#THINGS COULD HAVE BEEN SO SO BETTER IF HE HAD ACTED LIKE PEETA

[sea-owl]

I think if they ever remake the Hunger Games one thing I would want them to add more in is how much of a pair Katniss and Peeta are.

From the beginning, they're basically a package deal. From when they're threatening Haymitch on the train with Peeta throwing the glass, which leads to Katniss and the knife to even how they play off one another when it comes to the star cross lovers act.

Neither of them could have won the games without the other. Peeta, while he had some strengths in the arena, shinned when he played the Capitol. Katniss was the better fighter in the arena, but she needed someone to play off of for social interactions. She would have been quickly forgotten of in that arena if she didn't have Peeta to help keep their story going and her interactions with Rue.

It will make the devastation of them being ripped apart in Mockingjay so much worse. Katniss' other half is gone, and they want her to now play a role that he excells at.

It will also make they're coming back to one another that much sweeter, too. They're a pair, and they're gonna stay that way. Always coming back to one another.

(Also can we agree that if Peeta was in 13 from the start with or without Katniss, he would've taken control out from Coin in like less than two weeks. Peeta Manipulator Mellark everybody, Coin would be shaken in her revolution needing wig)

[derangedchameleon]

Snow‘s attack on Haymitch was incredibly personal.

First of all. Before sotr I was always puzzled as to why the murder of Haymitch‘s entire family was a „nessecary“ reaction to a simple weilding of the force field. What we end up seeing in the recording can easily be seen as an intelligent, ressourceful rascal, making use of all the tools available to him in order to survive, and one of those tools just happened to end up being the arena itself.

Of course we now know that there was MUCH more going on than just the forcefield. But here‘s the important thing. The forcefield is the only bit the public knows about.

Katniss‘ stunt with the berries was much worse. Sure it could be rewritten as a lovecrazy suicide attempt. But I think many people who had watched Katniss could tell that she was a survivor and that she was banking on the Gamemakers stopping them.

Katniss family was not targeted for this. Probably because Snow wanted to keep them alive to keep manipulating Katniss.

So from my pre sotr point of view, why was Haymitch‘s? If the point was to control a rebellious teenager, wouldn‘t it have been better to keep his family alive?

You could argue that this was a message to other victors. But Snow could have chosen any dissentful victor to use as an example. Anyone that refused to let themselves be sold for example.

But then there’s the fact that Haymitch was alive to wield that forcefield in the first place.

Snow promised death in the games to Haymitch. And we know mutts can be programmed for specific people and dying by them can be absolutely horriffying. The mutt deaths in Haymitch‘s games were actually pretty tame and quick compared to what could have been achieved, like with Cato. An alive Haymitch was honestly dangerous, it would have made more sense to take him out early. The longer he was left alive, the more likely it became that he would do something so drastic that the capitol would want to show it on camera, to keep the image of their perfect games. Haymitch‘s stunt with the forcefield was kept in, because if it wasn‘t, it would have been painfully clear that the capitol was covering something up, and they couldn‘t have that. (same with Katniss’ berries, and Snow told her in so many words that, if he had been in the control room during her stunt, she and Peeta would have both been blown sky high. Would have been an effective « don’t mess with the capitol » message) So why didn‘t Snow just send mutts to remove him (painfully and slowly, as promised) after he blew up the water tank?

Because Snow decided, that leaving this boy alive and murdering his family, would be a much worse punishment for him. This had very little to do with controlling the public and everything to do with punishment.

And we know, from Haymitch himself, that this is not something the capitol or Snow usually does. Haymitch tells Katniss after she shoots the apple, that her family was probably fine, since her attack on the gamemakers wasn’t public. And in order for an attack on her family to have any effect, they’d need to make her attack public. If you punish someone, you want that punishment and the cause of it public and known. Again, to controll the masses. Otherwise, it’s wasted effort.

Snow saw that Haymitch, banking on his own inevitable slow and painful death, was not worried about his family. Which told Snow everything about what this boy valued. Haymitch said that he didn’t want his family to have to watch him die slowly, but his actions during the games clearly show that that is not his top priority.

Snow went out of his way to make this as horrifying as humanly possible for Haymitch.

My sister pointed out that Snow went after Haymitch in this personal manner because of his association with the covey. A belated revenge on Lucy Gray. And maybe, Snow even projected Billy Taupe onto Haymitch.

We all knew Snow was evil, but this, I think, is the first time we see him act in such a vengefull and personal way. Yes he enjoyed manipulating Katniss with Peeta’s torture, but that was really because he couldn’t get to her to murder her. Or because a mentally destroyed Mockingjay can’t be turned into a martyr like a dead one.

Snow really got a sick kick out of this.

[situationsoured]

People keep saying Katniss is like the reincarnation of Sejanus, or even Lucy Gray, which I just don’t think is true. If there’s a character in the movie that reminded me of Katniss it was Reaper from District 11. Both had an advantage in the game from their trades (Katniss was a hunter and Reaper was a lumberjack, I think). Despite this, both chose to ally themselves with young girls (Rue and Dill respectively) over the older, stronger tributes. And they both have to watch this girl die. I saw way more of Katniss in Reaper tearing down the Panem flag to cover his fellow tributes after finding Dill dead than in Sejanus sprinkling breadcrumbs over Marcus.

What this movie made me sure of is that there must have been so many tributes like Reaper and Katniss. While we see some tributes driven to do awful things to survive, we also see so much love and mercy – in Reaper immediately telling Dill to stick with him in the arena, in that little girl taking Lucy’s hand, in Lamina mercy killing Marcus’ and cutting his body down.

I also don’t think Snow felt especially haunted by Lucy Gray in Peeta. While I think the two are a lot more alike than Sejanus and Katniss, Snow has seen dozens of games since the 10th. While Lucy was the first of her kind, I’m sure there have been so many tributes like Lucy, who try to use charm and personality to win over the audience as opposed to relying on physical strength. The games were literally reshaped to give tributes like her a better chance. We hear over and over during the first book how likability is the key to surviving in the arena.

Ultimately, neither Katniss nor Peeta are unique as tributes. Peeta isn’t even unique as a victor – while he was an underdog, I’m sure there have been at least a couple other victors like Peeta and Lucy Gray who managed to get by. I do not, however, think there had ever been a victor like Katniss. That’s what’s different between her and Reaper, and why Katniss successfully inspired a revolution while Reaper, who rebelled against the games in almost the same way, did not. Reaper died as an act of defiance against the Capitol, while Katniss lived. They both ultimately refused to play the game, but Katniss proved that resisting the Capitol was not a death wish. And that is what scares Snow. That's why he needs her to frame it as an act of love for Peeta. Not because she reminds him of a dead revolutionary, or even of a dead friend (although idk if I would even call them friends tbh).

(I feel I have to add, the capitol was clearly threatened by what Reaper did, or Gaul wouldn’t have interrupted him with that announcement. Also, we don’t see how 11 reacts to Dill’s death like we do with Rue, it could have also resulted in riots. But Reaper died where Katniss did not. There’s that line Snow had in the first movie about needing to control how much hope they give the districts, and clearly Katniss surviving pushed them across the threshold)

But Katniss and Reaper were not rebels or revolutionaries going into the arena. Yes, they hated the Capitol, but what tribute wouldn’t? Their priority was survival and helping Rue and Dill survive. It was the deaths of their friends that sparked their rebellion. Sejanus, on the other hand, had little to no concern for survival. He was consumed with his hate for the games and the Capitol (he was choking on it).

If I had to make a parallel between Sejanus and someone in the original trilogy, it would be Cinna. They both live in the Capitol, on a path of upward social trajectory, and despite that neither of them are willing to live with what the Capitol is doing, and it kills them. Snow even causes both their deaths.  

I also had to consider that Katniss reminded Snow of himself. Both of them start out their respective books with very little consideration with the big picture. Their focus is on improving the lives of themselves and their families. I think that is how Snow knows where to put the pressure to keep Katniss in line. (Coin does not understand this, and it’s why she struggles manipulating Katniss into doing what she wants). But unlike Snow, Katniss doesn’t feel ownership over her loved ones, and her idea of ‘doing anything for them’ means sacrificing herself, not the lives of others.

I don’t think Snow was haunted. I think that requires feeling guilt or regret. After Lucy Gray ran away, Snow got married. And had children. And grandchildren. He hosted more games and killed more district kids. He might have cried after what he did to Sejanus, but he then immediately took the money that would have been Sejanus’ and used to do things that would have had him doing barrel rolls in his grave.

Snow at the end of the Hunger Games trilogy does not strike me as a man who is haunted by his choices. Like he told Lucy Gray, he came to believe humanity is innately evil. When you think that, you can do as many horrible things as you want to, because there will never be an innocent victim. You’re just doing to other people what they would do to you - if they were as smart and cunning and powerful as you are.

[zenkor123]

"We believed that seeing Peeta's full condition, good or bad would harm your duties as Mockingjay so stuff like his surly temperament stemming from depression and anger you've seen twice, his suicide attempt, were kept from you as well as good stuff like the wedding cake and his reaction to you being shot in 2. Haymitch hated this but had to comply. Enough hope that you could function but not too much hope. Haymitch disregarded our orders not to tell you Peeta wanted to see you, he got in serious trouble. If we wanted you two to meet then we would have known exactly what to say to both of you to make It happen. Your not as indifferent as you claim, and neither is Peeta. We were going to have it done in November, we had a hunch that he would be sent to squad 451, just not so soon actually when Coin sent military doctors to assess him it was pretty clear he was going to the Capitol with you. But until then you were only supposed to imagine what Peeta's like from Haymitch's descriptions.

Coin damn it we are so despicable.

Delly laughs.

"And I can already read your thoughts Katniss, no you would not have been able to contain him, if he goes you die, I hate Coin! Sorry not appropriate talk, all hail Coin! but at least he is more prepared for the trip".

Delly Cartwright October 3rd.

"how do I stop Peeta from throwing me in the air or worse?" Katniss asks

Delly laughs

"You want to stay on the rotation?"

Delly laughs drunkenly "I didn't think I would be mentoring tributes but here I am, so your not going to like the advice but the strangulation is at this point a wound in Peeta as well particularly when your on his watch. The best way would be to forgive him. The problem is deep in him, you will have no choice but to help him determine what's real from false. Your kind of a giant wound in his mind at this point and when your on the rotation it begins to bleed. He thinks even if he's evil he lives according to his old ethical code, he thinks he can control his episodes, he is doing his duty to 13. But when he sees you he remembers the strangulation and he hates the icky feeling, you remind him that in the end he is a mutt, he has accepted this. He even tries to feel and act sane, but the bruises on your neck bring him back to reality. He is scared, Peeta only wanted to do his military duty after he was better, after the war was over and you remind him that he isn't in control of his episodes and he thought you were ready to kick him when he's down in front of both squads. The demons and wounds are many and we cuased many of them. All this is relevant becuase Peeta as insane as he is has a vote in who is on his rotation, you witnessed this first hand. "

Delly then tries to persuade Katniss to quit the rotation but Katniss never told Delly she didn't trust the unit to protect her and needs the incapacitator. Delly also does not know that Katniss basically has no real choice and Coin is going to find a way to put her on anyway. Katniss has done everything in her power to not care about Peeta, to cut the cord, but the things Delly reveals hurt as much as the torture at the hands of d13 thugs.

Even when Delly realizes it isn't working she continues spouting stuff until she passes out drunk. Every drug loosens Delly’s inhibitions leading to more Peeta information being revealed with decreasing coherence.

[thelittlestladylikesthis]

The Pink Rose, part 6

Part Six- July 8th/9th, 74 ADD

Pairing: Haymitch Abernathy x reader 

Word count: 2,780

Warnings: pet names, arguing, cursing, yelling

July 8th, 74 ADD

Haymitch invited [Y/n] to sit in on Katniss’ interview prep. After lunch, the three of them situated themselves in a triangle in the sitting room. Katniss sat down and hunched over to rest her elbows on her knees. Haymitch stayed standing and [Y/n] gracefully sat down, crossing her ankles. 

“What?” Katniss asked after an uncomfortable brief stare-down from Haymitch.

“I’m trying to figure out what to do with you,” he said, “How’re we gonna present you. Are you gonna be charming? Aloof? Fierce? So far, you’re shinin’. You volunteered to save your sister. Cinna made you look unforgettable. You’ve got the top training score. People are intrigued, but no one knows who you are,” 

“The impression you make tomorrow will decide exactly what we can secure for you in terms of sponsors,” [Y/n] added.

“What’s Peeta’s approach? Or am I not allowed to ask?” Katniss said stubbornly

“Likable. He has a sort of natural self-deprecating humor,” says Haymitch. “Whereas when you open your mouth, you come across more… hostile.”

“I do not!” Katniss almost yelled as her back straightened.

“Please. I don’t know where you pulled that cheery, wavy girl on the chariot from, but I haven’t seen her before or since,” nagged Haymitch.

“And you’ve given me so many reasons to be cheery,” she sneered back.

“Alright, knock it off you two!” [Y/n] demanded, “Katniss, you had to grow up fast and it shows- you’re an oldest child from the Seam. You know the struggle. You have your sister and… Gale? You probably feel comfortable in front of them, but being the center of attention is clearly a place you are not used to,”

Katniss nodded in understanding, “You seem to be pretty comfortable there,”

[Y/n] laughed, “I wasn’t always like that, and being used to it is not the same as being comfortable. Nowadays, I attract less attention if I dress pretty. If I were to show up for interviews wearing my normal 12 style, I think the Capital would riot. Such is the curse of being a beloved victor,”

“Exactly being a disliked victor is better,” Haymitch said proudly, “Besides, you don’t have to please us. we’re not going to sponsor you. So pretend we’re the audience,” he plopped into a chair. “Delight me.”

Haymitch conducted a mock interview with Katniss while [Y/n] took notes. Katniss tried to answer his questions in a likable way, but she was too angry with the whole thing. The longer the interview went on, the more her frustration began to show.

“All right, enough,” Haymitch said, “We’ve got to find another angle. Not only are you hostile, I don’t know anything about you. I’ve asked you fifty questions and still have no sense of your life, your family, what you care about. They want to know about you, Katniss.”

“But I don’t want them to! They’re already taking my future! They can’t have the things that mattered to me in the past!” she complained.

“Then lie! Make something up!” Haymitch almost yelled back.

“I’m not good at lying,” Katniss said.

[Y/n] spoke up, “You should work on that Kat-” 

“Because you’ve got about as much charm as a dead slug,” Haymitch interrupted. Realizing that might’ve been harsh, his voice softened, “Here’s an idea. Try acting humble.”

“Humble,” Katniss said quietly.

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” [Y/n] mused, “Yes, you can’t believe a little girl from District Twelve has done this well. The whole thing’s been more than you ever could have dreamed of. Talk about Cinna’s clothes, how nice the people are, how dazzling the Capital is. If you won’t talk about yourself, at least compliment the audience. Gush- these people love themselves and what they have- use it- make them look like fools.”

Even this didn’t work for Katniss. The next couple of hours proved that she couldn’t gush, be cocky or arrogant, funny, sexy (that pained [Y/n] to even try), or mysterious. Somewhere between arrogant and funny, Haymitch started drinking. [Y/n] tried to slow him down, but he wouldn’t listen “I give up, sweetheart. Just answer the questions and try not to let the audience see how openly you hate them.”

“He’s right Katniss-” [Y/n]

“Of course I’m right!” Haymitch shot before reeling back in at [Y/n]’s quick death glare.

She turned back to Katniss, “I was you once- but I made them like and they gave me things that kept me alive in that arena. Medicine. A bottle of fresh water. A blanket. We don’t know what your arena is, but securing sponsors is the most prepared you can be,”

Katniss sighed and nodded in understanding.

July 9, 74 ADD

Cinna, Portia, and Effie joined Haymitch and [Y/n] backstage after making up Katniss and Peeta. Peeta wore a striking black suit with flame accents to keep the theme going. Katniss wore an impressive gown designed by Cinna. The whole thing was covered in fire like jewels that looked like flames when she moved. The girl on fire. The gold accents painted on her skin shined and looked beautifully tasteful in contrast to her gown. Haymitch, [Y/n], and Effie were all dressed up for the occasion. Effie’s lavender dress matched her tall floral high heels and towering curly wig of almost the same hue of purple. Haymitch’s suit was clearly new and he wore a lapel pin that resembled a flame. [Y/n] wore a black jeweled dress that hugged her curves and, to Katniss, looked difficult to breathe in. [Y/n] was the coal supporting Katniss and Peeta’s flames. Effie and Cinna had made it very clear that this was a time for impressions. 

Just before the tributes were paraded onto the stage, Haymitch and [Y/n] walked up behind Peeta and Katniss. Haymitch almost growled as he said, “Remember, you’re still a happy set of kids from District Twelve. So act like it.”

Katniss turned around and opened her mouth to say something, but all she saw was Haymitch and [Y/n] walking away interestingly close together. She furrowed her brow in confusion as Haymitch guided [Y/n] by placing his hand gently on her lower back just above her rear. Katniss couldn’t hear what he whispered to make [Y/n]... giggle?

[Y/n] and Haymitch joined the rest of “Team Twelve” (as Effie coined them) in the backstage waiting area to watch the televised version of the interviews. Peeta looked amazing and Katniss did better than expected- but [Y/n] could still tell she was uncomfortable.

Every citizen of Panem is tuned in to watch their tribute. Caesar Flickerman, the interview host of more than forty years, bounced on stage in an Effie-like fashion. He didn’t appear to have aged in the last four decades. Same full face of makeup. Same hair in a tall bouffant that he dyed a different color every Hunger Games. At least in [Y/n]’s lifetime, he’d always worn the same ceremonial suit of midnight blue. Impressively, it was dotted with a thousand tiny lightbulbs that twinkled like stars. This time, Caesar’s hair was powder blue and his eyelids and lips were coated to match.

Caesar told a few jokes and once he had everyone’s attention, introduced the female tribute from District 1: a provocative looking girl in a see-through gold gown.

“I will never understand the sexualization of teenagers,” [Y/n] whispered to Effie.

“Oh it’s just the fashion,” Effie dismissed.

Every 3 minutes, a buzzer sounded marking the end of the interview and time to move on. Haymitch told [Y/n] to wake him at District 10 and rested his head back. [Y/n] smacked his chest lightly and told him to be an adult. She proceeded to keep Effie at ease by commenting on Katniss’ sitting posture or the effort being made to not look like she’d stepped on something smelly. Tribute after tribute they watched each interview intently and [Y/n] took notes as if she were trying to decipher each one like a puzzle.Some tributes were interesting, a few may have prompted a yawn or two. Twenty-two tributes later:

“Help me say welcome to the lovely Katniss Everdeen: the Girl on Fire!” Caesar shouted.

Katniss walked onto the stage and shook Caesar’s outstretched hand. [Y/n] and Effie gave each other small smiles as Katniss successfully walked out in heels and a gown without tripping.

“So, Katniss, the Capitol must be quite a change from District Twelve. What’s impressed you most since you arrived here?” Caesar asked with an ear to ear grin.

Haymitch clicked his tongue after Katniss had a delayed response of “The lamb stew,”

Caesar laughed, “The one with the dried plums?” Katniss nodded as the crowd joined Caesar’s enthusiasm, “Oh, I eat it by the bucketful.” He laughed as he held his stomach.

“Now, Katniss,” he said, “When you came out in the opening ceremonies, my heart actually stopped,” he turned to the crowd, “Did any of you experience this as well? My heart stopped- What did you think of that costume?”

Much to Team Twelve’s surprise, Katniss smiled, “You mean after I realized I wouldn’t burn to death?”

Caesar and the audience were in stitches, “Yes. Start then,” says Caesar. Katniss was exceeding expectations.

“I thought Cinna was brilliant and it was the most gorgeous thing I’d ever seen and I couldn’t believe I was wearing it. I can’t believe I’m wearing this, either- I mean, look at it!”

The crowd oohs and aahs as Katniss shows off the skirt of her gown. [Y/n] realized how much coaching of his own Cinna had done when Katniss spun in a circle.

“Oh, do that again!” Caesar demanded. 

Katniss lifted her arms and spun harder allowing her skirt to fly outwards, covering her in the same flames from the ceremony. The audience broke into cheers, applause, and enthusiastic screams. When she stopped spinning, Caesar gave her his arm to steady herself and begged her not to stop.

“I have to, I’m dizzy!” she giggled, matching his energy. 

“So she is a teenage girl,” Haymitch whispered to [Y/n].

Katniss struggled to take a step from the dizziness so Caesar wrapped his arm around her shoulders, “Don’t worry, I’ve got you. Can’t have you following in the footsteps of the wrong mentor.”

The crowd was in an uproar of laughter as the cameras found Haymitch and [Y/n]: one now famous for his drunken stage dive at the reaping, and the other famous for being a deadly beauty. Haymitch and [Y/n] waved the cameras away good-naturedly and [Y/n] pointed back to Katniss.

Caesar laughs and brings the crowd back in as he and Katniss returned to their seats, “So, how about that training score. Eleven. Whatever happened there?”

The cameras find the Gamemakers and Katniss says, “Um ... all I can say is I think it was a first.” The Gamemakers are laughing and nodding in agreement.

“You’re killing us- details! Details!,” says Caesar.

Katniss looks to the Gamemakers, “I’m not supposed to talk about it, right?” One of them shouts down that she can’t say anything so Katniss looks at the crowd, “Sorry. My lips are sealed.”

Caesar moped then grew uncharacteristically quiet and serious, “Let’s go back then, to the moment they called your sister’s name at the reaping and you volunteered. Can you tell us

about her?”

Katniss gave a small exhale. “Her name’s Prim. She’s just twelve and I love her more than

Anything.” The crowd was silent with emotion.

“What did she say to you? After the reaping?” Caesar asked.

“She asked me to try really hard to win.” 

“And what did you say?” 

“I said I would try. I would try and win for her,”

“And try you shall,” Caesar said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze as the buzzer sounded, “Sorry we’re out of time, folks. Best of luck, Katniss Everdeen, tribute from District Twelve.”

The crowd doesn’t stop clapping and cheering until Katniss is seated backstage. They pause for a moment until Peeta is introduced.

[Y/n] followed Katniss, “I am so proud of you- that is how you get sponsors!’ she said as the crowd laughs at something Peeta said. They missed Caesars question, but heard Peeta ask if he smelt like roses. The crowd cannot contain themselves as Peeta and Caesar sniff each other.

“Seems we won’t have trouble getting things for either of you,” [Y/n] smiles.

Caesar’s voice comes through the backstage TV, “So Peeta, tell me, is there a special girl back home?” Peeta shakes his head side-to-side as he denies having anyone, “Handsome lad like you? There must be a special girl. Come on, tell us?” Caesar sounds like he’ll die if Peeta doesn’t start talking about someone.

Peeta sighed, “Well, there is this one girl I’ve had a crush on forever,” Caesar got a knowing grin on his face, “But I’m pretty sure she didn’t recognize me until the reaping.”

[Y/n] mused as the crowd collectively expressed sympathy, “Ah, he’s taken a sympathetic angle,”

“She have another fellow?” Caesar asked sadly.

“I don’t think so, but a lot of boys like her,” Peeta said.

“Well, you go out there, and you win this thing, and she’ll have to go out with you!” Caesar said encouragingly.

Just loud enough for everyone to hear, Peeta said, “No, I don’t think winning will help too much,”

“Oh? Why not?”

Peeta’s cheeks lit up to match the flames on Katniss’ dress. Everyone- [Y/n] and Katniss included- leaned forward in anticipation of his answer, “Because… because... she came here with me.”

The cameras lingered on Peeta’s heartbroken expression. Suddenly, they are fixed on Katniss and [Y/n], mouths open in shock. Katniss closed her mouth and looked down so the cameras couldn’t see her expression and [Y/n] wrapped an arm around Katniss, trying to appear sympathetic.

“Oh, well that’s bad luck,” Caesar’s expression was full of genuine pain and mirrored on the crowd- half of whom had started crying.

The interview finished as Caesar consoled Peeta and wished him well. The crowd clapped and cheered as the last tribute left the stage. [Y/n] knew Katniss was not blushing from being flattered- the girl was embarrassed. That was [Y/n]’s cue to rush Katniss upstairs. They were back on the twelfth floor for barely a minute before Peeta and Haymitch stepped off another elevator. Before anyone could react, Katniss angrily lunged and slammed her hands onto Peeta’s chest. He stumbled and crashed into the wall. Haymitch shot forward and forced Katniss away from Peeta.

“What the hell was that? You had no right to say that about me!” Katniss yelled.

Haymitch shouted for her to stop as she loudly challenged, “You wanna train alone and now you have a crush on me? Let’s go! Right now!”

Cinna and Effie stepped off the elevator as [Y/n] angrily told Katniss to “knock it off”.

“You’re a fool,” Haymitch said with a disgusted tone, “That boy gave you something

you could never get on your own.”

“He made me look weak!”

“He made you look desirable! And let’s face it, you were about as romantic as the goddamn dirt until he said he wanted you. Now everyone wants you. The talk of the Capital: the star-crossed lovers from District Twelve!”

“We are NOT star-crossed lovers!” she shouted.

[Y/n] felt the room get more heated, “Katniss-”

“It’s a television show!” Haymitch interrupted angrily.

“Haymitch, shut up!” [Y/n] yelled- the room grew quiet as everyone stilled in shock by the angry sound, “You!” she pointed at Katniss, “Be grateful that you have people who care about you and let go of your goddamn ego. You!” she pointed at Peeta, “Don’t say anything else about your feelings for her until you’re in that arena and don’t listen to Haymitch for emotional romantic advice. And YOU!” she stood up straight and faced Haymitch, “Go to your fucking room and sober up! I cannot take this dysfunctional group for the rest of the night!” [Y/n] stormed off to her own room.

Everyone was shocked to silence for a few minutes. Katniss was surprised and had been having a hard time imagining [Y/n] as anything but a glamor woman. Haymitch and Peeta looked at their feet like schoolboys who’d just been told off. 

Effie broke the silence, “Well she didn’t need to curse,”

Haymitch, Cinna, and Peeta groaned at the comment and left the room. Effie announced that she needed to leave and bounced into the elevator, leaving Katniss alone in the entryway. 

Masterlist

[everroots]

katniss was being utterly sincere when she told gale that all she could think about was how afraid she was for the safety of the people she cared about. romance has been the furthest thing from katniss' mind since her father died -- and, frankly, she was too young to consider it much when he was alive anyway. ( though she did like watching how her parents interacted with each other, how in love they were. ) after, she didn't exactly have the time for it. every ounce of her being has been dedicated to keeping her sister, her mother, and herself alive and fed. of course she never noticed the boys who apparently pined after her. the only boy she had time for was gale, because he was her hunting partner and one of the few who understood her pain and the necessity for what they did. she didn't have to say a word for him to understand her. he was her best friend. for a while, that's all she thought she needed. and then there was peeta. peeta was different because, they weren't friends, hardly even acquaintances, but he was the first dandelion of spring that kept her alive. a debt she owes for the rest of her life. she found herself watching him in school -- just to make sure that he was still alright, still breathing and bright as the sun despite his dark cloud of a mother lingering over his family. as long as he was okay, that meant everything else was still okay, too. ( she never thought he had also noticed her. )

so katniss had primrose, her mother, gale, and the boy with the bread from afar. ( she wasn't sure if she should consider madge a friend, though she found herself smiling every time the girl did, too. ) she needed no one else to look after, worry over. the thought of bringing a family into this world, potential children's names tossed into the reaping bowl, always made her sick. and during her games, well, that was just another strategy to stay alive and win. one she thought peeta was in on. when she realized that for him, everything in the arena had been real, she couldn't piece together what exactly she felt: guilt certainly, though she had never intended to mislead him. and there was something else, something unnamable, so she let him become cold and distance himself from her when they returned home. she convinced herself it was better for the both of them. she hunted again with gale, because it was simple and familiar and he was never as confusing to puzzle out. and then he kissed her. he kissed her, and they both pretended it never happened after, but that unnamable thing now felt like a wedge between them, too.

here's the thing: it wasn't bad. neither of them. she found she enjoyed the comfort of being held by another person, in warm & sturdy arms and pressing her ear against a beating heart as the rain fell in sheets outside the cave. she liked the dependable presence of her hunting partner at her side in her woods, conversing through a mere look. the affection was strange and new, but nice. but she had never felt anything more than that. no touch of lips made her feel giddy, or flushed, or like someone had lit new years fireworks inside her chest. sometimes when she'd trace her lips and think of the times gale or peeta kissed her, she'd think of madge's lips against her cheek just after the reaping and how lovely her perfume had smelled from that close. she never thought of it long, because it'd make her face burn and it was something she was simply not equipped to deal with. not between the nightmares, snow's threat, the victory tour . . . the victory tour. when she had to act head over heels in love with peeta again. it wasn't hard to enjoy peeta's company, to feel at ease with him, but it was always the romantic parts she fumbled with. like nothing ever clicked. and at first, she wondered if it was because gale still lingered in the back of her mind and it felt wrong. like some kind of betrayal all over again.

because if she had to choose . . . gale made sense, right? they had their disagreements, but he'd known her the longest. he was strong, reliable, a caretaker. and for some reason, he liked her. it made sense to have feelings for him, right? but even that short timeline felt odd. like she was trading one net for another. as it turned out, there would be no choosing. no freedom. it was time to repay peeta for the life he had given her.

and if sometimes the only way to get him to understand what she couldn't voice was to fall back on the crutch of their romance, well, what of it? she'd be dead long before she could ever give him an explanation. the only thing she knew for sure is that peeta mellark was the first blue sky of spring, the sun that rose each morning to remind her to get up and keep going, and she could not continue life in an endless winter without him. that's what it felt like in thirteen. even after his rescue, the baker's boy that she knew and loved ― yes, loved, in whatever way that meant for her ― was gone. he hated her for the wretched, guilty thing she was. the best thing she could do for the both of them was to destroy the man who started it all, even especially if it meant destroying herself.

gale would be okay without her, too. he always had been. he'd honor the deal they made ages ago and take care of her family. and amidst all their arguments in thirteen, he seemed to've finally seen what katniss couldn't: something that allowed him to take a step back. something she would never be able to piece together until after the war, after peeta returns to twelve and she is forced to confide in him that her love for him is real but not the same. because katniss told herself for years she didn't have time for romance, and forced herself to ignore every time her gaze lingered a little too long on madge, making the excuse that she just liked watching her play the piano because she was better. ignored that she looked forward to seeing her whenever she sold strawberries to the mayor. she ignored every time she saw a couple in the hob, two men or two women, freely holding hands out of view of the peacekeepers and the way it made her stomach do somersaults. ignored the way johanna mason's provocations didn't just make her uncomfortable or jealous for peeta's sake, but riled up so many questions she had shoved down for so long.

for katniss, it always seems like people know her secrets long before she ever figures them out.

[heavensbeehall]

still poking at my katniss fic even though i haven't nearly finished the peeta one.

all the voices in my head are distracting.

Peeta consulted Dr. Aurelius a lot about whether he should sleep in the same bed with me or not. I wasn’t included in these conversations because I could barely move. It felt like there were heavy weights on all my limbs, it was so much easier to sit and stare at the fire. Eventually Peeta explained that he had to have his own bedclothes—a thick, old quilt that he wrapped around himself like I wrapped towels around my body after a shower. I couldn’t figure out the purpose of the blanket. It didn’t hold him down and his arms were free. I was just. so. tired. so I didn’t ask.

It took a few weeks for me to even wonder at it. By then the good nights’ sleep combined with the medicine made me feel better. Peeta made sure I took the medicine every morning, because when he came back in the Spring he found the bottles barely touched. Then he made frowny faces at me and snitched on me to Dr. Aurelius.

I was mad about that but I was also glad to have him back. He’d bake me anything I wanted, and gave me hugs and kisses if I did something—anything, really—other than sit inside and be sad. If I did feel like sitting all day, he wanted me to sit with him on the couch instead of the rocking chair I had by the fire during the Winter. Sometimes I would bury my face in his shirt and block out the world. It was easier in the shirt.

Sometimes it was irritating that Peeta was doing better than I was. He had been tortured and injected with venom that made him rage. He’d been through worse than me. He could at least pretend to be down.

But no. He chatted amiably with the new neighbors. People had moved into the nine empty houses in the Victor’s Village and he knew all their names. I recognized some of their faces. Peeta baked bread for anyone who wanted it. He helped with the rubble removal sometimes, if he was feeling up to it. He laughed and he smiled. I wondered how his teeth were so white. We didn’t have much dental care in District 12.

I went hunting once or twice that Spring, a bit more in the Summer. I got tired easily. Sometimes I wouldn’t go into the woods because they “felt wrong.” If I did go, Peeta acted like I brought down a deer even if I returned with one scrawny squirrel in my bag. It was patronizing but the big hug and soft kisses in my hair felt nice so I allowed it. 

It’s like in the Arena, when I realized how lonely I had been on my own. How glad I was that he wasn’t dead and that I didn’t have to face it alone.

Now I want to touch him a lot, to prove that he’s really there and I’m not dreaming. He came back.

One day near the end of Summer he says, “You know, you are a lot cuddlier than I thought you’d be.”

We are on the couch, which the Capitol picked out. I have my head on his shoulder. The couch is overstuffed and nothing like the squashy, well-worn couches I was familiar with as a child. I wouldn’t have picked it for myself, but it was the only seat big enough for two in the living room, and Peeta often watched the television. We tried our best to avoid the news or any government programming. However, Peeta had found that there was a whole channel of people cooking things, and even though he was a baker not a cook, I think it comforted him to see people in kitchens and hear the familiar noises.

I frown, unsure what he means by his comment. Because he thought I was a scary mutt girl? I don’t want to talk about that. I start to pull away, not liking where this is going.

Seeing my face, he pulls me back. “I mean when I was younger. You seemed so tough.”

He imitates my scowl at me. I scowl right back, which only makes him laugh.

Even though I am mad at him, it does make me a little bit happy when I hear him laugh. There was a time when I thought I would never hear that laugh again.

I am also embarrassed. He has noticed how often I cling to him now, and I don’t know how he feels about that. We used to hug and kiss all the time, but that was just a show. My instinct is to scramble away because I am caught, but when I try to, he wraps his arms around my middle and pulls me down next to him.

“That’s not a bad thing,” he clarifies.

He is looking at me, only inches away. It makes me feel exposed and uncomfortable. I’m a wreck. I’m barely anything anymore. Nothing to see.

I don’t want him to see how nothing I am. I don’t want to be left alone again.

“Do you want to watch the cooking channel?” I ask, changing the subject.

“Okay, Katniss,” he says, in a familiar tone. He keeps his arms around me, so I am pulled tightly to his side.

I take a shaky breath, relieved but still a bit trembly. Because I need to do something with my hands, I touch the soft fabric of his shirt. I run two fingers back and forth along his forearm, feeling the soft, coziness of the fabric. I think it’s flannel. Cinna would know for sure.

The cooking show goes on, but I watch my fingers run along the fabric. It’s blue like his eyes. I bet Portia did that on purpose. I can feel muscles underneath, and maybe a vein? Huh. I don’t think my forearms have muscles, at least not anything you can feel. Is it because he works with his hands so much or is this a boy thing?

I haven’t touched a lot of boys.

I look up and find he is watching me. “Did Portia make this?” I ask, trying to cover how weird I am. Who goes around feeling someone’s forearms?

“She did,” he says. I can see Adam’s apple bob in his throat. His jaw is tight and I worry I have upset him.

I put my hand back into my lap, self-consciously.

Peeta clears his throat. “Do you want to watch something else?” He looks confused, almost nervous but Peeta doesn’t get nervous. “You can’t be that interested if my shirt is more entertaining.” He gives me a half-smile.

He’s right. I don’t care at all about the people on the show. They feel far off and fake to me. But I do want to keep sitting on the couch with Peeta, warm beside me.

“Sometimes I need something to do with my hands,” I say, recalling something. “It’s a grounding technique.” Ha! That’s something Aurelius told me, about feeling where you are, what you can hear and touch.

I wait for him to say that I don’t listen to Dr. Aurelius or that it’s weird to go around stroking someone’s forearm without asking.

Instead, he takes my hand in his and just says, “okay.”

Panic, that’s the only word for what I feel. If the shirt felt soft and nice against my skin, then his hand covering mine is overwhelming. He’s all warm and firm. It’s comforting and familiar but also totally new. I don’t remember it feeling like this when he held my hand on the Victory Tour. Then it felt steady.

Now I am worried my hands are sweaty and he thinks I’m gross and smelly. Although I did actually shower today, or at least I think I did.

Yes, I did. I know I did because Buttercup wandered in the door and just sat there and watched me wash my hair like he couldn’t believe I was stupid enough to stand in all that water. He prefers to lick himself, which shows what he knows.

So I probably don’t smell bad, is the important part. Peeta doesn’t seem to be repulsed by me. He keeps his face forward, the flickering lights of the television illuminating his profile.

I feel his thumb move and nearly jump when it slowly strokes the skin of my hand, back and forth, like my fingers on his shirt. It’s just a small movement, meant to be comforting, I think. It’s… nice, but definitely not comforting because my heart is racing in my chest like after the Gamemakers shot fireballs at me. I can’t focus on the words on the television. My hand is too overwhelming. Maybe the medicine is doing something to my head because I don’t think I had as many nerve endings in my hand before.

[thesweetnessofspring]

Katniss Wants Kisses: Part Three

Katniss is fed up with getting no physical affection from Peeta during their training for the Quarter Quell, so she takes matters into her own hands. Read part one here. Read part two here. Or read the whole thing on ao3. Rated T.

The next day is Saturday, our rest day, and I don’t see Peeta. It’s not unusual, but he often stops in to make sure I’m eating all of my calories for the day. When I think of the massage and how he jumped up to leave, I burn with embarrassment, something I’d never felt at Peeta’s reaction to anything I’ve done before. And then I get angry, because I know he liked it, from the sounds he made and the fact that if he didn’t love me, he wouldn’t be trying to save me from the Quarter Quell. 

Well, fine. If he’s going to act like I have the pox, then I can return his distance just as much as he can. More, even.

I start and run the four miles without him on Sunday, briefly passing him as I return to Victor’s Village. We ignore one another as we move through our exercises, with Peeta extra hard on Haymitch today until our mentor threatens, “Do you want to get killed before you’re in the arena?”

Then over lunch with the three of us all sullen, Peeta says, “We need to hurry up. Gale’s going to be here in ten minutes.”

“Gale?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.

“He’s showing us how to make snares and traps.”

Haymitch sighs. “Great. Just what we need. Another bossy teenager.”

I wolf down the rest of my food, chewing so hard my teeth hurt. Gale? Gale? Why would Peeta do this? My body flushes as the massage pops into my head again and I hate Peeta. I hate him for what a jackass he’s been since the Quarter Quell announcement. I hate him for ignoring me and I hate him for bringing Gale into this training that should just be me, him, and Haymitch. I could show them what we need to know just fine when it came to snares. Gale might be the better trapper, but I can hold my own.

When Gale comes over, he lays out his wire and rope on the kitchen table, Haymitch and Peeta on either side of him, taking in the instruction basics, while I slouch on the opposite end, glaring at both boys. I know everything Gale’s showing them anyway. At the end of the afternoon, with Haymitch and Peeta having a few of the basics under their belt, my mother comes in and asks who would be staying for dinner.

“This food is the one thing I don’t hate about this training,” Haymitch says. “Count me in.”

“I can stay as well,” Gale says, though he’s looking at me. “Thank you, ma’am.”

Gale had always refused anything we offered him, unless we’d gotten it from the woods. Things have gotten worse in District 12, but I know Haymitch is paying Hazelle well for keeping his house. I flex my jaw, not liking where this is going.

“I’m having dinner with my family tonight,” Peeta says. “But thank you for the offer, Mrs. Everdeen.”

It could have been happenstance, but the timing of everything feels too off. Peeta hadn’t mentioned Gale coming until today and now Peeta had to leave while Gale was staying? He hadn’t even talked to me about it.

“I’ll see you out,” I say, the first words I’ve spoken since Gale arrived.

Peeta’s gaze shifts uncomfortably from me to others in the room, as if hoping someone else would join us or stop me. But no one does and I walk with him to the front of the house.

“You should teach us wrestling,” I say. I’m not letting Peeta win this. As much as we were working together, we also had opposite goals to get the other one home. For some reason, this feels inextricably linked to making sure Peeta returns to Twelve at the end of the Quell.

“Okay,” he says. “I’ll call Madge and see if she can–”

“We don’t need Madge,” I say.

“You need a partner.”

“You’ll be my partner.”

Peeta throws me an incredulous look. “I’m so much bigger than you.”

“Like everyone else in the arena will be I’m sure. I need the practice.”

I can see the conflict Peeta is figuring out in his head as we stop by the front door with the stained glass panels. I am right that I’ll be one of the smallest competitors in the arena, and most of the Careers have kept up their own fitness by teaching at their academies. It’s my weakest area and I have to have a plan in case it comes to hand-to-hand combat. But it also means being close to me physically. We’d all heard the jokes about the wrestling team before, no matter how reclusive.

“We can start going over basics tomorrow,” he agrees in a rough voice. 

And I’m so deliciously gleeful over this win, I throw my arms around him in a hug. He rocks back for a second and I cling to him tighter, my forehead pressing against his neck and closing my eyes so I can bring him all in. The width of him as my hands just barely overlap against his strong back, the way his Adam’s apple travels up and down my forehead as he swallows, the way he can be both firm and soft underneath me, the perfect balance. Peeta lets his arms come around me once and gives one gentle squeeze before his hands at my waist pull me away from him.

I’m not going to act desperate, so I step back and try to put on that cocky expression again, but there’s a slip of pain in Peeta’s face before he smoothes it over again, making me falter as well.

“See you tomorrow, Katniss,” he says. “Enjoy your dinner.”

[mollywog]

My This Would Have Happened Anyways - Summer 24 Districts Apart submission was inspired the description of Seeder:

The woman, Seeder, looks almost like she could be from the Seam, with her olive skin and straight black hair streaked with silver. Only her golden brown eyes mark her as from another district.

and Yeehaw Peeta by @charlunday! Also go check out Charlie’s District 10 Katniss (Commissions are open)!!

Read on Ao3

She sees his boots first, the well-worn angled toe stopping short of her cheek pressed to the cool tile of the bathroom floor. Chaff thought the liquor might help loosen her up after her stiff performance in 12. It had worked… in a way.

The boots sit down beside her slowly. Katniss recognizes their wearer as her eyes flit to his face then quickly away. “Thought you could use this,” he says, extending a wedge of the thin circle bread they eat here in District 10. She drags herself up to sit against the wall, facing forward as she takes the offering. “I’m Peeta by the way.”

“I know who you are,” The whole country knows Peeta Mellark, last year’s Victor of the games. She supposes that means the whole country knows her now too. Her stomach rolls.

She’s still facing forward, but can hear the smile in his voice as he responds, “wasn't sure you’d recognize me without the hat.”

Her lips twitch and she gives him a sidelong look. District 10’s industry is livestock, a fact their stylists won’t let you forget with their spurs and lassos and the funny wide brimmed hats. Or maybe it’s how they show district pride here in 10 since she’s noticed them on nearly all the officials she’s met today. Either way, she decides she prefers Peeta’s unfettered golden waves. “Does everyone wear those all the time here?”

“Yes mam,” he drawls, “Even sleep in ‘em.”

“Really?” finally turning to look at him, brow furrowed, she’s met with a smirk. She rolls her eyes, shaking her head.

“Nah. I grew up in a bakery. Didn’t have much use for them there,” he laughs, “it was a small kitchen and there were five of us; Not sure we’d have all fit with all our big heads in cowboy hats.”

She can’t help but laugh at the image her mind creates. His smile widens and it’s as if the sun has reemerged from behind a cloud. Even her body warms at the sight… Or maybe it’s the liquor making its reappearance yet again.

He stays by her side as she leans over the toilet. “I’m sorry,” she says, slumping back to the floor next to him when the nausea subsides. She tentatively nibbles at the bread for something to occupy her hands and mouth.

“We’ve all been there.”

She’s not sure whether he’s talking about overindulging or the Victory Tour in general, but she’s comforted by his words and they embolden her to continue.

“I don’t think I’m cut out for this.” She’d already been forewarned of the things that may be asked of her; The Victor’s responsibilities no one mentions ahead of time and the things at stake should she decline. One of the few consolations of her victory was the better life she could provide for her sister, but that was all an illusion; Prim was in more danger than ever now.

“I felt the same way,” Peeta says softly, catching her meaning. “There are no real winners when it comes to the games, just survivors.”

“Then how do you bear it?” Seeder and Chaff are no help, though they try. They’ve been at it for so long, they don’t remember how they even began in those first months and years anymore.

“I don’t know. Sometimes it feels impossible to take any joy at all, I won’t deny that. But there’s so much good out there too, and that shouldn’t be wasted. So, what I like to do is make lists - every act of goodness I’ve seen. What have you got… 10? 11 more stops left?”

She shrugs.

“We’ll both play. Start easy, find just one good deed per district. I’ll do the same here. Then you can give me a call when you get home and we can compare notes.” He looks at her, his blue eyes suddenly bashful, “that is, if you want.”

She smiles, “I think I’d like that.” She already has a head start as she begins the list in her head: District 10 - the boy with the bread.

[xetlynn]

The Hunger Games- The Protector: Chapter Three, The Interview

(Peeta Mellark x Reader)

[two] [three] [four]

"Throw the metal thing over there." I nudge Peeta. He gives me a dirty look.

"What? No. Haymitch said we're not supposed to show our skills." He argues with me, I roll my eyes.

"Those guys are looking at you like you're a meal, throw it." I ignore what he said about Haymitch. The blond glances over to the guys, defeated he does as I say.

I see the Careers grow impressed and I walk away with a tiny smirk. If anything Peeta can ally up with them, make it far in the Games.

I walk away, going to the spears. I probably shouldn't but I need to see what I'm possibly working with. I picked it up. It was hefty, obviously better than anything I've ever had hunting with Gale and Katniss.

I swing it around, stabbing the air. It wasn't something I wanted to work with. I placed it back moving along to the other weapons. The knives were nice, easy to throw. I'll have to make sure I get a few in the Game.

I bite the inside of my cheek, walking around, observing the others and how they fight.

Districts 1 and 2 being slight show offs. Not surprising though.

I spot Peeta in the camouflage station, raising a brow as I walk over to him. "Hi." I speak up. "Hey." He mutters, doing some final touches.

"How did you do that?" I ask him, admiring the work. "I uhh, I used to decorate cakes down at the bakery. I'll show you." He goes next to the tree, showing how similar it is. "See?"

"Wow, that's amazing." I compliment him. "Yeah, thanks. Hey, I think you have a shadow." He directs my focus over to the little girl from 11, who I found out is named Rue. She hides behind a pillar.

I give her a small wave. I don't know how anyone could kill her. The thought brings me back to the whole point of why we're here. My chest tightens.

"Tomorrow they'll bring you in one by one and evaluate you. This is important because higher ratings will mean sponsors. This is the time to show them everything. There'll be a bow, make sure you use it-"

"Haymitch, I told you I'm not the best with a bow." I stop him, he sighs and looks at me. "Peeta said otherwise yesterday, just try, sweetheart." He then continues on with what he was talking about as I slump down.

"Peeta, you make sure to show your strength. They'll start with District 1 so the two of you will go last. I don't know how else to put this. Make sure they remember you." He instructs us. The two of us look at each other then back to our mentor. Nodding to let him know we understand.

We've now been waiting in the Training Center for our evaluation. It's been a while and while each person goes in I wonder what they showed them.

How will I compete against any of them? Would I even want a high score? If I get a high score that means that the rest of the districts are going to target me as being lethal.

Wanting to get me first. But if I get too low that shows me as weak, they might want to get my kill over with but that also means I can act weak and they won't know my true strengths. Less sponsors as well. I need the sponsors though. I'll just listen to Haymitch...

"[Name] Everdeen." The caller announces my name and my breathing hitches in my throat.

Immediately I feel like I'm going to throw up as I stand up. "Hey, [Name]. You got this. Shoot straight." He encourages me, I nod my head as I enter the room where the Gamemakers have been. I observe them, they're obviously bored.

I grab a bow and arrow.

"[Name] Everdeen. District 12." I announce myself, getting into position. I pull the arrow back then release but I miss the center.

I hear the Gamemakers laugh, turning away from me. I grab another arrow hitting the center then another that hits the other one, splitting it right in the middle.

When I faced the men above me nobody was paying attention. I breathe heavily, the adrenaline in my body coming out. I notice the roast pig on their table. An apple in its mouth.

I think about Katniss. How she taught me to aim for the squirrel's eyes. How she told me I was getting better and better.

How I knew if she was in my spot she would because sometimes she makes reckless decisions. But it's okay because I was there to protect her. If I do this though, who would be there to protect me?

"Hey, hey, who ordered this pig?" Seneca Crane questions the other men as they begin to crowd it and I knew this is the one chance I had to do something reckless.

Without giving much thought I quickly pulled the arrow back and shot the apple. The Gamemakers stare at me in shock.

I take a bow, "thank you for your consideration." I place the bow and arrows back. Leaving the room.

Oh god, why did I actually do it? How stupid am I? My family could get hurt. Prim, Katniss, Zayden. Oh god, oh god.

I ran to a trash can as the adrenaline left my body and so did the food I ate this morning.

"Hey, what happened?" A voice asks me after I finish throwing up. I lean my arms against the sides.

"Haymitch?" I mutter out. "It's me. Why are you throwing up." He helps me stand up correctly. "I did something so stupid." I hide my face in my hands. We begin to walk away so no one can hear what I did.

I explain how I missed the first shot and when I did the second and third they weren't paying attention, I got mad so I shot the apple. He was quiet the whole time I spoke. But when I was done he began to laugh. I furrowed my brows. "What's funny about that? They could hurt my family." I exclaim.

"[Name], they would've told you that. They let you walk out. That's nice shooting." He nudges me and I roll my eyes. "I can't believe I missed the first one." I frowned.

"Are you crazy?" Effie yells at me, pacing back and forth. "I just got mad." I mumble. "Mad? You realize that your actions reflect badly on all of us. Not just you." She tells me but Cinna steps in. "They just want a good show. It's fine." He assures her.

"How about it's just bad manners, Cinna! How about that?" Effie huffs. Haymitch walks downstairs to meet where we all are.

"Well, finally! I hope you noticed we have a serious situation." She seems glad the blond is there, not knowing we already talked about this and it seems he wants to feed in her frustration, acting as if he wasn't there to console me earlier.

"Nice shooting, sweetheart. What did they do when you shot the apple?" He smirks, joining me on the couch. "They looked pretty startled." I tell them.

"Oh? Now, what did you say, "thanks for...?" He laughs. "Your consideration." I joined him.

"Genius! Genius." He claps his hands and then points at me.

"I don't think we're gonna find this funny if the Gamemakers decide to take it out..." Effie's sentence quiets down.

"On who? On her? On him? I think they already have. Loosen your corset, have a drink. I would have given anything to see it." Haymitch tells her in all seriousness.

The television turns on, cutting off our conversation. Caesar Flickerman pops up on the screen.

"As you know the Tributes were rated on a scale of 1 to 12 after three days of careful evaluation. The Gamemakers would like to acknowledge... From district 1, Marvel with a score of 9. Cato with a score of 10, Clove with a score of 10." And so on and so on. The only one I really paid attention to is Rue, she got a pretty high score for her age, it being 7. Then it gets to 12.

"From District 12, Peeta Mellark with a score of 8." Caesar's voice says.

"Peeta!" Effie says excitedly.

"Bravo." Haymitch nods his head to the blond.

"That's great Peeta." I tell him.

"And finally," I sit up straighter. "From district 12, [Name] Everdeen, with a score of... 11." My jaw drops.

"[Name]!" Portia, Peeta's stylist exclaims.

"Outstanding." Cinna says. Effie lets out a whoops.

"Congratulations." Peeta smiles and I thank him.

"I thought they hated me." I let out a breath I didn't think I was holding.

"They must have liked your guts."

"To [Name], the protector from district 12!" Cinna pulls me into his arms.

That's the nickname I got from the Capitol and Caesar Flickman. Being a protector of my cousins. Also showing clips of me in the Training Center when I did small things for Peeta. A little excessive but if it helps me get sponsors.

"She's staring at all my jewels. She cannot take her eyes off them. Frankly it was rude." Portia was complaining about some lady, it was getting annoying listening to these people's problems while in my district we're struggling to even live. These people complain about how a color is out of place somewhere.

"Oh, Haymitch. You should join us. We're having some of your favorite dinner." Effie waves over the drunk man, I tilt my head to the side. Wondering why Effie knows that.

"Oh, lovely." Haymitch hums, joining us at the table. "Where's Peeta?" I ask.

"He's in his room. Now listen. Tomorrow's the last day. And they let us work our own tributes right before the Games so you and I will be going down at 9." He explains to me.

"What about Peeta?" I question, not understanding why we're talking without him.

"He says he wants to be trained on his own from now on." He tells me, I felt my heart sink a little bit. Separate? It was just getting easier knowing I had him by my side.

At least making it a little farther in the games. Maybe even survive off of each other. Even though at the end it would be inevitable to fight we could've let nature take its course. I don't know.

That's dumb to even think. He's probably right about making it separate. Not having us depend on each other and get too emotionally attached to die at the end.

"I don't understand... I mean I do. Only one winner in the end." I try to force out a smile.

"We should have chocolate covered strawberries." Effie switches the subject once the atmosphere gets too serious. I was a little grateful.

"Oh my, yes." Portia claps. "Please." Cinna digs in as well. I sit there silently, thinking about Peeta. I shouldn't have been so nice these past few days.

"Thank you! Thank you! Welcome, welcome, welcome, welcome to the 74th annual Hunger Games! Now in 5 minutes, they're all going to be out here. All of the Tributes that you've heard about. Are you excited? Let me hear it!" Caesar Flickerman announces and I look up to Cinna with wide eyes.

"Amazing." He says in a hushed voice, admiring his work. "I don't feel amazing." I hold myself.

"Don't you know how beautiful you look?" He asks with a smile.

"I mean I am sure I am because of you. But I just have this feeling that no one is going to like me, what if I mess up? Say the wrong thing?" I begin to panic, holding my chest now.

"You made me like you. You're a natural with people." He attempts to assure me but I shake my head.

"Out there I have to... try..." I slump my shoulders. I'm just glad I'm the last district because I'm not ready to go out there.

"[Name], you don't have to try as hard as you think. I'll be there the whole time. Pretend that you're talking to me, okay?" He places a hand on my shoulder. I think about it before nodding my head. "Okay."

I glanced in the mirror in front of me, I wore gold makeup, red blush that would make you think I was sunburnt.

My dress was black with gold shimmers around the neckline and then at the bottom. If I twirled it the bottom would ignite in flames. It was beautiful.

"From District 12, you know her as the Protector, and girl on fire! Well, we know her as the lovely [Name] Everdeen!" Caesar shouts and I walk across the stage, it was larger than I thought it was going to be.

I waved to the crowd, forcing a large grin on my face. Thinking about happy moments back home to make it more genuine.

"Welcome! Welcome. Well, that was quite an entrance you made the other day." He says and I nod my head.

"I know it was very electrifying. Feeling everyone's excitement about our outfits." I try not to seem like I was out of breath due to my anxiety. "And being on fire I mean, I was worried somehow due the adrenaline I wasn't feeling the burn." I chuckle as he seems to force out this laugh kind of surprising me.

"When you came out of that chariot, I have to say my heart stopped. Did  any of you experience this as well? My heart stopped." He asks the crowd who agree with him. "So did mine."

"Now, tell me about the flames. Were they real?" He switches to the next question. I look over to Cinna who nods his head.

"Yes, I'm wearing them today. Would you like to see?" I ask. "Wait, wait, wait. Is it safe?" He nervously laughs. "Of course."

"What do you think, folks?" The crowd screams in response.

"Ha ha ha, I think that's a yes!" The both of us stand up, his off to the side. I go away from the chairs and begin to twirl around, the flames coming out. I hear the crowd cheer so I start to slow down but in heels it's a little difficult. Caesar helps me balance.

"Woah, steady! Lovely, thank you. That was really something. Thank you for that." He says as we sit back down.

"I have one more question for you. It's about your cousins. You seem to have some protector energy. We were all very moved. I think, when you volunteered for her at the Reaping. Did they come say goodbye to you?" He asks, my chest tightens thinking about them. I take a breath before speaking.

"Yes, they did."

"They did, and what did you say to them in the end?" He quizzes, I look to Cinna again. I didn't want to tell him something so personal and vulnerable but with Cinna. I can so I need to focus on him.

"I told them that I would try to win. That I will give my all to come back home to them." I say .

"Of course you did. And try you will. Ladies and gentlemen, from District 12, [Name] Everdeen, The Protector!" I wave them goodbye, hurriedly but in the same slowly leaving the stage.

"You did it, darling. That was incredible." Effie pulls me towards her. "Thank you." I give a polite smile.

"Nice job, sweetheart." Haymitch tells me. "Thank you." I repeat. "Nice dress, too." He then whispers to Effie. "Not yours."

"Please welcome, Peeta Mellark! Peeta, welcome. How are you finding the Capitol? Don't say "with a map." Caesar laughs.

"It's different. Very different from back home." Peeta answers. "Different? In what way? Give us an example." The host questions, looking very interested. "Uh okay, well, the showers here are weird."

"The showers?" He's surprised by the boy's answer. "Yes."

"Do we have different showers?" Caesar asks, looking at the crowd who are shocked as well. "I have a question for you, Caesar. Do I smell like roses to you? Take a whiff." Peeta scoots closer to Caesar who's hesitant. "Um, alright?"

"Hmm... yes. Do I smell like it?" I fold my arms, feeling a little cold as I listen to this. Watching on one of the screens.

"You definitely smell better than I do." The crowd's laughs make me a little self conscious about my interview now. Feeling like I bombed it. "Well, I've lived here longer." Caesar points out. "That makes sense."

"Very funny. So, Peeta tell me. Is there a special girl back home?" He grows serious asking this question as if it was very important to him.

"No. No, not really." Peeta shakes his head. "No? I don't believe it for a second. Look at that face. Handsome man like you. Peeta... tell me." Caesar denies what he's been told, so shocked about it. I step a bit closer to the screen.

"Well, there is this one girl that I've had a crush on forever now." He says, the crowd all "awes"

"But I don't think she actually recognized me until the Reaping."

"Well, I'll tell you what, Peeta. You go out there and you win this thing, and when you get home, she'll have to go out with you." Caesar advises him.

"Thanks, but, I don't think winnings gonna help me at all." The three stylists behind me feel for him as I just stare at the screen. "Why not?"

"Because she came here with me." Peeta says and I feel like my world just got dizzy. How... How could he say that? Use that in something like this? I look back to Haymitch who has his hands up defensively.

"Well, that's bad luck." Caesar frowns. "Yeah it is." Peeta agrees. "And I wish you all the best of luck." Caesar tells him.

Peeta thanks him, he leaves the stage and I go up to him.

"What the hell, Peeta? Why lie and put me into it!?" I pin him against the wall.

"You say you want to train alone, I understand that but then you drag me into some love story that's not even real!? What if I had feelings for you as well? Huh? You put it out there during our last days! And not even to my face!" I angrily shout in his face.

"Stop it! Stop it!" Haymitch pulls me away from him. "No! I want to know!" I scream.

"He did you a favor." Haymitch tells me and I huff. "He did something stupid. I don't care if it helps. I should've known beforehand if that's the play we're using." I glare at my mentor who sighs.

"It helps that you didn't know. You could've slipped up. You seem to be very anxious even under all that pride. He made you look desirable, sweetheart." He explained to me but I just scoffed.

"He's right, [Name]." Cinna jumps into the conversation.

"Of course I'm right. Now I can sell the star crossed lovers from District 12." Haymitch smirks. "We are not star crossed lovers." I argue.

"It's a television show! And being in love with that boy might just get you sponsors, which could save your damn life. Ok. Why don't you get out of here. Maybe I can deliver you both in one piece tomorrow." Haymitch points out of here. Peeta already left with his stylist. I shake my head in disbelief.

"Manners." I hear Effie whisper as I walk away.

Masterlist

P.M. ML

Taglist: if you want to be added lmk!

[daisyjonesgf]

You think at some point in her sleep while in district 13 sweetgirl cries out for Conway and Katniss asks Finnick about him. She of course knows the basic stuff but doesn’t know truly how close the two were. It makes her feel so bad for sweetgirl, Katniss has a guy best friend who’s in love with her, someone she’s grown up with, someone who is like her family.

-🌾anon

this got me thinking about how sweet girl probably tweaked out when peeta did the whole "she came here with me" thing during his interview but like she couldn't have a response right away since she was a mentor at the time but like she's instantly panicking inside bc she's getting flashbacks to her own strategy

finnick instantly is grabbing her hand and whispering something to reassure her, and she's keeping her smile on the best she can, encouraging the district 4 tributes once they're off, forcing herself through dinner, but once she's alone with finnick it's just a complete meltdown

(also another side tangent, I was thinking about how in sweet girl's perspective she feels extra bad in her games for conway bc finnick is one of their mentors but is trying to help her win against him, she feels like it makes it worse that she had the advantage, when realistically that's why there's two mentors for districts when available, to help individually with strategy, so like Ondine should have and maybe was helping Conway strategize on his own unbeknownst to sweet girl since we only really have her perspective on that, meaning he could have known about her plot deep down bc Ondine would have been trying to make him aware of it. He would've wanted to deny it, but it does make you wonder how long he was suspicious before she really firmly confirmed it and how much he was playing her too that sweet girl and finnick in their perspectives didn't pick up on)

ANYWAYS still on the first side tangent, sweet girl just absolutely sobbing because she didn't want to be an example and she's scared that's what she's become. when really peeta does love katniss, like maybe haymitch encourage the strategy bc of her being so successful, but peeta wants katniss to win and really does love her. and finnick and sweet girl's tributes both die pretty early on so she has so much time to watch and observe the interactions between peeta and katniss instead of trying to manage sponsors.

she is convinced katniss is faking it back, that it's an act, and it makes finnick believe it too. but absolutely nothing compares to the crash out sweet girl would have when they both win, not bc she's not glad that they both survived meaning less people died, but because it means that could have been her and conway. if she had been smarter, a better person, rather than just being concerned with her own survival and who she really lover, she could have kept the act up forever to try and save him, save them both. but she didn't and it haunts her for months on end. legendary, sobbing, breaking stuff level breakdown.

ANYWAYS SKEWING BACK TO THE MAIN ASK TOPIC I'M SO SORRY finnick would also tell katniss about that

like finnick is talking to katniss about that and how it the quarter quell both of them realized katniss and peeta did really love each other. and katniss yk does know what happened in sweet girl's games, a manipulator was her initial assumption of her that she got over, but the story about her breaking down and when katniss is sneaking around when she shouldn't be, hearing sweet girl call out for conway she wants to know more.

so finnick tells her all of it, how conway and sweet girl grew up together, were best friends, did everything together, his family was basically hers, he was her shoulder to cry on especially when finnick had broken her heart, and how when the chips were down she had to lay all those years of love and friendship and trust aside to put her family first.

and listen I love katniss, she's my #1 girl, but I do think it's fair to assume she would still in her mind at the very least still look down on how sweet girl won her games. she'd be thinking 'I could never do that to gale' but then she would remember how she had thought she was only pretending to love peeta at first, how the plan with the berries was just quick thinking on her part, conway had attacked sweet girl before the games were even up, there were still other tributes alive. sweet girl killed him out of self defense, regardless of her plan to manipulate him to win the games, she didn't want to kill him herself, she just wanted to survive, and katniss understands that too.

who knows how it would have played out if sweet girl and conway had made it to the final two, if she'd never slipped up and ruined the fantasy. would she have actually attacked first when it came down to it? would he? it's easier to absolve sweet girl when the actual death of conway was in response to him stabbing her first.

I'm so sorry, this was all over the place, but I had like one billion different thoughts that it made come forward 😭

[aquanova99]

Haunted (Cato x Reader)

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Part 11

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

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Y/n’s POV

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

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

“Did you sleep okay?”

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

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

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

“I should go meet Katniss.”

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

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

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

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sleep in.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You picked those yourself Madge.”

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

“She makes a good point.” You offer

“It feels like I haven’t earned it.”

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

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

“So where are you hiding your mentor?”

“You brought Cato here?”

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

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

“Are you going to see your mom today?”

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

“Do I need to know something?”

“What? Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s your point, Katniss?”

“You two are just…close.”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah I couldn’t either.”

“Are you going to come hunting on Sunday?”

“Isn’t Sundays a you and Gale thing?”

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

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

“It might have gotten better.” She offered

“I don’t want to find out.”

“Then it can just be this one Sunday.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you think I can do this?”

“Yes.”

“Honestly?”

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

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

“What did I miss today?”

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

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

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

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

“Y/n?”

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

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

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

“We can start tomorrow.” Enobaria says

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And just where the hell are you going?”

“Brutus, relax.” Enobaria tries

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you eat yet?” You ask them

“No. You?’ Mallory replies

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

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

“I don’t mind—” you start

“I want to make something.” Amal interrupts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cant sleep?”

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

“You don’t mind?”

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

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

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

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

You…

Did…

This…

To ussss…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I guess I’ll find out.”

“Can I come with you?”

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know…”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry.”

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

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

“She just needs to get used to it.”

“She said no.” Cato says firmly

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

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

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

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

“Or what?” He starts

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

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

Drip

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

Drip. Drip.

“Katniss, Gale. Go.”

“Y/n…”

“But—”

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

Drip…

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry.” He mumbles not making eye contact

“Its fine Cato, really.”

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

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

“Y/n. Stop.”

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

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

“I wasn—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cato’s POV

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

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

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

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

“So, how’d it go?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry.” She says softly

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

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

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

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

“Why didn’t you use it?”

“I didn’t need to.”

“Y/n…”

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

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

“I guess.”

“You cant guess Y/n.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You should get some sleep.”

“Are you sure?”

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

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

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

“What did you see?”

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

“Do you want to talk about it?”

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

“I thought you hit him.”

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

“Y/n you couldn’t have saved her.”

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

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

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

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

“You aren’t a monster. Okay?”

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

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

“Come in.” Y/n says groggily

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I trust him.”

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

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

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

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

“Y/n. Shes not wron—”

“I said don’t.”

“I need a favor.”

“Cato…”

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

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

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

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

“Yes, ma’am.”

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

“Why him?” You immediately protest

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

“What about you guys?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I still think this is a mistake.”

“I know.”

“You’re sure?”

More than anything, actually. “Yes.”

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

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

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

“So what happened yesterday?”

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

“Yeah. How bad?”

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

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

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

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

“How did the interviews go?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ve gone before?” You ask

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

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

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

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

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

“So what happened today?”

“What do you mean?”

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

“More worried.”

“Because of what Enobaria said this morning?”

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

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

“Could you?”

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

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

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

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

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

[thegreenthepeacetheorange]

Everlark (The Hunger Games, Ch. 20)

(in which they easily fall into being a married couple)

"getting the broth into peeta takes an hour of coaxing, begging, threatening, and yes, kissing" - this is so funny. threatening?!

it's like once they've started kissing, they can't stop. like it's an absentminded habit

katniss gets into the sleeping bag with peeta and it's "toasty warm" and she "snuggles down gratefully"

she acknowledges that by teaming up with him, she's made herself much more vulnerble but decides to trust the "instinct" that made her go looking for him even when she knew he was injured (i thought you said it was so the district 12 people weren't mad at you, katniss?)

"i woke up and you were gone... i was worried about you" peeta got his girl again and decided that's it, we can never be separated

peeta's capacity to flirt with/tease katniss while possibly dying is truly remarkable. his humour is really something special and so easy in such horrific times for them. never forget what the movies took from us

"he catches my hand and presses it against his lips. i remember my father doing this very thing to my mother and i wonder where peeta picked it up" - three things: one, peeta resembling her father again; two, peeta showing her love and she recognises it as love; three, her wondering where peeta got this from lol

as she lies to sleep, peeta brushes the hair off her forehead and this seems to be a specific thing they do for each other (my mind is brought to her doing it to hijacked peeta to help him sleep), but it starts right in this little cave, their little treasured intimacies. katniss notes that unlike the staged kisses/caresses they've had so far (how many of them were really staged though), that him doing this to her is natural and comforting and she doesn't want him to stop. she falls asleep as he does it.

peeta "brightening" when katniss returns even though he's miserable. he is so obsessed with her

so far katniss has been thinking peeta is acting with her but she chooses not to tell him a happy story involving gale because she thinks it won't go down well with him (or the audience) - so in some capacity she must sense that he is legit 'competition' for gale and that he doesn't like the idea of gale and her together.

the whole conversation about peeta saying he's gonna pay for himself since she's saved him and her asking him what he cost her again (a bit flirty maybe hm) and him saying a lot of trouble but that she'll get it all back. they're too much. flirting in a cave while all this (gestures to the games) is going on

him knowing when she's lying. which is interesting because at the end of the book when he finds out she was acting, he's caught off guard. and katniss isn't a good actress which leads me to believe whatever he's feeling from her is pretty damn genuine

the movies really took away so much of peeta's character traits. like boy is stubborn, he won't go down without a fight and they made him a damsel in distress and a weak one at that (think of the magic josh hutcherson could've worked with a better script)

"'what am i supposed to do? sit here and watch you die?' he must know that's not an option. that the audience would hate me. and frankly, i would hate myself too, if i didn't even try" - so here we have her going into a bloodbath alone just so she can try save him. she could win the games alone and no one would be mad at her for it all things considering but she cannot let him die. like she can't bring herself to even think of it

the whole bit where she feeds him the syrup berries and he realises and tried to spit them back up but she clamps her hand over his mouth to make him swallow. these two. "a stray berry stains his chin and i wipe it away" more casual intimacy

[artdivadej]

Survivor's Remorse

Part 16

“I was angry and I don’t really remember it all but, I knew it felt good. The more I destroyed, the better I felt. I started to scratch myself because I could feel that I was losing myself, the deeper I slipped into just letting it all out. I kept going in and out of this...trance? I guess you could call it? Of giddy rage. But it felt so good. That couldn’t have been me if I wasn’t really conscious of the whole process, right? Like, the mutt version still has a handle on me in some ways. It’s like, she’ll always be lurking in the back...waiting for the chance to take over again”

“It sounds like you’re boiling, what is actually quite normal PTSD reactions and triggers, in the same pot that your torture was cooked in. They are similar beasts but they are NOT the same”

“Peeta puts up a good front but...he has PTSD from the Quell too. He and Finnick struggled with the fact that the Capitol had you and Annie bad...it’s a well-kept secret but, they kept each other as sane as they could be, when thinking about you guys”, Johanna admits lowly. “I know Finnick was worried about me, because we’ve always been like siblings, but it’s different when it’s the love of your life. To know that someone was hurting you both...Finnick knows firsthand what it’s like when the Capitol hates and lusts after you. He spared Peeta most of what type of things he knew you’d go through but he didn’t hide it all. Peeta would black out for days at a time when he thought about it for too long. They’d find him in broom closets just mumbling to himself, in the kitchens pounding away at dough until his hands were raw, at odd hours of the night, unable to sleep. I know he probably hasn’t told you this stuff but...he didn’t do as well as he acts like he did. It’s one of the reasons they had to rescue us. Peeta wouldn’t speak for the rebellion without you anymore. He couldn’t. He was losing control of his sense of reality too”

“I didn’t know. I thought...I just assumed he’d be ok”

“He wasn’t, believe me”

“Ms.Mason”, Aurelius warns.

“I’m not under some hypocritical oath doc, you are”, she snarks .

*****

Excerpt from Ch. 16

Marked

Up on Wattpad now

[deepdonutkid]

Matching wounds

Pair: Katniss Everdeen x Peeta Mellark (forever everlark)

Requested: none

Warnings: ptsd, nightmares, needles, tattoos, thought of self-harm

Summary:  During the Victory Tour, she is more than just temped to seek Peeta’s comfort once more. Yesterday, she asked him to stay with her and he did. She doesn’t want to keep bothering him again with her horrors, because she knows, he would do it without batting an eye and she already feels guilty using him like that. But after one terrifying nightmare, her longing surpasses her conscience. Just when she sneaks to his train compartment, she is witnessing his very own pain.

A/N:

This is my first THG fic, please be gentle with me, I’m still unsure, how to portrait the characters. It’s not beta read!

it’s absolutely innocent but doesn’t feel like… Somehow it came out more sexual than I had imagined, but the analogy was right there

The fic takes place in CF after Katniss had the nightmare on the Victory Tour and Peeta helped her with it. I kept it mostly canon compliant, but u know… she felt guilty for sharing a bed with Peeta and I thought, well she would have been a little more resistant at first.

Also I have this headcanon, Peeta loves all kinds of art. Painting, drawing, body art, architecture… stuff like that

gif from @everlarking-always​

By now I should be used to wake up sweaty, shaky and screaming, but I wasn’t. After all those years, one would come to think, it got easier, how wonderfully wrong one could be. I couldn’t handle this on my own accord and it was noticeable. Cinna, my styling team and finally Effie were giving me concerned looks.

The issue was handled Capitol Style. Effie shoved a pillbox in my direction, told me how much to take and send me off to sleep. Normally, I would trust medicine. It helped me a lot in the arena, the remedy for my physical pain. The burns, the cut, the stings, all of this went away with a cream or a plant or something else.

But when I had the first pill in my hand and rolled it around with my fingers, doubts were sneaking in. The bright pink pearl felt heavy, almost like a burden. Then I wondered, if I should lay my internal pain into the Capitol’s hands. Should I really do it their way? Just numb the symptoms instead of treating the cause.

Well, unfortunately, I didn’t have the luxury to think about this further. I had to function tomorrow. Hold a speech and smile for the camera. Look happy, act happy, but don’t actually be happy. Snow had me right there were he wanted me to. By holding hostage of my loved ones, he ensured, I would do anything he wanted me to. Even if it was against my very own belief.

And I was better at following orders, when I got a decent amount of sleep. It was really sad in a way, I’m not able to describe, but that was harder to swallow than that pill Effie gave me.

Of course, it didn’t help. Maybe that’s why I was so conscious about it in the first place. Or maybe I was just lacking the faith for things to get better in order to be better.

Just yesterday, I finally found relief. When I got up in the morning, was looking fresh and almost healthy. The dark circles under my eyes were gone and I was able to read my speech without any mistakes. However, on the inside I was still itching. Something bothered me and I couldn’t point it out until dinner.

My remedy smiled at me across the table, asking me, if I was enjoying my food. Something about the way he looked at me, made me uncomfortable. At first, I misplaced it as the usual amount of awkwardness between us, whenever he exuded his undying love for me, but I was wrong.

It was worse. Guilt was eating me alive. Nibbling on my soul. Then, it hit me. I was doing him wrong once more. Yesterday had been a mistake. Again, I was feeding him false hope. Not sending him away, when he lay next to me, was like poking at his wounds. Maybe even more cruel. Sticking the knife right back in, after he started to get over it.

We were avoiding each other since we got home. Now, we were making some progress again, I blew that all over the place by being so… needy for comfort. Any comfort, no… his comfort. It had to be his. Nobody knew how to help me but him. I didn’t even need to tell him, he just the right thing without being asked to.

That’s why, I shouldn’t slither in old habits. He kept me warm during the Games, not more, not less. By staying with him, I would only hurt him. And I couldn’t see his heart breaking again. At the train tracks in the middle of nowhere, he left something behind, something that was good and pure.

“No”, I kept whispering to myself, while walking in circles in my room. I shouldn’t, but I wanted. And this pressing feeling in my chest was crushing me more with every syllable coming from my mouth. Really, I was forcing myself to stay, and I was losing that fight.

My urge to feel safe once more was stronger than any coherent thought that crossed my mind. So, I stumbled through the dark train in my pajama, searching for him. Every noise that late at night was scary and every light was burning my eyes.

It took me back to a time, where I was little and my father was still alive.  The house was so quiet and moonlight paved my way through the darkness. Then I would sneak into my parent’s bed. My father would grown and my mother sigh, but they took me in nevertheless. It was a bit cramped up there, with all of us in one bed. I never felt safer than.

Perhaps, I was longing to recreate that moment ever since.

Barefooted and brave, I was fighting the darkness. My steps echoed through the corridor, only being muffled once I reached the carpeted area before his compartment.

This need kept me going, even when doubts and worries tried to take me back. These thoughts were trying to bring me to reality, but failed. Only the sound of his muted pant could. Suddenly, I was very aware of my surroundings.

Before I knew, what I was doing, my hand was at the door knob and pulling it aside. The revelation was both, scaring and confusing at the same time. In the glimpse of a second, I had thought about every possible threat and I was ready to deal with any opponent.

However, nothing in my life had prepared me for this scene before my eyes. He was lying in bed, half-naked by the way, and was jabbing his leg with a thick needle. And even in this glim dose of light, I noticed how his fair skin was smeared with his own blood.

While I was still processing, what I just had witnessed, he was pulling the blanket over his leg.

“Katniss”, he hissed with worried eyes: “Why didn’t you knock?” He didn’t even seem surprised to see me in the middle of the night, but he was certainly concerned that I entered without making myself known first.

Well, I thought, he probably wanted to cover up himself. No… his mess. The things he did to himself and all the pain he has been going through since leaving the arena. I know, he must have been suffering just like I did. We had matching wounds… physically and mentally and while those on our bodies have washed away, the others would burden us for the rest of our lives.

But still, I couldn’t understand. Why would he hurt himself like this?  After the Games, after everything, why add more pain?

I walked over to him and pulled the blanket away. He was gripping it tight, but eventually gave in once I breathed: “Why?”

All the sudden, he was wrapping his arms around me. His hand was patting my back. Then I realized, I was crying. Tears were running down my cheeks. Once again, he was comforting my pain, swallowing his own.

“It’s nothing.”, he whispered against my hairline.

I sought this, but not like this. So, I shoved him away and snarled: “It’s not nothing!”

One second to the next, his eyes drew dark. He bit his lip and gulped, while avoiding my gaze.

After a while, he said: “Well, then it’s not like you think it is.”

“I know, what I saw, Peeta.”, I argued, crossing my hands before my chest: “You were hurting yourself. There was blood for fucks sake!”

Instead of answering, he just chuckled, which made me incredibly mad, and then he turned around to the lamp on his nightstand. The flash of light was filling the room and burning my eyes at the same time.

Once I got used to the brightness, I looked at him again. He was really just wearing his underwear. I turned on him.

Technically I had seen him with less, but this felt way more private then next to a river, while he was literally dying. This was intimate in a way I had not expected.

“Look at me!”, he insisted loud and instant, but I shuddered so hard, I heard him say pleading: “If you want to know the truth…”

I pushed the last doubts away and glared over my shoulder. Peeta was way too close to me. All those details I could see. Yes, all those scars were gone. Even Cato’s slash on the upper left leg, which I treated so frantically, was now perfectly normal skin. Maybe that’s why the black stain just above where the injury used to be stood out so much.

My hand was reducing the distance between us inch by inch. Finally, I placed my fingertips on his hip, felt his skin on mine. He let out a hiss, but didn’t move.

“Why is it black?”, I wondered, still looking at the wound. There was a darker line, which was even puffier than the rest.

Peeta blinked. Once, twice. Then he laughed again. I pulled my hand away, while he retorted: “It’s ink. I’m bored. I can’t sleep and the pain keeps me focused.”

Now I was the one to be lost in translation. “Katniss, it’s a tattoo.”, he chuckled: “It’s really not that bad. I swear, I wouldn’t do anything serious and leave you all by yourself.”

That was a lot to take in. I had a thousand questions, but I had to start somewhere. “What’s the idea? I mean… what are you trying to draw there?” My fingers are itching to touch him again. Somewhere in the depts of my mind, I still hear him panting.

He was suggesting me to sit down next to him. So, I did, even though I wasn’t as close to him, as I wished to be. “Don’t freak out, but…  it’s going to be an arrow.”, he confessed.

“Like my arrows?”

“Yes, like the one that saved me from bleeding to death.”

I frowned. Coming to think of it, all I did was trying to forget the Games, but he was putting a reminder of his worst moment there on his body. Like a constant warning. “Why?”

He took my hand and rubbed it with his thumb, which he had done before a million times, but only with cameras around. This was probably the first time he was showing me affection not meant for the public eye. His bright blue eyes were piercing me with a soft and tender look, when he spoke: “I want to appreciate surviving.”

How could he keep saying stuff like that? I couldn’t quite grasp it and started raising my eyebrows at him. Without any words from my part, he explained: “My immediate thought after Reaping was… I am not going to survive this. The only thing I could manage to do was to help you get out of the arena. And everybody else seemed to agree with me on that, whether it was my mother or Haymitch, Ceasar or even the Game makers. Except you.”

A gulp went down my throat. That was the very talk I feared. The next sweeping declaration of love was on his lips.

“I’m grateful to live, even with the tour, even with the uprisings, even with Snow threatening us and all the nightmares… because just months ago I was very convinced, I would be rotting in a grave right now. Somehow, I’m not. And sure, I wasn’t too excited, when you told me, what you did in the arena, but you still managed the unthinkable. By accident you proved all of them wrong, who said, the only thing I can do for you is die.

And when I thought of this, I realized what I had to do. As somewhat of an artist, I bleed ink and paint. So, I just grabbed a needle and started a while ago with two letters. K and E.”

At least he did not mention love, but he did put my initials on his body. I had no answer to all of this. There was just this big relief, he wasn’t hurting himself.

Peeta took a tissue and cleaned the spot on his hips with a bit of water. After a moment of silence, I fumbled for words to say: “It doesn’t look like the tattoos from the Capitol… I like it.”

“Yeah, didn’t you know, there are different styles of tattoos. Some of them are ancient.”, Peeta beamed: “I have a book about it back home. My friends gave it to me for my fifteenth birthday and I hid it under my bed most of the time, because I was afraid my mom would find out.” A nervous chuckle left his lips. “I only read it at night, but I always wanted a tattoo. Just not like the ones from Capitol.”

I didn’t know, he was so into that topic. Slowly, I began to relax, while an idea was forming in my head. “Can you give me one as well?”, I asked with a smile.

His eyes widened with surprise. “You want me to give a tattoo?”

“Yes, I think that’s what I said.”, I nodded.

“Which motive do you have in mind?”

Now I had to think. I was sure, he would try to stop me, but somehow, I really wanted to know, what it feels like. Having a reminder like this on your skin. But what I liked to be reminded of? Peeta chose his survival, maybe I should choose mine. Not from the arena of course, but the one, that made me who I am.

“Can you do a little loaf of bread?”, I wondered. A part of me was pleased with the idea, getting a tattoo similar to his. Just like our matching wounds. “And two letters… P and M.”

Suddenly he got up from the bed and walking around. Then he stopped, turning to me, he reassured himself: “You want this?”

“I do, Peeta”, I insisted: “Now hurry up, we don’t have much time left before sunrise.”

“Let me just…”, he mumbled, while running around in his compartment: “grab my utensils and we can start right away.”

Curiously I watched his movements. He was quick, but he sure knew what he was doing. “Where do you want to get it?”

The sound of low thinking left my lips. “Uhmm… I don’t know… nobody where my mother can see it… or Effie. I assumed you would to it on the same spot as yours. On the hip.”

Peeta cleaned his needle with alcohol and grinned goofily at me. “What?”

“You know you’ll have to undress yourself for that… procedure.”

Blood flushed my cheeks and I tried to hide it by looking away. “It’s no problem”, I said, like a liar and started peeling down my pajama pants.

Revealing my legs like that, made me squirm internally. On the outside, I played it down.

When he came back to the bed again, I opened my mouth to say something, but no words escaped. They were stolen from me. “Now lay down and try to relax.”, he demanded.

I tried to follow but while I was robbing over the sheets, my thighs got so warm. It was probably just the flurry. Once again, I gulped.

His hand reached my chin and was caressing it with such tender. “I promise it won’t hurt that much.”, he uttered: “I could never hurt you, not in a million years you know that.”

The sound of his voice ran shivers over my entire body. “No.”, I pleaded: “I’m ready.”

With the utmost care he hovered his hands over my chest, finally placing his fingers on my hip. A moan escaped my throat involuntarily.

He laid down between my legs. “Should it face you or me?” It was a weak attempt to calm me down, but it was helping me regaining my focus.

“Me”, I whimpered, mentally preparing myself of the pain to come. At first, I tried to look away, but then I was to curious, how it would look like. A needle entering my skin.

Heavy breaths shook my chest. Apparently so much, he noticed and glared up with a concerned expression. “We don’t have to do this, you know? Maybe you need time to think about this. It can’t be undone.”

I lift myself up a bit and protested: “No, I want to do this. I really do and there is no better time than now.” Every bit of me is possessed with the desire to understand him. His pain, especially. After all the things he did for me, I owe him at least that.

Peeta nodded firmly and lean back down. His underarm was resting on the inside of my thigh. Once the needle was soaked with ink, he put it in. There was somewhat of a resistance at first, but one the needle passed, it went right through. Since I was prepared, I didn’t flinch. My muscle tensed nevertheless.

There was this pain, not strong and overtaking like the tracker jacker stings, but exciting and new. It gave me goosebumps all over my body. So that was, what Peeta was feeling like. He covered it up, so nobody could see it.

But he showed it to me. Now we had a dark secret. One that only belonged to us and nobody else.

Bravely, I clung to the silk sheets of his bed as he proceeded. With every stich of the needle, I became more and more sure, this was what I wanted. What I needed. A companion in the darkness and who would be better than the boy with the bread, whose wounds matched mine.

After the tattoo was done, I was unable to move and fell asleep with Peeta next to me. He wrapped his hands around me and I felt safe once more. Once I stopped thinking about guilt and shame, it was ridiculously easy. This time I came to stay.

[tootempted]

Guys I’ve literally never made a post on here but I’m giving it a try 👍🏽🥲

I’m starting a silly little hayffie series about haymitch’s healing process (post mockingjay) and I’m planning to make more within this storyline. I hope you like it🙏🏽🙏🏽

Characters: haymitch, Mentions of Effie, Katniss, Peeta, Mentions of chaff

CW: depression, alcohol use/abuse (obviously), cursing (a lot)

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A Start.

6 months. Today marked exactly 6 months since the war truly ended, since Katniss and Haymitch went home, since he said good bye to Effie.

6 months since he was supposed to stop feeling like he was in so much danger.

On this particular morning, Haymitch heard about this “anniversary” after turning on the news and sitting in front of the T.V with a glass of early morning liquor. Great start to the day. As soon as he hears the news from some talk show host he’s unfamiliar with, he rolls his eyes and turns off the T.V. He barely ever bothers with the thing since all that ever seems to be on is something about the war or the games. How the hell was he supposed to somehow feel better if all he ever heard about was how terrible everything was? Deciding he would rather just be around his geese, he took a swig from his bottle and got up from his couch.

When he got outside, he grabbed the bag of goose food by the white wooden gate enclosing them, and scattered it around the ground. He watched as he leaned over the gate with a ghost of a smile on his face as the geese ate, and then looked up at him and honked, as if to say thank you. Haymitch appreciated his geese. In the rare instance when boredom would get to him, they provided him with something to do, something to put his time into.

Haymitch knew that very soon katniss or peeta would come walking over to his house telling him that they had to continue the book of people that died arbitrarily at the hands of the capitol. Recently, the kids had been pestering him on a near daily basis about what certain people were like for their book. How he felt about them, how they acted, how they died. Yet another blatant reminder of his darkest memories in life. On some days Haymitch didn’t mind it, when the memories of the people weren’t directly tied to some bit of trauma, but on a day like this, where he knew they were getting down to some of the more important people in his life, he wasn’t exactly jumping for joy to answer questions. However, he did know it was something that should be done, and if he could honer the people that he lost in anyway, maybe it would help with some of the unabated guilt he carried with him.

Just as expected, a few minutes later he heard katniss’s voice as she spotted him outside and started to walk up to him.

“Haymitch, me and Peeta have another person to ask you about for the book.” She said as he turned from the geese to look at her.

“I know.” He sighs. He can tell by her face that it’s not gonna be someone Haymitch will want to talk about. “Who is it? A family member? A classmate? Might as well just tell me now, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. He hadn’t called her that in a while. She notices he only calls her that when he’s in a certain pushy mood, like when he’s upset but doesn’t want to say that he is. Either that or he’s genuinely being sincere, but she could guess by his tone that sincerity was not the case right now.

“Haymitch, you know I’m not gonna tell you until you agree to come over and answer the questions. That way your responses are the most real. Please just come today, you know it should be done.”

Haymitch gives a heavy sigh and looks at Katniss with a face telling her that he knows she’s right. “yeah, fine.” He says.

Sitting down on the same chair he always does in their living room, he flips through everyone they already have written down for the book, past tributes of Haymitch’s, notable capitol rebels, The fallen tributes from the 74th games, and most recently, Wiress and Mags. He remembers them asking him a few questions about the two, and that’s when he knew they were getting down to some of the people closer to their hearts. Peeta and Katniss had obviously been trying to avoid the deaths that upset the three of them the most, but Haymitch knew eventually they were going to have to get to them soon.

He closed the book when Katniss came in the room. “Okay, are you ready to start?” She said with pen and paper in her hand

“As ready as I’m gonna be.” Haymitch answered.

Katniss nodded at him, but then hesitated to start talking. She glanced at Peeta in the corner of the room for reassurance and he met her with a comforting nod. Katniss cleared her throat before saying, “Haymitch, what do you remember about Chaff?”

Haymitch froze. He hadn’t thought about chaff in a while. When he died it was in the midst of so much chaos; Trying to get Katniss and Peeta out of the arena, the building revolution, preparing to get to 13; With everything that was happening Haymitch hadn’t even properly grieved the death of his best friend. Not that he has ever properly grieved before, he knows that he usually just carries the baggage with him wherever he goes.

“…Haymitch?”

Katniss was looking at him with concerned eyes and he realized that he still had to answer the question.

“Oh, um…” he cleared his throat, his emotions now trying to well up in his face, but he was not going to let them.

“Chaff was..He was the winner of the 45th games…he took to drinking, like me, and we talked to each other a lot.” Haymitch tried to avoid anything positive about him because he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold his emotions back if he brought any of the things he missed the most about Chaff.

“Okay. Anything else? Anything about his personality?” Katniss asked. She knew how he was avoiding any personal information. It was hard for her to ask these types of questions, because she knew that it was easier to just try to push down the memories of everyone that died rather than go through all the motions of grief for every single person they lost. Still, she knew it was supposed to be healthy to grieve, and she knew they had to make the rest of this book.

Haymitch sighed. “Yeah, fine.” He breathed out. “I mean, I don’t know, he was funny, He was loud and extroverted but not obnoxious,” Haymitch started to forget that he was trying not to get emotional. “he was a damn genius and he always said and did whatever the hell he wanted without caring about what anyone else thought.” He said with a smirk and a scoff-y laugh. He paused for second. Katniss and Peeta listened with small smiles as he then continued.

“He was kind. To me, at least. Wasn’t too fond of many others, in fact. He cared a lot about me. He’d stay sober and make sure I wouldn’t drink too much whenever I had shit days. He humored my drunk thoughts. They’d become the kind’a jokes only we got… I’ll miss Chaff. “ Haymitch said, still smiling without even realizing how deep he got. He also didn’t realize until now the single tear that feel down his face.

“Damn it.” He said under his breath.

But he wasn’t truly upset about it. Surprisingly, it felt good to remember him, like he was still with him.

Katniss and peeta had the same small smiles on their face when she finished writing his last few words about Chaff. “Thanks, haymitch.”

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guys I’m sorry I didn’t get to hayffie or anything too eventful in this one but I promise this is gonna be a series and this is not the end🙏🏽🙏🏽 also it may be happy now but it may not stay that way-