those same awful feelings of guilt, my throat tightening in preparation.

I’m pleased when nothing of the sort arises.

Because no, there’s absolutely no questioning it now. The baby growing within me is Peeta’s. And the heart pounding in my chest belongs to him as well. It’s something that Gale has absolutely no place in wiggling himself into now. It never was. So why the hell is he-

“Guess you’re wondering why I showed up here?”

I inhale sharply; guess he’s answering my question is more like it.

“Kind of,” Peeta admits.

“I came to Twelve for inspections. Decided to come here, kind of at the last minute. Partly because...”

He pauses with an exhale, and I’m barely breathing myself as he continues.

“Peeta, I wanted to apologize. And to thank you.”

It’s like everything in Twelve comes screeching to a halt. Nothing’s audible except for the rain just barely pittering outside, and my breaths puffing out in perplexed bursts. I sit up a bit, needing to shake my head and inwardly ask myself if that was real. Very out of character from what I’m used to, from what I’d expect from him.

Peeta must be on the same wavelength, his question just as soft as the raindrops on the window.

“...Pardon?”

I hear Gale take another breath, his voice taking an oddly soft tone as well.

“You’ve really taken care of each other. I can see that in the short time I’ve been here. But the way you’ve cared for Katniss...I never could’ve...”

He trails off, swallowing the old longing. I can feel myself scowling at the thought of his old self punching through whatever thing he has going now. Peeta must be making some kind of furrowed expression too, because Gale is quick to keep explaining.

“She was my best friend. And I cared about her a lot. Still do.”

I think I can feel my heart twang within my chest. Before I can think about that too much though, the flickering fire of annoyance within comes to the rescue.

“But I was just too wrapped up in myself,” Gale says, sighing, “Too wrapped up in the war. I don’t know. I didn’t pay attention to her as much as I should’ve. I didn’t realize what she wanted, didn’t know what she needed.”

He takes another deep breath.

“Obviously it was you. And I shouldn’t have fought against that as hard as I did.”

I can’t help but nod slightly against the door. Despite my distrust for him though, and the situation, I find myself continuing to listen intently.

“After the rebellion I was worried she’d never heal but...Here she is with you, alive, happy...pregnant...”

Almost as if on cue, the baby stirs softly, and I go back to rubbing my stomach. I can feel the tension levels easing down, only slightly, but still.

“Thank you for giving her this life. For being there for her. Trying to wedge myself between that was...inexcusable. I’m sorry.”

I’m surprised to feel my breath catch, and I lean my head back, looking towards the ceiling as I contemplate things, as I process. Where did this all come from? I never would have expected anything of the sort from him. The last time we saw each other, I was perfectly content on never seeing him ever again. And now he’s here, in my house, apologizing to my husband?

I shake my head again, scowling. Damn Gale. I guess I wasn’t safe from the confusion he inflicts after all.

Admittedly though, this...is far more welcomed. He’s perplexing, but not in the way I was so accustomed to years ago. 

I am still annoyed with him though, for making me attempt to figure it out.

There’s another pause, less awkward this time. Peeta must be trying to process things too. I hear him heave a gentle sigh, before he speaks up again.

“You loved her. You didn’t know what to do. We both didn’t.”

It’s the first time throughout this exchange that my husband’s words have made my throat tighten. I find myself worrying my bottom lip, knowing it’s the truth but hating to hear it.

Following the pattern of oddity, Gale gives a sort snort.

 “No, if I really loved her I wouldn’t have acted how I did. To either of you.”

The sigh that departs from deep within my lungs syncs up perfectly with Peeta’s.

“Don’t worry about it,” he murmurs, “It’s in the past now.”

“...You can’t speak for Katniss though.”

“No,” Peeta agrees, “I can’t.”

And he’s right. He can’t. Peeta understands me like no one else does, but I don’t even think he can figure out the complexity of what all I’m feeling right now. For the record, I don’t think I can either.

I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t want this. Things have already been so crazy lately. I didn’t need more wounds from my past to reopen.

And I don’t want to forgive him.

But I feel...eased. I feel slightly lifted. It’s equivalent to putting a bandaid on a scar, sure. Doesn’t erase the fact that the scar is still there. But...it still feels oddly better than having the scar ugly and untreated.

Before I can get too wrapped up in my thoughts, Peeta’s gentle and sincere voice breaks through.

“...Thank you though, Gale. I appreciate the apology.”

Some kind of movement is audible, and I imagine the two are shaking hands again. If anything, I guess I’m glad that Gale and Peeta are on better terms.

But where does that leave me.

It’s like they read my mind, my energy, directing their conversation my way after another pause.

“Should...we check on her?” Gale asks.

Peeta replies with a long breath, before audibly answering.

“I think...she just needs some time. This was all very sudden. Guess anything else will have to happen on her terms.”

I love you, Peeta.

I let out a shaky breath, feeling Gale’s tension before he relents.

“Right. Sorry for showing up with no notice.”

“It’s alright,” Peeta murmurs, letting out a huff of mirth, “Definitely took us by surprise though.”

They both share a strained, quiet laugh, before things go quiet. There’s the awkwardness again, like neither of them are sure where to proceed. They both know they can’t force me out. So after a few more pauses, Gale backs off with a sigh.

“Alright. Well, good seeing you, Peeta,” he says, “Take care of yourself.”

“You too. Safe travels.”

More pauses, before I hear a pair of departing footsteps, followed by another. I recognize the heavier tread of my husband, sounding like it’s slowly departing off towards the kitchen again. Gale sounds closer, likely heading for the front door.

And that’s when I feel completely strange. That’s when all the swirling emotions take hold. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know is about to take place. But I find myself standing up and bursting through the door, tearing back through the house.

I round a corner, and freeze at the sight of him. His back is turned to me as he collects his things, but he raises his head and stills at my approach. I thought I had been silent on my feet, but I guess my pregnancy makes my footsteps a bit harder. That, or his hunting background must still be evident despite years in District Two.

Either way, I inwardly curse, and consider darting away before he can say anything.

I find that I’m still locked into place though. And he beats me to it anyway.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me.”

Him talking to Peeta was easy to stomach. But for some reason, him talking to me after so long instantly makes me defensive, a scowl hardening my features with building nasty words to match.

“I wouldn’t forgive me either,” he continues, still turned away from me, “But I have to apologize to you anyway.”

I feel myself trembling, close to bolting or yelling, I’m not sure which. Again, he doesn’t give the luxury of deciding. He instead turns to face me, our grey eyes connecting in a strange hold. It’s very quick to make me feel nauseous, the whole thing a bit much to handle. I don’t know why I chased him in the first place.

I want Peeta. I want to go back into hiding. I want...

“Katniss...” he says, his voice saddened and just barely above a whisper.

My nostrils flare, numerous responses attempting to surface but failing. He takes it as a cue to go on.

“Will you at least listen to what I have to say?”

My body tenses up, like a cat arching its spine. I don’t say yes, but I don’t say no either. That leaves us in a strange limbo for a bit, with Gale being the one to venture out of it.

“I was bent out of shape. I was too caught up in my own interests. So caught up that I forgot how to treat you as my best friend. Hardly anything else mattered.”

I’m heaving shaky breaths, feeling a glassy, angry sheen form at the bottom of my eyes.

“It wasn’t right of me at all. It won me the battle I was fighting but at what cost.”

I watch as he swallows hard, his expression dropping further.

“Katniss, I’m so sorry about...”

He chokes on his apology, unable to finish. I know what he’s referring to though. The thought is enough to break the glass, a single, hot tear rolling down my cheek. I want so badly to swipe it away, but I’m completely motionless.

At this, he seems to droop, pain clearly reading across his face.

“I’m sorry...”

I close my eyes, trying not to think too hard about anything. I attempt to shut it out, reverting to hardness as I always have.

“We’ve been here before, Gale,” I say, my tone cold but catching slightly at the utterance of his name.

“I know. And nothing I can say will fix it.”

“No.” 

He heaves a shaky breath himself, and switches course away from that awful topic.

“So, I guess I’ll just say that...I’m so happy for you.”

This is enough to bring my eyes back into view, and I’m stunned to see him wearing a sad smile.

“I never would have been able to say this years ago. But really, I’m happy you’re here, with Peeta. He...really cares about you. And it’s good to see that you’re happy too. That you love him.”

I blink slowly, instinctively resting my hands atop my stomach at the talk of my husband, the talk of love.

“That’s all I could have wanted. You to be happy and safe. And he’s done that for you. All that and more. I’m glad, Katniss. I really am.”

I don’t want to believe him. I don’t want to believe any of this. But his expression, his voice...It all seems so oddly genuine. I mean, why would he show up here to say all of this if he didn’t really mean it?

My breath catches, and I blow it out slowly, beginning to shift my hands across the strained fabric of my shirt, comforting myself. I nearly stop when I see Gale’s gaze momentarily flit down to my stomach, but it’s too quick of a glance.

“Seeing you...like this...I know everything’s just right for you. And that he was right all along.”

“It is. He is.”

I of course expect him to sulk, but he simply nods, continuing to gently smile.

“I think I can breathe easier now, that’s for sure.”

I fall slightly agape, unable to hide the perplexity swirling around my subconscious.

“Why...do you...”

“Care?” he finishes for me.

When I give a slight nod, he continues, “Spending time away from home made me reflect I guess. It’s weird being there without really knowing anyone. It’s weird not being able to hunt.”

It’s his turn to look away, his eyes flitting down for a moment before reconnecting with mine.

“...I’ve missed you, Katniss.”

It’s back to me looking away, my throat tightening up as well. I can feel his gaze on me, and lets out a mirthless puff of air.

“Know that’s probably not mutual.”

I’m about to start scowling at what sounds like a guilt trip, but he sweeps away my building annoyance.

“Which is okay. And...understandable,” he huffs.

Another awkward beat, the two of us shifting on our feet. Of course Gale is the one to cut it, his voice the gentlest it’s been this entire time.

“I just had to apologize. Get that all off my chest. I owed it to both you and Peeta for too long. I really am sorry, Katniss. For everything.”

When I don’t respond, hanging my head as moisture settles in my eyes again, he lets out another sigh. 

I won’t forgive him. I can’t forgive him. But I can at least...accept this, accept what he’s said. I can at least acknowledge that I appreciate his strange shift in mindsets.

Not with words though, of course. Not by saying something. So, almost as if on their own accord, my feet are carrying me towards him, closing our proximity for the first time in nearly a decade. I barely have the time to register his shocked expression before I’m against him, as best as my rotund stomach will allow.

The feeling of him against me, the ashen scent that floods my nose, is almost enough to make me gag, to make me think that this was a mistake. I’ve gotten accustomed to speaking through physical gestures. But with him, with Gale...

I tense, my breath speeding up considerably. But when he slowly and hesitantly completes the embrace, when his arms come around me...

There’s an absence of warmth, yes. But the familiarity, the promise of sincerity in his apology...

One or two tears manage to break free, streaming down my cheeks and signalling a breach in my composure. I have to break away before I let my emotions get the best of me. I guess after all of these years, after everything that happened, I still can’t let him see me cry. So I tug back against his hug, breaking it and avoiding his gaze.

“You and Peeta take care of yourselves,” he murmurs, finally signalling his departure.

I nod softly, starting to fidget with the bottom of my shirt.

“And...congratulations,” he says; I can see him nod towards my stomach out of the corner of my eye, “I can’t believe you’re about to become a mother...”

Again, I nod, my lip trembling ever so slightly.

There’s another pause, and then he murmurs his departing words.

“Good seeing you, Catnip...”

I heave at the utterance of the old nickname, finally looking at him again. He gives me one last saddened smile, before slowly turning back towards the door. He opens it, and is quick to venture out into the rainy weather, his form disappearing into the mists of Twelve like a shadowy apparition, like he was never even here.

I walk out onto the porch after he goes, before stepping into the gentle rain myself. I need it to stay in touch with reality. I need it to make sure that wasn’t some weird dream.

My grey gaze travels skyward towards the matching clouds, allowing the cold droplets to splash across my face. It feels cleansing, therapeutic.

Kind of like...the whole exchange that was just had. Cold, could be considered unpleasant even, but...perhaps needed. Cathartic.

Like some kind of weird closure to something that was so painful.

I open my eyes and lower my head, blinking away the tears and rain. I suddenly feel chilled out in the deluge, after such a conversation, needing warmth like nothing else. I spin on my heels and dart back into the house, seeking the only person who can give me that.

“...Peeta?” I call, though it comes out more like a whimper, my composure swaying dangerously.

“In here, love,” he tenderly replies.

I follow his voice into the living room to find him sitting on the couch in front of the roaring fire, a fresh plate of cheesebuns on the coffee table beside him. He’s wrapped in a blanket, and as grey meets soft blue, he holds it open in an invitation, one I don’t hesitate in taking.

In mere seconds I’m against him, burying my face into his neck, into everything that he is. And as he wraps half of the blanket around me, as he nuzzles me and peppers me with comforting kisses, all the crazy emotions that had been boiling up in me surface.

I cry. I sob. I wheeze my tears against my husband until I can barely breathe. He’s extraordinarily patient with me throughout, letting me get it out and not saying a word, simply stroking my hair or giving me soft kisses.

When I’ve exhausted myself, when I’ve drained myself of feeling, I sniffle and reveal my face again, snuggling further against Peeta. He of course is aware of the shift, and wraps his arms around me in a loving embrace.

“Hey...” he whispers, pressing his lips against my forehead, “You okay?”

“I...I think so...” I whisper back, my chest continuing to shiver with the occasional sob.

Peeta nods slowly, and continues to caress and kiss me. I have to give him credit; he doesn’t pry, doesn’t ask any questions about what happened. He puts the conversation entirely in my hands, only discussing what I feel comfortable with.

I allow the shivers coursing through my system to lessen, the fire and rain to soothe, and my husband to nurture, before I softly speak up again.

“He tried to apologize before...”

Peeta stops peppering me with his lips only to lean back a tad, listening intently to my soft explanation.

“After...after Prim...”

Her name comes out as a croak, which gets me another gentle kiss to the cheek before my husband leans back once more.

“I couldn’t forgive him then. Still couldn’t now.”

I can see Peeta’s mouth slightly tighten out of the corner of my eye, but he doesn’t say anything, simply nodding.

“I don’t know though...Something felt...different today...Better...”

“Yeah?” Peeta murmurs.

“Yeah...I don’t know. Maybe I’m just wrapped up in how unexpected it was...And weird...”

My husband lets out a puff of mirth, his hand softly drifting across my shoulder, rubbing gentle caresses

“It was...pretty weird, admittedly,” he agrees with a chuckle, before his voice runs serious again, “But...I think it was a good thing...”

I nod slowly, simply gazing towards the fire as I think things over. The flames have lessened a bit, not crackling and popping as strongly. Just like Gale; his flames seemed to have died down too. Neither are as aggressive anymore, as overpowering. That’s definitely not a bad thing at all.

A soft sigh huffs from my nose. I wonder if he’s ever going to stop by again. I don’t think I’d be affected if he didn’t. But I also don’t think I’d be full of hatred if he did.

Strange. I didn’t expect to make some sort of semblance of peace with so many things today. Everything really does seem to be easing into harmony, into gentleness.

“What about you?” I finally murmur into the comfortable silence.

“Hmm?”

“How’re you feeling about it?”

“Oh,” Peeta replies with a puff of soft laughter, “Ah, about the same as you I guess. Weirded out.”

I return the huff of laughter, and my husband chuckles more before continuing.

“I just...never expected him to show me gratitude.”

“Or apologize.”

“Oh, you heard?”

I nod, my voice dropping a tad in pitch, protectiveness and possessiveness swirling throughout.

“About time he actually showed you proper respect and appreciation.”

My sudden seriousness must take Peeta by surprise, because he halts his caresses and movements. When he gets a load of my scowl though, my grumpiness, he lets out another soft huff, his facial expression melting back into tenderness.

“I appreciate your concern, but I don’t really matter in this, sweetheart. What’s more important to me is that he showed that respect to you.”

“No, he needed to understand how much I love you, Peeta. How much you mean to me. I don’t think he does entirely, don’t think anyone does. At least he has a better idea now.”

Again, I’ve stunned my husband. Only this time, I can see a wonderful, shy smile slowly stretching his features. It reminds me of the smile he gave me when I thanked him for the pearl, or the smile he gave me when I first told him I loved him.

He hangs his head a bit, letting out a soft laugh.

“You’re...incredible, you know that?”

I feel my scowl shifting towards a smile now as well, shaking my head at his compliment.

“Alright. Well, how about we say that...it was good for both of us, and that I love you to the point where I can’t properly express it myself,” he murmurs.

“Hmm...Guess I’ll have to settle for that.”

This time when Peeta laughs, I’m unable to stop myself from doing so too. And I finally turn to look at him for the first time since sitting down, as he’s actually the person I can give a proper physical gesture to.

“Peeta?”

“Hmm?”

I take a moment to appreciate his tender stare, his striking features, his ever growing smile when our eyes meet. I cannot help but smile softly in return, my tone growing lighter.

“There’s...a kiss with your name on it...”

The way his face manages to light up even more, even brighter than the embers beside us, melts my heart.

We kiss and embrace until we run hotter than the fire, until the cheesebuns beside us run cold. We caress until the cold dampness still clinging to my skin shifts elsewhere, until the possessiveness really wants to take over. We ravish each other until we drown out the rain pounding on the roof, until we give each other all the love and appreciation we can offer.

Later, we lay in bed as both us and the evening weather cool down, our bare bodies tangled and our hands laced across our precious one nestled within me. Mental and physical exhaustion set in as I nestle closer to Peeta, lazily peppering him with kisses. But after everything, after such an odd turn of events...I feel whole.

My week had started with mounting worry, with growing fear. And now, it’s ending with heightening peace, with easing tension. It’s ending with things tying up in strange, lovely little knots. It’d ending with more of a focus on what’s ahead, less of what’s behind us.

In the loving arms of my husband, I don’t have any nightmares. And with the apologies still hanging in my conscious, my scars hurt a little less.

[jasperwhitcock]

another twilight character tag game

by @sweetrosaliebahbahbah​ – “pick 5-10 characters and write your take on the canon version of them vs. fanon version of them. fanon doesn’t have to be what is generally accepted in the fandom, it can be your own idea of what you think a character is like. then tag the same number of people as characters you pick, if you can.”

i was tagged by @leahclearwaterdefensesquad​ & @witchyangela​

bella swan:

i loved a lot of bella’s strength, stubbornness, and resilience in canon. i think what i love most about bella is that she’s normal. the reason why is that unintentionally on smeyer’s part, to ME she becomes a great example of what feminism is about. it’s about fighting for women to have the same opportunities to make choices. i think that the societal hatred towards bella from everyone (women included) is a great teaching point. because why is it that a normal young woman is considered weak? i’ve said it before, but female characters have to be unnaturally talented and strong to the extreme in order to be respected and accepted in pop culture. because bella isn’t a brilliant witch like hermione or an inspiring archer like katniss, she receives criticism that she’s weak, antifeminist, and boring. and what that tells little girls is that when you are normal, when you are sensitive, when you are loving, when you are sacrificial, when you are not physically strong, when you make choices in favor of love, you are not enough. bella has always made her own choices, and ultimately that’s what we should be celebrating as feminists. we should celebrate the right to make choices no matter what the choices may be, and fight for the women who don’t have the luxury of making choices.

also.... i love how we have amplified some of her traits to make her into this chaotic, adrenaline junkie who can finally let loose and enjoy life since she had to mature so young.

i just read through what i wrote on this and realized i essentially agree with kate lol! i’m saying basically the same thing! when you copy somebody else’s homework but change it up a little bit lmao!

rosalie hale:

i know a lot of people wish that rosalie was allowed to showcase more tenderness, more sweetness, but i like rosalie just as she is. though i don’t love how edward can rudely disregard her in his annoyance towards her, i kind of like the sibling tension of having SO much in common but finding the other so hard to live with. i just wish that we could have seen a fiercer love between edward and rosalie. like nobody pisses me off like you do, but i love you so severely and will always have your back. smeyer stated throughout the books that edward loved rosalie, but we never saw it nor felt it. i honestly wish that rosalie and edward had been closer even with their differences. i think it’d have been a much more interesting dynamic if rosalie and edward were very close before bella, but because of rosalie’s frustration at edward’s willingness to jeopardize and alter bella’s human life, they’re distant throughout the series but it eventually becomes resolved once it’s clear that it’s bella’s choice to join the cullens. i still think it was possible for rosalie to have no desire to be around bella and still have that awkward conflict of one of the cullens not loving her/accepting her, but rather than having the reason why be superficial, make the reason be that rosalie feels the way she does out of concern for bella. it’d just be far more complex if rosalie cared so much for this human girl that she didn’t even know that she becomes unwilling to allow herself to love the girl as much as her siblings do because she couldn’t bear it if their involvement in bella’s life resulted negatively for bella. like imagine the shock of that convo bella and rosalie have in eclipse if it involved rosalie revealing that she doesn’t dislike bella, but rather she actually loves bella despite herself and that’s why she’s so against bella being in their lives. because she doesn’t want edward to do what carlisle unintentionally did to her. she doesn’t want edward to steal bella’s humanity and thinks it’s unfair and unforgivable for him to have even given her the unnatural option of immortality. and this isn’t so that everybody would love bella for bella’s sake, but the alternative reason provided by smeyer is just so cheap. jealousy is natural, but it’s kind of silly for that to be the source of rosalie’s aversion. and when it’s one of the only intimate moments we have of rosalie, it provides so little depth.

leah clearwater:

some of what i’m about to say applies to rosalie as well, but it especially applies to leah which is why i chose to make the point under her name.

i have massive respect for anyone who decides to be the bitch. and no, this doesn’t apply to people who use being “blunt and real” as an excuse to be mean. i mean the people that are honest knowing that they will be disliked for it. and this respect extends especially towards women. the thing is, leah was stripped of so many choices by smeyer. while i appreciate the idea of the complication of a female wolf amongst a pack that has been all male for generations, smeyer robbed leah of her “womanhood,” her femininity, the privacy of her thoughts, the privacy of her naked appearance, her relationship, etc. and there was no consolation. but in the choices leah makes, it reveals a lot about her strength. she knows she could make life for the boys in the pack easier by being “kinder,” quieter, less “wounded,” etc. but she allows herself to be bitter because that’s the validity of her feelings. why deny herself the truth for the sake of being liked & making life easier for everyone else? she’s honest about her thoughts and feelings even when they’re not unwillingly broadcasted no matter the cost. she chooses to leave sam’s pack when it’s clear that it could be a better path for her, no matter how it hurts sam. i’ve talked about this with a few people, but it is not easy to be authentic the way leah is. particularly when you’re the only woman in a group of boys too. because whether it’s conscious or subconscious in their minds, every action of yours will reflect on their feelings towards women and every stereotype of what a woman should be will be reflected onto their feelings towards you. there is added pressure on your choices and behavior. they will be interpreted differently in a way that men’s choices aren’t. but again, leah doesn’t water herself down. she doesn’t soften the impact of her words. she doesn’t cheapen her feelings for anyone else’s sake. she chooses to be real even though she knows it will make her less “likable.” smeyer wanted leah to be the bitch so bad. but leah is not the bitch, leah is THAT BITCH.

also on the topic of leah’s womanhood... it’s fucked up. it was unneccessary & illogical when the male wolves can have children. there’s so much that can be said, but i do want to say that it’s not racist to give your POC characters hardships and “flaws” (i hate to use this word concerning this particular point but this is what smeyer treated it as), but when you offer those characters NO CONSOLATION but you give consolation to your white characters (rosalie finds happiness in emmett, renesmee, and her family).... then IT’S RACIST. it was also awful because when you make a character potentially barren, feel like less of a woman because of the fact, and simply leave it at wow, this is horrible, it suggests that women who can’t bear children or don’t want to are less of a woman. my points are kind of going all over the place now, but when leah and jacob had the conversation of leah feeling like less of a woman because of the implications of becoming a wolf and losing her period, it was wrong that smeyer didn’t have jacob or somebody tell her that her femininity isn’t tied to her period, to pregnancy, to childbirth, to anything. she is no less female or feminine just because she’s a wolf. the fact leah wasn’t given ANY resolution is inexcusable.

so i guess what i wish for leah is more CHOICES and RESOLUTION and CONSOLATION. i don’t even have ideas for the specificity of the choices because i just wish leah herself could make decisions for what her life looks like and what she wants. i just really wish she could have found some comfort and solace that she’s still feminine regardless of the transformation she went through. and that whether or not it’s true she can’t have children, there are other options if she makes the decision that that’s something she wants. and if she doesn’t want that, that’s okay too. she’s still a woman. there’s no criteria.

i was going to make a point for sue too, but i just exerted so much energy mentally on my last point lmao... so i’m cheating & leaving it off at three characters! maybe one day i can make a post on my thoughts on sue and some of the other women of the saga.

i tag @bellaskhakis @edytheelizabethcullen @howlonghaveyoubeenseventeen @bellasredchevy

[electronicyarn]

NOT Live Blogging RWBY Vol. 7

Guess who has two thumbs and finally finished watching RWBY Volume 7? This gal! So I decided I’d post my thoughts on the volume. I’m kind of disappointed I didn’t get to properly live blog it, but I guess right now this is the best I can do.

(So is…is tumblr still a thing? Or has whatever company that owns it now finally run the site completely into the ground. Maybe the question I should be asking is: does anyone still follow my blog?)

I think in the interest of not rambling too wildly I’m going to organize my thoughts into broad categories. So, here we go.

Visuals

If nothing else, this volume was a feast for the eyes. I’m impressed that RWBY continues to noticeably improve its visuals with each Volume. Honestly, at this point I don’t see the need for further improvement. The character models are appropriately stylized, the backgrounds are gorgeous, and the last of the kinks have (finally) been worked out of the animation.

What I’m less enthused about is the costume design. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not bad. It’s just not great. Penny’s new design works. Ruby’s outfit is virtually identical to her last one, so she gets a pass. Weiss’s is close, oh so close. I like the basic design, but I think the colors needed some more tweaking. Blake’s outfit is…. Well, I don’t know. I think I’m going to call it mildly nonsensical. I’m digging the haircut though. (Same goes for Jaune!) Yang and Neo’s new clothes are so-so at best, and Cinder’s are downright awful. Strangely enough, it’s Team JN_R that wins the best-dressed award in my book. They’re new outfits look far better than Weiss’s, Blake’s, and Yang’s by a mile.

I guess I should count my blessings. After Neo and Cinder’s new outfits debuted at the end of Volume 6 I was afraid that everyone might end up looking like lampshades. Or maybe fetishists not fully committing to the part.

Story

Up until about Episode 10 I was going to call this volume the good twin to Volume 4’s evil twin. A volume of RWBY that lacked the high-highs and the low-lows that are so endemic of the franchise. The difference between the two being that Volume 4 was painfully mediocre, while Volume 7 was pretty good. But it turns out I was wrong. The entirety of Volume 7 was, in my opinion, nothing more than a build-up to the big finale. And what a finale it was! But maybe I shouldn’t get ahead of myself.

The first episode really won brownie points with me for basically doing the bad part of Volume 6 (Team RWBY spitting in the face of authority) except doing it right. It turns out that authority figures aren’t always “whimsical” caricatures masquerading as antagonists. (Sorry, I really hated Caroline, and not in a good way.) It also turns out that sometimes the authorities aren’t utterly incompetent. In many ways the Ace-Ops arresting Team RWBY reminded me of a less extreme version of the ending of the fourth Hunger Games movie. Specifically the part where Katniss and company decide to storm the castle and utterly fail. You know, the part where the movie transformed from an uninspired parody of itself to the absolute highlight of the entire franchise?

And then a bunch of stuff happened, some of which I’ll discuss in the next section. And then there were some really great fights. Oh yes, and then Salem shows up. Bye-bye Atlas! You. Are. Outta here!

Honestly, the only thing I didn’t much care for story-wise was Penny becoming the new Winter Maiden. It’s not because I don’t like the concept; it’s because it feels like they didn’t put any thought into the idea other than “let’s make Penny the Winter Maiden”. I’ll withhold judgment for now. It’s only fair that I wait and see where they go with it.

Characters

Believe it or not, I don’t have much to say about Team RWBY themselves in this section. Development-wise this volume was almost exclusively focused on other characters. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing, although it wouldn’t be my first choice if I had my druthers. Honestly, Weiss, Blake, and Yang’s character arcs have largely been concluded at this point. Only Ruby’s left with outstanding issues regarding her mother. So…yeah. Maybe that bodes poorly for the franchise’s future now that I think about it? Or at least my own personal enjoyment of it? Eh, I’ll worry about that later. I should talk about all the other characters!

Team JN_R – I was a bit surprised at the lack of Jaune-related content this volume. They didn’t even deign to make him suffer much. But with a cast as big as RWBY’s, it’s not the first time we’ve seen a character take a volume off as it were. The big news here is that they actually attempted to give Ren a character and bring him into conflict with Nora. I…. Well, I don’t really think they succeeded, to be honest. As is a common problem in RWBY, there really wasn’t enough time to let the idea be fully realized. But I appreciate the effort.

The Ace-Ops – Oh, I had these guys pegged as the volume’s final bosses from the get-go. And I was not disappointed. As one-off antagonists, they worked. I can’t remember any of their names though. Except for Clover’s, and I’ll talk about him and Qrow in the section below.

Penny – It’s about time she came back. We all knew that was going to happen, right? And while I’m on the subject, Pietro was a nice side character too.

Oscar – He was there.

Robyn – I’m not sure what to say about her, to be honest. She was a good enough character, and played her role in the story well. But I never felt like she rose above her role.

Neo – You know who my favorite RWBY character is? It’s Yang, obviously. And do you know who the most strongly characterized RWBY character is? It’s the late Roman Torchwick of course. But do you know who takes second place in both of those categories? Neo. Kind of ironic for that second one given that she doesn’t speak. Neo did not disappoint this volume. She never disappoints. And I’ve said it before, on this very blog I think. In terms of raw-skill, Neo is one of the most dangerous characters in the RWBY-verse. Team JN_R vs. Neo? No contest. Although I am amused that Jaune got the only real hit on her. I’m even more amused that it somehow felt appropriate.

Cinder – Again I continue to really like post-Volume 4 Cinder. No matter how hard she tries, the universe just won’t stop kicking her in the teeth. And it just fits her character so well. Bravo Rooster Teeth!

Winter – Winter’s battle might not have been the most fun. That goes to Neo vs. some bush leaguers. It might not have been the most creative. That goes to Team RWBY vs. the Ace-Ops. But by God, no one put in more effort than Winter. She has my utmost respect.

Weiss’s Mom – Hey, she exists! Nice!

Dr. Watts – So much smarm. So much arrogance. I should hate him, but I really don’t. He’s just great.

Ironwood – And the best for last. Oh my. Oh my, oh my, oh my. His arc this volume was absolutely perfect. It was given enough time to be believable, amazing for a show like RWBY, and every step along his journey made sense. He’s become my absolute favorite kind of antagonist, the kind that believes what they’re doing is right. And here’s the thing, I can’t say that Ironwood is wrong. I don’t think he’s right, but I can’t say that he’s wrong. Give me an Ironwood over a Tyrian any day of the week. Please give me an Ironwood over a Tyrian.

The Gay Agenda

*singing* Qrow has a boyfriend….

Er…. Qrow had a boyfriend. And then Clover got Bury Your Gays’d. I’m kind of disappointed, but I’m kind of not. After all, the universe has long since ordained that it is Qrow’s lot in life to suffer.

To tell the truth I’m deeply divided on how I feel about RWBY’s take on the gays. The homoromantic subtext between Yang and Blake has reached levels equivalent to Season 3 of Xena: Warrior Princess. And Qrow and Clover were about there too. On one hand, I’m happily drinking it all up. On the other hand, I want to call Rooster Teeth a bunch of cowards. It’s not 1999 anymore. You can make characters gay. RWBY has made (side) characters gay. At best I’m expecting them to pull a Legend of Korra and only make things “official” at the very end of the show, a resolution I found deeply unsatisfying. But if I were running the show, would I do things differently? Well, yes I would. But would it be the correct decision from a revenue perspective? I’m assuming that RWBY is a, let’s say, important show for Rooster Teeth. I base this assumption on the fact that they announced three RWBY-adjacent spin-offs just after Volume 7 finished. Perhaps they feel they can’t take any risks with something so popular? Perhaps they don’t particularly care. Again, I don’t know how to feel about it.

Conclusion

Homoromanticism aside, (Never!) is Volume 7 the best volume ever? It might be. Only Volumes 1 and 5 can contend with it for consistent high quality. If I had to declare one volume as the best overall, this would probably be it. That being said, I doubt anything will ever supplant the Yang and Blake vs. Adam fight in Volume 6 as my favorite part of RWBY. I still can’t believe they paid that off so well. Three years of anticipation and they fulfilled my every expectation.

Wait, what was I talking about again? Oh yeah. Volume 7. It was good.