#and why he started calling katniss sweetheart

[sillyengineerperson]

another day, another hunger games book that's made me cry my eyes out

[phoenixmartinez-ride]

Ok but can we talk about the fact that we now have a very specific reason for WHY Haymitch called Katniss ‘sweetheart’ and it was never something that he intended to be condescending or mean?

Like that’s what he called Louella, who he loved like a sister and was killed before she even made it to the arena. And when Katniss started coming to the Hob after Burdock died in the mines, she wore her hair in two braids and it reminded Haymitch of Louella, who wore her hair in two braids. And then when she volunteered, the old nickname slipped out.

Like this book is so fucking good

[ervotica]

“C'mere, sweetheart-“ & “Breathe, just breathe-" with finnick please 🤍

a life of our own

pairing: finnick odair x reader

summary: finnick helps you find yourself again when you’re rescued from the capitol. you’re desperate to trust him again.

warnings: hurt/comfort, a lil fluff, a lil angst, r was tortured and brainwashed in the capitol after catching fire (i got sooo carried away with this but i luv it! hope you enjoy, please remember to like/comment + reblog!)

hunger games masterlist

Your chest is red-hot with anguish; it’s all you feel lately. Confined to this white room, locked in, spending all your time waiting for something that won’t come.

Nothing is real anymore. Your life is a thick fog that you can’t decipher, can’t tell which bits of it are real and which were planted by the Capitol. They made you a weapon against the revolution, against Katniss and Coin and Finnick.

You know him, that much is evident in your unconscious reactions. The way your chest tightens and squeezes when he walks into a room, how your breath catches and you hunger after his touch despite not knowing exactly why. But you know that he’s familiar and that - at one point or another - you loved him.

He visits routinely like clockwork, every day at around the same time. And each time you don’t push him away, don’t flinch at his touch like you do the others, his confidence grows.

Your doctor has been practicing memory games with you, which parts do your life are real and which are fabricated. You repeat them in your head over and over and sometimes they slip out when you’re talking, too. You’ve been incorporating opinions on top of the basic facts you know, and you’ve been including what you know about him.

You rock on the bed with your knees to your chest, feet tucked underneath you as you recite everything you can remember about him. You mutter it under your breath, tongue clicking as you whisper.

The door creaks and you stop dead mid-sentence. Finnick slips in without a word, pulling a chair up to sit by you. He doesn’t miss the way you eye him warily, watching every movement, every tick of his jaw and twitch of his muscles. You’ve always been perceptive- it’s one of his earliest memories of you. How you watch people.

He sits and watches you in return; you trace every inch of his body with your eyes, the bruises on his arms, the points of his shoulders, the slope of his nose and chin, the curve of his jaw.

“Finnick,” you say. He smiles; his fingers rest on the edge of the bed.

“That’s right.”

You reach out to touch him; he stays dead still as instructed by your doctors, but lets you lift his hand to place it in your own much smaller one. You turn so you’re sitting cross legged facing him, holding his hand in your lap. His heart could burst with the way you’re looking at him, a cocktail of fear and longing in your eyes. Something else lies deeper than that, like you’re being pulled through the rubble of your own mind and to the surface. Something a lot like love.

“Can I ask you something?” Your voice is small, more timid than he’s ever heard from you.

“Anything.”

“You love me. Real or not real?”

“Real,” he murmurs.

“I think I love you, too. I know I did before. I just don’t know which parts of my brain are real.” You fiddle with his fingers, the pad of your thumb rubbing over his knuckles methodically. If this is the only way you’ll ever touch him again, he’ll take it. He’ll take every scrap, every morsel of affection he can eke out of you. Whatever you’re comfortable with.

“We can figure that out together.” He’s soft as he speaks to you and it’s a voice that you remember. A very distinct one in your memory.

“Finnick,” you say again. He nods and shifts closer.

“Sometimes you call me Finn,” he starts, pressing lips to your knuckles. “Or honey. Or idiot if you’re mad at me.”

You smile and he catches a glimpse of you in there, engulfed by everything you’ve seen, everything you’ve been told. But he knows he can pull you out.

“I don’t think I’d ever be mad at you,” you mumble. He purses his lips thoughtfully.

“Well, sometimes I am an idiot. And I know you tell me that because you want to keep me safe.”

You’re in agreement there, not knowing everything but knowing undeniably that you would do anything to protect Finnick.

You shuffle over in the bed and tug at his arm. He tilts his head curiously, knowing what you’re asking but not wanting to be presumptuous.

“You want me to come sit up there with you, sweetheart?”

“Yes please.”

“Okay.” He settles himself next to you, legs outstretched where yours are tucked up tightly to your body. “If it gets too much, you tell me and I’ll go, okay?”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“Then I won’t.”

You shuffle round and swing your legs over his own so you’re almost completely in his lap; his arm comes up and over your shoulders automatically, like muscle memory. This is how you are in your clearest memories- together, a tightly knit partnership. He’s holding his breath, waiting for you to realise what you’re doing and lose composure, but that moment doesn’t come. You just sit and close your eyes, ear to his chest, listening to his heart beat.

“I’m tired,” you croak.

“You want me to leave you to sleep?”

“No.” Your voice is thick and uneven where you’re full of all these new emotions that you can’t quite place. “Will you stay?”

“I’ll stay as long as you want.”

He pulls the thin blanket over your body and smiles as you needle in close to him, face in the juncture of his neck. Hiding with him instead of from him.

“C’mere, sweetheart.” You relax at the pet name, your body going lax against his own as you start to fall asleep.

You can’t be asleep for more than 30 minutes before you start to stir. You’re muttering in your sleep as you start to twitch and reach out for something.

Your brow knits and it forms a crease in the middle of your forehead as you start to cry.

“Honey, c’mon,” Finnick murmurs, his hand pressed to your neck in an effort to rouse you. “It’s just a dream.”

His chest aches; he can’t bear seeing you in this state, knowing there’s not much he can do to make it better. Thinking it’s his fault for not getting to you in time.

You scream and wake with a start, wide-eyed and frantic. Your eyes flit around the clinical looking room as you try to gauge your surroundings and reorient yourself.

“Honey, it’s okay. It was just a dream, you’re safe.”

You scramble back and push him away, curling yourself up into a ball at the foot of the bed. Tears paint your cheeks and they shine in the harsh white lights, hiccuping sobs. He crouches a metre or so away, palms up, arms outstretched in hopes you’ll make contact again.

“Breathe, just breathe,” he says. “You’re okay. I’m here, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

You’re like a wild animal the way you look at him- panic-stricken and agitated, frenetic in the way you move.

“Honey, it’s me. It’s Finn.”

You swallow thickly and nod, your body slowly starting to unfurl.

“Finn,” you sniffle, holding out your arms. “Finnick.”

He creeps closer still and you practically throw yourself into his arms, face against the hollow of his throat, arms locked around his middle like a vice.

“I have you. I’m right here,” he says, over and over like a mantra. A promise.

“I don’t wanna live like this anymore.”

“You’re not going to,” he whispers. “I’ll be here until you feel well enough and then we can start planning our life. Together.”

“Okay.”

Your fingers card through the short hairs at the nape of his neck, wet eyes meeting his.

“I love you. I know it now, I can remember that.”

“I love you too,” he says, craning his neck to meet your eyes. “You’re my girl.”

You’re hesitant as you tilt your head up to press a kiss to his lips but he welcomes it, his thumb and forefinger holding your chin in place as he pecks you a few more times.

“We’re gonna have a life of our own, I promise.”

“A life of our own.”

[nebulablakemurphy]

Hi, Haymitch

Summary: the family is all together and ready to teach Haymitch a new game. Short, fluffy and spoiler free, set post epilogue, Moves & Countermoves universe.

“We should play another game.”

“No more board games.”

“I know a game,” Everest says. “Everybody up, off the couch.”

There is a collective groan as the adults rise to their feet. The children are much more lively, humming with excitement.

“We used to play with our teachers at university, it’ll be fun.” Everest insists.

“Ok.”

“So, Dad, all you do is sit in the chair, but you can’t look at us.”

“Why am I getting put on the spot?” Haymitch plops down in the dining chair, facing away from his family.

“Because you’re the most fun.” Everest pats his shoulder. “Now close your eyes and one by one we’re going to say ‘hi, Haymitch,’ and you have to guess who it is.”

“Why are you calling me Haymitch?” What happened to dad? Grandpa? Uncle Haymitch?

“So we don’t give away who it is,” Arista explains.

“That’s Arista.” Haymitch says.

“We didn’t start yet!”

Pollux excuses himself, back to the sofa.

“That’s Madge.” He announces, anyway.

“Alright, get in line. We’re starting.”

“Katniss.”

“Doesn’t count, Haymitch!”

Haymitch chuckles, “who’s first?”

There is a moment of hushed whispers as they assemble. A pair of little feet shuffle up behind him.

“Hi, Haymitch.”

One of Madge’s twins…

“This is cheating,” Haymitch laughs.

“It’s not cheating, Uncle Haymitch. This is how you play the game.” The same voice tells him.

“Pippa.” He knows for certain.

“You gave it away!” A second voice groans.

And that’s, “Polly.”

The girl, with Madge’s pout and Pollux’s strawberry tinted locks, throws herself onto the couch beside her father. Signing her distaste to him.

“I know what you’re saying!” Pippa swats at her.

‘It’s just a game.’ Pollux reminds them. A daughter on either side. He looks to Madge.

She keeps the line moving, “hi, Haymitch.”

“Madge?” Haymitch ticks a finger against his lips. “Maybe not, sounded a little too happy to see me. One more time?”

“Hi, Haymitch.” She’s not as enthusiastic the second time.

“It was Madge.”

They don’t tell him whether he’s right or wrong.

“Hi, Haymitch.”

Baby girl. “Arista.”

“Hi, Gr-Haymitch!” The child corrects themself.

“Rye.” Haymitch grins. Katniss and Peeta’s son.

Still, no one tells him if he’s correct.

“Hi, Haymitch.” A giggle follows.

That’s my, “Daisy May.”

She skips off happily.

“Hi, Haymitch.”

Little sweetheart. “Willow.”

“Hi, Haymitch.”

This is getting harder. “Uh…Everest or Peeta?”

A round of laughter.

“Try again,” Y/N insists.

Any hope he has of decoding who she’s speaking to by the tone of her own voice is squashed. Could go either way.

“Hi, Haymitch.”

Haymitch lifts a shoulder, “probably, Peeta. If that is you, Everest, I love you, son. Forgive me.”

Everest smiles as he exits the line, proud that he’s finally been able to stump him.

“Hi, Haymitch.” A new voice drawls.

“Katniss.” Sweetheart.

“Hi, Haymitch.”

“Peeta again, or Everest the first time.”

“No switching answers.” Polly scolds.

Haymitch laughs, shaking his head. “Peeta.”

“Hi, Haymitch.”

That voice, her voice. He would know it anywhere. “Y/N.”

“Hi, Haymitch.”

There is only one person it could be. “Hi, August.”

“I almost called you dad,” the little boy whispers.

“Good.” I love being your dad.

“Ok, now Grandma sit in the chair.” Rye says, staring up at Y/N like she placed every star in the sky by hand.

“No, she’ll be too good.” Willow argues, “we need Pollux to do it.”

‘I know who’s who.’ Pollux assures her.

“Prove it.”

[incomingalbatross]

I like the "sweetheart" backstory. It DOES change it, from being (what looks like) a sarcastic, scornful epithet developing into a genuine endearment, to being a genuine endearment more-or-less tainted by bitterness throughout the trilogy. BUT. I don't mind that change.

Haymitch's use of it in SotR is so tender and affectionate and sounds so absolutely natural in his mouth that it's a shocking contrast between what he was as a teen and what he is by the time of the 74th Games.

Teen Haymitch is soft around kids and loved ones without any effort. Adult Haymitch's sentiments come out sharp-edged and broken and angry 90% of the time, even toward those he loves most.

It is also ENTIRELY IN KEEPING with the first use of it in THG and just adds another layer of typical cross-purposes between Haymitch and Katniss. Because the first use of it comes after Katniss shoots the apple out of the roast pig's mouth, then comes back and locks herself in her room and cries for an hour because she's Ruined Everything.

At dinner a few hours later, we get this:

The adults begin some chitchat about the weather forecast, and I let my eyes meet Peeta’s. He raises his eyebrows. A question. What happened? I just give my head a small shake. Then, as they’re serving the main course, I hear Haymitch say, “Okay, enough small talk, just how bad were you today?” Peeta jumps in. “I don’t know that it mattered. By the time I showed up, no one even bothered to look at me. They were singing some kind of drinking song, I think. So, I threw around some heavy objects until they told me I could go.” That makes me feel a bit better. It’s not like Peeta attacked the Gamemakers, but at least he was provoked, too. “And you, sweetheart?” says Haymitch. Somehow Haymitch calling me sweetheart ticks me off enough that I’m at least able to speak. “I shot an arrow at the Gamemakers.”

Katniss clearly takes it as condescending and insincere, and so do we - but the SotR intrepretation WORKS here. And makes it much funnier.

Haymitch, looking at Katniss's tear-blotched face and trying to figure out what went wrong: "And you, sweetheart?" WAIT why did I call her that no I'm not supposed to CARE about them abort abort abort Katniss "surely Peeta is trying to sabotage me when he's being nice and says he loves me" Everdeen, reacting characteristically: How DARE he patronize me like that

And the other thing I like is that it adds a layer to the Haymitch-Katniss relationship. We all know the parallels, we all know they both see themselves in each other and hate it... BUT this means that he also saw Louella in her. He doesn't just see her as a younger mirror of him, he sees a smart, spunky little girl he tried to protect and couldn't. A girl who deserved to be safe from the Games. And I just... it makes me happy that Haymitch was seeing her from the start as a child he wanted to protect, along with a kindred spirit.

ALSO, finally, I think if/when Katniss learned this was an inherited endearment she'd have very messy feelings about that. Which is fun.

[lias-writings]

haymitch abernathy x pregnant!reader

warnings: pregnancy (obvi), mentions of alcoholism, mentions of smut, MDNI !!

a/n: just a tiny little thought before falling asleep haha

thinking about haymitch abernathy who put a baby inside you and now has to suffer with the consequences <3

like apart from freaking out once you told him, he’s super excited to be a dad even if his first reaction maybe was not so good, he can’t wait!

he’s teased about being a parent figure to katniss and peeta and he does feel that kinda parental responsibility for both of them but this is different, he’s actually part of the process this time!

he did got a black out drunk the day you told him, yes, but he also promised, he’d from now start to try limit himself on the liquor a bit by bit.

after he’s done being sassy and stressy about it, he actually comes to a realisation you’re carrying a child inside you now so he tries to be as helpful as he can, even if most times, he just makes it harder for you. the care is appreciated tho<3 (not by you tho, you scream at him)

“haymitch!” he hears that and he’s running. surprisingly not away but to you, see if you need anything, if everything’s okay.

“if it’s a girl, we should call her whiskey, if boy, then bourbon.”

there was a long silence following that sentence before you gave him a monolog why this is a worse idea than setting snow’s backyard on fire.

“sweetheart you should relax.”

“haymitch, i am not ill, just pregnant.”

“i know baby girl, you say that everyday, but i want you to be safe.” and then he’d kiss your forehead.

after few weeks you’d actually start to get used to his overboard care and just go on with it, meaning ninety percent of house chores was left to haymitch and the only thing you were allowed to do, was to read. (such a sweetheart)

when you start showing and you get all swollen and shi, he’s like so into it, he’s never having his hands off you. it’s so hot and attractive and beautiful to him he doesn’t know what to do with himself. he just stares at you and feels like he finally won something <3

when you two would be having sex, he was so close to finishing in like two seconds, he had to physically stop himself from that. it was hilarious really.

he’ll also offer to give you head whenever you would feel slightly anxious or unwell. he’d be so excited to do it, just standing in front of you and begging for you to let him eat you out.

(this is literally how he looks at you)

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery, @iobsessoverfictionalmen

warnings: swearing, menstruation, mention of the Capitol

I trudged into the house from across the street. Haymitch was surprisingly already up, glancing at me from his place at the table.

"You look like shit sweetheart." He mumbled, glancing away as I walked over to his stove. I flipped him off as I started making breakfast.

"Just means another month of the Capitol not getting what they want." I sighed. Haymitch fiddled with something on the table before getting up and wrapping his arms around my waist. He pressed a kiss to my neck before burying his head there. “You alright?” I asked, letting my free hand tangle in his hair.

“I’m alright.” He breathed out. “Just hate seeing you in pain. But that’s not new.” I nodded as I leaned back against him. Haymitch swayed while I hummed. I could feel his lips curl into a smile as we moved. “How’s Katniss?” I sighed as he hugged me tighter.

“still with the nightmares. Still trying to admit she doesn’t need peeta.” I murmured. “They’ll come to their senses soon enough.” Haymitch rubbed my abdomen gently, pushing where needed as the warmth from his hand soaked into my skin. I hummed as he pressed another lazy kiss to my shoulder. “God that feels good.” Haymitch chuckled as I served up our plates. He broke away just long enough for me to put them on the table before drawing me into his lap. “Haymitch!” I laughed as his hand returned to its spot just below my waistband.

“gross.” Katniss muttered as she walked in the door. “Can’t you two at least wait until breakfast is over?”

“Well if you didn’t walk around here like you owned the damn place we wouldn’t have this problem now would we?” Haymitch teased as he propped his chin on my shoulder. Katniss glared at him while he blew her a kiss, making me giggle at the action. “You know the sooner you realize you have your own place the better this arrangement is going to work out.”

“prim has overrun the kitchen with her animals.” Katniss sighed as she sat down with her plate. “And peeta has taken my oven for his baking.”

“I thought he was painting now.” I said offhandedly, watching her reaction. Katniss pushed her food around.

“depends on how bad the nightmares are.” She shrugged. I nodded. Haymitchs hold on me tightened.

“this one’s get worse when they start bleeding.” Haymitch said, eyeing me as he ate. “You can’t stay here tonight. Go be with primrose and your mom. Hell peeta might even enjoy your company.” Katniss eyed me as I smiled softly at her.

“he’s not wrong. Been around me long enough to know.” I shrugged. Katniss nodded and took her empty plate to the sink.

“good to know. I’ll steer clear. Give the others the warning.” She nodded before heading out.

“be careful!” I called after her. She raised a hand in acknowledgement before disappearing towards the fence line. “Why did you have to tell her that?” I smacked haymitch in the chest as he chuckled. I got off his lap and went to do our dishes.

“because I want to be alone with my partner in our bed tonight.” Haymitch teased. “And…” he paused long enough for me to turn around. “Hattie gave me this. Greasy sae confirmed what it was.” He looked from the bottle to me. “If you want all this to stop. End it here and now. I’ll understand.” Haymitch looked at me with sad eyes.

“poison?” I asked. Haymitch shook his head violently.

“fuck no.” He growled. “Something to end the cycle of pain.” I blinked at him while looking down at myself. “But it’ll mean…” haymitch took a deep breath. “They won’t win. Break the board. From within.” I paused a moment to think.

“we’ve both lost so much.” I murmured. Haymitch nodded. “This wouldn’t be much more. Protect ourselves from the inevitable. From the pain.” I looked back at the bottle. “But no. One day, when we’re good and ready. Not when the capitol decides. Not when snow decides. When we finally break the board.” I promised. Haymitch nodded, eyes teary as he kissed me.

“I understand.” He whispered against my lips. “For now, this joins the rest of what greasy sae gives us. And no one knows any better.” I nodded.

“tell them thank you though.” I whispered as I stroked his cheek. Haymitch nodded before kissing me again.

“We’re going to get through this. One day.” He breathed out. I nodded.

“one day.” I whispered back. “I love you.”

“I love you like all fire.”

[malereaderworld]

Breathe 📍

Finnick Odair x male reader x Peeta Mellark

Warnings: slight violence, grief and slight mentions of trauma.

As i opens my eyes. I’m somewhere white and spartan. Lying on a wall-mounted cot. I try to move my head painfully, when i notice my head and arm are bandaged.

“Peeta? Finnick?” I call out, sitting up. Looking around me I can see Beetee is hooked up next to me.

I get out of the bed, grabbing a syringe. I walk through a door and into the corridor. Holding the syringe like it’s a murder weapon.

Walking in to the corridor I look around me, I see a half open door. As I creep to an open door I hear voices, which I don’t recognise.

“We’ve got to try.” I let out a small sigh of relief, recognising Finnick’s voice. “It's too late. We'd all be killed.” That’s Haymitch.

“We have to. I promised Y/n I would protect him with my life, he’s been out for the past 2 days…” He pleaded with Haymitch.

“No, I’m so sorry but we can’t. Not yet, it’s too risky.” Plutarch replied, with a somber tone.

“Is there nothing we can do, for y/n? He’s the reason you even had a chance to enter the arena. This plan couldn’t have worked if he hadn’t shot that arrow…” Katniss argued back…

Frustrated, I shove open de door. I’m met with Haymitch, Finnick, Plutarch and Katniss look at some sort of map. They all look at me, met with smiles.

“Morning sunshine.” Haymitch says.

Still woozy I try to swing the syringe at him. He catches my wrists, twisting until I drop the syringe.

“So, you and a syringe against the Capitol? See, this is why no one lets you make the plans.”

I try to push with my wrist in the air, my eyes watering. “Calm down, have a seat.” He settles me in a chair. I look over at Finnick, Plutarch and Katniss. Plutarch claps.

“Well done, very good job. Though a bit messy at the end but we got you out.” He nods to the rest, they smile. Betrayed I look over at Haymitch.

“We couldn’t tell you, it was just too risky. Not with Snow watching you, it was better for you not to know anything.” He shakes his head guilty, looking down.

I look over at Finnick and Katniss. “So our alliance, saving Peeta…”

“Only to save you. So you wouldn't run off if he died. Half the tributes were in on it.” Katniss admits. “You were our mission from the start.” Finnick adds.

You still don’t get it, or don’t want to.

“You're the Mockingjay. While you Live, the revolution thrives. We need you in Thirteen now.” Plutarch speaks. Bewildered I turn back at Haymitch.

“District 13?” Only having heard of it in folklore. Never thinking the place actually existed. “Where’s Peeta?”

“Still had his tracker, Johanna cut yours out.” Haymitch looks down. “Where is Peeta?”

“He’s with johanna…” I stare at Haymitch, his eyes meet mine. “In the Capitol.”

“You son of a-” I fly at him, nails digging in his cheeks drawing blood. Finnick immediately grabs me, as Plutarch stabs me with the syringe. I fall to the ground in Finnick’s arm, my hands grabbing his cheek.

“Hey, it’s okay sweetheart. It’s okay, we’ll find our love. It’s okay.” A tear forming in his eye. Everything goes black.

[derangedchameleon]

Lemme rant about how Haymitch and Katniss‘ mothers shaped them for a second.

I will circle back to this bear with me.

One of the first things I did after reading sotr is start the original trilogy again. Something I noticed is that Katniss generally seems… a lot more likely to get angry than Haymitch is when he‘s her age.

Whenever Haymitch gets angry, it‘s warranted. Like Plutarch using his family like that or bringing out the cake for his birthday. Or just generally capitol abuse. Haymitch‘s rage is targeted. Aimed at the real enemy the whole way through. Even when he fights the careers, he‘s really fighting the capitol. Silka killed Wellie, but what was really the final nail in the coffin for her was the fact that she wanted to win to bring glory to the capitol. And Haymitch couldn‘t let that stand.

Katniss gets angry at the slightest provocation. Peeta waves at the crowd? He‘s fighting hard to kill her. Peeta is good at camoflage? She gets snappy. Haymitch and Peeta have a conversation without her? Haymitch is picking favorites. Haymitch calls her sweetheart (we now know that this was an accidental slip of the tongue and was probably an attempt to calm her down) after her stunt with the apple and she has been crying in her room for hours? He’s being condescending. Peeta declares his crush on her to Panem? He‘s trying to make her look weak. The instant Peeta shows any signs of teaming up with the careers she pretty much wishes a gory and long painful death upon him.

Why? She‘s in a permanent fight or flight mode. A state she hasn‘t left since that fateful mine explosion and her mother‘s retreat, a state that has now been kicked into overdrive with the Hunger Games.

When Haymitch‘s father died, he could rely on his mother. Things went bad and she stayed. Things went bad and she was there.

Katniss‘ father died and her mother retreated. This is not to shame Katniss‘ mother, but we can acknowledge Asterid‘s mental illness while still recognising how damaging this was to her children.

Haymitch learned that he could trust and rely on those that are meant to be on his side. Katniss learned that if she does this, she and her whole family will die.

Haymitch isn‘t constantly looking over his shoulder for the betrayal of an ally. So he can focus his attention on the real enemy.

The amount of times Katniss almost murders Finnick for fear of betrayal in the 75th is… a lot.

Compared to Haymitch, Katniss was the perfect tribute. A terrified prey animal trapped in a cage, ready to lash out at anything vaguely threatening. Even if the other person is just trying to help. (The exception to this was Rue, but Rue triggered the big sis instincts)

Of course their games were different since Haymitch wasn‘t really trying to win. Ever. He had a family that would probably be okay without him, since he wasn‘t the main breadwinner. But technically, Katniss‘ family could have been okay too. Her mom had the apothecary business. But there was still always the risk of Asterid shutting down again and leaving Prim. Once again, Katniss cannot trust her to be reliable.

TLDR:

Katniss mother was unreliable -> Katniss expects betrayal from allies and can‘t focus on the real enemy

Haymitch‘s mother was reliable -> Haymitch trusts in his allies and can focus his attention on the real enemy

[media-thots]

Sunrise on the Reaping. Major spoilers.

I loved it. What an interesting dive into how the truth is manipulated for public perception. It’s something she’s explored in every book but this time, Collins demonstrates how much the Capitol has manipulated the narrative in the past. Efforts to start a revolution have happened before, with Haymitch, but almost all of Panem doesn’t know that because of editing. The revolution won’t be televised.

The fact that Katniss became the face of the revolution is demonstrated to be mostly luck. Yes, she’s rebellious at heart and has the burning fury that inspires the districts so she is the right person. But she’s incredibly lucky that she’s the right person at the right time. Haymitch was the right person at the wrong time. And like Collins says in her interview at the back of the book, Katniss had the benefit of people who played the long game for decades pushing her forward. Haymitch was part of a group just learning how to play that game. And I’m so glad he was able to remain a player, become Katniss’ mentor and keep his promise to Lenore Dove.

I enjoyed getting to see so many familiar faces because that reinforces how long it takes to make significant change in the face of authoritarianism. Beetee has been a rebel most of his life but he’s faced such godawful tragedy. It’s admirable he stayed in the fight after Ambert, after his wife had another baby. He fights not just because Panem is oppressive, but for his children. To give his child the possibility of living in a world without reapings, even if it takes decades.

Seeing Wiress was unexpected and exciting. She’s so smart and her knowledge of what the games are like recently really helps Haymitch and Maysilee. We got to know more about her games and see how caring she is before the Capitol tortures her and leaves her permanently psychologically damaged. And how tragic, Wiress survives her games still a child, and only one year later the Capitol punishes her for mentoring Haymitch. I don’t think she’s even 18 yet.

And Mags. Oh, Mags. Her impact on the rebellion. She’s such a caring soul and that is exactly what helps give the rebellion life. In this book, she’s a mother figure to all the district 12 kids, sharing her experience and wisdom and giving these kids the respect that the Capitol would never give. In a way, she lets them grieve. Grieve the loss of Louella but also themselves. They will die and while we know Haymitch survives, he doesn’t at the time. She gives them the bean and ham hock soup and they grieve. Their lives will end and for Haymitch, it will never be the same. The rebellion fights for people like Mags, the rebellion maybe wouldn’t be ready in Katniss’ time if it weren’t for Mags.

The epilogue is hard hitting in many ways. Young Katniss reminded Haymitch of Louella and that’s why he calls her sweetheart. The ghost of Lenore ages with him in his stupors. But what struck me the hardest is this book is all about how the Capitol controlled the narrative of Haymitch’s games so tightly that no one from the younger generation of 12 knew the real story. Until after the revolution when Haymitch can finally tell the story himself because his people are safe. Over 25 years later, Haymitch can tell the honest truth.

In this social media age, under this administration, this book is necessary. Get the kids thinking, get them questioning. Don’t trust the Capitol blindly.

[underoospeterparker]

reader faints from a migraine / bad headache & finnick helps / comfort reader ⁉️ this actually did happen to me one time several years ago ... it was a very eventful day LMFAO

thank you for requesting!

finnick odair x gn!reader (set in mockingjay pt1)

"Finn," you tugged on his sleeve, voice small and quiet so as to not disturb his conversation with Katniss.

Nevertheless, he turned to you the second he heard you, Katniss having understood and you gave her a grateful smile as she started talking to Prim.

Your boyfriend's eyebrows were creased and he was frowning, and his lips pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead. "Yeah, (Y/N)?"

"My head hurts," you whimpered, "and I'm really dizzy."

Finnick immediately snapped into protective mode. "Okay," he said. "That's okay. Let's go sit down, alright?"

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and you made it just two steps before your vision went fuzzy, crackling and fizzing like the static on a television. Your breaths went shallow, and you collapsed; a rag doll in Finnick's arms.

"Sweetheart?" His voice was worried, urgent. He tapped your cheek, fingers gentle in their attempt to wake you up. "Shit," he said, calling to someone, anyone for help.

He picked you up in his arms, tightening his hold around you when you roused, just slightly, eyes blinking open. Finnick was quick to reassure you. "You're okay," he murmured, his face soft. "Just getting you to bed, baby."

You made a soft noise of content, and you shifted a little in his arms, his heart splitting clean in two when you pressed your head deeper into his chest.

When you reached, he lay you down, so gentle, on your bed, reaching for the cup of water on the bedside. "Open up," he said, his voice both stern and caring as he raised the water to your lips. You gulped it down gratefully, pink blush coating your cheeks when Finnick gave you murmurs of praise and affection as a reward.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked, a concerned tone seeping through his words.

You nodded as he pulled you back into his chest and his arms, hands moving to draw soothing circles on your back. "Yeah," you whispered. "Just really tired," you admitted.

"You must be," he agreed sympathetically. "Just rest for now, honey. We'll talk about why you fainted in the morning."

You groaned, an annoyed sound that contrasted with the laughter currently escaping your mouth.

"What?" he asked, all sincere and innocent. "You didn't think you were gonna get away with it, sweetheart, did you?" He hesitated. "You scared me to death."

You cooed sympathetically at him, and he gave you a genuine smile. "I promise it won't happen again."

[cryingatwindermerepeaks]

adi adi adi :33

hiii <33 been thinkin about little katniss and peeta and cg! haymitch.

do u have any thoughts? beyond what weve talked about :0

hi beebee !!! i’ve got a billion trillion thoughts !! but my brains all small and messy at the moment so they are all over the place and a little bit chaotic :D

- Katniss tends to regress to about 4-6,l and Peeta is a bit younger sticking closer to 1-4 especially after the hijacking

- Katniss and Peeta both start going to Haymitch about their regression around the same time (the start of the victory tour) though this is completely separate and they haven’t the slightest clue about the others regression

- Haymitch is so confused why these small babies keep coming to him of all people but it is a really good incentive not to drink because he doesn’t exactly like the idea of having to deal with a 3 year old Katniss crying because she can’t find her pacifier while also being drunk

- The first time Peeta regresses after the hijacking is terrifying. Obviously Katniss can’t be there but they figure Haymitch won’t be too triggering for him. But it’s awful. He cries the whole time and Haymitch just has to hold him and wonder where is smiley little boy went.

- Little Peeta is scared of Katniss a lot longer after the hijacking which is really hard for little Katniss who doesn’t really understand it but she likes to make him little drawings to look at when he’s feeling extra small and scared because Peeta finds them calming

- Little Peeta is very quiet whereas Katniss has absolutely no filter

- Peeta hates to wear his prosthetic so Johanna and Katniss put stickers on it to make him feel better

- I like to think that eventually Effie, Haymitch, Kat, Peeta and Jo move to district 4 to be with Finnick and Annie

- Little Katniss adores being at the beach in district 4 and it’s a nightmare to drag her out of the water.

- She spends so much time there that Haymitch and Peeta both end up learning how to swim pretty well

- As much as katniss hates being called sweetheart when she’s big she’s a sucker for it when she’s small because it makes her feel safe and only Haymitch ever calls her it

- Katniss is always wandering off while she’s little and Peeta is always the first to notice, he’ll see her going somewhere she’s not supposed to and just tug Haymitch’s sleeve and point

- She definitely needs one of those little backpack leashes (one with a monkey on it)

- Katniss isn’t good at admitting that she needs help while she’s little. She won’t hide that she’s regressed but she also won’t actively seek out Haymitch. They make a routine of her going to his room every night for a story and bottle before bed so he knows Katniss is at least getting some time to relax and Katniss knows that there is a special scheduled time which takes some of the pressure off

- Katniss loves to tell everyone all the little facts she knows about plants, she gets so proud everytime she can point something out

[agentplutonium]

take this very small Milo/Sweetheart scenario that I imagined, because i am unwell over it

Milo got home earlier than he was usually, calling out for Sweetheart once the door was closed. He got no answer, but he heard the TV going in the other room and figured they were too absorbed to pay attention to him. He smiled softly as he made his way through the house to him, petting Aggro in greeting on his way by. Sure enough, Sweetheart was curled up on the couch under a blanket, in the middle of a Hunger Games binge. He chuckled, leaning against the back of the couch to look at them. Immediately their core reacted to him being there, Milo feeling it practically reach out for him.

“What are you doing?” He asked quietly.

“Shh,” Sweetheart hushed him. “Katniss is about to blow up the arena.”

“Uhhuh. How long have you been sitting here, exactly?”

“Long enough to watch the first and second movie,” Sweetheart replied smartly.

“So you haven’t eaten in four hours.”

“I… snacked,” Sweetheart said distractedly.

“Uhhuh,” Milo said again. He leant forward, pressing his lips against their forehead before slipping off into the kitchen. Milo was aware that Sweetheart wouldn’t want to stop to eat a full meal, but he probably could throw together a meal-adjacent snack that they could munch on while finishing their binge.

“Milo!” Sweetheart called from the living room, “it’s the Haymitch scene, Milo!”

“Uhhuh,” Milo called with a chuckle, “that’s what happens at the end of that movie.”

Sweetheart shuffled into the kitchen, wrapped in a blanket, dejectedly. “Why do these movies do this to me,” they whined.

“This is a great question,” Milo teased.

“It’s not even like I’m watching it for the first time,” Sweetheart complained. They opened the fridge, digging around for their go to drink. “Are you going to finish the movies with me?” They asked, sidling up against him, resting their chin on his shoulder.

“I will if you promise me you’ll eat the food I’m giving you.” Milo said, turning towards them.

Seeetheart grinned up at him, pushing forward to kiss him. Milo didn’t let them get away, reaching over to hold their face in place. He’s gone too long without their lips on his, he wasn’t about to let them go just yet.

“Go sit down, I’ll be in in a sec,” Milo said finally, smiling.

Sweetheart smiled back, almost mischievously, before slipping away, hand trailing his waist until the last second. “You better hurry, I want to finish the last two tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get all in a twist,” Milo teased.

Sweetheart was curled up once again when Milo returned. They scooted out of the way as he rounded the corner, letting him take his usual spot so that they could bury them into his side. Milo grinned at the way that they clung to him, only to laugh at how they snatched at the food on the snack plate a second later.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Sweetheart mumbled, “I’m hungrier than I thought I was.”

“Just start the movie,” Milo said, kissing the top of their head again.

[deepdonutkid]

I discovered people in the fandom complaining about how unrealistic Haffie is. Well, yeah, I kinda agree with that. The canon book characters don't go that well together, but I can imagine two scenarios, where I could picture them together:

Fuckbuddies- duuuuuh, Haymitch is so unfitting for a relationship in almost every aspect, but he still has some game. Everytime he is in the Capitol for some business or Effie is in D12 they spend some time together, mainly because they are bored. But it would be interesting, to get some one sided jealosy in the mix.

And this is a bit of a far strech but hang in there...An AU where Effie tries to stay in D12 permanently after Katniss, Peeta and Haymitch come back home, because she feels like she isn't welcomed in the Capitol anymore. She was part of the Games, most of the escorts, beauty teams and stylists have been killed, and now she is one of the few people left. Effie notices strange looks from every corner and decides she can't take it anymore. So, she goes to the people who she thinks, actually liked her for herself. After her arrival, she knocks at Haymitch's door and asks him, if she could stay a while. A few days later, Haymitch asks her, when she will go back again, she declines and explains why. Haymitch says: "Well, it won't be easy making a life here" and Effie says: "Teach me then" and after that it's basically like a 2000 feel-good teen movie, where the rich posh girl is moved to the country side and at first she hates every second of it, but while the romance progresses, she admits to herself, she likes it in a way she never expected. And the main concept of this story would be comedy, sweet simple slice of life comedy with just a pinch of romance, because we don't wanna overdo it. Write at 2am for about three hours and we are good to go... E Voilá a mouth-watering Haffie story!

Just imagine Effie trying to help Haymitch with his geese, while Peeta and Katniss are watching from their kitchen window and decide: "Well, that's definitely not our problem."

Or there is no hot water yet and Effie demanding a bath after a long day of work. So Haymitch and her keep filling up his tub with warm water from the stove. Once it's done, Effie undresses herself and gets in the tub. She is finally relaxing and... Haymitch comes in, wearing just a towel and wants to join in, just to prank her.

"Well, sweetheart, what did you thought... I would put in all this work just for you?", he asked her, rubbing his stubbly chin with dirt-covered fingers. She- still wrapped in her arms for protection from his keen looks- retorted: "Actually... yes." But she couldn't interpret his reaction. Haymitch was shaking his head as the smile on his lips turned into a grin and then into a big laughter. "You expect me to", he started and had to pause right then, because he couldn't contain himself. "You expect me to bath in your cold water." His voice was much colder now, since he stopped laughing. It was almost unsettingly calm now. Effie didn't know where to look. She gulped just thinking about him standing there half naked. Usually, she liked being seen. That's why she joined the Games as an escort. In a family of six, with four sisters, she was rarely noticed. Overlooked, most of the time. And while she was there on stage in her meticulously composed outfits, she was adore and admired by the masses. But that didn't last. Now, every pair of eyes set on her, was one pair too much. Especially his. His grey eyes pierced her soul and shattered her like she was glass. She blinked and looked up to him. "I thought, you were being nice. I really tried my best today and I already had such a hard time setting in." "A lots of Is in there... I thought, I tried, I had. Don't you think you're being a bit self-centered here? Since you came to me and asked me for help, I assumed you changed. Guess I was wrong about that." He was already at the doorstep, when Effie called for him. "Wait, Haymitch... I'm sorry. Please come back, I'm sure we find a way to share this tub." With a grin he turned around, rolling his eyes. "For a second, I believed you left me hanging." The towel flew down from his hips. A whince left Effie's mouth. She didn't know where to look, but only realized she kept staring, when Haymitch scoffed: "My eyes are up here, darling."

[holidaywishes]

not all monsters do monstrous things...

Part 9: The Quell

Summary of Series: Delly Cartwright lost her best friend, Peeta, to the games. Now, the one that took him seems to have a soft spot for her.

  Summary of Chapter: The Ceremonies have officially started - the Parades, the Training, the Interviews, - leading Delly and Asher to finally feel how real it all is.

  Warning: Angst, some violence

  Author’s Note: As always, I’m crediting Ophelia Tate’s story, They Caught Fire, that I read years ago over on Fanfiction.net. Everything past the Reaping, is on me lol, and I’ve changed a pretty big detail in the original story. But hopefully I will do her original story/idea justice. I think this one is gonna be a bit longer because it’s going to be different parts of the Ceremonies plus the start of the Quell from Delly’s perspective. I’m excited to keep going, I was also listening to the audio book of Ballads of Songbirds and Snakes while I wrote this so I felt like I was back in 2012, much simpler times. I hope you enjoy this chapter! If there’s anything that you’d like in further chapters, feel free to send me an ask with your requests!

  masterlist

  masterlist part ii

  the other masterlist

xx

Delly’s P.O.V

  Today was the start of the Ceremonies, which meant that soon you’d be in the Arena and, after that, your life would be forever changed. Haymitch and Effie brought you both to the long hallway where the Tributes waited to begin the processional, the horse chariots waiting nearby. As you and Asher got ready for the parade, you looked around for Cato, knowing he was around somewhere, but you couldn’t find him anywhere, though it wouldn’t be like you could see him anyway as your team of stylists and mentors were invading your eye line. Cinna stood in front of you and Asher, adjusting the outfits he had made and gave you a rundown on the idea behind them, calling it an “ode to the old days” with a “hint of tribute to Katniss and Peeta.” 

  The outfits were coal black, much like Katniss and Peeta’s outfits, but there were hints of gold shimmering down the dress that you wore that matched the shimmering effect throughout Asher’s suit. To you, the gold felt like a nod to the Mockingjay pin that Madge had mentioned she gave to Katniss, but it all felt so dark and bleak - which you weren’t used to. The dress was beautiful though. It was a velvety soft floor length gown, with a sweetheart illusion neckline and an underlay with vibrant oranges and reds, overlaid with a mesh layer that appeared to have a sort of charring along the hem of the dress that moved effortlessly with the wind. 

  “Is there going to be some kind of flame or something that goes off?” Asher asked, the slight anxiousness on his voice bringing you back to them, Cinna smiled to himself

  “There might be something,” he confessed, “to pay homage to your friends. But I couldn’t bring the flames back entirely”

  “Why not?” Asher asked inquisitively as he examined his suit and you rolled your eyes at his childish opposition to Cinna’s admission

  “That was specific to Katniss,” he said, a look of unresolved grief on his face, “Peeta too, but Katniss was our Girl on Fire. The flames were for her.”

  “So,” you said slowly, the sweetness of your tone bringing him back to you. You smiled at him when he met your gaze, “do we get to know what happens?”

  “It might be more exciting if you don't,” he smirked and you smiled lightly. This seemed to tug at Cinna’s heartstrings just enough for him to pull you and Asher aside and show what the outfits would do. Below the hints of gold in Asher’s suit ran red and orange lights that pulsed, burning bright when his heart rate quickened and dimmed slightly when he was at ease. The underlay of your dress, the vibrant red and orange threads, mirroring the pulsing on Asher’s suit, but it seemed almost brighter to fight to be seen through the top layer of mesh. The elements were a subtle nod to Katniss and Peeta, you agreed, and you could see that Cinna was proud of what he’d accomplished. It felt like there was a message he was trying to convey, like the fire was still burning… 

  “The outfits are beautiful, Cinna” you said, giving him a hug just as Haymitch and Effie approached

  “Aren’t they marvellous!” Effie exclaimed, “Cinna, you never cease to amaze me.” Cinna smiled coyly, bowing slightly to show his gratitude, while you and Asher smiled together, allowing yourselves to take in a small positive moment before everything would inevitably come crashing down. 

  That's when you saw him; suddenly and just for a moment. You caught a glimpse of Cato with his team and fellow Victor, Enobaria, as they prepared their chariot for the Parade as well. His outfit was similar to last year but darker, as everything seemed to be this year. Instead of the sharp gold of his previous armoured outfit, both he and Enobaria wore a brassy gladiator inspired outfit, with a red cape on each of their outfits that you envision would flow behind them in the wind. Your eyes lingered for far too long and just as Cato caught your eyes, Haymitch pulled you away 

  “I swear,” he muttered, tracing your eye line to Cato before standing in front of you to block your view, a flush of red took over your face, “that boy always stares at our Tributes…” 

  “Oh hush,” Effie said, dismissing Haymitch, and you furrowed your brow once in confusion and embarrassment, “let’s get you two on the chariot.”

  “Listen to me, quickly,” he said, stopping you from going onto the chariot just yet, “don’t try to be Katniss and Peeta. Pay your respects but don’t try to emulate them, know your place.” His tone was firm and this felt like proper mentorship, for the first time since you’d arrived at the Captiol. “You can do well in these next few events if you stay focused. Leave Cato and whatever happened before in the past,” he said, taking you by surprise; you hadn’t thought about how much he had known until now, “he’s a Victor. You’re just a girl.”  You nodded shyly in agreement and stepped onto the chariot, grabbing Asher’s hand so you didn’t slip. The music started, signalling the District 1 chariot to proceed and all you could think to yourself was there’s no turning back now. You inhaled sharply as the horses pulled the chariot harshly, as if they were scared into trotting, holding Asher’s hand as you went on your way. 

  You looked back quickly at your team, Effie waving, a look of pride mixed with despair on her face, Haymitch watching determinedly as the chariots made their way to the Avenue of Tributes, hand just under his mouth almost nervously while Cinna looked solemn, possibly remembering having to say goodbye to Katniss. You’d see them all again shortly, to prepare for the interviews, but it was clear that every moment was critical. Every impression was make or break and that was nerve wracking. Neither you nor Asher were cut out for this but hopefully any potential Sponsors wouldn’t be displeased about that.

  “We’re gonna be okay,” Asher smiled just as the bright lights shone on each of the chariots, squeezing your hand gently, "should we show them?” he asked, referring to the lights on your outfits that could be activated by a small button that Cinna had given you and you nodded with a smirk. The crowd cheered as your chariot got closer to where President Snow sat and everyone finally saw the shimmer of the red, orange and gold lights on yours and Asher’s outfits.

xx

Asher’s P.O.V

  You tried to hold back your nerves as the chariot made its way down the long path, loud cheers from the Capitol audience. The Avenue lights dimming slightly when the District 12 chariot came out 

  “We’re gonna be okay,” you smiled nervously at Delly, squeezing her hand, more to ease your mind than hers, “should we show them?” you asked, and she nodded with a smirk that said let’s do it; the two of you pressing the small black button that Cinna gave each of you. The effect of your outfits were much more subdued than Katniss and Peeta’s, the lights throughout the outfits building from the bottom and creeping up your suit and Delly’s dress, small embers flickering behind you, the hem of Delly’s dress blowing in the wind and the embers flickering along with it.

  As the chariot approached President Snow’s perch, the outfits began to pulse in a natural rhythm as if they were echoing each other, embers continuing to glint behind you. The chariot stopped in front of Snow for just a moment and you noticed Delly’s lights dimming and becoming more steady. She was at ease. Well… maybe not at ease, but she was calm. You did your best to calm your breathing but couldn’t manage to get to her level but hopefully you didn’t appear too nervous; you worried that if you did, it could mean something terrible in the Arena. When the chariot began to move again, you smiled at Delly, proud that the crowd seemed to love the effect that Cinna had worked so hard to create. 

  “You both did so wonderfully!” Effie cooed while you and Delly stepped off the chariot, “those embers flickering off the outfits were like.. like.. like Katniss and Peeta were still here.” Her eyes turned sympathetic as Cinna approached you, “they’ll never be forgotten.” There was a small moment of silence between everyone before the other Tributes filled the space, stealing your attention and taking away any sense of calm. 

  “We should get going,” Haymitch said, ushering you and Delly back toward your apartment, “before we get bomba-”

  “District 12,” Gloss said tauntingly, interrupting your mentor as he and his sister, Cashmere, approached, “always burning…”

  “Gloss…” Haymitch said in return, trying to put himself between them and you, “why don’t you head back over there…”

  “Asher,” Delly said to grab your attention, Haymitch’s voice becoming faint to you as you focused on what your sister was saying. “We don’t need to wait for Haymitch,” she smirked, “I mean, we could if you wanted to, but do you really want to wait for him here?”

  “Don’t you want to see him?” you whispered, noticing her eyes growing wide and she quickly shook her head, leading you to furrow your brow; she knew who you were talking about, but you couldn’t understand the fear in her eyes - no one else knew… did they?

  “We have to go prepare for the interviews” she replied, louder than you thought she would, which you imagined was for everyone else’s sake. She grabbed your arm gently and led you into the elevator, “what are you doing?!” 

  “What?!” you whined, rubbing your arm and she rolled her eyes

  “I promised Haymitch we’d stay focused,” she said, clearly distressed that someone might realize her connection to Cato, “he- I- we have to focus on us. On surviving…” Just then, the door chimed, and you realized neither of you had actually pressed anything to bring you to your floor, and Haymitch was there as the door opened, glaring at the two of you without saying anything and you furrowed your brow, until you realized who was behind him

  “H-hi,” you stammered to Enobaria and Cato who now filled the empty space in the elevator, leaving everyone in awkward silence. “You’d think the elevators here would be bigger…” you continued, trying to break the tension and Haymitch shook his head, but the ride was over almost as quickly as it began. The elevator reaching the second floor and Enobaria scoffed as she exited while Cato looked back before the doors could close

  “See you at the Interviews tomorrow…” he said, looking only at Delly

  “Yeah” was all she seemed to muster, looking at Haymitch as if to ask his permission for something and the elevator doors closed slowly with the two of them staring at each other. Whatever happened in District 2 wouldn’t be so easily forgotten but you could tell that someone, most likely Haymitch, had told Delly to put it behind her and she was trying desperately to do it. 

  “The interviews are important,” Haymitch finally said, “that’s where you’ll get Sponsors…”

  “We got this,” you said lightly, “I believe in us.” 

xx

Delly’s P.O.V

  The Tributes were all lined up, waiting to walk up on stage and complete their interview with Caesar Flickerman. You had to control your breathing, you could feel the tight bodice of your dress restricting any deep breaths but you still had to at least appear calm or the pulsing lights that Cinna had added to yours and Asher’s outfits, continuing the theme from the Parade, would be the only thing the crowd would notice. Maybe that wouldn’t be the worst thing, you thought, maybe that would distract them from my awful answers. 

  One by one, Tributes went for their interviews and charmed the audience before taking their place at the back of the stage as the dramatic lighting lit the entire room. By the time it was your turn, you were almost too nervous to breathe, 

  “Look,” you sighed, turning to Asher before you were pulled on stage, “just be yourself. Don’t think too much. Everything will be fine. Try and joke your way out of the awkwardness,” your voice was starting to fade as you got further and further away, “I love you.” More than anything, you wanted him to know that he was safe. It was going to be a stressful few minutes and this was all new, there was no telling what would happen when either of you stepped out on stage. 

  “DELLY CARTWRIGHT FROM DISTRICT 12!” Caesar introduced you, a bright grin gleaming as he directed you to the chair. The coloured lights moved across the backdrop, behind the Victors, while a spotlight followed you across the stage, your fitted dress constricting your legs just enough that your walk was more of a saunter. When you finally sat down, you waved to the audience, knowing that’s what Haymitch would tell you to do, and smiled at Caesar. “Hello!” he grinned, as he sat in his shimmering blue suit across from you, lavender hair pairing effortlessly.

  “Hi!” you returned, in just as peppy of a voice

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Would you hate me if I said ‘nervous’?” 

  “Of course not!” Caesar chuckled, teasingly smacking your hand, “why are you nervous, Delly?”

  “Well,” you started, “my brother and I are the only non-Victor Tributes. It’s a little intimidating…”

  “Of course,” he replied, smile fading and his expression changed to one more serious, “but at the same time, you know what to expect from them. They don’t know what to expect from you”

  “I didn’t think of it that way,” you smiled, giving Caesar a playful wink, “I guess you’re right!”

  “I usually am,” he said quickly, the audience giggling along, earning a knowing smile from Caesar and a small wink. “Now, Delly,” he asked, letting the silence fall back over the audience, which you knew meant more serious questions, “District 12 has a knack for heart wrenching stories. Katniss volunteering for her younger sister, Star Crossed Lovers and now…” his words faded as he outstretched his arms to you and you smiled shyly. “You and your brother’s names were drawn on Reaping Day and there were no volunteers this year”

  “No, Caesar,” you replied, solemnly, “there weren’t”

  “How are you feeling going into the arena with your brother?” you took a second to look out into the crowd, contemplating your answer

  “I’m conflicted,” you admitted but chose your words carefully, “I’m nervous about what’s going to happen in the Arena. I’m sad that either of us have to risk our lives for the other but I’m grateful that I get to spend as much time as I can with him”

  “Awwwwwww,” Caesar cooed, getting the crowd involved as well, “that’s so sweet. Now, tell me,” he switched abruptly, catching you off guard and your eyes grew wide, “for a district so… dark, we’re getting a lot of fire from the Tributes of 12.” Caesar said, pivoting to a question that was sure to get a reaction from the audience, “Katniss, infamously, was the Girl on Fire”

  “She was such a spark wasn’t she?” you added, wanting to linger on the strength of someone else instead of trying to evade your lack thereof

  “She was— Oh I like what you did there!” he laughed heartily and you smiled brightly in return, “but you and your brother during the Parade were sparkling too. I think I saw real embers flying off the two of you”

  “Well Cinna is a magician,” you smiled playfully, “and he is very good at what he does”

  “Well, yes, of course. But why not represent District 12 as what it is? A coal district. Put on some dust and a black outfit and call it a day…”

  “Like I’m wearing right now?” you asked, almost in a teasing way, gesturing to the matte charcoal dress on your body

  “Well, yes,” he replied as he leaned in, “to be honest, I’m surprised Cinna let you out like this. So simple, so… subdued. Is that all there is?” He raised an eyebrow before a grin creeped onto his face. You looked into the audience, finding Cinna and he nodded, letting you know it was the right time

  “You’re right, Cinna always leaves a spark.” you smiled softly, “Would you like to see?” The audience cheered as you stood up, Caesar laughing eagerly. You glanced at the Victors at the back of the stage, only now starting to feel a little silly, but you noticed Cato give you a comforting nod, like permission to be innocent one last time. You took a breath and began to slowly turn, the seams of the dress began to glow brighter as the charcoal overlay fell away like ash, revealing a soft Canary yellow tulle gown with a modest ball gown skirt, flutter tulle sleeves, a corset bodice and subtle glowing ember threads embedded in the fabric. 

  For the first time since coming here, you felt like you. The dark colours, the symbolism, it all made sense, but you needed the brightness. You needed the light.

  “Would you look at that folks!” Caesar grinned, his smile sparkling, “from Coal to Canary. Very reminiscent of District 12 I would say, wouldn’t you?” you nodded in return, urging him to continue, “Coal mines always used to have Canaries didn’t they? To signal danger?”

  “That’s very true, Caesar,” you said, matching his smile 

  “So is that what they mean?” he asked and you tilted your head, feigning confusion, “are you signalling danger?”

  “Ah, I see,” you smiled, looking out at the audience with a playful throw away d’oy gesture to yourself. “No, no, well, yes, there is danger ahead, but this,” you said, straightening the soft tulle of your dress as you spoke, “I think it shows our resilience, our ability to shine through the darkness. It shows that where there is light, there is strength”

  “That is beautiful,” he said before ending the interview, “Delly Cartwright, everyone!” You waved to the crowd as you walked back up the stairs at the back of the stage toward the Victors, taking your place beside Chaff. You had done your part and now it was Asher’s turn.

  Asher stumbled a little but he was the youngest Tribute here, you hoped that would give him grace, but you knew he just needed one good line. Something that the crowd could latch onto. His outfit, like yours, flickered as he breathed 

  “Asher,” Caesar began, “you’re so composed tonight, nervous?”

  “Very,” he laughed lightly, clearing his throat, “I keep thinking I’ll wake up back home but I never do…”

  “Speaking of home,” Caesar pressed, “are Katniss and Peeta’s legacies still felt?”

  “Sure,” he said and your face contorted into worry for your brother, “but it’s more of a shadow. We just try not to get lost in it…” It felt like he was getting more nervous as the interview went on and you hoped he could find his way back

  “What is your strategy for the Arena?” Caesar grinned, trying to pull something out of your brother

  “I can’t tell you that,” Asher joked, trying to provide some ere of mystery, “let me just say I’m gonna do my best”

  “Okay,” Caesar said, you could tell he was bored by the answer and you dropped your head in early defeat, before remembering the audience could see you. “Alright. Let me ask you this,” Caesar continued, “this is the first time you’ve been out of District 12, what has been your favourite part so far?” You could tell that Caesar was trying to bring light back to the interview to show the crowd that Asher was still young and eager

  “The train ride here was so exciting!” he smiled youthfully and you saw the brother you loved, the boy that you knew the Capitol would love as well. The lights on his suit now pulsing as his excitement grew, “it was so fast and everything was so pristine and beautiful. It’s unlike anything I’d ever seen”

  “What about the food?” Caesar said

  “There’s so much of it!” Asher laughed, “I couldn’t fill my pockets fast enough.” It seemed like Caesar found Asher’s footing for him and, for that, you would be eternally grateful. Both of you needed all the help you could get and the easiest help would come from the Sponsors. As Asher finished his interview, and walked up to meet you, he took your hand and squeezed it in relief, leading you to take Chaff’s hand; the rest of the Victors’ raising their hands in succession. A move you didn’t expect. It was clearly somewhat a show of defiance from the Victors, but it also felt like there could be some camaraderie among them as well. As you and Asher stood next to each other, hands raised, the lights in your outfits pulsed in sync - like two embers glowing in the dark. 

xx

Cato’s P.O.V

  Walking into the Training Centre should’ve felt familiar, comfortable even, but you felt everyone’s eyes on you. Was it because you were the latest Victor or was it because they knew something you didn’t? 

  “Time to step up, Golden Boy,” Cashmere teased, “you better have something exciting this year…” You shook your head, picking up a large sword before taking a look around the room. Victors in every space working on their combat skills, knowing that more than likely that’s what they’d have to rely on, Gamemakers atop the Centre watching from a protected area - something you were sure was because of Katniss’ stunt last year - and Asher and Delly on the sidelines. 

  You continued on with your training, feeling the weight of the sword before you swept it across the chest of the mannequin in front of you. The sword almost felt part of you, like an extension, and that fact was proof enough that the Capitol had sculpted you exactly how they wanted you. This sword was put there for you but you couldn’t give them the satisfaction. You had been very theatrical last year, a lot of show, because that’s what you’d be trained to do - make the others fear you, let them know what you were capable of - but you didn’t need to do that now. You had nothing to prove. There was part of you, though, that knew you had to show up. Show up the way Snow wanted you to or it would be suspicious. You looked over at Delly and Asher, keeping to themselves as they tried to figure out the best moves to make

  “You gonna say something to her?” Finnick said, his back to you as if he was pretending not to have a conversation, “she could probably use your support”

  “Trust me,” you sighed, “it’s better for her if I keep my distance. I can’t give anyone here any ammo to torment her.” Finnick stretched lazily before grabbing a Trident and throwing it towards the Cartwrights; your breath nearly knocked out of you. Fuck, you exhaled sharply, hands gripping the sword tightly, turning away quickly when you noticed Delly finally look at you. 

  “Snow is gonna hold this over your head as long as you let him,” Finnick said, raising his hand at Delly as she looked at him with fear on her features, “he owns us. But he doesn’t own her.”

  “She’s only here because…” you hesitated

  “Because you fell in love with her,” he finished your thought, turning his body just enough to face you, “you know I know how this goes. How it feels to love someone so soft, so innocent, when you’ve spent your entire life being sharpened. But you don’t have to continue to be the villain in her story.” You furrowed your brow at him, 

  “How am I supposed to be anything else?” you said, a bite to your words, “to the Capitol, I’m the Victor who killed her best friend and the one who got her other friend whipped. There’s no way they’d believe that she wouldn’t see me as a villain”

  “Are you sure about that?” he smirked, “isn’t that exactly what happened?” He finally walked toward Delly and Asher, picking up his Trident and placing his hand on his chest to apologize. You couldn’t overhear what they were saying but you knew he was playing up his charm, putting the two of them at ease. You thought you were doing the right thing by keeping your distance. You couldn’t let anyone know that you had any connection to her or what plan you were concocting. It might have been a crazy one, but if your plan was going to work, the relationship had to develop in the Arena. Which meant you had to wait.

xx

Delly’s P.O.V

  Cato ignored you during the entire Training session in the Centre. You tried to focus on different things, what weapons you could use if needed, what Asher could manage, but every time you picked up any type of weapon, it felt unnatural. 

  “What about this one?” Asher asked, holding up a small knife, “I can hide it, maybe no one would be able to tell…”

  “That’s great, Ash,” you smiled, “do you want to practice with it?”

  “Should I?” he said, looking over at the sibling pair from District 1, “would that give any edge I have away?”

  “Better to give them something than nothing,” you admitted, “at least if they see you attempting and failing, they could underestimate you and you could use that to your advantage somehow.” He nodded and made his way to a row of moving targets alternating left to right. He threw the knife and missed the first target, you smiled sympathetically but encouraged him to continue. The first knife had bounced back and landed in front of his feet, Asher knelt down to pick it up and you noticed him look to the others quickly, the sounds of Gloss, Cashmere and Enobaria snickering coming from across the room. He stood back up and took a strong stance, throwing the knife with seemingly all the force he could muster - it had flown high and you almost didn’t realize that there was a net above the targets, until you heard the slice and fake fruit came crashing down. You smiled at your brother, clutching both his hands in yours before giving him a hug. “Perfect” you said, excited for your brother and proud of what this could mean for him.

  By the time of your private session, you hadn’t really landed on a skill. Haymitch told you to be flashy, “It worked for Katniss” he said, but you weren’t Katniss. You had always managed to stay in the background, watching and taking in everything. You didn’t think there was anything wrong with that but maybe you had to try something new… You walked into the Training Centre, composed, trying to be as steady as you could be, and looked at the table of weapons the Gamemakers had laid out. A Trident, a sword, a few daggers, a bow and arrow and a small, almost invisible, slingshot. You picked it up and got a feel for it, heavier than a normal slingshot than you might have at home, but easy to carry. You and Peeta used to use slingshots sometimes when he’d paint

  “It makes this really cool splashing effect,” he’d say with his signature smile. It was a lot of fun and it didn’t require you to be the best shot so you tried to use the little knowledge you had of it to show the Gamemakers that you could manage. You set up a small row of objects but varied them slightly so they weren’t in a perfect line - some were close together, some were farther apart, - and you stood about 10 feet away. I hope this works, you thought to yourself as you took a deep breath, placing a small rock in the slingshot and firing at the first object; the rock hit the first object and ricocheted off, hitting the next object diagonal from the first - hopefully, that looked intentional. You got through that with relatively no trouble but you looked up at the Gamemakers and they seemed to be sitting back. You tried not to focus on them, maybe if you acted like they weren’t there you’d do better.

  You tried to think of how you could really win points but you were starting to panic when you noticed a bag of something and you laid it out on the floor, forcing the Gamemakers to pay attention now. As their eyes all turned to you, you gulped slightly, they probably think you’re making a fool of yourself, you sighed, just keep going Delly. You began laying out the soil in the bag into a trail of sorts. Trying to make it thick enough to keep a visible footprint. You looked up at the Gamemakers before taking off the light jacket the Capitol had provided in the Training Uniforms and ripping it apart until it was thin. Before doing anything else, you checked to see if there were any twigs or anything that could be used to imitate twigs, something that would snap, placing a few small pieces of wood along the soil path you’d made. Next, you took the thin pieces of ripped up fabric and wrapped them tightly around your feet, making sure nothing was dragging; they were to be a second skin, nothing more. 

  The Gamemakers were closer to the edge now, as close as they could go without risking their safety, watching as you padded your way across the soil, lightly first and then more deliberately - no footprints. You smiled, feeling accomplished by your skill, but they went back to how they were. Your time was almost up but you had one more choice, “Can I get one of you to join me please?” you asked politely, hearing them chuckle from above, “I won’t bite, I promise”

  “What do you need, girl?” Seneca Crane called out

  “I just need you to follow me…” you said, Crane narrowing his eyes but his intrigue must have gotten the best of him because he joined you on the main floor. “I’m going to.. disappear. When you don’t see me anymore, I want you to follow my footsteps.” you said, telling him to keep track as best he could of your movements. 

  “Like hide and seek?” he smirked

  “Yeah,” you smiled, “like hide and seek.” He nodded in return, almost excited now to be part of your game and you began walking around the room in a small loop at first, before switching it up and zigzagging across the room, you heard a giggle from the Gamemakers and took a sharp turn behind a post. After a moment, you heard the scuffling of shoes and you circled back to where you started, careful not to let any of the other Gamemakers see you just yet, in case they gave your location away. It took Seneca Crane another 5 minutes to follow your path, the exact way you’d done it, before he got to the post where you had turned. When he noticed that you weren’t there, he looked around in surprise, but he never went behind the post. You finally decided to creep up behind him, looking up at the Gamemakers with your index finger in front of your lips, finally tapping his shoulder when you got behind him, smiling gently

  “Whoa,” he laughed, whether he was feigning surprise or actually surprised, you weren’t sure but you would take the win, “there you are!” He laughed in turn before heading back to his spot up top.

  You were just happy it was over. You hoped Asher’s session went just as well or better. As you walked out of the Centre and back to your apartment, all you could think to yourself was “if I can’t win fighting, I can survive in the shadows.”

xx

Cato’s P.O.V

  Sitting on the hard, charcoal grey couch, you began watching the scores of the Tributes’ private sessions in the training centre. Nothing was overly surprising in a group of Victors - everyone received 11’s, except for Mags and Wiress, who each received 8’s

  “Now for District 12,” Caesar said. The ratings weren’t a time for entertainment, it was all about facts, so he was straight to the point. “The male Tribute, Asher, receives a score of 6,” you nodded contently, you weren’t expecting anything major, he was young and meek, “and last but definitely not least, our District 12 female Tribute, Delly, has been awarded…” Caesar started, flipping to his last piece of paper, unintentionally prolonging the broadcast, “a score of 8.” 

  “I wonder what she did to get an 8,” Enobaria asked as the TV screen went blank, the broadcast having finished, “that girl just seems like she’d sing a lullaby or something. I would’ve put money on her getting a 3, at most”

  “Well, then,” you smirked, “I guess you would’ve lost. You worried, Enobaria?”

  “Oh yeah,” she scoffed, “I’m shaking.” You rolled your eyes and grabbed something from the kitchen before going to bed. The morning seemed like it came before you could breathe. You lay there, under the black comforter, waiting to feel the excitement you had felt last year on the first day of the Quell. But this wasn’t like that. Nothing felt right and for the first time, you could understand why the outer Districts loved Katniss so much. You had been raised to believe that fighting in the Games meant you were fighting to represent Panem, that fighting for the Capitol was valiant, but now that you’ve won, now that you've seen what everyone has had to endure, you see that it’s the opposite. Katniss wasn’t a fan favourite because she volunteered for her sister, it was because she was fighting against the Capitol. Against Snow. For Panem.

xx

Delly’s P.O.V

  “What do you think will be up there?” you asked Cinna as you stood on the small silver platform that would take you up into the Arena. Cinna fidgeted with the sleeves of the tight jumpsuit that the Capitol provided each of the Tributes

  “I never know,” he smiled before taking a step back, “what do you want it to be?”

  “Something soft,” you joked, trying to keep the moment innocent, “a field of flowers, with Teddy Bears and blankets to keep everybody warm”

  “That sounds nice,” he added, “warm sun, cool breeze.” You nodded in return but the lightness turned solemn as the thought of blood spilling over everything clouded your mind

  “...and no bloodshed” you said, dropping your head

  “Listen, Delly,” he said, placing his hands on your shoulders, “don’t lose yourself in there. It’s easy to do, I’ve watched these kids do anything they could to survive..”

  “Isn’t that the point?” you interrupted

  “Maybe,” he added, “but they change into something they never would have imagined and it didn’t help them in the end. I see so much of Peeta in you,” he smiled, placing his hands softly on either side of your face, and you felt your eyes burning with tears, “keep that kindness. It is your best quality and your fiercest strength”

  “Thank you, Cinna,” you said as you composed yourself again, a whirring beginning around you, you quickly gave Cinna a hug before a cylinder of glass surrounded you and you were raised up, blinded by the bright sun when you finally reached the top. You searched for Asher first, not noticing anything else but no matter how long you searched, you didn’t see Asher. Cashmere and Enobaria were on either side of you but past them you had to squint to see who was past them - the distance between everyone was far wider than you anticipated and you felt disoriented. 

  The countdown began after a short announcement and you finally looked around; the sun shimmering off fast-flowing water, rows of black rocks leading to the sharp edged Cornucopia in the centre of a circle. Past the rocks and the Cornucopia was a beach surrounded by palm trees that engulfed the entire space. What was past the trees, you thought to yourself as the countdown continued, should I run to the Cornucopia or swim to the beach? You couldn’t run very fast, that wasn’t a question, but the question was would anyone notice you swimming the other way? You finally focused on the clock as it got down to the last 10 seconds, trying to make up your mind. Risk it or run straight into the chaos?

  “5, 4, 3, 2, 1,” the voice continued and a boom echoed, signalling the start of the games, everyone jumping off their platforms and heading for the middle. You lingered a few seconds, “make a choice, Delly” you urged yourself, finally jumping into the water and turning around - there was nothing in the Cornucopia that you could see yourself being able to use, it wasn’t like you got to sort through what was there, so you swam as fast as you could to find refuge on a beach, hoping that Asher would do the same.

  As the cannons went off, you took a look of what was around you. The beaches around you didn’t look different from each other, it was just a big circle of trees and sand and water, but there had to be something different; something about the set up of the ring gave you pause. Like you recognized it but weren’t sure how. You walked along the beach to see if anyone was around but you were pretty sure that no one had beaten you to this spot, and from what you could tell, it was just you. Even as you made your way through the trees, you didn’t find any footprints or broken branches, so you made your way back to the beach. If it weren’t for what this place was, it would actually be very beautiful. The water was crystal clear, the bright sun sparkling off of it, and the trees were the greenest you’d ever seen; it was like a dream. A dream that would slowly shift into a nightmare. As the night came to an end, you’d managed, somehow, to make it through the night but when the sky lit up with the Capitol emblem and music, your heart raced as you hoped that Asher wouldn’t be up there, a sigh of relief escaping you when he wasn’t. Stay safe, Ash, you whispered to yourself, before closing your eyes for the night.

  You woke up at the sudden, loud, long hollow gong echoing through the Arena. There were 12 gongs, what’s that about? you thought, 12 districts? Maybe midnight? Once it stopped, you heard a sharp crack from above you. You moved closer to the water to see what the noise was, finding a tree on top of a mountain being repeatedly struck by lightning; one right after the other, there were three in total but nothing more than the lightning, leaving you a little confused. You walked along the beach once more, to see if anything had changed, even more confused when it didn’t seem like it did, deciding to walk up to find the tree; Something must have changed, you pondered as you continued walking. The walk up the hill was steep but it was quiet, telling you that no one was around just yet, and when you finally got to the tree that the lightning had struck, you took a look around. There was virtually no light, so it was hard to see anything but you could tell the ground at the base of the tree was lightly charred, which must mean that the lightning was more than you expected, amplified for the Arena.

  “Sst–” you jerked your hand back from the tree, looking at your palm to see if your skin was burning. Shit, that hurt, you winced to yourself, not daring to curse out loud. You wanted to climb the tree to see if you could get a better vantage point of everything, considering it was the tallest tree, but you weren’t sure if you could find anything to keep the heat away while also keeping your grip. You looked around for a while but couldn’t find anything that would work, that’s when you heard a small noise, almost like a wind chime but more robotic, and you saw a small silver container falling from the sky. You ran to it, hoping this would be exactly what you needed, opening the cover and quickly taking out a soft, black scarf. 

  “This should help, x Cinna.” The note attached to the small container read. The scarf was thin enough not to cause bulk if you needed to keep it, and long enough that you could use it easily to hoist yourself up the tree. Something about the scarf caught your eye and you took a closer look, finding different coloured threads throughout, reminding you of your parade and interview looks - those slow burning ember veins throughout the fabric - and there was something stitched inside. 

  It must be something Cinna didn’t want anyone to see but you weren’t sure if you could keep it hidden from all the cameras surrounding you. “Still glowing, he is too” the message said. Asher, you said out loud, eyes widened at the newfound knowledge that your brother was alive; thank you, you smiled to the camera, hoping Cinna would know you were talking to him as you held the scarf to your chest. You moved close to the tree again, looking up before slowly touching the trunk, cooler now but still too hot to climb without some kind of protection. You wrapped the scarf around your right hand, bunching it before tossing it around to the other side of the tree and grabbing the other end with your left hand - the base of the tree was almost too thick for your arms to stretch but you had to push through. You took a deep breath before pulling the scarf tightly slightly above your head and began to climb, one foot after the other

  “Keep going, Delly,” you said to yourself, repeating the words that your dad had said to you and Asher before you were pulled from them in District 12. You grunted as you continued to pull yourself up, body rising slowly up the tree and you tried to even out your breathing. You slipped once, the scarf only folding slightly down, and you nearly froze but you were too close to stop now. Once the other trees were underneath you, you moved to a sturdy branch and sat down, smiling to yourself with pride and looking out at the Arena. There was a faint shine from the moon that let you see the Arena from the top of the tree and you furrowed your brow, clearly seeing the layout now, noticing that the tail of the Cornucopia was pointing to where you were. Another gong rang out and you looked around, noticing heavy clouds forming over the trees to your left and nowhere else.

  “Heavy rain?” you thought, brows still furrowed, “maybe there’s no shelter there… but the trees look the same.” If it’s the only spot with water, then anyone on the opposite beaches would have to find something else or walk all that way, potentially causing Tributes to fall along the way but something told you it wasn’t that simple. It couldn’t be. Not in the Hunger Games. You waited a moment, trying to get a better idea of what the layout meant before you made any firm choices. A few minutes passed before you finally decided to climb back down the tree, keeping the scarf around your shoulders when your feet were planted on the ground. You weren’t sure how long you would be safe here so you had to keep moving but as you walked through the forest, you noticed a discoloration on some of the leaves, although the darkness made it difficult to know for sure, so you moved towards it; blood? you said, rubbing the thick gooey substance between your thumb and middle finger, there was still rain falling from the sky but it wasn’t water, it was blood. It seemed not to cross the line where you were, only the occasional drop ricocheting off something and landing on a rock or branch in the area you continued to walk. 

  You watched as the bloodrain slowly came to an end and the cloud dissipated. After a moment, a single cannon sounded and you dropped your head in remembrance of whoever had fallen; You would have to wait until the end of the night to see who it was, having to hope once more that Asher would not be on the screen. The water in the middle of the arena, where the platforms rose from, was salt water, you had gotten some in your mouth when you jumped in and swam to the beach, so you knew you couldn’t drink it but you’d have to get some water soon, you felt your lips beginning to crack as they dried. 

  As you walked down the mountainside, you noticed someone moving through the trees beside you, in the area where it had rained, but you couldn’t make out any physical descriptors. You didn’t know if it was a friend or foe, so you kept your distance. It wasn’t until you got closer to the beach that you saw Johanna, covered in blood before washing just enough of it off so she could see clearly. You weren’t sure if you should talk to her, she had only met you that one time, she was nice, but maybe the Games, the Arena, would bring something out in her that you couldn’t trust. You kept your distance, choosing instead to walk East, away from Johanna, instead of West. You got to another area, again looking around for something that could be different or any other Tribute, when another gong went off. To your left was the District 10 male Tribute, Victor - you still couldn’t figure out what to call them - but his name had completely escaped you. You both stood still for what felt like ages, waiting for the other to make a move. 

  You felt a small tear form in the corner of your eye. You weren’t ready to die but you didn’t have anything to fight him off with. Except the scarf. He came at you suddenly, knocking you onto the ground before his hands clasped around your neck and you struggled to get out of his grasp. His grip tightened and your vision started to cloud with spots, leading you to claw at the District 10 male’s hands until you finally swept your hand around the dirt around you, picking up a rock and mustering up the strength to hit him over the head just enough to get free. You began to run away from the Victor behind you, when you slipped and began to roll down the steep hill, colliding with trees the further down you fell, until you were able to grab hold of something to stop you from falling. Once you got your bearings, you looked to see where the District 10 male had gone, continuing to hide behind trees; doing your best to get to the beach, your best bet for safety. 

  He caught up with you just once, the Victor, knocking you down before you made it to the soft sand on the beach. You stood back up quickly and backed up, looking around you to find something, anything, that you could use to keep him away - surprised when an axe flew past your head and landed in the District 12 male’s chest. You felt your breath stay in your throat, as if it couldn’t reach your mouth to escape, and you were stiff, too scared to move. When you finally took your eyes off the body laying on the ground, blood now spilling on the once pure sand, you were met with Johanna’s stare. She was covered in blood, she must have been hit by the rain, you thought to yourself before glancing around at who was with her, seeing Beetee and Wiress in the distance. 

  “Hey” Johanna smirked and, out of fear, you ran to the water and swam as fast as you could, as far as you could, before you could find out what would happen next. It didn’t take long until you were dizzy, the lack of water finally getting to you, and you had to hold onto one of the platforms that you had reached to steady yourself and get your bearings. You looked back to the beach and saw Johanna, Beetee and Wiress, with the help of the fake moonlight, washing the blood off themselves and it seemed like they had no opinions of you at all; they weren’t chasing you, Johanna hadn’t moved, she had watched you swim until she thought you were safe. As if she was making sure no one else was in the water with you, and then she turned to the two with her, directing them to sit on the beach, clutching her head in her hands - you’re fine, you said to yourself, she didn’t want to hurt you. The thought confused you, but you couldn’t dwell on it, you had to keep going. You continued swimming until you got to the rocks, climbing up and walking along them slowly until you got to the Cornucopia, eyes tracing up the tail almost to confirm what you had thought, it pointed right at the tree. 12. You thought to yourself, writing on your palm. Next to the beach that you were on was were Johanna was, where the blood had fallen and covered them from head to toe

  “BOOM, BOOM,” the cannon sounded twice, once for the District 10 male and the other was uncertain. A Capitol helicopter came through and picked up the bodies without touched the ground, and you glanced up at the moon, noticing it hovering over Johanna, the cold blue light shining almost eerily, and you said to yourself, 1, continuing your thought from a moment ago, keeping your eyes focused on Johanna. Something was telling you to focus on the moon, like a grumbling from below telling you that the sky was safe but the ground wasn’t. You looked around at the rows of rocks, all equal sized wedges that seemed to divide the beaches. 

  “I’m right…” you whispered, shocked by how you figured it out, you weren’t really sure when you realized it, but you felt it in your bones, “it’s a clock.” A small smile started to grow on your face in quiet pride but it didn’t last long. As if the Gamemakers wanted to show their anger, the ground began to groan and rumble, vibrating under your feet and your eyes went wide with fear. 

  Before you knew it, everything shifted and you were thrown into the water, your body crashing into the rocks before the tide took you under. I should’ve known, you thought as you struggled to make it to the surface, there’s no getting out of here.  

[anxious-nooodle-reads]

Sunrise on the Reaping

by Suzanne Collins

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️.5 // ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

See my review below

**This review will contain indirect spoilers for the book. Please do not read if you haven’t enjoyed the book yet and plan to**

The long anticipated Haymitch story has arrived, and I must say I was not disappointed. Haymitch was perceived as a rebellious drunk for the trilogy, but you had to know he was, more or less, forced into it before then. Finally getting the backstory to his character was worth the wait.

The beginning threw me for a loop when Haymitch wasn’t even the original victim of the reaping itself. I immediately was upset for him as he never should’ve gone to the capital in the first place. He was robbed of his life with his family and love.

I had indulged in “A Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes” right before reading this novel to read the series in the new, chronological order, and with the newest addition, it continued to show how awful Snow became throughout the years. The Capitol was already awful throughout the books we have in this universe so far, but Haymitch’s journey continued to show it by forcing him to participate as a replacement, replacing a dead tribute, and refusing to manipulate what those in the Districts saw on television from events leading into the Games. We also saw that the Gamemakers had already been awful in the early years, and they continued to get worse from the time of Snow’s experience to the original trilogy point in time.

Haymitch was proven to always have been rebellious towards the Capitol from the start of the novel all the way through to the end. He learned, unfortunately, throughout the Games that the Capitol was always one step ahead of their thinking. They had preventatives to ensure Tributes could not leave the Arena as well as having backups for their sources of power.

It was also devastating to go through what Snow forced upon Haymitch’s family and love. Haymitch may have walked way with his life, but everything he held near and dear to him was stripped away due to how unjust he felt the Games are. It becomes painfully clear as to why he’s a drunk, and that he had little to no want to actually mentor the Tributes when we get to Katniss’ and Peeta’s Games. It also is obvious why he calls Katniss “sweetheart” in their time with him.

Haymitch deserved more. He got thrown into something he never should’ve been apart of, and his life was ripped up to shreds afterwards. My love for Haymitch has grown with this book, and I sincerely hope that Suzanne continues to give us more of our beloved characters.

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Recommend? Yes. Yes. Yes!

Reread? Yes, I absolutely will!

Smut? Nah. This is YA anyway, so you shouldn’t have expected there to be.