#and Katniss is the best mother!!!!

[mostremote]

There Is a World Elsewhere spoiler teasers~

Chapter title: Motherhood

[rosaaeles]

not to be dramatic, guys. but sometimes i think about how much i love katniss everdeen and my heart actually physically hurts

[deepdonutkid]

do you ever think about self-conscious Peeta Mellark? 💔

[dykesbat]

the thing is the morphling madge brings over for gale says so much more abt madge and katniss and the friendship between mrs everdeen and mrs undersee than it ever will say about madge and gale’s relationship.

[nunyabznsbabes]

Katniss is like Lucy Gray this, Katniss is like Sejanus that, and yes fine that's all good and true and lovely but Katniss Everdeen is also a direct parallel to Coriolanus Snow and people NEED to start talking about this because it's driving me crazy.

Think about it: they both grew up poor and deeply vulnerable, losing parents at a very young age, with a matriarchal adult (Katniss' mother and Coriolanus' Grandma'am) who fails to provide for them emotionally and physically. They intimately understand the threat of starvation, even developing with stunted growth because of it, and their narrations in the books share a fixation on food. Throughout their childhoods, both experienced constant fear and suffered a fundamental lack of control over their circumstances. Because of this, they're inherently suspicious of the people around them. They resent feeling indebted to others, especially those who have saved their lives. They're motivated almost entirely by family and deeply connected to their communities. Both are used and manipulated by the Capitol, both are forced to perform to survive and despise every inch of it, both are thrown into the Arena and made to kill. Both have a self-sacrificial, genuinely sweet sister figure acting as their conscience. Peeta and Lucy Gray - performers and love interests with a fundamental kindness and sense of hope about them - fulfill markedly similar roles in their narrative. Both contribute to the development of the future Hunger Games, Snow throughout tbosas and Katniss towards the end of Mockingjay.

It's easy to ignore these similarities because, as mirrors of each other, they are exact opposites. Katniss is from District 12, viewed and treated as less than human; Snow is the cream of the Capitol crop, given the privilege of a name with social weight, an ancestral home, and the opportunity of the Academy despite having no more money than a miner from 12. Katniss has no agency over her life, and responds by being kind whenever she's able, while Snow justifies horrendous evils in order to continue his quest for complete control. Katniss does everything she can to protect her family; Snow does everything he can to protect his family's image as an extension of his own ego. Katniss loves her District and connects with its inhabitants on a meaningful level, but Snow is indifferent at best to his peers - the apparent "superior people" - and only engages with his community for personal gain. Katniss emerges from the Arena horrified at herself and the system, but Snow takes his trauma and turns it into an excuse to perpetuate the violence with himself at the top. Katniss cares for Prim until her death and then snaps at the loss of her little sister, while Snow survives on Tigris' blood, sweat, and tears and then torments and abandons her, presumably because she calls him out on his insanity. Snow actively adds to and popularizes the Hunger Games because of his vendetta against the Districts following his childhood wartime trauma - Katniss briefly agrees to a new Hunger Games in the pursuit of vengeance, but later stops them from happening by killing Coin and choosing a life of peace and privacy. Snow is obsessed with revenge, but Katniss empathizes with the Capitolites and does what she can to keep them from suffering. He exists in a cruel system and selfishly upholds it; she exists in a cruel system and works to dismantle it for the good of her family and community, at great personal cost. And Peeta and Lucy Gray are incredibly similar, but Katniss and Peeta forge a relationship of genuine love and understanding that shines in comparison to Coriolanus' obsessive projection onto Lucy Gray.

So, yeah, Katniss is Lucy Gray haunting Coriolanus. But I bet you anything that eighty-something year old President Snow looks at her, the girl on fire, bright and young and brilliant, emerging from a childhood of starvation with a relentless hunger for success, a talented and charming performer helping her win the Games, and he sees the ghost of his own past. And that's why he's so afraid of her! Because if he sees himself in her, then he's up against his own cunning, his own talent for manipulation, his own charisma, his own genius. He's up against the version of himself that he once wished to be, with the nightmare army of his childhood at her back and her star-crossed lover at her side, spewing Sejanus' truths in his own voice. This isn't to say that Katniss ever achieved the level of power and agency that Coriolanus did during her time with the rebellion, but it is to say that Snow was taken down by what truly terrified him - his own morality, come to finish the job.

[a-aexotic]

HEYYYY! So like every other mf on the planet right now I am in my hunger games era!!

Please could you write a Finnick x Reader where she is selected for the quarter quell (Maybe in her games she was lethal and killed like 10+ people?)

And when Katniss shoots the arena in catching fire she gets taken by the capitol (Like Peeta) and they torture her and shit? Then Finnick and her get there reunion she’s all like battered and bruided and it’s dead sad? Not sure if this made sense because i’m half asleep and dyselxic but let me know😭🤣

Maybe he says “It’s okay baby i got you” ??? x

hey of course i can! i hope u enjoy it babe <3 its a tiny bit long! my apologizes

cw's: angst, mentions of killing/dying, typical thg stuff, torture, ptsd, lmk if i missed anything

You were one of the youngest victors alongside Finnick, being only 15 and having won your games. You were also from District 4. You won the 68th Hunger Games, a few years after Finnick.

When you were reaped, Finnick and Mags were your mentors. Finnick came off as self absorbed and arrogant but once you started talking to him, the more you realized that was total bullshit. He wasn't how the Capitol portrayed him, he was much more caring and compassionate. He was very sympathetic to your situation, having gone through the same things.

During your time in the arena, you were one of the most ruthless tributes of all time. In the beginning, you were easily overlooked. The tributes weren't thinking that you were going to be much of a challenge because of your size and the way you carried yourself.

But that was exactly how you wanted to be portrayed. You tricked the Careers into thinking you were some naïve little girl, stabbing them in the back (literally) the first chance you got. The Capitol loved the turn of events, cheering you on.

When you had come back home, you had finally understood the intensity of what you had done. You had killed a whole group of people, ending their lives permanently. Those people had lives and family who loved them, and now they're gone because of you.

You suffered through months and months from never ending nightmares. Even getting consoled by your mother didn't help anymore; she doesn't understand. You didn't even feel worthy of food anymore.

You closed off Mags and Finnick when you had come home, driving yourself into isolation and depression. You rarely went out anymore, eating one meal a day and slept more than 80% of the day. Even sleeping couldn't mend the eternal tiredness you had, the void that filled your body.

Finnick had felt more than responsible for your pain. He gave you time before he realized he was just adding to your pain. Even when you didn't communicate back to him, Finnick visited you every day. He gave you advice and told you what he had went through after the Games as well. Eventually you opened up more to Finnick, and slowly, he had become your best friend.

He had told you that numbing it wasn't going to make it go away. He reminded you that you had him and Mags to help you with this process, and that you weren't alone despite of how you felt.

He helped you regain your sense of purpose again, your self image again. Finnick had singlehandedly helped you rebuilt your sense of self again.

He saw a part of you in him, that scared 14 year old boy who was trying to go back home to his parents. He never wanted anyone to feel that, especially you.

He promised you that he would never let anything bad ever happen to you again.

During your Victor's tour, Snow had suddenly deemed you desirable by the Capitol, wanting to sell you as he did with Finnick. Finnick couldn't risk getting involved, wanting to protect his family.

Every night in the Capitol, you were always consoled by Finnick. Every time you had to do a favor, you remember walking to Finnick's room to sleep, not baring the thought of having to sleep alone in the cold bed. He was always there, holding your hand comfortingly as you both slept.

The Capitol adored you both, nicknaming you the princess and prince of Panem. The more time you spent with Finnick, the more the media had speculated a relationship between the young victors.

You and Finnick had connected in many ways. Both having the same trauma, it was easy to talk to him and for him to understand how hard it was.

You and Finnick eventually got together a few years later, then getting married (in secret, of course) almost right after. You were both deeply in love.

Finnick found solace in the thought of always having you by his side, remembering that no one could tear you apart. That was until the Quarter Quell was announced.

You and Finnick were sitting at the edge of the couch, listening to Caesar's words carefully as he explained that this year's Hunger Games was going to be very different.

When it was announced that there will be only be Victors in this year's games, you heard dropped. You looked over at Finnick and he shared the same terrified look on his face.

--

When Annie's name had been called, you without any second thought, put up your hand. "I volunteer as tribute."

The crowd gasped and you looked over at Annie and you could tell she was a bit relived but still scared nonetheless. You immediately embraced her tightly, letting her let out a small sob. "It's okay, you're okay."

Mags looked just as terrified and you took her hand. When Finnick's name was called, you felt your stomach drop. Not only were you back in the arena, but you were with Finnick.

You looked over at Finnick and he looked prepared to fight. You both stood up and he grabbed your hand, raising it up in union.

The trainride to the Capitol was pretty uneventful. Finnick had wanted some time to think about the plan and so did you. A part of you knew what he was planning; he kill everyone else in the arena and then eventually himself, all for you.

As you sat on the bed, you felt the sadness and anger turn into numbness. No amount of crying was going to stop the Quater Quell and you had to be smart.

You didn't want to survive without Finnick. You were either winning with him or dying with him. Life would be meaningless without him.

Finnick knocked on your door slightly, before walking in. You looked up at him and he gave you a small smile. He took a seat next to and took your hand.

"I have a plan."

"Finnick, I know what you're thinking, and no. You're not killing yourself for me."

Finnick looked defeated. "One of us has to survive, Y/N. For Annie. For Mags."

You look a deep inhale, looking away from Finnick. "I don't want to life without you, everything would lose all it's meaning without you."

Finnick felt his heart burst into two pieces as he squeezed your hand. You felt your eyes watering again and you couldn't help but let out another quiet cry as Finnick pulled your head in, as he embraced you tightly.

"Shh, it's okay. I promise, I won't... I won't leave you."

--

It had all happened so fast, you couldn't even comprehend what had just happened. One moment, you were with Finnick trying to find Johanna and Katniss and suddenly there was big loud boom. You were relieved for a moment; Plutarch's plan had worked. Until you realized how far away you were from the others.

You were wandering, trying to find anyone until you heard people behind you. You turned and then you saw some unfamiliar faces; suddenly, your vision went black.

Then, you woke up in a white room. You felt like your stomach had dropped out of your body once the realization hit you; the Capitol captured you.

You were strapped down to a bed and you couldn't move or shake it off. The severity of the situation had hit you; even if by some miracle you did escape, where would you go? How would you find your way to 13 and back to Finnick?

You knew how ruthless the Capitol was to everyone who disobeyed them. Your worst fears had come true and there was no getting out of here.

You heard the door open and you saw some Peacekeepers come in and then you saw the person you dreaded to see most; Snow. You felt like your whole had come crashing down, how could this nightmare become any worse?

"Hello, Y/N."

You didn't respond, resorting to stare at the wall in front of you instead.

He tutted disappointedly. "Out of all the tributes, you were the one I expected least to be involved in this mess. You are the Princess of Panem... What a shame."

You still hadn't replied and you hadn't dared to look at Snow. Months and months you spent trying to heal the trauma he had caused you, you were sure if you had to look at him now, you would break.

"I want to take mercy on you, dear Y/N. If you tell me everything you know about the rebellion, I will make sure the Peacekeepers are gentle with you."

You shook your head. "No."

He let out a small chuckle. "Sorry, I couldn't hear you. What?"

"No." You said again, louder.

He hummed in disapproval. "Okay then, you leave me no choice. You are going to regret this."

He nodded to the Peacekeepers and walked out of the room. You were then met with Peacekeepers, loosening the straps then taking you to another room.

If Snow knew one thing about you, it was that being only physical with you wouldn't hurt you enough. He had to hit you were it hurt most.

They threw you in the seemingly vacant room and immediately locking it. You were confused until you heard it.

"Y/N, help me!" Finnick's voice screamed. "Please, help me! Get up and do something, they're killing me! Please."

You looked everywhere in the dark room, trying to find the source. It kept going.

"Y/N, please! Help! What the hell are you doing, just sitting there? You are such a disappointment!" The voice started shouting. "We should've just left you to died in the arena! You are useless!"

Now this was something new. Your body was filled with panic and fear and even though you knew it was fake, you felt like you were going to throw up from all the noise.

Suddenly, Annie's voice came in as well. Then Johanna's. Then your mother's. There was nonstop noise filled with screams for help, shouting with disapproving messages. Your body couldn't handle it; it was so overwhelmed with fear that you started shaking on the ground, putting your hands on your ears but that did little to nothing.

You wanted it to stop. It was too much, you were trembling. It felt like days, just sitting there in that room listening to all those demeaning voices of your loved ones. You couldn't even think straight anymore.

It was so bad you had started to pound your head on the ground, screaming and crying. You had have enough. And then, it all stopped. Silence was foreign for you; your ears were ringing.

You were sitting on the ground, almost lifeless as the Peacekeepers took you away. Your eyes hurt from the tears, your body sore, your ears ringing and your head was pounding.

But you knew that was just the beginning.

--

You were asleep in bed and you were awakened by the door opening, you instantly jolted up. You looked over to see a group of masked men in front of you and you had started to tremble again, silent tears rolling down your face, thinking that the Peacekeepers had come again.

"No, no, no." You started to mumble to yourself.

A man came up to your and took your bruised hand slowly, rubbing it gently in silent empathy. That was the first soft touch you'd felt in a few weeks and it almost stung.

"It's okay, you're safe now. You're going to 13 now."

You had to blink a couple times, trying to process what he said. Was this a dream? You went to pinch yourself but it was real life.

He then helped you up but you couldn't help but stumble; your legs were weak, you couldn't remember the last time the Peacekeepers let you walk for this long.

As you got into the hovercraft, you saw Annie. Your eyes widened as you both ran up to each other, embracing each other. She had started to cry a little bit and so did you.

That was when it hit you. You were going to see Finnick. You were going home. You started crying into Annie's shoulder as she held you. "We're safe now, we're safe."

You had seen Johanna as well but she didn't seem too responsive. Neither did Peeta. You fell asleep on Annie's shoulder on the ride back and for the first time, you actually felt yourself drifting off calmly.

--

There were lots of doctors and nurses looking at you and asking you all sorts of questions and you tried your best to answer them. You were still in shock; you were safe. They couldn't hurt you anymore.

"Y/N?" You turned around to see Finnick. You immediately got up from the examiner's table and ran into his arms, your eyes starting to water up again.

"Finnick," you sighed slowly. You pulled away, putting your hands on his face and touched him as if he wasn't real.

"Are you.. Are you really here?"

"Yes, I'm really here." Finnick looked at you and suddenly his voice transported you back into the dark room. You quickly twisted out of his embrace and his expression changed.

His voice was back and you heard all of the nasty things he had to you. You back away, stumbling into the examiner's table and your breathing became heavy. "No, no, no, please-please go away. No."

You slid down to the floor and you closed your eyes, putting your hands on your ears and rocking back and forth trying to get that voice to stop.

Finnick ran up to you and put his hands on your knees, trying to get you to look at him. His heart broke in half; he didn't know what the Capitol had done to you but now he knows it has something to do with him.

Of course the Capitol would try to ruin him. His eyes started to tear up at the sight of you, in so much pain and panic.

You opened your eyes, Finnick in front of you. You started to cry some more before Finnick slowly went up to you, wrapping his arms around you.

When he had started wrapping your arms around you, your instinct was to push him away but his warmth was welcoming and safe and you started to focus on his touch. The voices slowly drifted away, the sounds of your silent sobs only being heard.

You then gave into Finnick's touch, falling into him and putting your head in his chest as he caressed your back gently, shushing you.

"It's okay baby, I got you. You're safe now, they can't hurt you."

[ecoterrorist-katara]

“Katara deserves a quiet life after the war, so becoming a healer (who made no contributions to the field) is actually a good arc!”

It is already bizarre to me that in ATLA, Katara is this confident & combative & ambitious girl who LOVED to fight and wanted nothing more than to help as many people as possible…then comics!Katara and TLOK!Katara showed neither her previous personality traits nor a career commensurate with those traits…

but it’s even more bizarre to me that ATLA fans would defend her trajectory as if it were some kind of progressive story of recovering from war trauma.

I’ve seen multiple takes like this. “Katara is not a YA heroine, she’s not a bloodthirsty girlboss who loves fighting so it’s actually a good thing that she doesn’t have to fight anymore” “after everything she’s been through she deserves a quiet life and a loving family”

For Katara, fighting in the war was actually empowering. It didn’t burn her out. It didn’t disillusion her. It didn’t take more out of her than she can give. Katara is not Katniss Everdeen, who needed to step back and discover her own agency and a sense of peace after fighting in a war she never chose to start. Katara’s war trauma largely happened before she took an active part in it. After she chose to be a part of the war, she became a waterbending master, made close friends, found her father again, got closure for her mother’s murder, defeated the Fire Lord, and met the love of her life. If Katara were a real person, maybe she’d be traumatized, but nowhere in the text of ATLA does she exhibit the sign that she’s tired of fighting on behalf of the world. If anything, she just got started.

If you take her post-ATLA arc at face value (vs as bad writing), it’s a tragedy of a woman who has learned to minimize her own relevance and her own power. In The Promise, she begins deferring serious decisions to Aang. She doesn’t even express a strong opinion about the fate of the entire colony of Yu Dao, or the fate of her friend Zuko. In North and South, she accepts Northern encroachment of the South in the name of progress. In TLOK we see her not as a politician or a chief, but rather as “the best healer” — albeit one who apparently never established a hospital, or trained acolytes of her own, or done anything to help people at scale, which she has always wanted to do. It’s even more egregious when you remember that in Jang Hui, she was not satisfied to simply heal the sick as the Painted Lady. She wanted to solve the root of the problem, so she cleaned the river and committed full-on ecoterrorism. Just because the war is over doesn’t mean she wants to stop helping people. In fact, the problem she addressed in Jang Hui is exactly the type of problem that would become more prevalent after the war ends, judging by the rapid industrialization between ATLA and LOK.

In the original ATLA, I think Katara is about as close to a power fantasy as you can get for a teenage girl, because she gets to be messy and goofy and powerful, even though she also had to perform a whole lot of emotional and domestic labour. But post-ATLA, she doesn’t get power and she doesn’t get to make a change. She gets love and a family. That’s it. And her grandkids don’t even remember her. Her friends and peers, on the other hand, were shown doing all sorts of super cool things like, you know, running the world they saved.

It’s not feminist to say that a female character deserves “rest” when she’s shown zero inclination that she wants a quiet life. Women who want a quiet life deserve to get it — I think Katniss’ arc is perfect — but women who want power deserve to get it too, especially when they’re motivated by compassion and a keen sense of justice. There’s nothing feminist about defending the early 2010s writing decisions of two men. Like just admit that they fucked up! It’s fine! Maybe they’ll do better in the future!

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Peeta's household in general growing up seemed to be very chaotic and violent, homeboy is all politics and words for a REASON, he has seen the alternative to words. It's also why he knows a frying pan is effective while not fatal compared to the power of the loyal rolling pin

I feel like if Peeta hadn't gotten hijacked by the Capitol before being rescued, he would've ended up physically fighting Gale after hearing about all the bullshit he was on while Katniss was worried over Peeta and was making friends with other people while in 13. Not out of male testosterone "the fuck you say to my woman" type deal, solely because in what world is that okay behavior towards your best friend??

I don't feel like he'd be graceful about it either. Peeta can easily be unhinged when he wants to be. Dude would wait until Gale's 6'4 ass is stalking down the halls one day on the way to class or smth and just konk him the fuck out with a frying pan. He'd confess too. Better yet, self report. Drag Gale's ass to Mrs. Everdeen in medical and be like "I did it." No regrets.

[destourtereaux]

just a little bit of hope - peeta mellark x fem!reader

⤷ summary: with katniss and gale both gone, peeta steps in as an unlikely hunting partner for y/n. ⤷ wc: 2.6k ⤷ requested? yes. see request here. ⤷ follow @lovebirdupdates and turn on notifs to be on my 'taglist'!

⤷ a/n: two things - one, peeta has dimples here, it's just how i imagine him, so please bear with me; two, pretend gale's father is alive please, i didn't think our girl would be able to support two families, no matter how strong she is.

___

The day is horridly warm, exacerbated by a heavy humidity. As you wake, hot air suffocates your surroundings, and the sun glares through the window, hung on a span of blue sky. Pushing yourself up on your elbows, your bare feet find the ground, then immediately retract. The floor is burning hot, baked by the sun. You grit your teeth and force your feet back onto the wood, ignoring the searing heat. You have things to do.

You make a bowl of porridge, watery, but edible. You drink half, and leave the rest for your mother. Your father is off to the mines already, his boots absent. You get dressed, pulling on the prettiest dress you own. You're ready. Or, as ready as one can be. 

Today, there will be no hunting with Katniss and Gale, no trading at the Hob. Today, there is only the reaping.

___

You spot Katniss at the edge of the square, gripping her sister's hand. Your friend looks nothing like she normally does. Gone are the boots and hunting jacket, replaced by a simple blouse tucked into a modest skirt. You nod grimly at her; neither of you feels like smiling.

Gale is over on the other side of the square, across from the stage they've set up. Your eyes meet, and he mouths "good luck".

After a few minutes of the routine announcements, Haymitch is introduced, then Effie. By now, the crowd has settled into an air of grimness, despite the clear blue sky overhead.

You don't hear Effie's jokes, and nobody laughs. She finally stops smiling, looking extremely awkward – you almost feel bad for her. Almost.

Then, she sticks her hand in the ball of names, each carrying a life, and pulls one out. Her smile is back on her face when she announces, "Without further ado, our female tribute is: Katniss Everdeen!"

You freeze, repeating her words in your head as if hoping they'd sound different. Your oldest friend – determined, brave Katniss, given a death sentence.

But Effie doesn't wait. Her next words are just as devastating. "And for our male tribute: Gale Hawthorne! Come on up now, dear, don't be shy."

Peacekeepers erupt through the crowd, grabbing your two best friends in the entire world by the shoulders, and forcing them up to the stage. Katniss whips her head around, looking at you with pleading eyes. You know what she's asking for.

"I'll take care of her, Katniss. I won't let her die. And you can't let yourself die, okay? Promise me. Katniss! Promise me!"

Your last words are hysterical, but ironically, Katniss is not. Having heard your commitment to Prim, she is satisfied. She yanks her arms free of the Peacekeepers and walks by herself, her head held high and her face serene.

You grab Prim's hand. Her whole body is shaking, wracked with sobs. You don't hear Effie's last words, but you know what they are.

"May the odds be ever in your favor."

___

It's been two weeks since the reaping which stole your best friends. It's shocking how quickly you fell back into routine, as if nothing has even changed. The only indicator of their absence is an added part of your day: splitting your earnings between your family and Prim's.

There are now double the mouths to feed, so you spend double the hours in the forest hunting. Villagers are sympathetic – that may be the only reason you're all still alive. They love Prim, and they trust you. Everything you hunt manages to be traded.

But still, you're cracking. It's just too much, and you don't know if it'll ever get better. You have no idea what Katniss and Gale are going through right now, and you don't let yourself think of them. It would break your heart.

___

Peeta Mellark has always been observant. His teachers told his parents this, back when he was a child. It's this trait that makes him notice you. The girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders, killing herself day after day to provide for not one, but two whole families.

He doesn't understand how no one else sees it. But maybe they do – it's just that no one in District 12 is really in a position to do anything about it. Still, the fact remains that you're close to breaking. You can't keep doing this alone.

Peeta Mellark has never been brave. His mother yells at him, beats him, and he takes it. He has never talked back to teachers, or dared disobey the Peacekeepers. So when he offers to hunt with you, he surprises even himself.

"What?"

"I'm Peeta Mellark. We were in the same class, and my parents run the bakery. I was wondering if I'd be able to hunt with you?"

So you weren't hallucinating. The baker's son – a boy you didn't think could kill a fly – had just asked to hunt with you. Your shock translates into a small laugh, not that anything about the situation is funny, really. Hurt flashes in Peeta's eyes, and you quickly backtrack.

"I'm sorry, that was rude. I'm Y/N L/N, I know who you are. I just didn't think you'd be the hunting type," you explain. Because you're gentle, and kind, and I've never seen you hurt anyone, with your words or physically. But you don't add that last part. 

"I've only ever hunted with Katniss and Gale, you must know them, they were reaped this year." Your voice cracks a bit with those last words, and Peeta acknowledges the fact with a nod. His hand twitches; he wants to pat you on the back, or grip your shoulder, anything to stop the melancholy leaking into your eyes, but he doesn't.

"But you're welcome to join me," you end with a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes.

___

The new partnership starts early the following day. You meet a groggy Peeta near his home, and the two of you begin the walk to the Meadow.

You hear no electrical hum from the fencing, which means it's safe to touch, and you guide Peeta across the boundary which separates the Seam from the forest. This is all illegal, you know, but you're too used to it to even notice. Peeta, on the other hand, feels an exhilarating sense of rebellion as he crosses the barbed wire, following your figure into the woods.

"You've never hunted before, have you?" you probe, although it's more of a confirmation than an actual question.

Peeta nods. "But I'm a quick learner. And I won't get in your way, I promise."

You smile, a genuine one this time. "We'll see about that, Mellark."

Over the next hour, you go over all the traps you had set from the day before, collecting from Katniss and Gale's traps as well. True to his word, Peeta picks it up quickly, and even has a great eye for camouflaging the traps. This becomes his task, using grass and twigs and flowers as his medium, painting a deceptive scene which looks safe and welcoming to the many squirrels and rabbits in these parts.

You also start him on foraging. Only one type of berry is poisonous in the Meadow, and it's easy to identify. You make sure he's clear on which to avoid, and leave him to it, while you head to the hollowed out tree where you've hidden your knives. The familiar sight of Katniss' bow and arrows within the trunk brings a pang in your heart. You leave them nestled within and retrieve only your daggers. You were never a good archer.

Another hour passes, and you return to Peeta with a deer. You're happier than you have been in weeks – this will be enough for almost a week's worth of food. Peeta is not empty-handed either, he has two buckets of progress, one filled with strawberries, the other with raspberries. He gives you a soft smile – he has dimples, you think. He then immediately turns a faint shade of green, having noticed the dead deer. 

You're seized with the desire to laugh, "Why'd you offer to hunt with me if you get queasy from the sight of game?"

He looks at you with an indignant pout, and you can't stop the giggle that tumbles out, then the full on laughter. 

"I'm not like this with all game, just, you know, the larger animals. I can look at dead squirrels just fine – stop laughing!"

Making your way back, within the District, you stop just outside of the fence to split your gatherings.

"Take the squirrels and rabbits, and the bucket of raspberries. I'll keep the deer and trade the strawberries with the mayor," you offer.

"No, you take it all," he crosses the barrier carrying the buckets, and you follow after him, shaking your head.

"I can't, Peeta. That wouldn't be right. This is a fair split."

"I never said I wanted to keep what we hunt. Only that I wanted to hunt with you, Y/N. Take it. I know you need it more than I do. I'll see you next weekend?"

And with that, he pops a strawberry in his mouth, smiling at the sweetness, and walks away.

You're left with your mouth open, unable to process what had just happened.

___

The next morning, you show up at the bakery. His bakery. You earned a few dollars from selling your strawberries to the mayor, and you figure that if Peeta won't take anything, you should buy from him instead.

A few dollars is enough for two loaves of good bread, and so you head to the bread aisle. But your gaze catches on the beautiful cakes on display, decorated with multi-colored icing and swirling script written in melted chocolate.

"I did those," comes a voice from behind you.

Whipping your head around, you see Peeta himself, looking at the cakes with fondness and a bit of pride.

"You did what?"

"The cakes. I decorated them. My mom bakes, but I decorate. I like doing it – it's like painting, just on a different canvas."

"They're really lovely. You have a talent for it," you confirm, "I bet that's why you were so good at hiding traps yesterday. You can see nature's patterns."

He gives you a soft smile in return, and you can see the dimples again. They're adorable, you think. I want to see them every day.

He gives a small cough, looking at you questioningly.

You startle, and blush a deep crimson. "Sorry, I lost my train of thought. I'm here to buy bread. Two loaves," you say as you lower your head to stare down at the ground, refusing to meet his eyes.

It's only when you hear a chuckle that you lift your head back up. Peeta's eyes are sparkling, and his dimples are clear as ever.

"I'll give you three."

___

Two months after the reaping, your partnership with Peeta is still going strong. Every Saturday, the two of you head to the woods, and spend half the day fishing, gathering, and hunting. Originally silent company has evolved into true friendship, with witty banter, fleeting touches, and shared smiles.

You have come to know Peeta Mellark. He isn't just the baker's son, the one who decorates cakes and hates seeing dead animals. He's the boy who saved you, when no one even knew that you needed saving. 

Day after day, he has shown up, offering kindness, companionship, and warmth, without expecting anything in return. You care about him more than you thought you could ever care about someone who wasn't family. You care about his messy blond hair, and you care about his broad shoulders. You care about his blue eyes which sparkle when he tells a joke, and his beautiful heart which leads him to give the occasional customer an extra free loaf. Most of all, you care about his dimples, which come out when he smiles at you. You care so much about him, that it scares you.

And Peeta cares about you. He cares about your hands, calloused but nimble, lethal when holding onto your twin daggers. He cares about your face, how it glows when you laugh at his jokes in the woods, but dims a bit when you're back in the district. He cares about your hair, always tied in a ponytail when in the Meadow, but left to flow freely down your shoulders when hunting's over. Most of all, he cares about your smile, which comes out when Prim thanks you week after week for your help, and forces you to take bottles of goat milk and pet Buttercup. He cares so much about you, that it scares him.

___

This hunting day, Peeta comes with news from the Capitol. A few weeks back, he started giving you updates on the Games, after you told him that you couldn't stomach the thought of watching your friends fight to the death.

"Y/N! Good news!" he greets, exiting the bakery. As the two of you begin your walk, he adds, "I'll tell you when we get to the Meadow."

"You're insufferable, Mellark. You can't just hook me like that, and not tell me what it is."

Peeta doesn't answer, so you start walking twice as fast, ushering him toward the edge of the Seam so you could figure out what exactly he wanted to tell you.

Once in the grassy plains of the Meadow, between the forest and the fence, you turn back to the boy, the impatience evident in your face.

"Tell me, Peeta, or I swear I'll –"

"Alright, alright," he laughs, "but it's not really good news, per se. It's just a little bit of hope."

You nod, urging him to continue.

"It's about the Games. About Katniss and Gale."

The last traces of your smile fade. Concern is etched onto your face, and your eyebrows scrunch up, your jaw tightens.

Noticing this, Peeta pulls you in by the waist, so that your head lands on his shoulder. "It's good news, Y/N. Don't look so defeated. They're both still alive, and they're fighting."

"But at least one of them won't be coming back," you whisper into his neck, so quietly you wonder if he even heard. But Peeta always hears you.

"Y/N. That's the news. They could both come back. Caesar Flickerman has just announced that they will be changing the rules this year – allowing two victors of the Games, provided they're tributes from the same district!"

You look up at him in awe. A change to the Games. Katniss and Gale, not one or the other. Both could win. Both could come back.

You choke down a sob, staring at Peeta's brilliant smile and those mesmerizing dimples. And before you can process what you're doing, you wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his in a bout of bravery.

Peeta's frozen for a second, before he begins to reciprocate the kiss in earnest. He pulls you in, one hand holding your neck and the other wrapped around your torso, pressing himself impossibly closer. He tastes like icing and strawberries, and you can smell the comforting scent of warm bread.

The kiss ends far too quickly for your liking, and you're suddenly impossibly shy, all bravado gone. You lower your eyes so you won't have to meet his eyes, but realize that you're practically sitting on his lap, having moved there at some point during the kiss. This observation brings a flaming blush onto your cheeks, and you scramble to move away, but you're held in place by Peeta's arms, forming an iron-tight cage around your figure.

He brings a hand to your chin, lifting it up, and kisses you again, more gently this time.

"Don't go all shy on me now, Y/L/N," he teases, and holds the back of his hand against your forehead, as if feeling for a fever. "You're burning up, darling."

"You know damn well that's not a fever–", you start, but you're cut off by his laughter, and once again distracted by those dimples of his. 

Maybe Peeta was right. Maybe there is just a little bit of hope left for you.

___

interested in other works of mine? see my masterlist!

[maidragoste]

Chapter One: The Reaping

The Hunger Games AU

Katniss!Jacaerys x Peeta!Reader (I labeled it that even though Jace's backstory is different from Katniss's but he and Reader will be the star-crossed lovers of district 12)

Chapter Two Chapter Three

I really hope you like it because I'm so excited to write this au!

Please let me know what you think in the comments, as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated too 💖💖

My inbox is open so I'm always willing to read your headcanons, opinions and answer your questions.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

Jacaerys entered the Victors' Village, not that he was a victor. In fact, his name had never come up in the reaping. But he and his brothers lived there since his uncle Larys took care of them after his father died in the middle of an explosion in the mines while working.

The teenager quickly quickened his pace while adjusting his grip on the only two squirrels he had brought from all the ones he had hunted during the morning with Baela, his best friend. He may not have needed to hunt for food anymore but he was one of the few people in District 12 who knew how to hunt. Some people had depended on bartering with his father to bring a plate of food to his table. His father would not have wanted him to leave those people abandoned, so every day he sneaks into the forest with Baela to look for deer, rabbits, squirrels, birds, fish, or any type of edible vegetable or fruit. He always gave the best goods to Baela, after all, she had more mouths to feed with her mother, her twin sister, and her two little brothers. But the rest he exchanged with the merchants or even sometimes he practically ended up giving away his merchandise due to the low price that he was willing to accept from the families that he knew did not have enough to eat to prevent them from ending up asking for more tesserae. Uncle Larys had never told him but Jacaerys knew that he thought he was a fool for doing that.

Jacaerys hated the silence in the village but it was no surprise considering that of the twelve houses there, the only house that was being inhabited was his uncle's. Of the seventy-three Hunger Games that have been held so far, there have only been two victors from District 12 and the only one still alive is Larys Strong.

Jace hurried into the house trying to ignore the heaviness in his stomach.

“I told you Luke would throw up again this year! You owe me!” was the first thing Joffrey, his youngest brother, said when he saw him.

Lucerys, or Luke as his dad had nicknamed him, was the middle brother, and every year he had the worst time during Repairing; which was the moment when the District escort went up to the podium and then took a random piece of paper from each glass urn, one containing the names of all the boys between twelve and eighteen years old and another with the names of the girls. This was how the tributes were chosen for each Hunger Games. Like any coherent person in District 12 Luke feared being chosen as a tribute and unlike Jacaerys he could not hide his fear.

“Take this to the kitchen,” the oldest of the brothers asked, handing the squirrels to Joffrey before running to the bathroom.

When Jacaerys entered he found Luke hunched over, holding the toilet bowl. Ignoring the smell of vomit he hurried to his brother's side and with one hand began to rub soothing circles on Luke's back while the other brushed the hair from his face. He doesn't know how many minutes they stayed like this until the youngest finally stopped vomiting.

"I'm sorry, Jace" Luke apologized with a broken voice and tears on his cheeks, clearly feeling ashamed for being in the same position for another year. "I really tried."

"Hey, you have nothing to apologize for," Jacaerys denied as he helped him up from the floor. "It's okay to be afraid. Only an idiot wouldn't be afraid."

"Joffrey is not afraid," the youngest murmured after cleaning his face.

Joffrey must have been the only thirteen-year-old in District 12 who wasn't horrified at the thought of his name coming up in the Reaping. Jacaerys believed it was because Joff thought he would be able to win the games just by being a relative of a victor. Also, of the three, Joff seemed to want Uncle Larys's validation and attention the most. In these three years living with him he had never told them that he loved them but Jace thought that he should at least care a little about them because otherwise he could have let the authorities take them to the community orphanage instead of taking care of them.

"I told you, an idiot," Jace said, managing to get a small laugh out of Lucerys. "Listen, Luke. Everything will be fine. You never asked for a tessera so your name is only on four pieces of paper."

In the first year when you started to be part of the Reaping, they put your name only once in the bowl. But every time you have a birthday they add another paper with your name on it. If you do not ask for any tessera then it is assumed that you will reach the age of eighteen with only seven papers.

Jacaerys always tried to reassure his brother, and also himself, saying that the chances of his name coming up were low compared to all the people who had to ask for tesserae to be able to eat.

"Lucerys, Jacaerys, start getting ready for the Reaping" Larys ordered from below. There was no need for him to shout as the house was silent.

"Take a bath, you stink" Jacaerys mocked, ruffling Lucerys's hair before leaving him in the bathroom.

"Happy Hunger Games! and may the odds be ever in your favor!" greeted Effie Trinket, the District 12 companion, with the same excitement as in previous years.

While Effie gives a speech about what an honor it is for her to be there as a companion, Jacaerys's eyes meet Baela's. She smiles at him and he struggles to return it. Baela is so brave, he doesn't know how she isn't trembling with fear knowing that her name is at least twenty times. Maybe in recent years she was no longer asking for tesserae but before Jacaerys moved in with his uncle she had.

"Ladies first!" said Effie announcing that it was time for the drawing. She approaches the urn with the girls' names and then reaches deep inside and takes out a piece of paper. You can feel the tension in the air and for a moment everyone seems to hold their breath until Effie opens the paper and I read it "Y/n Y/l!"

Shit. Jacaerys knew you. He had seen you more than once at the bakery when he went to buy or exchange his merchandise with your father. Not only that but you two share classes together at school. You weren't friends. But you were still there for his brothers when he was too devastated by the death of his father to care about anyone else. You were the one who stopped some idiots from bothering Luke at school, you were the one who helped Joffrey with his homework to prevent him from repeating a grade, and you, in the only conversation you ever shared, reminded him that he was important to the District, that his brothers needed him, that he could not abandon them, that his father would not have wanted to see him as a ghost in life, that he would have wanted him to help the people of the District.

Jace had to go say goodbye to you, his gratitude may be three years late but he needed to thank you for taking care of his brothers when he had failed them and remind him that he had a purpose.

Jacaerys watches you move towards the stage. Your posture is straight, your chin up and your steps are firm but he can see the uncertainty in your eyes. You still look pretty in your pink dress, it wasn't glamorous at all—no one in the district wears glamorous clothes—but in his eyes, you stood out. It's probably because, unlike other girls in the district, your clothes didn't hang off and your bones didn't show, you didn't look like someone who was malnourished.

Maybe with your beauty and if you had a good interview you could get lucky and captivate a sponsor, he thought. He hoped that this year his uncle would try even harder to bring home a winner.

Once you are on stage Effie asks for volunteers. Of course, no one offers.

“Now it's time to meet our male tribute!” Effie announces, rushing to the boys' urn and pulling out the first piece of paper she sees, “Lucerys Strong!”

This must be a nightmare, Jacaerys thought. They were supposed to be safe, they had never asked for tesserae. He was snapped out of his stupor by hearing Joffrey's desperate cries calling for Luke as his brother began to walk with fear and tears in his eyes to the stage. Jace didn't even think about it, he broke out of his formation and started running after Lucerys.

“I'm a volunteer!” he shouted when the peacekeepers grabbed him, wanting to take him away from Lucerys. “I volunteered as a tribute!” he repeated, standing up straight, once they released him.

"Magnificent!" Effie exclaimed, happy because there was finally some action in the District. "But you are supposed to present the winner of the reaping first and then ask for volunteers…"

"Just let him up," the mayor interrupted her sharply, clearly upset by the situation. He knew Jacaerys because he always bought strawberries from him and Baela.

“No, Jace!” Lucerys said with a trembling voice, still shaking her head. “You can't!”

“Go to Joffrey” the eldest brother ordered firmly, he wanted to hug Luke but he was afraid that if he did he would also start crying and he couldn't do it knowing that the cameras were filming everything. He couldn't appear weak. “Go,” he repeated, pushing him aside and heading to the stage without looking back.

Jacaerys' brown eyes meet yours and the heaviness in his stomach increases. He would have to kill you if he wanted to come home, you, the person who pushed him to move forward after her father's death. He had never thanked you and much less would he do so now knowing that in a few days, he may be the one who ended up killing you. Obviously, luck was not on his side but if you died he really hoped that it would be another of the tributes who would end up taking your life. If it became him and he managed to win the games, Jacaerys was sure that there would not be a day in which he would not think of you.

"Wonderful!" Effie exclaimed once the young man finished climbing the stairs. "What's your name?"

"Jacaerys Strong," he answered.

"I'll bet my shoes he was your brother. You didn't want him to steal your glory, did you?" The companion's smile disappeared before the furious looks of the victor and the tributes. "Good! Let's give a big round of applause to our new tribute!"

But no one applauds. The entire District demonstrates its disagreement with its silence. Not only that, but many people begin to bring the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and then point them at Jacaerys. He looks shocked as they give him that gesture. It was not a common thing to be used in the District but every once in a while, someone would do it during funerals. It was a gesture of giving thanks, of admiration, of farewell to a loved one. The same gesture they had made at his father's funeral. Jacaerys feels a lump form in his throat. He can't help but look at you, this was thanks to you, if you hadn't reminded him that the District needed him like they needed his dad then maybe he would have continued in silence staring into nothingness, living mechanically instead of starting to help people like his dad used to do.

The mayor begins to read the Treaty of Treason. Once he finishes he instructs you and Jace to shake hands. Jacaerys notices that your hand is a little smaller than his and he feels warm against hiss. You catch him off guard when you squeeze his hand as if to encourage him. He returns the gesture even though he knows he shouldn't, it wasn't the time to become friends.

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[bruisedboys]

your Peeta fic was EVERYTHING!! So soft and lovely.

Could I request established Peeta x reader where maybe reader somehow gets a concussion and Peeta takes care of her? Obviously only if that sounds interesting to you.

I’ll read whatever you write for him 🫶🏼

thank you my love !! I was really proud of it so I’m very happy you enjoyed it. thank you for your request too! here’s a little something 4 u <3

peeta mellark x fem!reader vaguely in universe but no specifics, can be read as an au or just post-mockingjay

Peeta’s exceedingly gentle as he asses the damage to your head. One hand at your jaw tilting you up towards the light, the other pressed to the side of your head that you didn’t whack on the lip of the bathtub. He angles you this way and that, careful fingers pressing down around the spot you’d bumped.

He presses down on a particularly aching spot and you can’t bite back the whimper it entails. Peeta cringes.

“Sorry, I’m sorry, baby,” he hushes you softly. “That’s where it hurts the most, yeah?”

You nod. You feel a bit like you might cry. You’re embarrassed at your fall, dizzy and sore, too. “Yeah. S’there a bump?”

“Not a big one.” Peeta finishes his examining and moves down to sit with you on the bathroom floor. He presses a warm, soothing hand to your neck. “Are you still feeling dizzy?”

“A little bit.”

Peeta hums. When you’d first bumped your head you were so dizzy you couldn’t stand. Peeta had called Katniss’ mother on the phone in the living room and she’d diagnosed you with a mild concussion. Normally you’d be worried about it, but Peeta’s been so lovely and patient you’ve got no room for worry, just love. Plus, you’re pretty sure his hands have magic healing powers. You feel better already and it’s only been ten minutes.

“Okay,” he’s saying. “That’s okay, honey. How about I help you get up and we’ll move you to the bed?”

Bed sounds nice. You do your best to smile at your lovely, caring boyfriend. “Yeah, please.”

Peeta slides his hands under your armpits to help you up. You’re already in your pyjamas, which is just pure luck — you’d been getting ready for bed when the accident happened. Peeta had come running the moment he’d heard the thump as you slipped. He’s been worriedly doting on you ever since.

He sits you on the bed and lets you press your heavy head to his abdomen for a few moments. He holds you steady, one hand stroking the hair at the back of your head, steering clear of your bump. You breathe him in, his sweet, woody scent, the soft cotton of his t-shirt.

“Sweetheart,” Peeta pulls back, but rather than let you hold your head up on your own, he takes your face in his hands, holding you up himself. “I’m gonna get some ice for your bump, okay? Want to lie down?”

You nod around his warm hands. Peeta helps you lie down on two pillows and then straightens up.

“Do you need anything else, sweet girl?”

You know it’s pathetic, but you’re feeling miserable and needy. You tilt your chin up. “A kiss would be nice.”

Peeta grins. It’s pretty on him, especially when he’s been so worried for you he hasn’t properly smiled since your fall. “One kiss, coming right up.”

He kisses you sweetly, his mouth pressed to yours in a kiss that almost crosses the border of chaste but not quite. You hope he’ll give you more later. If you ask for them, he definitely will. He’s not one to deny you anything you want.

“Thanks,” you say as he pulls away. “For the kiss and for everything else.”

Peeta smiles at you and you know you’re in good hands. The best hands. “You’re welcome, lovely.” He moves away and you miss him already. He must know, because he adds, “I’ll be back really soon, don’t go anywhere, okay?”

You weren’t planning on it.

-

thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if u enjoyed 🤍

[notsocooljess]

was just thinking about peeta being the coach for he and katniss’s daughter’s youth soccer team. all of her friends have only ever seen her dad as the happy-go-lucky man with the joyful laugh who bakes the best cookies for their class activities. but his daughter knows how competition makes him.

her friends are all dumbfounded when coach!Peeta comes out, and he’s hammering them with different drills and training. making twelve-year-olds run elaborate drills. making them complete sprints after each loss.

one night, their daughter crawls into her parents’ bed when her mother is in there alone relaxing and begs her to talk to him to take it easy, and katniss just laughs and says, “oh, honey, it sounds like he’s going easy on you. you wouldn’t believe what he did to me”

[highly-flammable]

While Peeta’s declaration of love for Katniss on national television was certainly in order to gain attention for both himself and Katniss, the deeper meaning to it is way more important.

Peeta, no matter how well he could play the audience, deep down resented the idea of the games. For him, the biggest slap in the face to the Capitol that he could give was to highlight the brutality of it on national television. This was very heavy-handed in his interview in CF, but it is equally a driving force in THG.

In CF, he put the focus on a family being broken up and destroyed, because he claimed he and Katniss were married with a baby she was carrying. But Peeta putting the spotlight on loss is a common element in his first interview as well.

Since he was distant with his family and had already been callously alluded to as good as dead by his mother, he was not going to point out how his family will be losing their youngest son. If you look at Katniss’ first interview, her role as the elder sister who needed to get back to her little sister was the emotional hook. Peeta could not have used his family in order to drive a similar sense of tragedy. Even if he could by lying, I don’t believe he could have brought himself to do that.

Then how does a boy who doesn’t think his family needs him, a boy who is certain he is going to die, make a statement to the Capitol? How does he contribute to the sense of tragedy? By sharing his longing for the one connection he wishes he had. While he didn’t force Katniss to respond to his declaration, what he did do through his interview and subsequent actions (teaming up with the careers to mislead them, staying up all night to watch over her when they have her trapped in the tree, getting her to run after the tracker jacker attack), was making it clear that when he dies, Katniss will lose out on someone that really really loves her. That is the tragedy, that even if she lives, she lost out. He, with all his love and all his best intentions would have made her happy, could have been happy with her, if not for the Capitol.

Knowing Peeta’s character, I am going to say that he even felt like he could make that declaration because he didn’t believe there were any way he could have survived the games. Both of them being alive at the end was obviously an unimaginable scenario so there was no circumstance in his mind where he believed Katniss would be forced to reciprocate.

People have this uncharitable assumption that Peeta did this to get Katniss to be with him, but the truth is precisely the opposite. The two of them being together only became a possibility after the rule change and Katniss coming to find him, and even then, Peeta was pointing out that while they might play the audience, they themselves know it’s an act. The reason he got confused and believed it was genuine later on was because Katniss risked her own life to save his and because on some level it was genuine and he could feel it.

[triassictriserratops]

I think if peeta even got a sniffle Katniss would go fucking feral, drop everything and take care of him (and get sick herself)

ABSOLUTELY SHE WOULD.

She'd call her mom like, "he's dying, what do I do?"

Peeta's in the background like, "Hi Mrs. Everdeen, I just have seasonal allergies, I took some Zyrtec, everything is fine!

"YOU'RE DYING, SHUT UP AND GO TO BED BEFORE I KILL YOU."

BUT NOW

Now, Anon? Now i get to talk about what I think happens when KATNISS gets sick. And spoiler alert, it's GREAT.

The first time Katniss gets sick after the war, she doesn't tell anyone. She just locks herself in her house, puts a note on the door saying that she's fine and to come back tomorrow hoping that Sae sees it and doesn't bother with cooking anything for her. She grabs some remedies, a box of plain crackers, a blanket, some water, and trudges her way upstairs back to bed.

A few hours later she hears a loud crash in the kitchen. She waddles and sniffles her way downstairs to the sight of a cursing Peeta, sprawled on the kitchen floor, while his prosthetic is dangling from the open window above the sink.

"What are you doing?" she says in a congested voice, "I left a note on the door." She moves over to the window to unlatch his prosthesis from where it got snagged on the windowsill.

"This," he says, brandishing the crumpled paper in the air, "is NOT enough of an explanation. People were worried. Haymitch was worried..." He glances away at that.

"Haymitch? Bullshit." she snorts as she bends down to reattach his leg. She stays down when she's done, realizing that she's feeling a little unsteady on her feet.

"Fine. FINE! I was worried. What's going on? Did I do something wrong?"

"No! Of course not. It-it's fine. I'm fine. I'm just sick. Thanks for stopping by. I'll see you tomorr-." She's struggling to get back up when she feels the air whoosh around her and realizes that Peeta has picked her up to carry her over to the couch.

"Sick? What's wrong? Have you taken anything? Let me make you some tea, or do you want soup? I can make soup." he's rambling as he presses the back of his hand to her clammy forehead.

"I really am okay. I got this. I'll be fine, Peeta." she says, pushing his hand away from her face and regretting it immediately at the loss of contact.

"Katniss. Please let me do this, okay? This is what you and I do, right? That's what you said. Now, tell me where you keep your bouillon. I'm making some chicken stock and a good soup for you."

That's when it hits Katniss. She hasn't really been taken care of like this in years. Maybe since she was 11.

For years now, her mother would do her best to take care of her during the occassional cold, of course. But for the most part Katniss struggled to accept any softness or warmth from her mother. Feeling caught between that desire to be held and comforted and the anger she still felt towards her - they instead both settled for the distant, clinical detachment her mother had with her other patients.

But, really, the last nearly 7 years of her life have been dedicated to the care of her family and her loved ones. She learned to stop asking for things and began instead to meet all of her own needs, without relying on others.

After the games she'd begun the process of extending that branch and allowing herself to lean on her mother a little more. But now? Now her mother isn't here. And here she was right back to what she knew. Taking care of herself.

Looking up at Peeta, blue eyes shining in earnest. Ready to do and be anything that is needed of him. Anything that SHE needs of him. She wipes her nose on her sleeve and smiles.

"Pantry. Top shelf. On the right. Thank you, Peeta."

[lost-in-beacon-hills]

My favorite thing about Katniss is her failures.

She's written to be a catalyst of an entire war, and yet on every level, she fails. She loses all the things she considered to be important. She lost Prim to Coin, someone she let use her to spark the war. She lost Gale, her friend and hunting partner to the very same war that ripped their friendship to shreds. She lost Peeta, the original Peeta, the one that had never harbored a dark thought about her. She lost her mother again after Prim died. It became too much for either of them. Hell you could make an argument for her losing her home, her friends, any and every relationship that she has cultivated over her life span. She lost it all.

At no point was she "overpowered" in the traditional main character sense.

But my personal favorite failure is one that you wouldn't expect. It's the moment she's in her first private session with the gamemakers. She gets her hands on the bow. Up to this point, she has been fully proficient and hasn't missed. BUT she does miss. And for a really good reason. She has never used an actual weapon before. Her father's bow is lightweight and less pressure. She wouldn't have the experience to shoot perfectly even if the reader expects it. So she shoots and misses a few times. But by the time she's gotten it, they've stopped watching. She gets mad and shoots at the pig they are eating, and it results in her 'eleven' score. Had she just shot like normal, she probably would have gotten a 10.

She doesn't get the elusive 'twelve' rating. She achieves an eleven. Even at her best, she doesn't max out the score. And she only gets that through pissing off the gamemakers enough to want her dead. She scored the highest of any tribute, and it's all due to multiple failures. It's a much more impactful moment than it would have been if she had shot perfectly.

We get to fear for her. To wince and panic as she misses. It's a beautiful way to show that even our main character fails.

[trampled-and-melting]

the tragedy of katniss everdeen is that every adult in the series who is meant to protect her betrays that responsibility in some way.

your mother loves you, but not enough to help you.

cinna loves you, but not enough to protect you.

haymitch loves you, but not enough to save you.

and maybe it's for the best, right? maybe that's the price we have to pay to save people. so, so many people. if any of those three had stepped in to help her at any point, then maybe things wouldn't have happened the way they did. maybe the world would've been worse for it.

but still, there's the traumatized teenager surrounded by adults, who are not bad people. they are variously kind, and caring, and loving, and they believe in good things and they want those things to come to fruition.

and they all love her, but not enough to save her.