#effie makes gifs now

[rennarita]

[dogsrotten]

"where were you when everything was falling apart ?"

[onlybeeewrites]

A Change of Plans

Request: hi!! could i request a oneshot for haymitch where theyre already in a relationship, takes place during the 75th hunger games and shes reaped, reader is very similar to annie cresta - soft spoken, shy, kind but emotionally fragile due to past trauma - maybe haymitch and katniss’s alliance negotiations are more desperate because he promised to get her out of the games? please and thank you!!

Pairing: Haymitch Abernathy x Fem!reader 

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: mentions of PTSD, spoilers for Catching Fire 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The train hummed beneath them—too smooth, too quiet—like it had no business carrying something as ugly as death. Haymitch sat stiffly in his usual seat, a glass in hand he hadn’t touched. For once, the burn of liquor wasn’t enough. Not for this.

The reaping was over.

For District 12, at least.

Katniss and Peeta were reaped.

Well—he was. Technically.

Peeta volunteered, though it wasn’t like Haymitch could do much to stop him. Not when the Capitol stacked the deck so neatly, not when Snow already knew every move they’d make before they made it.

It was all exactly what he feared.

And somehow worse.

Because it wasn’t just Katniss and Peeta.

It was who else had been chosen.

The third Quarter Quell.

Where the victors themselves became the tributes.

A punishment wrapped in a celebration.

He hadn’t seen her yet. Hadn’t let himself imagine it. Wouldn’t allow her face to take shape in his mind—not until he had to. He thought he could delay it. Maybe she wouldn’t be reaped. Maybe, for once, the odds would lean in their favor.

Now, the screen played the recaps—district by district. A slow, cruel countdown. Effie had turned the volume up, her voice unnaturally chipper when she said they should “know who we’re up against.”

Peeta sat with his elbows on his knees, eyes fixed. Katniss sat rigid beside him, barely breathing.

A notepad lay in Peeta’s lap, filled with frantic notes and rough sketches. Names circled, others crossed out, arrows and question marks scribbled into the margins. He wrote based on Haymitch’s earlier comments—strategy, personalities, strengths. He wanted to be ready. Wanted to protect her.

They didn’t know how impossible that would be.

Haymitch sat bracing himself. His hands were already trembling, though he hadn’t taken a sip. He didn’t look at the others. Didn’t dare.

District 8.

The screen flickered.

There she was.

Standing alone on the platform, washed in that horrible blue-white Capitol lighting that made everyone look a little more ghost than human. Her hands were folded in front of her, fingers white at the knuckles. Her shoulders hunched slightly, like she was trying to make herself disappear into herself.

Just her and one other female tribute.

She hadn’t changed much. Maybe a few more lines around her eyes, a new softness in her features. But the essence of her remained untouched. The gentleness. The quiet strength. The kindness.

Even now, she looked soft.

Everything the arena was not.

Katniss inhaled sharply beside him. “Oh.”

Effie’s hand fluttered up to her mouth, her expression crumbling. “Oh no…”

Haymitch didn’t look at them. Didn’t acknowledge anything but the screen. His heart thudded slow and sick in his chest, and his fingers curled tight around the glass he still hadn’t touched.

Y/N stepped forward when they called her name. Her voice was low, trembling—barely above a whisper. But she walked. Unflinching. No dramatics. No sobs. Just the quiet dignity she always carried, like a thread sewn into her very bones.

She didn’t look surprised.

She didn’t cry.

That was her.

Always braver than anyone realized.

Braver than him.

“Won’t the other volunteer for her? She’s…” Peeta’s voice trailed off, uncertain, trying to say the right thing. “She’s not the most violent, is she?”

Haymitch’s jaw clenched. “I doubt it,” he said tightly. “The other female victor, Cecilia. Sweet woman. But she’s got three kids. If she wasn’t picked, she wouldn’t volunteer.”

Katniss was watching him now, not the screen. Her voice dropped into something softer than he’d ever heard it. “You didn’t think they’d pick her.”

“No,” he said flatly. “But then again…” He raised the glass, whiskey burning his throat. “Sometimes the odds are leaned into our favor.”

He tasted bitterness more than alcohol.

Because he knew.

He knew Snow did this on purpose.

Picked this Quarter Quell theme.

Picked Katniss.

Picked her.

This wasn’t justice. It wasn’t random. It was Snow’s hand around his throat, squeezing harder every time Haymitch dared to hope for something better. Dared to love something again.

Haymitch leaned forward and set the glass down, scrubbing his hands over his face like he could erase the image burned into the back of his eyelids—his wife, his wife, standing stiffly as Peacekeepers took her from the stage. They cut the footage just before she looked back.

But he didn’t need to see it.

He knew that look.

He’d seen it before.

The first time she was reaped, before they’d ever met.

Before she won.

Before he ever dared to let someone in again.

He had spent years protecting her in the only way he knew how—keeping her name quiet, keeping her out of the Capitol’s grasp, tucked away in the shadows of District 8. She had always felt too good for this world. Too soft for it. But she’d survived it once.

Her condition, her fragility, her gentle demeanor—none of it ever made her weak. It just made her precious. To him.

Now they were throwing her back into the fire.

“Haymitch,” Effie said gently. Her voice had lost all its Capitol shine. “I am… so terribly sorry.”

He didn’t answer. What was there to say?

There was no plan. No maneuver. No clever twist of words that could undo this.

All he could see was her. That quiet smile she gave him when she mended his clothes. The way she held his hand in bed when the nights were too dark. The smell of her hair. The small kiss to his wrist when she thought he was asleep. Her voice saying his name like it meant something.

Gone.

No.

Not gone.

Still within reach.

The plan was still in motion. The one he’d built with Plutarch piece by piece. But now… now it needed to be reshaped. Bent to save her.

He stood abruptly. His voice was rough, slurred at the edges, but solid where it counted. “She’s not dying in that arena.”

“Haymitch—” Peeta started, knowing that at the end, only one of them could get out. There was no way they’d let them get away with it a second year. 

He turned, eyes burning. “I mean it. I don’t care what it takes. If we’re—” He stopped himself. Too many ears. Too many cameras. He gritted his teeth.

Katniss nodded slowly, picking up what he was putting down. “We’ll watch her back. But you know how this works. Especially now. Only one can make it out.”

Only one.

That’s what the Capitol wanted them to believe.

But Katniss and Peeta didn’t know what he did.

Didn’t know Beetee’s plan.

Plutarch’s plan.

Didn’t know the ship hovering beyond the clouds that would be ready for when the time comes.

Didn’t know he’d already laid the groundwork to get her out. He just needed to get the other Victors on board.

He just had to keep Katniss alive long enough to make it happen.

For the rebellion to happen.

But now he had another factor to worry about. His wife was now stuck in the games. Haymitch needed to figure out a way to keep her safe. Sponsors would only do so much, and Cecelia would ensure you were looked after. The capital loved you and all the clothes you made. A Capital favorite, especially to all the designers like Cinna.

Maybe Finnick would do. He could be trusted.

Or Johanna. She liked Y/N. Had a soft spot for her, even if she’d never admit it.

It could work.

It had to.

Effie dabbed her eyes with a lace handkerchief. “She’s one of the good ones,” she whispered. “Always has been.”

Haymitch didn’t reply.

He couldn’t.

He turned and left, boots heavy against the floor as he crossed the car to his compartment. Once the door slid shut, he walked to the window and leaned a hand against it. The tracks blurred by below, the sky painted in ash and dying light.

Somewhere out there, she was being powdered, painted, packaged for the cameras. Being forced into a dress she didn’t want. Touched by hands that didn’t know her. Made to smile through the terror.

Somewhere, she was alone.

And he was here.

But not for long.

This time, he wouldn’t watch from the sidelines.

This time, if the world wanted war—they’d get it.

Because no one was taking her from him again.

Not without burning for it.

[foxybrownsugababe]

𝐋𝐚 𝐍𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - Aaron Pierre x Black!OC & Kelvin Harrison Jr. x Black!OC

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - In which this random chilly summer night, where two young women sneak their way into the most famous club in town, leads to connection they’ve never thought would happen. The Night Awaits.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - Flirting, tension, slight suggestiveness, strong language

𝐉𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 - I don’t have much to say besides that this idea came to me after watching MLK/X and seeing how fine Aaron look and Kelvin in the Elvis movie. The rest of it sort of just came together.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 6,112+

𝐀𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝟏𝟐, 𝟏𝟗𝟔𝟐

The moon hung high over Baldwin Hills, bathing the neighborhood in silver light, but inside The Greer household, tucked in the well sized room near the back of the homes, the only glow came from the dim lamp on a nightstand. The room was quiet—too quiet. If the girls parents heard even the faintest giggle or shuffle, the night would be over before it even started.

On the other side of the room, a brown skinned woman stood in front of the mirror, twisting side to side, admiring herself in a sleek black dress she had swiped from her mother’s closet. She grinned at her reflection, running her hands over the smooth and tight fabric, letting out a quiet ooh as she posed dramatically.

“Girl, would you just look at me?” She whispered excitedly, swaying her hips. “I swear I look just like Diahann Carroll.” She grinned as she waved around the small ascot the that was attached to the he her when she took the dress.

The other girl, Loretta, who was sitting cross-legged on her bed in nothing but her plain day clothes, lifted a skeptical brow as she brought down the magazine from her face. “Diahann Carroll? Where?”

“Right here, baby.” Effie twirled, her curls bouncing as she turned to face her friend. “Tell me I ain’t the finest thing this side of California?” She said, placing her hands on her hips and looking at the girl. Before she could even make a smart quip that she knew Claudette would laugh at, she had a stern finger pointed at her. “See, ya can’t.” She said with a large smile.

Loretta huffed a laugh, shaking her head. “You stole that from your mama, Effie. Wouldn’t that make her the finest thing on this side of California?” She asked, tilting her head at the girl.

Effie waved a dismissive hand. “Borrowed.” She clarified as she rolled her eyes. “And I’d say she wouldn’t miss it, but you know she’d notice in a heartbeat. That woman checks her closet like a bank vault. You know, six sisters and all.” She shrugged as she smoothed the dress over her hips again, then turned back to the mirror with a dreamy sigh. “But it’s worth it. When I step into La Nuit Rouge tonight, I’m gon’ look like I belong there.” She gushed as she fixed her hair and posed some more in front of the mirror.

Loretta didn’t say anything. She only stared at her best friend before her eyes drifted off to the dress laid out at the foot of her bed—the moving navy blue with a pop of red near the collar, one her mother’s favorite. It didn’t necessarily fit the vibe of the establishment she could possibly sneaking off to, but out of all her church going mother’s clothing, this was probably the most risqué. She had taken it out hours ago, even held it up in front of the mirror, but now she couldn’t bring herself to put it on.

Effie must have noticed her hesitation because she stopped admiring herself long enough to glance over. “What’s the matter, Retta? You ain’t got cold feet now, have you?”

Loretta eyes met hers briefly as she bit the inside of her cheek. “I just…” She trailed off, fidgeting with the hem of her blouse. “I don’t know if I should go.” She mumbled with a shrug, but able to meet her best friend gaze.

Effie’s eyes went wide with exaggerated disbelief. She quickly crossed the room, dropping onto the bed next to Loretta, nearly bouncing them both. “Girl! We done spent the past two weeks plannin’ this night, and you talkin’ ‘bout staying home?” She said rather loudly considering they were trying to be discreet.

“I am home,” Loretta mumbled tensely, signaling for her to lower her voice. She then looked toward the closed bedroom door, her ears tuned to the soft murmur of her parents’ voices in the other room.

Effie rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. We are finally of age, Ruby Mae. We got the hookup at the best club in town, and all you gotta do is put on that dress and walk out the door.” She nudged her with an elbow. “Come on now. You think I’d let anything happen to you?” She asked the girl softly, budding her a bit.

Loretta hesitated, her fingers tracing patterns over her duvet. Truthfully, it wasn’t safety she was worried about. It was the unknown. She wasn’t like Claudette—bold, fearless, always looking for the next thrill. She preferred quiet places, familiar things. But La Nuit Rouge? That place was legendary. It had history, secrets, and sometimes even scandalous rumors. It was the kind of club where people made memories that lasted a lifetime.

And yet, here she was, sitting in plain clothes, scared to even step into it. The strict way she was raised had scared her off from anything that wasn’t the library and Bible study.

Effie must have sensed her doubt because her voice softened. “Loretta Mae.” She said, reaching over and reassuringly squeezing her friend’s hand. “You only get one life, girl. One. And you gon’ spend it sittin’ up in this room forever?” She questioned, tilting her head down to meet the her eyes.

Her words caused Loretta to sigh, staring at the blue dress again. She imagined herself wearing it, imagined the way it would flow around her legs when she walked. She imagined stepping into La Nuit Rouge, seeing all those beautiful, glamorous people, hearing the music that made the walls hum.

And then she imagined letting Effie go without her.

With a slow breath, she nodded. “Alright.” She whispered.

Effie grinned, practically vibrating with excitement. “That’s my girl!” She jumped up, grabbing the dress from the bed and shoving it into Loretta’s hands. “Hurry up and get dressed. I want to be in that club before they run out of all the good liquor.”

Loretta let out a small gasp. “Liquor?” She questioned as she threw the dress from her arms.” You didn’t say nothing about drinking!” She whisper-shouted, standing up stood from the bed.

Effie stifled a laugh, waving her hand dismissively. “Oh, hush, it ain’t like I said we gotta get drunk. But come on now, you think folks go to La Nuit Rouge for just the music? This ain’t no Sunday service, Retta.”

Loretta folded her arms, narrowing her eyes. “You better not try to get me in no trouble.”

Effie clutched her chest like she’d been wounded. “Trouble? Me?” She mockingly questioned but Loretta just gave her a look, causing her to sigh. “Alright, alright,” Effie relented, still grinning. “We’ll go, have us a good time, and if—and that’s a big if—you feel like takin’ a little sip, well… I won’t stop you.” She shrugged carelessly.

Loretta shook her head, exhaling as she placed a hand over her heart. “Lord, what am I getting myself into?” She whispered to herself, glancing up at the ceiling as if she was speaking to the man in the heavens.

Effie squealed, grabbing her friend’s hands and bouncing on her toes. “The best night of our lives, that’s what.” She turned toward the small vanity mirror and gave herself one last look, adjusting her curls and making sure her makeup was correct. Then she twirled around dramatically, striking a pose. “Alright, darling, time to be somebody.”

Loretta still had her doubts, but as she watched Effie’s excitement, she couldn’t help but smile. Maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t a mistake. Maybe La Nuit Rouge would be more than just a place—they’d walk in as two ordinary girls and come out as something bigger. “Let’s go.” She finally said, moving near her door to slip on her shoes.

Effie turned just as Loretta was reaching for her shoes and let out an exaggerated gasp. “Now hold on just a minute, miss girl—what do you think you’re doin’?” She questioned with a dramatically arched brow.

Loretta froze, eyes darting up to her friend. “…Puttin’ on my shoes?” She mumbled as she stood up straight.

“In that?” Effie pointed at Loretta’s plain blouse and skirt like it was an offense to her very being. “Oh, no, ma’am. You are not steppin’ foot in La Nuit Rouge dressed like you just came from grocery shopping with your mama.” She sassed, folding her arms as she looked at the girl.

Loretta shifted with her arms crossed, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Ain’t nobody gonna be lookin’ at me no how.” She shrugged.

Effie clutched her temples dramatically. “Retta, I swear, you ‘bout to make me pass out right here.” She muttered. Then, before Loretta could react, Effie swooped down, grabbed the dress from the foot of the bed, and marched over to her. “You stole it from your mama’s closet for a reason,” Effie insisted, shaking the dress at her. “Now you better put it on before I do it for you.”

Loretta huffed, throwing her head back. “It’s too much.” She whined softly.

“It’s actually not enough, but this is the only thing your mother had.” Effie corrected. “Now put. It. On.” She expressed, slapping the dress into the girls chest.

Loretta bit her lip, hesitating. The dress was simple but beautiful—soft, sleek, a deep blue with delicate trimming. It was a woman’s dress, not something a quiet, stay-at-home girl like her wore. “I don’t know, Effie…” She mumbled.

Effie groaned, then placed her hands on her hips. “You scared?”

Loretta snapped her head up, frowning. “No.” She said firmly.

Effie smirked with a tilt of her head. “Then prove it.”

Loretta glared at her friend for a moment longer before snatching the dress out of her hands with a sharp exhale. “Turn around.” She hissed softly. Effie grinned in victory and spun on her heels, humming to herself as Loretta quickly changed. When she finally turned back around, her eyes went wide.

“Ohhh, Ruby Mae,” Effie breathed, stepping forward and grabbing Loretta’s hands as she eyed the favorite that hugged the woman. “You look so good.” She gushed, smiling at her best friend.

Loretta shifted awkwardly. “You think so?”

“I know so.” Effie grinned before spinning her toward the small mirror on the vanity. “Look at you. A proper lady of the night.” She whispered.

“What?” Loretta’s asked with a scrunched face, snapping her head over to her friend due to her choice of words. Claudette waved the girl off, shaking her head. “Not like that, you know what I mean.”

“I don’t.” Loretta responded before looking back town the mirror. She took in her own reflection and, for the first time, saw someone else staring back. Someone… different.

Maybe even a somebody. Someday.

Effie squeezed her shoulders as she placed her head next to Loretta’s, cheesing at her through the mirror. “Alright now, sugar. Let’s go knock ‘em dead.” She grinned.

And this time, when Loretta slipped on her shoes, she felt a little taller.

➽───────────────❥

The night air was thick with the scent of California jasmine and the lingering warmth of the day’s sun, but the closer they got to La Nuit Rouge, the more the air seemed to shift—thickening with the electricity of possibility.

Claudette, or Effie as she preferred, walked with a pep in her step, practically bouncing as she clung to Loretta’s arm. The streetlights flickered above them, casting a soft glow over their path, but it was nothing compared to the distant haze of La Nuit Rouge glowing like a beacon in the Baldwin Hills night.

Loretta, on the other hand, was tense. She clutched her small purse tightly, glancing around as they approached the alleyway leading to the back entrance. “Are you sure Rodney’s working tonight?” She whispered, wrapping her coat around herself tightly.

Effie scoffed. “Would I have us sneakin’ out just to get turned away? Of course he’s workin’. And if he ain’t, well…” She paused briefly before turning to flash a grin at Loretta. “We’ll figure somethin’ out.” She shrugged.

Loretta wasn’t sure if that was comforting or terrifying. Especially knowing Claudette.

They turned the corner, and there it was—La Nuit Rouge. It wasn’t like the grand, flashy establishments downtown, but it had its own kind of magic. The deep red glow of its sign hummed against the brick, casting long shadows on the pavement. A velvet rope stretched in front of the entrance, guarded by two large men in sharp suits, while clusters of sharply dressed folks whispered and waited for their turn to get in, others sitting around in nice cars, just wanting to see who entered and if they could hear nothing from the inside. The low thrum of a bass leaked from inside, promising music, movement, life.

Effie squeezed Loretta’s arm. “Lord, would you look at it.” She whispered, her voice practically dripping with excitement.

Loretta swallowed, taking in the scene. The men wore fine suits with crisp pocket squares, their shoes shined so well they caught the light. The women dripped elegance—silk and satin hugging their curves, lips painted deep reds and plums.

Effie turned to her, eyes shining. “You ready?” She grinned.

Loretta exhaled. “…No.” She swallowed.

Effie cackled and tugged her forward. “Come on, scaredy cat.” And Loretta had no room to protest.

They approached the door, and sure enough, there was Rodney—tall, lean, and with a smug expression that said he knew he had the power to make or break someone’s night. “Well, well.” He drawled, arms crossed over his suit covered chest they stepped up. “Look who snuck out the house.” He smirked, leaned against the stair railing.

“Boy, hush,” Effie said, rolling her eyes. “You lettin’ us in or not?” She asked.

Rodney eyed them both, his gaze lingering on Loretta, who suddenly felt like shrinking. “Didn’t think you had it in you, little Loretta.” He teased, but there was something close to approval in his tone, and admiration as his eyes drifted over her covered figure.

Loretta avoided his eyes but straightened her shoulders. “Well, I do.” She said with a small nod.

Rodney chuckled, then stepped aside, unhooking the rope. “Don’t cause no trouble.” He said. “And don’t tell your folks.

Effie grinned, pulling Loretta through the entrance. “Of, you know that won’t be happening.” She as they passed him.

The moment they stepped inside, it hit them. The scent of whiskey and perfume, the smoke curling toward the ceiling, the sound of laughter and music weaving together in a melody of indulgence. The air was alive.

A jazz band played on a stage in the corner, the pianist’s fingers dancing over the keys while the trumpet wailed. The dance floor was filled with couples moving in sync, bodies swaying, spinning, sweating. Waitresses in form-fitting dresses weaved through the crowd with trays of drinks, their heels clicking against the floor. And at the bar, men sat with their hats tipped low, speaking in hushed voices or watching the scene unfold before them.

Effie let out a low whistle. “Lord have mercy.”

Loretta, a little overwhelmed, just stood there, drinking it all in. Effie then squeezed her hand with her signature large smile. “Welcome to La Nuit Rouge, sugar.” She said. And welcomes they were, because La Nuit Rouge was alive. The walls of the club seemed to pulse with energy, the air thick with the scent of perfume, whiskey, and the lingering wisp of cigarette smoke. The smooth, rolling rhythm of live jive music filled the space, but it was the voice on the stage that commanded the room.

On the other side of the club, a man with neatly waved hair crooned into the microphone, his voice dripping with raw emotion as he belted out Please, Please, Please by James Brown.

“I love you… I love you so…”

His voice dripped with emotion, his body swaying as if the weight of the words physically pulled at him. A deep crease settled between his brows, eyes squeezed shut as he reached into the depths of his soul.

“I love you… Honey, I love you so…”

He clutched the mic stand as if it were the only thing keeping him tethered to this world, his body moving in time with the music—hips rolling, shoulders jerking, sweat beading at his brow as he poured his soul into every note.

The crowd near the stage was utterly entranced. Women leaned forward with wide, hungry eyes, hands clutched over their hearts or pressed against their flushed cheeks. Men either watched in admiration or attempted to match his effortless charm, pulling their dance partners in close, moving to the deep, yearning rhythm of his voice.

Loretta had never seen anything like it. She was rooted in place, staring, unable to look away from the spectacle before her. The way he moved—commanding and uninhibited—made something curl tight in her stomach. She wasn’t sure if it was excitement or nerves.

“I’ll take your coats.” Rodney spoke up behind them. Effie made quick work to shuffle the thick fabric down her shoulders while Loretta reluctantly came up out of hers. She handed her black coat on her go him, while Rodney eyed her figure in the navy blue dress. “Wow, Loretta, you look nice.” He said, looking up at the girls face. Loretta glanced him a small smile, meeting his eyes. “Thank you, Rodney. Means a lot.” She said softly.

“No problem, dew drop.” He smirked down at her, loving her shy nature. His eyes then drifted over to Claudette, who eyed him at his unsubtle flirting with her homegirl. “And you look aight, Effie.” He mumbled, taking her cat from her hands and walking away before the gaping girl could say anything.

“Rude!” Effie called out after him. She then turned back to Loretta, whose eyes drifted back to the stage behind the gyrating crowd. “Come on,” Effie murmured, pulling the girl toward the bar. And Loretta let herself be led as her gaze lingered on the man on stage, her heart pounding in her chest, her fingers tightening around her purse strap.

Effie approached the bar with her usual confidence, slipping into a seat like she belonged there. The counter was polished to a gleam, reflecting the dim glow of the overhead lights. Behind it, a tall, light-skinned man stood wiping out a glass, his ginger hair catching the warm light. His face was sharp, freckled, and partially obscured by the glasses perched on his nose.

“Two whiskey sours, please,” Effie said smoothly, resting her arms on the counter as she gazed up at him. The man—Pierre, judging by the neatly printed name tag on his vest—pushed his glasses up with one finger and looked at her with a blank expression.

“ID, please,” He said.

Effie scoffed softly, almost like a humorless chuckle. “Really? You need my ID? I got in, didn’t I?” She asked, attempting to play it cool, but something about the way he looked at her made it clear—he saw right through her.

He blinked, unimpressed. “ID?” He repeated, his voice as flat as his expression. Effie rolled her eyes, shifting in her seat. “I don’t have my ID.” She admitted, crossing her arms.

Aaron hummed, nodding to himself as he wiped down another glass. “How old are you?” He asked, his tone still unreadable, like he was conducting an interrogation rather than a casual conversation, his eye not even on her.

Effie sighed. “I’m twenty, okay? Only a year off.” She stated defensively.

Aaron gave another slow, noncommittal hum before stiffly nodding. “So no drink.” He said, not even glancing her way before he turned to place the tray of glasses on the shelf behind him.

Effie let out a short laugh, tilting her head as she gave him a once-over. She hadn’t really looked at him before, but now that she did, she took in the details—the lean but solid frame beneath his heavy coat, the sharp angles of his jaw, the serious way he carried himself. It struck her as odd that he was wearing such a thick coat indoors, especially if he was tending bar, but maybe he had just come in.

Her eyes flicked back up to his face when he turned around, catching the faint glint of his glasses in the low light. “You’re not gonna kick me out?” She asked, though a bit hesitantly, raising an eyebrow.

He finally met her gaze, setting a glass down and resting his hands on the counter. “Like you said,”He murmured. “Only a year off.”

Effie smirked at that. Oh, I like you,” she grinned, poring at him. He simply blinked at her, then simply went back to cleaning the glass cups before him.

Loretta, meanwhile, was still entirely fixated on the performance happening just across the room as she took her place at the bar my Claudette. The singer had dropped to his knees now, his voice cracking with desperation, his hands gripping the hem of his shirt as if he might tear it right off his body. “Who is that?” She asked out loud. The man at the bar next to her glanced over, his eyes running over her figure as he sipped at his brown liquor. “That’s King.” He said, and Loretta’s eyes snapped over to him at his close voice over the loud music. “Huh?” She asked, it knowing that she asked the question aloud.

“That’s King Harrison. Best thing to come out of New Orleans song gumbo!” He grinned before downing the rest of the straight liquor and then slamming the glass on the counter. Pierre’s head snapped over to him, his face stoic as he eyed the man. “I done told you bout slamming the glasses, Henry. One more time and you’re out of here.” His deep baritone stated, causing the older man to grumble. Loretta jumped at the sound, blinking at the man that she could now see was obviously tipsy. Her eyes then made their way back to the man on stage. “He’s…something.” She mumbled.

King, as they call him, let out a ragged breath, opening his eyes and dragging a hand through his dampened waves. His white dress shirt clung to his body, a thin sheen of sweat making it shimmer under the dim, golden lights. He stepped forward, gripping the mic stand with both hands, his knuckles turning white as his voice cracked with desperation.

“I’m begging you, please… Please don’t go…”

He dropped to one knee, the intensity in his voice making the women in the crowd clutch their chests. Some of them reached toward him as if they could hold him together with their hands alone.

“Please, please, don’t go!”

His head tilted back, neck taut as he let the words bleed out of him. The deep tremble in his voice, the rasp at the edges—it all sent shivers through the room.

Loretta had never seen anything like it.

She was rooted in place, staring, unable to look away from the spectacle before her. The way he moved—commanding and uninhibited—made something curl tight in her stomach. She wasn’t sure if it was excitement or nerves.

Kelvin was moving again, dragging himself up from his knees, his chest rising and falling with each breath. His fingers curled around the microphone as he stared out at the audience, his gaze heated, lips still parted as the last note trembled in the air.

“I need you… I need you so…”

His voice was softer now, full of longing, drawing the crowd even closer. The crowd was eating it up.

Loretta swallowed hard.

She was snapped out of her thoughts when Effie nudged her. “Girl, you’re starin’.” She mumbled into Loretta’s ear. Loretta blinked rapidly, finally tearing her eyes away to look at her friend. “I—” She started, but her words died on her tongue when she realized something.

The man on stage was looking right at her.

Her breath hitched as she made eye contact with him. Even with the haze of cigarette smoke and the shifting, swaying bodies between them, she could feel his gaze settle on her like a warm, slow drag of honey. She gulped before the drunk man next to her began speaking again.

“King’s got the city in a chokehold. Women want him. Men wanna be him.” He stated. Loretta glanced at the man—he was older, maybe mid-thirties, dressed sharp but relaxed, the kind of man who had seen a few things and come out wiser for it. He tipped his glass toward the stage. “He came outta nowhere, you know. Used to just be some country bumpkin kid runnin’ deliveries for the elderly. Then one day, Cisco gave him the opportunity to step on stage, and bam—King was born.” He explained.

Loretta’s brows lifted in surprise. “Just like that?”

The man nodded, smirking. “Just like that.”

Effie leaned in, having caught the conversation. “So, what’s the deal with him?” She asked, her eyes bright with curiosity. “He got a girl?” She asked with a quirked brow.

Henry snorted, swirling his drink. “If he does, she’s got the patience of a saint, ‘cause that man don’t belong to nobody but the music…and any woman he wants.”

Sounds like trouble.” Effie grinned before nudging Loretta. “Some trouble you should get into.” She smirked at her friend. Loretta rolled her eyes but felt warmth creep up her neck. “Oh, hush.” She hissed at her before looking back at the stage. But just as she did, his eyes landed on her.

His grip on the microphone loosened as he leaned in, tilting his head just slightly, as if he were considering her. She wasn’t sure if she was imagining it. Maybe it was the thrill of being somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be, the way the music wrapped around her, the heady energy of La Nuit Rouge—but it felt like something inside of her had been plucked like a guitar string, left vibrating.

He licked his plump lips, drawing the mic close once more. His voice was velvet and fire, dipping into the final pleading notes of the song.

“I want you so, I just want to be your man…”

It was only a second—maybe less—but Loretta felt it like a slow drag of a matchstick against its box. A spark. A flicker of heat that curled in her stomach, making her fingers twitch against the bar. King’s lips parted slightly, as if he, too, felt the moment hit. Then, just as quickly, he was back in the music, closing his eyes as he let the final note of the song spill from his lips, rich and aching. The crowd erupted in cheers and whistles, some of the women practically melting against their partners as they swayed to the last few notes. He flashed them a slow, knowing grin, letting the mic dangle from his fingertips before handing it off to the house band.

And just like that, the spell was broken. Loretta blinked, remembering how tot think all of a sudden.

Effie, who was watching her, eyebrows raised with amusement. “Oh, honey,” She teased. “You are in trouble. That man just sang to you.” She grinned, nudging Loretta.

“He most certainly did not,” Loretta instantly shot back, though her voice betrayed her nerves. “Don’t say such a thing, Effie.” She said, giving her best friend a small shove.

Effie smirked, clearly enjoying herself. “He did, Ruby Mae! And he looked at you while he did it. And look at you, you’re all flushed.” The woman gushed, bringing her hand up to Loretta’s face. Loretta swatted her hand away before she pressed a hand to her cheek, feeling the warmth there. She shook her head. “I’m always flushed. And it was just a performance.”

Effie snorted. “Mm-hmm. We’ll see about that.”

Before Loretta could argue, a sudden shift in the room caught their attention. King had stepped off the stage, his presence causing a ripple through the crowd as he made his way toward the bar. People patted him on the back, some women grabbed at his hands and anything else they could get their hands on, but he maneuvered through them with ease, flashing grins and winks as he went.

Loretta stiffened and Effie, of course, was delighted.

The moment he got close enough, Effie turned to the bar and rapped her knuckles on the counter. “Two drinks after all, bartender.” She said smugly as she smirked up at the good looking ginger man. “Our friend here owes my girl a word or two.” She said before nodding over to the man that walked up to them.

Pierre simply raised an eyebrow at her, unmoved. “I’m not a bartender.” He stated flatly as his eyes drifted to King as he walked up. Effie’s face fell as she looked at the man, dropping her shoulders. “Then why are you being the bar?” She questioned. “Cleaning cups?” She continued, but before the small situation could be solved, King was next to Loretta.

He came to a stop beside them, close enough that Loretta could smell the faint trace of his cologne beneath the sweat from his performance that he was wiping away with a rag. His presence was magnetic, and even though she told herself she wouldn’t look at him, she couldn’t help it. His smile was easy, teasing, but there was something behind it—an interest, a curiosity. He tilted his head slightly, gaze flickering over her face as if committing it to memory.

“Hi.” He smirked.

“Hi.” Loretta said softly.

“The names King.” He said smoothly as he reached for her hand and gently took it into his own. “But you, my doe eyed beauty, can call me Kelvin.” He said before bringing her hand to his lips and placing a soft against her skin. Loretta gulped at the feeling of his plump lips against her, but tried her best not to freak out. She gulped again when his eyes raised, looking up at her through his lashes. “Well, Kelvin, my names Loretta.” She said softly. “Loretta Mae Greer, but my friend here calls me Ruby Mae.” She nervously explained, softly pulling her hand way from his grip and getting over to Effie.

Claudette flashed the man a small smile, ignoring her best friend’s usual nervous nature. Kelvin let out a small laugh at Loretta before he gave a polite smile to woman behind her.

“Well, did you enjoy the show, Loretta Mae Greer?” he asked, his voice smooth as whiskey as he leaned against the counter in available space next to her, and his movements made the woman realize that the drunk man, Henry, was now gone.

She blocked at that before her eyes connect with the awaiting ones of Kelvin. Her fingers tightened around the strap of her purse. She should say something—anything—but her tongue felt stuck.

Effie nudged her, and that was all the push she needed.

She licked her lips before she straightened her spine, meeting his eyes head-on. “I suppose it was alright.” She said with a subtle nod, hoping she sounded more composed than she felt. Kelvin let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Just alright?”

“I’ve never seen anyone move around so much while singing.” She admitted, lifting her chin slightly. “Must take..a lot of energy.” She stated, inwardly cringing at how awkward she sounded. But he grinned, flashing white teeth. “You saying I worked too hard up there?” He asked with a tilt of his head.

Loretta shrugged, her eyes taking a break from his stare as they moved around the club that was still live as ever. “I’m saying I’ve seen less dramatic performances at the church revival.” She stated.

Effie let out a choked laugh, stopping up on the water Pierre had given her, but Kelvin only looked more amused. “Oh, is that right?”

Loretta nodded, feigning innocence. “Mm-hmm.”

Kelvin tapped his fingers against the counter, considering her as his eyes drifted over her figure and his tongue poked at his cheek. Then, to her absolute shock, he reached out, taking her hand in his. “Well, if I worked too hard up there.”He murmured, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down her spine, “Maybe you oughta give me a reason to take it slow.”

Loretta’s breath caught in her throat and her eyes widen slightly while Effie’s grin could not have been wider.

Pierre, completely unfazed, simply placed a glass of water in front of her. “Hydrate.” He said flatly and Kelvin threw his head back and laughed. “Come on, Aaron. Again?” He asked, but Aaron just gave him a look. “Quit preying in the customers. We have a business to run.” He said.

“I’m not preying.” Kelvin stated before his eye made their way back to Loretta, who was eyeing the talking men. “I’m promising this lovely lady a wonderful night.” He smirked. And that was all it took for Loretta’s face to quickly morph into one of disgust. She scoffed as she turns her lip up at him and snatched her hand from his grasp. “I am not some floozy, lady of the night, that you can just walk up to and seduce, Mister.” She hissed, before looking the man up and down. “Next time, have some self respect for you and me.” She spat before clutching her purse and shocks past him.

Kelvin blinked, momentarily stunned, as Loretta stormed past him. His smirk faltered, but only for a second before it curved into something even more intrigued. He let out a low whistle, watching her retreating form as she wove through the crowd, her posture rigid with irritation. “Damn,” He muttered under his breath, running a hand over his jaw.

Effie, meanwhile, was completely shocked, mouth agape as she looked at the man. “Oh my! I am so sorry about that.” She apologized as she stood up from her seat and stepping over to the man. “I have never seen her act that way before. She’s a real shy girl.” She reassured.

Pierre—the now calm, steady Aaron—simply grabbed another glass from behind the counter, shaking his head. “That’s what you get.” He said dryly. “I told you to quit preying on the customers.”

Kelvin let out an incredulous laugh, running a hand through his hair before placing both hands on his hips. “Preying? Come on now, Aaron, you act like I’m out here breakin’ hearts for sport.”

Aaron stopped what he was doing and gave him a flat look.

That caused Kelvin to sigh dramatically, throwing up his hands. “Alright, fine. But you gotta admit—she’s something else.” His gaze flickered toward the crowd Loretta had disappeared through. “I don’t think I’ve ever been turned down quite like that before.” He muttered. “Or ever this turned on.” He mucked to himself. His grin then widened, a spark of mischief dancing in his eyes. “Now,” He said, drumming his fingers against the bar, “that only makes me wanna try harder.”

Aaron exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Try harder to leave her alone.” He stated. But Kelvin ignored him, eyes still fixed on the crowd, looking for the rebound bow in the sea of black bodies dancing to the music. “She’s got fire.”He murmured, more to himself than anyone else. Then he glanced at Effie. “What do I gotta do to get back in her good graces?”

Effie, still gaping at her friend’s outburst, blinked before snapping back into reality. “Oh, I dunno. Maybe start by not treating her like every other woman who throws themselves at you?” She suggested sarcastically:

Kelvin scoffed, pressing a hand to his chest in mock offense. “I do have manners, you know.”

“Not the ones she’s looking for,” Aaron and Effie stated at the same time, causing the pair to eye one another.

Kelvin shot them a look before turning back to Effie. “Come on, help a brotha out here.”

Effie crossed her arms, tapping her foot as if in deep thought. “Hmm… well, Loretta does love a man who can admit when he’s wrong.” She said.

Kelvin raised a brow. “I wasn’t wrong.” He blinked.

Effie face slowly morphed into the same look Loretta gave him, which caused Kelvin sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Fine. I was wrong, I can admit that. I don’t approach her like a gentleman should. I’ll apologize.” He stated, though none of the three knew if he was genuine or not. Effie just shook her head. “Lord, you’re gonna have to work real hard for this one.” She said before grabbing her cloth and finally walking off to find her friend.

Kelvin simply grinned, already planning his next move. “Good. I like a challenge.”

@kneelarmhstrung @winorlosetogether @joshuafatubaee

@becauseimswagman1 @nubiagurlll @gwenda-fav

@susanhill @slvt4her @cryotrain @fakxmbj

@wayytoocooll @brattyfics @brownskin-bratz @alonahh

@jazziejax @jazzieinthefuture @blkandchic @notapradagurl7 @playgurlxoxo @planetblaque

@urfavblackbimbo @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @blackerthings @araybiaaa @kindofaintrovert @theglamclosetsl @nun0ir @theogbadbitch @disc0fairy @keyaho @zillasvilla @moooonluvr @arronpierresprincess @aye-lloo @melaninhawtie @

[waitimcomingtoo]

One For Us

Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader

Synopsis: Peeta gets upset when you suggest getting married to appease the Capitol

Masterlist

“We could get married.”

Everyone stopped debating strategies for getting President Snow to believe your love story and looked up at you upon your suggestion. You felt self conscious with all the eyes on you so you looked to Peeta for help. You thought he’d agree with you but he was just staring at you with an almost hurt expression.

“What?” He asked you in a quiet voice.

“You said we’re gonna be on this train forever anyway, right? We’d have to get married eventually. We might as well do it right now to convince Snow how in love we are. We could make a huge deal of the proposal and the dress and cake. Don’t Capital people love all that kind of stuff?” You asked Haymitch.

“She’s right.” Haymitch agreed. “A wedding between the star crossed winners might be the one thing in more demand than the games. If we spin a story about the wedding being canceled due to the games, maybe the outrage would be enough to get the Capitol to change their minds about sending you two back in there.”

“Yeah. And we could go on Cesar’s show and say that we were so in love that we couldn’t wait any longer and had to get engaged. We can make a whole big thing of it. That should be enough to convince Snow that we’re in love, right?” You asked. Peeta blinked a few times and let out a short dry laugh.

“Fine. I don’t care. Let’s just do it.” Peeta sighed as he got up to leave. You frowned and watched him walk about without giving you so much as a glance in your direction. You looked at Haymitch and Effie and held up your hands with confusion.

“What’s his problem?”

“He’s probably just sore that he wasn’t the one who came up with the brilliant idea.” Haymitch replied and gave you a proud pat on the back.

“Oh my goodness. You fools.” Effie huffed and shook her head. “That’s not why he’s upset.”

“Then why? I’m just trying to help. It’s not like he came up with anything.” You said and folded your arms like a child out of annoyance over Peeta’s disapproval of your idea.

“He’s upset because this is not how he wanted this to happen.” Effie said as she looked at only you.

“So the idea of marrying me is so awful to him that he had to storm out of the room?” You grumbled.

“No, child. He’s not upset that he has to marry you. He’s upset that it’s only counterfeit.” Effie explained with a tight smile. You stopped being angry with Peeta and took a moment to process what she was saying.

“I’m gonna go talk to him.” You decided and got up to follow him. You found Peeta in the back of the train, staring out the window with his chin in his hand.

“Hey.” You said quietly as you sat down near him.

“Hi.” Peeta replied without taking his eyes off the window.

“I’m sorry about that back there. I should’ve talked to you before telling Haymitch about getting married. I didn’t think it would upset you.”

“It’s okay.” He said quietly. “It’s a great idea.”

“You hate it.” You laughed nervously and wished he’d look at you. A smile tugged on Peeta’s lips and he nodded his head.

“Yeah.” He admitted. “I do.”

“But why? Why do you not want to get married?” You asked. Peeta stayed silent and turned his head so that you couldn’t see his face. You got up to sit beside him and put your hand in his leg to silently comfort him until he was able to speak. He looked down at your hand before looking up and wiping his face with his sleeve.

“I do want to get married. I always have.” He admitted. “I always wanted to find a girl that I love and could be genuine companions with. And to not just get married because it was convenient or beneficial to us both, but because we were best friends and wanted to be with each other forever. So we’d take vows to promise each other that. And then have a big family and live a quiet but happy life.”

“Oh. I see. Marrying me would prevent you from finding her.” You nodded in understanding. It stung you a little to hear him talk about the life he dreamed of with someone else but you couldn’t place why you felt that way. Peeta finally turned his head to look at you and had a sad smile on his face.

“What?” You wondered.

“You know, when I was little, I always saw myself marrying you.” He admitted.

“You…you did?” You asked with a surprised smile.

“I did.” He nodded. “I liked you from the very first time I saw you. So I went home and told my mom I was gonna marry you. I was only six.”

“What’d she say?”

“She asked if you were the coal miners girl and I said yes. Then she told me she almost married your dad.”

“What? My dad?” You were taken aback and pointed to yourself.

“Yeah. He gave her a ring and everything. But it didn’t work out. I don’t remember why. Then she told me she hopes I don’t have the same fate as she did.” He said with a dry laugh.

“That’s too bad for them. But I think it’s cute you had a schoolboy crush on me.” You told him, making his cheeks adorn with a rosy glow.

“Trust me. It was more than a schoolboy crush. You had a hold on me for years. I had this whole plan to ask you to marry me after high school. I was gonna propose that we start a business together. I could sell my bread and you could sell game. I was going to get us a cow and chickens so we could save money on supplies. And we could build a house near the forest so you don’t have to travel far when you went to hunt. We’d be poor but we’d be happy. I was gonna tell you all of that when I proposed, by the way.”

“That’s a really good plan, Peeta. I had no idea you thought that all through.” You smiled softly as a sadness weighed on your chest. He had all these plans that would never be realized because of the cards he had been dealt. His sweet fantasy of a wholesome future together was going to be replaced with fake weddings and bloodshed.

“Yeah, I did. I really though it would happen too. That’s why I stormed out earlier. You suggested we get married and just sounded so cavalier. Like, it was just one more thing we could do to please Snow. And I guess it made me think of my plans for the future and how I was never going to get any of them. So I got upset. It wasn’t anything against you.” He assured you with a sad smile.

“I understand. I just thought you didn’t want to marry me. I didn’t know you had all those plans. I’m sorry they won’t be happening.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry too. You and I got reaped just a few months before I was gonna ask you. And I haven’t recognized my life since then. But before all of this, I really thought it was gonna happen. Given that you said yes, of course. I even told my mother about my plan. She gave me this.” Peeta said and pulled necklace out from underneath his shirt. On a leather cord was a dainty silver diamond ring.

“Oh my gosh, Peeta. t’s beautiful.” You gasped and leaned forward to gently touch it with your fingertips. Peeta gulped at how close you were and felt his face heat up again.

“Your dad gave it to her.” He told you. “He found that diamond himself when he was working.”

“I can’t believe she kept it all these years. She could’ve made a fortune with this.”

“That’s what I said. But she said it was worth more than any amount they could offer her.”

“She sounds like a romantic. I see where you get it from.” You laughed softly and nudged him a little.

“Yeah. I’m a lot like her.”He said with a timid smile as he looked into your eyes. You stared at each other for a moment and you felt an ache in your bones for him. He was still so kind and gentle despite what you’d gone through together and the impending doom that loomed over your heads. He still wore the diamond ring his mom gave him and credited his kindness to her. Your mind began to picture the future Peeta had painted for you and you felt homesick for a place you’d never been to. You wished you could jump from the train and go live the life he described, but that could never happen.

“I wish we didn’t end up here.” You said in a quiet voice. You feared that if you spoke any louder, you’d burst into tears.

“I know. Me too. I wish things were different. I wish that I was asking you to marry me because I decided it was time. And I wish…” He trailed off as he started to get emotional at the thought of the life he would never have.

“You wish what?” You asked calmly and rubbed his arm to comfort him.

“I wish I knew you were saying yes because you meant it.” He admitted. “Not because you have to.”

You were both quiet for a while after that confession. A silence that wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable, just very heavy, sat among you as you looked in opposite directions.

“I would’ve said yes.” You said after a beat.

“What?”

“If you had asked me. After high school. And told me about the cows and chickens and business. I would have told you yes.” You explained with a timid smile. Peeta stared at you for a minute to see if you were joking or not.

“No you wouldn’t have. You didn’t even know me back then.” He laughed dismissively.

“Yes I did. I knew you were kind and strong and hardworking. And now that I know you better, I know that you’re funny and resilient and thoughtful and kinda grumpy before you’ve had tea in the morning and not the worst to look at. What more could I ask for?”

“Not the worst to look at?” He cracked a smile.

“Come on. You know you’re handsome. Don’t make me say.” You rolled your eyes and he blushed once again.

“I would not use that word to describe myself. Especially not with Finnick running around.” He mumbled.

“Well I happen to think you’re very handsome. And the wife is always right. You need to know that if we’re going to get married. So shut up.” You said and playfully smacked his leg.

“Don’t tell me to shut up or else you’re not getting a ring.” Peeta played along.

“Oh, I’m getting that ring.” You insisted. “And I get to name all the cows. You can do what you want with the chicken but the cows are mine. And I’m giving them last names too. Fancy ones.”

You and Peeta both laughed at the dumb joke and you felt yourself relax. Even if your lives weren’t going to go the way you’d hoped, at least you could look forward to these moments of sweetness with him.

“Would you really have said yes?” Peeta asked in a small voice once your laughter died down.

“It depends. How would you have asked me?”

“I had a plan for that too, actually. I was going to pick you a bouquet of wild flowers. The ones that grow by the river bank. I know you like those.”

“I do like those. The orange and purple ones.”

“Yeah. Those.” He smiled. “I was gonna bring them to you and then get down on one knee. Like this.”

“That’s very old fashioned of you.” You couldn’t help but blush as Peeta got down on one knee in front of you.

“I know. But that’s all I know how to be. An old fashioned romantic. I even practiced how to get the ring out with one hand.” Peeta said as he struggled to get the ring from around his neck.

“You didn’t practice very hard.” You teased.

“Shh. Yes I did. I’m just nervous.” He laughed and finally got the ring free.

“Don’t be.” You told him. “It’s just you and me.”

“I was gonna explain how I got the ring. But I already told you that so pretend I was proposing then.” He said and waved his hand, making you laugh.

“Okay. I will. Oh, wow. My father’s ring? That he gave to your mother? Meaning we were almost siblings? How romantic.” You dramatically played along to humor him.

“Hush now. I’m trying to remember my plan. Then I was gonna tell you…” He trailed off again and a sheepish smile broke through on his face. You could see him losing his confidence but didn’t want him to stop.

“Tell me what?” You asked quietly and took his hand.

“I was going to say that you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. And that I’ve seen a million sunsets since bakers have to get up before dawn but not one of them could compare to you. I would’ve said that you enchanted me from the first day I saw you and every day since. And that to know you is to be in awe of you. I would have told you that you were the strongest person I know and if you’d let me, I’d help you bear some of the weight you have on your shoulders.”

“Keep going.” You whispered and held his hand to your chest.

“Oh, okay, um. I was gonna tell you that I know you don’t love me yet but you could learn to. And that I would make it easy for you. I would promise to be the best partner you could ask for and to love you at every turn, no matter what gets thrown our way. I’d promise to wash your hair in the sink the way your mama does and build you a desk so that you can write letters to your family. And then I’d ask you to make me the happiest man alive and please-“

“Yes.” You cut him off as a single tear slipped down your face.

“Yes?”

“Yes.” You repeated. “I will marry you.”

“You will?” He smiled in disbelief as his eyes searched yours for signs of insincerity.

“I will. I want to. I’d love to. I love…” You trailed off and he sucked in a sharp breath in anticipation of what you were about to say.

“I love you.” You said finally. “And if I’m on this train forever, at least I have you with me. That means it’s going to be okay.”

“I love you too.” Peeta smiled at those long awaited words hitting his ears. You pulled him into a long kiss despite no cameras being around. But you both knew this moment wasn’t for the cameras. It was just for the two of you. When you pulled away, Peeta fumbled around with the ring.

“Sorry. My hands are shaking.” He was embarrassed to admit as he tried to steady them long enough to untie the chord around the ring.

“It’s okay. Take your time.” You assured him and he eventually slipped the leather chord off. He looked you in the eyes for one last confirmation and you nodded enthusiastically. With that, Peeta slid the song onto your finger and then leaned down to kiss your knuckles. You laughed at the gesture before cupping his face and bringing him into a kiss. Peeta got off his knee but never broke the kiss. A sudden knock at the door made you jump apart. Peeta sat on the opposite end of the couch while you smoothed your hair and wiped your face.

“Come in.” You called out and Haymitch walked in.

“Hey. I just wanted to check in on you guys after our conversation back there.” He said.

“We’re fine. We were just talking about the engagement. Peeta said we could go on Cesar’s show and he could propose then.” You lied to Haymitch with a smile.

“All right. Works for me. I’ll let Effie know.” Haymitch gave you a thumbs up and then left the room. When he was gone, Peeta looked at you curiously to see why you lied.

“We still have to fake one for the Capital, but this I’ll remember this as our real engagement.” You explained, making him smile fondly.

“One for us, one for them.” He replied and you nodded in agreement.

“Yeah. One for us, one for them.”

Tag list 🏷️

@ilovetoomanymen @kittimbo @sipsthecoffee @ohmyhuenings @ilykitwalker

@mayemperess @scenesofobx

@basicb1tchboy @planetevermore @bellasfavbisexual @kochothehoe

[katkitexpressoone]

“Banks revealed that Effie and Haymitch's kiss was intended to demonstrate the pair's "deep connection." Banks also described the kiss as a culmination of their "long shared history." After reading the book, what she said in the interview makes so much sense! I see people saying now after reading the book "that it's forced" or that "Haymitch would never do that" but they are forgetting that the great story/connection that these two characters have with each other, whether romantic or not, was always established and no one can deny that. And that being present in the film for me only solidified it.

[cece693]

It Should've Been Me (Peeta Mellark x Male! Reader)

I don't know why there isn't much male reader fanfics for the Hunger Games, but I aim to change that. Especially when there are interesting characters such as Finnick and Johanna, but I'm playing it safe and beginning with Peeta.

Summary: M/N Evergreen didn't feel like a victor, especially when it cost the life of his sister, Katniss. Forced to wear a smile and continue living life as 'normal', the only person who seems to recognize his brokeness is the boy with the bread, Peeta Mellark.

M/N Evergreen didn’t feel like a victor, not when winning cost the life of his sister, Katniss. It was supposed to be her. She was the one with the spark, the one who inspired others to believe in something more. But now she was gone, and all that was left was him—a hollow reminder of what should have been. He knew he should be grateful; the Capitol's train pulling into District 12 meant he got to come home. But what kind of home was it when the only person who ever made it feel that way was dead?

Effie Trinket’s voice was a distant hum, urging him to “put on a happy face, darling.” Smile for the cameras, for the sponsors, for the charade of a victory tour that awaited him. He didn’t smile. He didn’t move. Even if he forced the corners of his lips upward, the emptiness in his eyes would betray him. The train doors slid open, and all he could do was stare blankly as the frigid air of District 12 rushed in, filling his lungs with the sharp scent of coal dust. The lenses of dozens of cameras zoomed in, capturing the haunted look that had become a permanent fixture on his face.

He heard Effie clear her throat nervously as she stepped out ahead of him, trying to drum up some semblance of a greeting from the sullen crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, our victor, M/N Everdeen!” Her voice rang out with all the bubbly enthusiasm she could muster, but the words fell flat.

As the Capitol’s cameras continued to click and whir, M/N forced himself to walk through the motions of the victor’s return. He let Effie guide him onto the stage, his limbs moving mechanically, as though they belonged to someone else. He could hear the rehearsed speech forming on her lips, filled with empty praise and hollow encouragement. He heard his own voice, flat and monotone, echo her words when prompted, thanking the Capitol for its generosity and the people of District 12 for their support.

But the truth was, he didn’t feel like a victor, and he never would. He was just another casualty of the Hunger Games—only, he happened to still be breathing.

The days passed in a blur for M/N Everdeen, though he barely noticed the shift from one to the next. Returning to District 12 should have felt like a relief—home, where things were familiar. But the place seemed alien to him now, like he was wandering through a ghost town where all the buildings and people were merely pale shadows of what they once were. Even the Seam, which always bustled with life despite its poverty, felt quieter, as if the town itself was grieving. Maybe it was.

At home, his mother had returned to the land of the living, as much as she could. She moved around the house with a new purpose, cooking and cleaning with a mechanical precision that betrayed the emptiness in her eyes. M/N knew it wasn’t for him; it was for Prim. Their mother clung to her youngest, constantly checking on her and making sure she ate, slept, and stayed warm. M/N could see her fighting against the hollowness, desperately trying to appear whole for Prim’s sake. For him, too, though he wasn’t sure why she bothered.

M/N hadn’t eaten since he stepped off the train. Every meal placed in front of him felt like an insult to Katniss’s memory—he shouldn’t get to eat, shouldn’t get to live while she was gone. His mother and Prim had seemed to silently agree on a pact not to let him waste away, though. If he refused breakfast, his mother would leave it on the table for him to find later. If he tried to hide in his room during dinner, Prim would seek him out, dragging him to the kitchen. They were relentless in their quiet determination to keep him alive.

Today, he couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to get out, to escape the house where Katniss’s absence hung like a shroud over everything. He slipped out the back door and walked toward the edge of the district, to the fence that separated District 12 from the woods. It was supposed to be electrified, but the power rarely ran this far out, and he easily found a gap to slip through. The forest beckoned to him, promising solitude and silence—two things he desperately craved. For a few moments, he felt the faintest hint of peace as he wandered deeper into the trees, letting the thick canopy above dim the harsh sunlight.

But he wasn’t alone for long.

“M/N.” a voice called softly from behind him.

He froze, recognizing the voice before he even turned around. Peeta Mellark was standing there, a few paces back, watching him with that same quiet intensity he’d had since the day M/N returned. He wasn’t smiling, wasn’t wearing that charming expression he often showed in public. Instead, his face was open, unguarded, as though he’d stripped away all pretense.

“What are you doing here?” M/N asked, his voice raw from disuse.

Peeta stepped closer, careful not to startle him, as if M/N were a wounded animal. “I saw you come out here,” he replied. “I was worried.”

M/N let out a bitter laugh. “You shouldn’t be,” he muttered, turning his gaze back to the forest. “If I don’t come back, I’m sure everyone would understand.”

“Don’t say that,” Peeta said sharply, the sudden firmness in his voice cutting through the quiet. “You don’t get to give up. Not after everything…”

“Everything?” M/N scoffed, spinning to face him. “What did I survive for, Peeta? There’s no victory here. I’m alive, but she’s gone. And now I have to pretend like any of this is okay?”

“You survived because Katniss wanted you to,” Peeta said, stepping closer again. “She fought for you—”

“I don’t need a lecture about my own sister,” M/N interrupted, his voice rising. “You don’t know what it was like! You weren’t there! I should have protected her, but I couldn’t even do that. All I could do was… was watch as she—” His voice broke, the words dissolving into a choked sob.

He turned away from Peeta, trembling as his chest tightened painfully. He had spent every waking moment since returning home forcing himself not to break, swallowing back his grief until it clawed at his throat, but now it surged forward like a flood. He didn’t know how to stop it.

“It's not your fault,” Peeta’s voice was gentle, and when M/N felt a hand on his shoulder, he flinched but didn’t pull away. “You did everything you could.”

M/N shook his head, tears streaming down his face. “It wasn’t enough,” he whispered. “It’ll never be enough. She’s gone because of me.”

Peeta’s arms wrapped around him, pulling him in close. M/N’s legs buckled, and he collapsed into Peeta’s embrace, his sobs breaking free in jagged gasps. Peeta held him tightly, steadying him as he sank to the forest floor. He murmured soothing words, though M/N couldn’t make out the exact phrases—only that there was a calm, reassuring rhythm in the sound of Peeta’s voice.

For a long while, M/N cried in Peeta’s arms, clutching at his shirt as if afraid to let go. It wasn’t fair, not to Peeta, not to anyone, to have to bear the weight of his grief like this. But Peeta stayed, anchoring him through the storm of emotion until, at last, M/N’s sobs quieted, leaving him drained and hollow.

When he finally pulled back, Peeta’s shirt was soaked with tears, but he didn’t seem to mind. He looked down at M/N with an expression so full of understanding it hurt. “You’re not alone, you know,” he said softly. “You don’t have to go through this by yourself.”

M/N shook his head, his voice barely a whisper. “I don’t know how to keep going.”

Peeta’s hand found his, squeezing gently. “One step at a time. That’s all you need to do for now.” The words weren’t a solution, but they were something—a fragile thread of hope in a world that felt impossibly dark. And for the first time since returning to District 12, M/N didn’t feel completely lost. He still didn’t know how to live without Katniss, but with Peeta’s arm around his shoulders, guiding him back toward the fence, he thought maybe, just maybe, he could figure it out. One step at a time.

[darkcrowprincess]

@rweoutofthewoods

*Got inspired to write this little scene for your fic prey*

"What about a constellation/star name like my family does?" Regulus offers. At the sound of his voice, James comes into the loo to check on him. James stills and leans on the doorframe at the sight of the(his?) Omega.

Regulus Arcturus Black is for once calm( it's telling by the sweet content smell coming from him), soaking in the tub of warm mineral bath water. Most of Regulus' body is hidden by the water, you can only see Regulus arms and head leaning on one side, laying on a bath pillow. He has a book close to his face hiding his expression, dark curls slicked back with water.

The only other thing you can see is quite obvious. Like a little island in the middle of all that water is Regulus' stomach. It's his round, 5 months pregnant stomach. The sight of it brings something warm and possessive inside James. Both Alpha and just James in general.

Regulus at James' silence, finally lowers the book a little so his storm gray eyes can peak up at him from over the edge of his book. 'His eyes look happy,' thinks James.

"James what do you think?", said Regulus.

Shaking away the thought, James focuses on the now. And the now is Regulus(his Omega he can't think).

"A constellation/star name? Really? I was thinking more of the first thing I called them when I first found out," James jokes playfully. Not being able to stay put anymore, James goes to him. Kneeling right by the tub, James lays his head and arms on the tubs edge.

At that Regulus scoffs, and brings the book back up to hide his face. "We are not calling him oops."

James grins at Regulus, "How do you know it's a him?" James gently lays his hand on Regulus stomach. Soothingly rubbing his thumb along the wet skin.

"Just a feeling," Regulus mumbles shy. Trying to act like the touch is not affecting him, but James has eyes and a nose. The alpha can smell the affect he's having on the Omega, and see the sweet pink flush on his pale cheeks.

"Where did you get the book?" James questioned. Said book is "Book of names for your little witch or wizard."

Regulus turns a page and replies, "Owl ordered it. Was the best one they had. Most popular baby names for witches and wizards for the 80s." Regulus than frowns in annoyance, lowering the book from his face. To James he looks like a grumpy cat. A grumpy cat that makes you want to kiss his nose. James resists the temptation for now.

"Nothing sounds right," Regulus mutters. He hands the book to James, than runs his hands over his stomach. His touching James. As if they both want to sooth the unborn child at the same time. "Names have meaning, and he should have a strong name. Something that can protect him when we can't."

James skims through the book, not really looking. Honestly (and this is crazy, but it's James), the Alpha had already thought of a few names. After the first few weeks (and what a hard time those were) James without realizing it started thinking of a couple of names.

James offers casually, "What about Harry?"

Regulus who was leaning back fully onto the bath pillow, twitches than looks up at James. "Harry?" James smiles as Regulus sounds out the name. "Harry if it's a boy, and maybe Effie if it's a girl," continues James.

Regulus squints his eyes at James in thought. James babbles on nervous. " Effie is obviously for my mom. And well the name Harry just fits you know. At first it sounds like a normal name, but when you look up the meaning, it means strong. War god. Someone who has strength. And you were right, our baby could use all the-."

James is stopped from his babbling by Regulus, who puts soft wet fingers to his lips.

"I like it."

"You do?" James smiles at his nod. Finally them agreeing on something.

James kisses Regulus fingers in happiness, causing again for Regulus to blush.

Than wanting to be bold(Gryffindors, give them an inch and they take a mile), James leans over to Regulus round stomach and kisses near the belly button. "Hear that baby? You'll name will be Harry."

Regulus is trying not to smile, but do to hormones the Omega is failing.

To his Alpha he says, " Harry James Potter."

James looks back up at him in shock, but the shock on his face quickly turn to pure happiness and some other unnamable second emotion (it's love, neither of them dares to admit that. Even to themselves).

And because that causes James so much happiness, he leans over to kiss his Omega right on the mouth. His Omega kisses right back and than some. For now all is well for the three of them.

[mcsstydia]

Protect you - Peeta Mellark

prompt: you won the 73rd hunger games. and now you've fallen for the male tribute of the 74th. although he made it out alive, the two of you are now tributes for the third quarter quell.

pairing: peeta mellark x reader

Warnings: angst about the games

A/N: what can I say? I'm in love again....

word count: 2.2k

Masterlist

It was the sound of an earth-shattering thunder that finally awoke you from yet another nightmare. You opened your eyes just in time for them to catch a glimpse of a lighting through your open window. You slowely got to your feet and walked towards the window. Droplets of rain were already making their way onto your bedroom floor.

You leaned against the window still and gazed out into the stormy night. Rain and storms had always been something that calmed you. Whereas most other people groaned upon the arrivl of a storm, or fled into their homes when their skin began to wetten, your eyes lightened up whenever the skies cloudened.

Your nightmare had, of course, been about the upcoming quarter quell. You were scared to death about it. Not about dying, no. The 73rd hunger games, in which you had participated (and won) had already done their part about scaring you about dying.

No, this time, you were scared about Peeta. The boy from your district, who was just one year younger than you, and who you had, unfortunately, deeply fallen in love with. You see, when haymitch chose Katniss to survive in the arena of last year's games, you chose Peeta. You did everything in your power to protect him.

You flirted with sponsors, you spoke so highly of Peeta anything someone else would say about him would be uncomparable. Hell, you would have even slept with a sponsor had it meant you would get Peeta out of the games alive. Then you had the idea with Katniss and Peeta playing the star-crossed lovers.

the idea tugged at your heart, yes, but the feeling was nothing compared to the small sense of hope it gave you that Peeta could actually live a full life after the games. You knew in an instant that would mean that you could never be with him, not in a romantic sense, anyway. But it didn't matter. You would have given up everything for him. Even your own life.

And you were right, it didn't matter that you could not be with him. Because at this year's quarter quell, you would die anyway. President Snow wanted as many victors dead as possible, you knew that. Especially you, since you had the idea with the star-crossed lovers that led to two victor's in the games of last year.

So it was only fair that you volunteered when Katniss's name was drawn for the quarter quell. It wasn't her fault. It was yours. You didn't have anyone to come home to, anyway. Your family was dead, hers was still alive.

What did not make sense, and still does not, is why Peeta volunteered when Effie drew Haymitch's name. Peeta was in love with Katniss. You could see it, everytime he looked at her. Also, he was supposed to be in love with Katniss, otherwise everyone of you four would be in great trouble. Well, you were now, anyway. So why did he volunteer? Why did he throw away his life, the one you fought so hard for? The one you wanted him to have?

Another lightning struck, bringing you back to reality. You looked down onto the street of the victor's village. You had a direct view of Peeta's house, as it was across from yours. This is the reason you could see Peeta so clearly standing in his kitchen on the ground floor.

You cought his gaze, saw him looking up at you. For a moment, he looked almost embarassed. It was a facial expression you had never seen on him, which brought a smile to your lips. He averted his gaze and turned around and you thought he would just go back upstairs into his bedroom again. Instead, you watched him put on shoes and a jacket, turn off the light in the kitchen, and then open and close his front door.

You had to wonder for about one second about where he could possibly go before you noticed he was heading for your house. Your cheeks heated up and you shook your head, willing the redness to go away before you had to open your front door.

Peeta didn't knock or rang the bell, and you opened the door in silence after you ran down the stairs. There he stood, a shy grin spread on his lips and hands burried deep into the pockets of his sweatpants.

''Hi,'', he whispered, and it took everything in you not to grin out od excitement. But why, though? Why should you pretend the sight of him at your front door didn't set your heart ablaze? Who should you pretend for, anymore? In a few days, you would be dead, so why not let the boy know you were happy to see him?

A cautious, but genuine smile began to occupy your lips as you stepped aside, further opened your front door, and let him enter your house. You quietly closed the door behind him, and as you turned towards him, he had already rid himself of his jacket and shoes.

You took him in. All of him. You had to, for the last few days of your life. You could not let anything about him go unnoticed. You wanted to die being able to draw him from memory, to know every detail about him. You cuaght his gaze and you could tell he knew you were studying him.

It was no longer embarrassing. Why should it be? Nothing mattered anymore. ''Tea?'', you asked, voice quiet but not hoarse. ''Sure'', Peeta replied, his voice smooth and calming. The two of you went into the kitchen. You stood on opposite ends of your kitchen table as you waited for the water to boil.

The silence was not uncomfortable, yet you had to break it, you had to ask him, to finally know why he had to put himself in the games again when you worked to hard to get him out of the first ones.

''Why did you do it?'', you asked, staring out of your kitchen window, watching the rain fall mercilessly onto the ground. You turned towards Peeta now, but from the look on his face, you could tell he knew what you were talking about.

His gaze faced the floow, before finally, slowly, setting on you. He took a breath. ''You deserve to know,'', he said, to no one in particular. Your eyebrows drew together in confusion, yet you didn't push him, you knew he would tell you what you wanted to know anyway.

His gaze again dropped to the floor, but when he focused his eyes on yours again, this time, they stayed there. Peeta took another breath, this time seeming sure, seeming certain, his eyes not looking away from yours for even a second.

''You.'', he breathed out. Before you could react at all, either in confusion or acceptance, he continued. ''Because there isn't anything in this world I wouldn't do for you. Because I would rather die protecting you in the arena than live a life without you entirely. Because I want you to be the last person I see before I die. Because you are everything, everything to me. Because I love you.''

For a moment, it was so quiet all you could hear were the deafening sounds of the rain outside, and the blood pumping in your ears on the inside. Your breath got caught in your throat for a second too long, so when you exhaled, it was loud, almost a sound of relief.

Your heart was beating rapidly, telling you to go to him, kiss him, hug him, cry, for god's sake, do anything! But all you could bring yourself to say was: ''But, Katniss?'', it wasn't a full question, let alone a sentence, but yet again, Peeta seemed to have the ability to understand you without further ado.

''If you haven't noticed, I'm a pretty good actor,'', was all he said. He searched your eyes for a sign for, well, anyhing. Peeta took a tentative step towards you, still trying to decipher what you were thinking now.

''So it was all...'', you began. ''The act you proposed? Yes. I did everything you asked of me. Nothing more. I love Katniss, yes. As a friend. But who I cannot spend my life without is standing right in front of me. And I could not let you go into that arena, let alone let you die, without telling you.'', he explained.

The words were still registering in your head, your heart still beating loud and fast, urging you to finally give in to the feelings you had harboured for so long. This changed everything. ''But,'' you began.

''I'm your mentor,'', you said stupidly. There were a thousand things you wanted to tell him, and this was the one you came up with? Your statement actually elicited a laugh from the boy you would, quite literally, die for.

''Actually, your my fellow tribute now.'', he corrected you. You stayed silent, eyes trained on him, mouth shut out of fear. What good would it be, to tell him you felt the same way? You would be dead in a few days, and you would, again, do everyting so he could live.

''Look,'', he began, and with another two steps finally closed the distance between the two of you. Tentatively, and all the while looking for clues on your face that you wanted him to stop, he raised his right hand and cupped your cheek. This was it. You finally gave in. You leaned your head into the comfort of his warm, smooth hand and closed your eyes in contentment.

''You don't have to say anything back, but I wjust wanted you to know. I wanted you to know why I volunteered. And I wanted you to know why I will do everything in my power so you get out of that arena alive.'', his voice was quiet now. You had opened your eyes again, and he searched your eyes for a clue about what you were thinking.

Stupid boy! Stupid, stupid boy. To think you would let him die for you! To think your heart was yearning for anyone's but his!

''I love you,'', you finally whispered. Although you were furious with him. ''I love you so much it hurts. It hurt seeing you with Katniss, but it was the only way to get you out of there alive. I had to pretend it didn't hurt, when I knew I could never be with you. Oh, but hurt it did! It hurts even more now, to know you will go into that arena again!'', you averted your gaze from the blue of his eyes, afraid your body would betray you and tears would start pouring from your eyes.

Peeta's hand on your cheek guided your head back so you had to look at him again. ''I wanted to protect you,'', he whispered, and leaned his forehead against yours. ''And I wanted to protect you!'', you almost exclaimed, overwhelmed will all orts of feelings.

You looked deep into his eyes, a place where you wished you could stay forever. ''I can't let you do this Peeta, I can't-'', you were cut off by the soft feeling of this lips on yours.

For a moment, everything around you started spinning. You could now feel both of his hands engulfing your face. You could feel the warm breath fanning over your face, intermingling with yours. You ciuld feel the warmth of his body, drawing you into him. Your hands found the hems of his shirt and you held on tightly, afraid you would pass out if you didn't.

And, of course, you could feel his lips, and how they felt as they pressed and moved against yours. You had dreamed about this experience before. You had wondered how it would feel like, how he would taste, and smell. But nothing could have ever prepared you for how your stomach turned into excited knots, and how his lips were so smooth and how he tasted of toothpaste and smelled what you could only describe as home.

After some time, you had no telling of how long it had been, the both of you slowly pulled apart. Your eyes stayed closed a little while longer, your lips wore a genuine, content smile. When you opened your eyes, Peeta looked at you as if you were his whole world, and you wondered how you had missed this look for so long.

''I love you so much, you could never understand just how much,'',he whispered, and placed a delicate, but far too short-lasting kiss on your lips. ''I have a feeling I understand it quite well,'', you replied and took one of his hands into yours, caressing his fingers with yours.

''Will you stay with me tonight?'', you asked, hope glinting in your eyes. Peeta softly put a strand of losse hair behind your ear. ''I would do absolutely anything for you, love.'', he replied, and you believed him.

Tea long forgotten, the both of you went upstairs int your bedroom. You spent the night together. You cuddled, you kissed, neither of your knowing how much time you had left together, but both of you knowing you would do everything for the other.

[thelittlestladylikesthis]

The Pink Rose - Part 8

Part Eight- July 15th, 74 ADD

Masterlist

Pairing: Haymitch Abernathy x reader 

Word count: 3,019

Warnings: televised death, hetero relationship, cuddles, dirty talk, piv sex, trauma response, panic attack, memory of assault

Katniss and Peeta had been in the arena for four days now. That they had made it four days astounded many and made it that much easier for Haymitch and [Y/n] to drive any doubt the sponsors had away. The only problem left was that Peeta and Katniss didn’t stick together. [Y/n] couldn’t understand it. First Peeta had declared his feelings for Katniss on a Panem-wide broadcast and then he joined the very group of careers who wanted to kill Katniss.

“There’s only one winner,” Haymitch had said to her on more than one occasion. It still didn’t make sense.

[Y/n] and Haymitch had a scheduled lunch soiree with several of their current and potential sponsors. Due to this, Effie allowed them to skip a public breakfast and just keep up with the Games from the comfort of the District 12 penthouse. [Y/n] was grateful for this brief break from schmoozing with the very people she despised- the Capitol Elite. 

Her body was so used to waking up early, she physically could not stay asleep no matter how much she wanted to. She put on a robe and slippers over her small nightgown. At the end of the hall, she stopped when she heard the voice of Caesar Flickerman giving an update on the previous days highlights. She then noticed Haymitch’s salt and pepper curls sticking out above the couch. She walked over and plopped down next to him before cuddling into his side and resting her head on his shoulder.

“Mornin’ Sweetheart,” he said before kissing the top of her head. His gaze never left the screen. 

Noticing his seriousness, [Y/n] sat up and followed his eyes, “Did something happen?”

“Not yet. Peeta and the Careers are camped out under the tree Katniss climbed. Peeta convinced them to ‘wait it out’ instead of them tryin’ to shoot her,”

“Shoot her?”

“Yeah, that District 1 girl has the bow and arrow,”

Oh. The weapon that would’ve benefitted Katniss was a tree height away and she couldn’t get it. The camera suddenly cut from the Careers to a little girl who had climbed up a tree adjacent to where Katniss was beginning to stir. The young girl- Rue- was only 12 years old and from District 11. The odds were completely out of her favor. [Y/n] wondered whose idea it was for Rue to get close to Katniss. Rue was the same age as Primrose and that was bound to be a weakness for Katniss. [Y/n]’s mind began to wander until she heard Caesar say “tracker jackers”. [Y/n] and Haymitch now watched intently as Katniss evaluated the hive of lethal, genetically engineered wasps. If Katniss were stung, she would experience intense hallucinations; or if stung enough she would not survive the encounter.

“What the hell is she doing?” Haymitch said with an elevated voice and slight tone of concern.

“Oh hell… is she- she’s gonna drop it on them!” [Y/n] didn’t know why she panicked, but she knew Haymitch saw this as a stupid risk where Katniss could be stung too.

Sure enough, as Katniss used her knife to saw the tree limb, the tracker jackers became aware of her and emerged from the hive. One found her leg first, another her neck, a few more her hands. Finally, the limb dropped and crashed to the ground in the middle of the camp where Peeta and the Careers slept. Katniss already looked out of sorts and the group below screamed in terror at the tracker jacker attack. They completely abandoned their site, forgetting their belongings and forgetting Katniss to run for the water. The camera tried to get a glimpse of everyone before a cannon sounded- and then a second one. The female tribute from District 4 had been stung too many times. The second cannon was the female from District 1- the girl with the bow and arrows. [Y/n] and Haymitch were stunned to silence. In a few short minutes, Katniss indirectly caused the death of two other tributes and managed to evade the others trying to kill her.

“Well… not what I expected to see before breakfast,” [Y/n] said quietly.

Haymitch put his arm around her shoulders and said, “It’s not over; let’s see what else she does,”

Katniss stumbled down the tree, almost falling about halfway down. Her torn pants displayed the large purple welt on on her knee that had started to ooze a green tinted pus. The District 1 girl was swollen beyond recognition from head to toe by the time Katniss got to her. Using all the strength she could muster, Katniss ripped the bow and arrows off the girl’s lifeless body. Katniss’ face contorted into something of fear- she was undoubtedly hallucinating.

“Poor kid; I don’t envy whatever she’s seeing,” Haymitch mused sadly. 

Suddenly, a noise came from the nearby brush and out jumped Peeta with a spear. 

“Shit,” [Y/n] said with a flat tone.

“Katniss! What are you still doing here?” Peeta hissed at her- he began to prod her with the handle of the spear, “Are you crazy? Get up! Get up!” he began to yell at her, “Run! Run!”

Katniss was absolutely hallucinating. Peeta finally got her up and shoved her forward to get her moving. He was trying to save her from the returning Careers.

Haymitch threw his hands in the air as he and [Y/n] watched Peeta shove Katniss away into the brush. Katniss stumbled into the plants and down the nearby slope before passing out. Her body was still except for the rise and fall of her chest. After a moment of stunned silence that no doubt resonated across Panem, Rue entered the screen. She tiptoed to Katniss’ body as she looked around for anyone else. 

Rue used all of the strength her body could muster and dragged Katniss into a hidden area, “Don’t worry, I’ve got you,”

*  *  *  *  *

“So, how do you feel about Miss Everdeen’s newest ally?” Plutarch asked as he poured himself a cup of tea.

“Well, she’s an interesting choice that’s for sure,” Haymitch said before plucking a finger sandwich into his mouth. 

“I think what Haymitch means to say is that we never discussed the possibility of Rue or Thresh as allies because we were busy prepping them to go into the arena,” [Y/n] interjected.

Plutarch chuckled, “Districts 11 and 12 have historically been allies given how poorly they’re treated. Even after Rue made the salve for Katniss’ stings and Katniss shared her burn medicine, one would imagine they’d had some sort of conversation,”

“What’s your point?” Haymitch asked with suspicion. 

“Why do you think dialogue between Katniss and Rue was never aired?” Plutarch challenged. 

[Y/n] studied her nail as she thought about it, “They were talking about home, they were discussing their struggles,” she said without looking up.

“Precisely,” Plutarch nodded, “Now, we know better than most what goes on in other districts and I know what the tributes discuss when they take a moment to sit down,”

[Y/n] and Haymitch nodded as they tried to recall conversations they’d had with other tributes in the arena.

“So again, what’s your point?” Haymitch asked, voice laced with suspicion.

Plutarch chuckled, “Mr. Abernathy, Ms. Bellwood, how much have you heard about the resistance going against the Capitol?”

“Only that it exists- I might know a few, but not what they’re up to,” Haymitch said.

[Y/n] took a deep breath, “They operate quietly out of… well…”

Plutarch and Haymitch looked at [Y/n] while she contemplated what to say next. Had she said too much? She let this information slip and she didn’t even know if she could trust Plutarch. He was a Gamemaker- how could he be considered trustworthy at all? When it seemed as if [Y/n] wouldn’t say anything more, Haymitch placed his hand on her knee to comfort her. 

“I understand your hesitance Ms. Bellwood; you’ve been burdened with knowledge that shouldn’t have been shared with you,” Plutarch said, “But you’re not wrong, the resistance is alive. And it’s looking to build. It’s currently in adolescence, but it needs to grow up- and fast,”

Haymitch’s hand gripped [Y/n]’s knee harder; concern had him on edge and it radiated out of his hand “What happened to make you approach us?” he asked with suspicion.

“The Girl on Fire has sparked some controversy in the outlying districts. Her strength resounds and the sparks just need some oxygen to turn into flames,” 

[Y/n] sighed and chuckled softly, “You’ve really taken a shine to the fire angle,”

Plutarch smiled, “You wouldn’t be the only Victors involved; or people involved in the Games directly,” he pulled a small copper plate from his pocket, “Don’t lose this,”

He squeezed each side of the plate and a small camera opened on one side; he started the camera and looked into it saying, “The Capitol is a dictatorial plague and I am for the resistance,”

Plutarch squeezed the sides again and handed it to Haymitch, “Press the button on the back,”

Haymitch did as he was told and a small image of Plutarch projected from the camera and played back what he had said to it. 

“I hope that convinces you enough- I’m giving you this in good faith and wholeheartedly ask that you don’t lose it,” he smiled grimly.

[Y/n] placed a hand on the table and looked at him, “I appreciate you coming to us for this; we’ll discuss and get back to you tomorrow?”

Plutarch nodded in agreement, “Thank you for joining me, and don’t worry, President Snow doesn’t have cameras in here. One of the perks of being me,” as he walked about, he stopped at the door and half turned towards them, “Ms. Trinket was right- you two are a handsome couple,” he left them in stunned silence.

“Handsome. Couple. Effie said that?” Haymitch asked aloud.

[Y/n] kissed his scruffy cheek, “You know she’s an emotional romantic,”

Back at the penthouse, the District 12 crew watch the end of day summary for the Games. Haymitch and Cinna marveled over Katniss’ use of the tracker jackers, while Effie and Portia pondered Peeta’s decision to join the careers and what that would do for his image. [Y/n] picked at her food and pondered the conversation she’d had with Haymitch and Plutarch. Was she supposed to tell Haymitch how much she already knew? Should she introduce him to her contacts. Why didn’t she already know about Plutarch’s involvement?

Standing up, she drew the attention of the table, “I’m going to bed, I have an early start tomorrow,”

The group wished her goodnight; everyone but Haymitch who sensed she wasn’t being completely honest. Once the dinner ended, he made his way [Y/n]’s door and knocked softly.

“Come in,”

“I thought you had to wake early tomorrow?” he smiled

“Well why did you come to my room then?” [Y/n] snapped playfully.

Haymitch walked up and wrapped his arms around her midsection. [Y/n] smiled softly at the goosebumps that rose at the touch of his warm skin. She watched the content look on his face in the mirror as she gazed into the glass.

“Who was winning the staring match before I interrupted?”

[Y/n] scoffed with a smile, “Probably my reflection,”

Her cheeks flushed as she studied Haymitch’s strong arms around her. 

“What’s so funny?” he asked at the sight of her smile

“Oh nothing,” she sighed before slowly pressing her rear backwards and moving it side to side.

A quiet groan came from his throat, “Tell me,” he whispered, “What do you want?”

“I want you to make me feel like you did the morning of Reaping Day,”

“You mean the part before Effie interrupted us?”

“Yes- but don’t be so gentle,”

“Oh?” he said with a small grin. Haymitch put one hand on [Y/n]’s waist turned her around and pushed her against the wall, “Define: not gentle,” He ducked his head down, leaving trails of warm kisses up and down her neck.

[Y/n] bit her lip before letting out a soft sigh, “I want- mmmm,” Haymitch began kneading her chest, “Haymitch- I want you to fuck me, like you’ll never see me again,”

He moved his hands up and placed one on each side of her face, bringing her to him. This kiss was different than others; it was filled with want and need. Appreciation mixed with desire and intention spread about them. He parted their lips by mere millimeters and whispered into her mouth, “Let me know if I cross a line Sweetheart, it’s about you this time,”

[Y/n] melted as her smile kissed him again. Their lips and tongues danced together as she pulled Haymitch closer. He moaned into her mouth and trailed his hands down her body, leaving a line of heat. He lifted the skirt of her dress until it was bunched up at her hips. [Y/n] moaned into his mouth as he used his fingers to run warm circles between her legs. She could feel how wet her lace underwear was.

“Haymitch, I need your cock inside me,” her hips ground into his fingers before she jerked away to remove her underwear. As soon as she did, Haymitch had already removed his pants and briefs. He grabbed [Y/n]’s rear and lifted her so she could wrap her legs around his waist. He used the wall and one hand to hold her up and the other to aim his tip towards her entrance. 

He looked into her eyes, “Are you ready?”

“I’ve been ready,” she smiled mischeiviously. 

He slowly lowered her down until he was fully sheathed inside her. They softly moaned simultaneously. He put his other hand back to her rear and carried her across the room. He laid her down on the bed, carefully so not to remove himself completely. Once they were both lowered, he moved his hips back and forth; starting slow but gradually building speed and force. 

“Goddammit Sweetheart,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Oh my days!” her back arched up and Haymitch’s name softly emerged from her lips.

Both of them mildly concentrating on not being too loud, a symphony of quiet moans, sighs, and ‘I love you’s’ passed between them as their bodies entwined. Haymitch could feel [Y/n] tightening around him and took that as a sign to keep up what he was doing. He felt himself reach the edge of his ability to contain himself. Trying to keep himself together for her, Haymitch placed one hand on her shoulder and stroked the front of her neck with his thumb, “I needed this,” he groaned softly.

Those three words. [Y/n] felt the blood drain from her face and a knot formed in her throat. She gasped and shoved Haymitch off her before nearly jumping from the bed. Haymitch stayed frozen on the bed, utterly confused at what had just happened. Heart dropping to his stomach, he reached towards her- hovering inches from her back, he recognized the reaction. It was too similar to what happened when she awoke from nightmares of the Games. The Games he understood, but this was different. This was something else completely. [Y/n]’s hair parted over her shoulders with the movement of her sobs. Haymitch suddenly noticed a raised edge at her hairline. He couldn’t figure out how he’d never noticed it, but suspected alcohol had a hand in that. Looking closer, he realized that the raised edge was a healed scar shaped like the letter P.

[Y/n] sat on the floor and continued sobbing quietly. Haymitch held out the blanket and she quickly wrapped herself in it. Haymitch put his briefs back on and sat cross-legged and at arms length. He placed his hands on the floor palms up and watched her with a pained expression on his face. He breathed deeply through his nose and out his mouth, creating an audible rhythm for [Y/n] to hear.

[Y/n] kept hearing the phrase in her head over and over again. I needed this. I needed this. I needed this. She replayed the memory of a pair of hands stroking her neck and pinning her down. Shaking and unable to breathe, she tried to focus on Haymitch’s breaths. Her heart pounded in her ears and it took all the strength she had left to change her breathing pattern in an attempt to match Haymitch. Barely moving her gaze, she saw his hands between them. She reached her trembling hands out and gently placed them on his. Haymitch didn’t move, but continued to watch her with worry building inside him.

They sat for several minutes, hands touching and bodies moving only with each inhale and exhale. With her brain almost clear enough to put a simple thought together, she closed her hands around Haymitch’s fingers.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Sweetheart… [Y/n]... I don’t know what you’re sorry for,” he cleared his throat softly, “But I have a feeling it’s not a bit your fault,”

[Y/n] crawled forward and curled up in his lap. She leaned into his chest and he felt her tears slowly drip down his body, “Can I hold you?”

“Yes,” whispered softly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

She nodded her head ‘no’.

“Do you need to talk about it?”

“Not now,”

“I’m here, Sweetheart. I’m here for you,” Haymitch slowly rocked their bodies back and forth. He kept his body still, soft, and calm. As a Hunger Games Victor, he recognized a response to trauma like a star recognized the sky. He and [Y/n] had taken turns calming each other after nightmares for years. Liquor kept him calm and warm now and for years before her. But this was different. This wasn’t a flashback to the same singular death-defying moment. This was… something repetitive.

He lifted his chin so she wouldn’t feel his jaw clench as rage flashed across his face: Who hurt her?

Masterlist

[lunamadhatter99]

All for the cameras

chapter 2

Finnick Odair x fem!reader

Here we go, part 2! Thank you, thank you, thank you all for the support with the first chapter!! I'm so glad that everyone liked it.

I hope you're going to like this second chapter too🤞 again if you're new and want to be tagged in the next chapter, comment here❤️❤️❤️

Chapter summary: It's time for the big event. And better keep our eyes open.

Chapter warning: none, except the usual mention of prostitution and usual Hunger Games stuff. Nothing too wild. We still won't see Finnick in this chapter, but I promise it's going to be worth it❤️

Tag list

@guacam011y

@justtrying2getby

@idontevenknow1359

@alexandra-001

@bambikitten

@maggiecc

@redh00dsbf

@haneybunny

@1-800-styles

@sisiking99

"Snow is watching us." Haymitch says, we're almost at the Capitol for the final interview and the big celebration.

"Of course, he is. He needs to watch everything. Especially the inconveniences," I scoff.

"Yeah. And if he wants you to pacify the districts, I promise you, he's not happy." Haymitch continues, "instead of being in love, you two sounds like you're reading from a drilling manual."

"You try reading that stuff that Effie writes us," Peeta mutters.

"Snow doesn't care." I tell him. "That's not how you want to convince him."

"I'm open to suggestions," he says back, tired.

"We could get married," Katniss quietly suggests, not looking up at anyone.

"That's not helping," Haymitch comments.

"I'm serious. If, like you said we're on this train forever, it's gonna happen eventually. Why not now?"

"It does make a statement. I'll give you that." Haymitch then looks at Peeta who agrees, but quickly stands up and leave. Katniss looks at me.

"It's something we can try, you're right... they would want it to happen eventually." I shrug.

"It's settle, then." Haymitch drinks to that and Katniss looks at me with hope.

---------------

"Are you sure you don't want to come to the party?" I ask Haymitch before I have to leave for Snow's residence. "Lots of free alcohol."

"I don't need free alcohol." He chuckles amused, "I'm a victor. I already got that."

"Don't you want to save a damsel in distress?" I try again.

"Our president seems very well guarded on his own," Haymitch jokes, "he's safe."

I genuinely laugh at that shaking my head.

"See? I need that! Please?" I try to beg just one more time.

"Don't send me that look, Princess." He turns his head away ready to walk away.

"Fine, fine... I tried." I raise my hands up in surrender. "Wish me luck, at least. "

"Maybe they'll leave you alone tonight, too interested in the two lovers," he sadly smiles at me, hoping, rather than believing, his own words to be true.

"Yeah, maybe," I take a deep breath, "well... have a goodnight, Haymitch."

"You too, princess." He winks, "and eyes open."

------------

The party is just as exaggerated as ever. Lots of people, lots of food and drinks and lots of lights.

I make my way through the crowd, towards the tables full of food and drinks, hoping to find something to make this evening more tolerable. I take a glass and take a sip, breathing deeply.

Some people come to talk to me, about the victors, thankfully.

"Two victors, exciting, uh?" One of the them says cheerfully.

"Very," I say with my usual forced smile.

"You must be proud, two victors on your turn on 12," a woman with very voluminous hair nudges me, "you were the talk of the town these past few days, you know?"

"Me?" I ask, surprised by that, usually everyone forgets about me during the victory tour.

"Oh yes, well beside the lovebirds." A green haired man chimes in.

"Why?" I start to get anxious, the necklaces feel a lot tighter than before.

"I heard a rumour... someone wants to put a ring on your finger," she whisper-exclaims with a wink.

"W-what?... I don't think... uh..." I stutter.

"C'mon, everyone knows you're Cal Kingslay's favourite." She teases, with a devilish smirk, "and it's rumored that he wants you all to himself."

"Isn't that wonderful?" The man cheers. "We could probably get two well awaited weddings this year!"

"I hope I didn't ruin the surprise." The woman adds, with, what I'm sure is, a fake apologetic smile.

"Of course not. Now would you excuse me, gotta wait for my Victors." I say turning around to walk as far as possible from them, I finish my drink in one go and soon take another glass. Thankfully it's announced the arrival of Katniss and Peeta.

I spot them walking through the crowd following Effie and heading to Flavius and Octavia so I quickly join them.

As they see me arrive they immediately smile, relieved.

"There you are," I say holding my hands out for them to hold, "I've missed you,"

All for the cameras.

"It's only been 30 minutes," Peeta plays along.

"And you can stay that long away from me?" I fake offence, "You wound me,"

Everyone around us laugh so I just decide to stick with them as long as I can.

Helping them play along is much easier than expected, especially with Peeta, Katniss is still a little uncertain, but I get her, it got me years and years to get used to the cameras.

After I unfortunately finish my fourth glass, I need another one, in order to survive this evening.

"Excuse me a second," I whisper at them and head to the other side of the room where I can get another glass of Whiskey.

I turn around to go back to Katniss and Peeta when I'm met with a firm chest.

Unfortunately I already know who this might be.

"Found you" Cal teases.

I look up at him, the blue in his hair is even stronger than I remembered, and a little longer too, he got bigger, more muscles for sure, eyes just as devilish.

"That you did," I try to mask my fear with a chuckle.

"I've missed you, you know, been looking everywhere for you since I got here," he says with a sweet tone, that only makes my skin crawl. He grabs my hand to play with my fingers.

"I've been here the whole time, chatting with the Victors you know," I take my hand back, "I should get back to them, exc-"

"They got you all this time," he stops me from walking away, "it's not the same without you."

"I..." I want to say something, but nothing comes out.

"I mean, it's fun and all with Finnick, but with you..." he lets out a big dreamy sigh, "with you it's so much better"

He says the last part leaning in, close enough to suffocate me.

"Excuse me?"

We both turn and see Peeta standing there.

"Peeta!" I say, both surprised and relieved, "Peeta, uh.. this is Cal Kingslay, his father was once the general himself"

"Nice to meet you, sir," Peeta extends his hand and Cal grabs it and shakes it.

"The pleasure is all mine, Mr Mellark," Cal greets him, he's tense though, he doesn't like being interrupted.

"Uh... Peeta, where's Katniss?" I ask to change the subject.

"She's dancing with the new Head Gamemaker," he explains simply, "but I still wanted to dance so I thought to ask you, if you're free."

"Oh, but of course," I say holding out my hand for him.

"But..." Cal starts.

"Oh, c'mon, he's our new victor, we can't say no to him, now can we?"

"Of course not," Cal says with a very evident forced smile.

That being said, me and Peeta go dance with the other people, I even spot Katniss with said New head Gamemaker.

"Thank you," I breathlessly say as we start dancing.

"You're welcome, you looked like you needed saving," he says with his kind smile, "who is he?"

"A fan" I simply say, "a very... uh... insisting one"

"I see," he nods.

"Thanks again, really."

"Don't worry about it." He laugh, "I mean, you helped saving me in that arena, this is nothing."

It's actually a lot more than he thinks.

I smile at him, grateful.

I then feel a slight tap on my shoulder, I turn around seeing Katnis and the Gamemaker.

"Mind changing partners?" He asks politely.

"Sure."

Me and Katniss exchange spots.

"It's an honour," he says once we're dancing.

"That honour would be the same if I knew your name sir," I tease.

"Oh, my bad, I apologise." He chuckles, amused, "I'm Plutarch Heavensbee,"

"Now the honour is mine," I say, "new head Gamemaker... when did they choose you?"

"Oh, I volunteer," he simply explains.

"Oh..." I let out a surprised laugh, "I see Katniss is already dictating fashion."

"Yeah, she's an inspiration, don't you think?" He says it almost as a challenge.

"I do," I answer seriously. "There must be more then... why volunteer?"

"I think it's time for the game to mean something," he shrugs and smiles.

"Mean something?" I wonder, "that's pretentious,"

"A little," he chuckles again, "so I'd keep those eyes open, if I were you."

My eyes snap back at his face, he's smiling, proud of himself.

Why? Does he know something? Does Haymitch know something?

Before I get the chance to ask him anything, the Capitol anthem starts and the crowd cheers.

"I'm sure we'll meet again," he says before following the rest of the people out for President Snow's speech.

I'm a little stunned, it's Effie's call that snaps me out of it. I quickly join her, Katniss and Peeta out.

We all gather in front of the residence, waiting for the President Snow to come out. I turn around looking for Cal, only to make sure he doesn't sneak up on me again. I see him looking around, for me probably, so I quickly turn around getting closer to Katniss.

At last the President comes out on his balcony.

"Tonight, on this, the last day of their tour, I want to welcome our two Victors." He starts with his usual charming persona, two young people who embody our idealsof strength and valor. And I, personally, want to congratulate them on the announcement of their engagement."

Everyone cheers. Peeta and Katniss smile at the crowd around them.

"Your love has inspired us. And I know it will go on inspiring us every day for as long as you may live." He holds up his glass and the fireworks start and I turn around to look at them like everyone.

I sense Katniss holding my hand and turning around. I want to look at Snow too, but the way she starts to squeeze my hand tells me all I need to know...

He doesn't believe them.

It didn't work.

---------------

I'm sitting in an armchair staring at nothing in particular. My mind can't help but think about whatever we can do to make their story more believable, but nothing, absolutely nothing comes up.

The riots in the districts surely won't make him happy, which means it will be worse for everyone else.

Fuck.

My head snaps back as I hear footsteps coming, I let out a sigh when I notice it's just Katniss.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," she apologises.

"Don't worry about it," I wave her off, "can't sleep either?"

She shakes her head, I motion for her to sit with me.

"Do you think we ever had any chance?" She then asks me.

"I guess, the positive side of me really hoped... but the realistic side knew." I sigh, looking down at my own hands, "I'm afraid it was too late from the beginning. And I don't mean from what happen in 11... I mean from the moment you took out the berries, that made the districts feel something, these riots all over the place won't be pacify by a love story. Snow knows that."

"He asked me to convince him," she explains, "to convince him ours is true love."

"He never believed you." I directly say, "not for a second."

"Why ask me that then?"

"Control." I simply answer looking up at her with a serious expression. "Show you he has control."

"How did you end up living like this?" She asks, she seems genuinely interested, but I'm not ready to share that part of my life with her just yet.

I smile at her, a smile that doesn't reach my eye.

"Aw... Katniss, I thought you knew the difference between living" I turn serious again, looking her dead in the eyes," and surviving."

With that I stand up, grab a bottle of what I think is rum, and head to my room.

-----------

I stand by the doors waiting for Peeta, Katniss and Haymitch to get off the train. The thought of going back to normal is dreadful enough, going back alone is even worse, I don't want to think about it.

"Home sweet home," Haymitch declares as he nears.

"Don't be so eager to leave me," I joke, holding my hand out for him to shake, he takes and kiss the back of it.

"You know, it pains me deeply," he teases back and I chuckle.

"Take care of them, will you?" I ask quietly.

"You take care of yourself, will you?" He lets go of my hand and leans down to whisper into my ear, "and eyes open" He smiles one more time before getting of the train.

"You'll have to explain that to me properly one of these days," I tell him as I watch him go.

"Isn't his whole character just... cryptic?" I turn around seeing Peeta and Katniss.

"Or just constantly drunk." Katniss chimes in.

"He's cryptically drunk all the time," I smile, "so... you got everything?"

"Yeah, we're ready to get home." Peeta smile back at me.

"Good... Good." I let out a deep sigh, "it's been a pleasure assisting you two. I guess I'll see you at the next Hunger Games, mentors."

"Thank you for everything, Y/n." Peeta pulls me in for a quick hug before walking away.

"Bye," I wave then turn to Katniss, "you okay?"

"Yeah... I think so." She forces a small smile.

"I wish I could do more," I tell her honestly.

"Thanks,"

"Say hi to your family for me, alright?" I smile again and she nods.

Once Katniss is out of sight a Peacekeeper comes up to me.

"Yes?" I ask.

"Your presence has been requested back in the Capitol. We'll be leaving soon." He tells me.

"May I know who requested it?" I ask, tired. I already imagine who-

"President Snow."

Uh?

"Did he say why?"

The peacekeeper doesn't answer and walks away. I stand here dumbfounded, wondering what he might want from me.

Is it because of Katniss and Peeta?

Is it because of the riots in the districts?

Is it because of the Quartel Quell? Does he wants me to be more participant or?

Then a terrifying thought comes to mind...

------------

"You asked for me, sir?" I stand in front of his desk as he write something down.

"It came to my attention a rumour's veen going around regarding you, miss L/n." He starts, still not looking directly at me, "a merry one."

"Sir?" I ask, my throat instantly dry.

"Cal Kingslay apparently wants to marry you," he finally puts down the pen and looks at me with, what might seem, a genuinely happy expression, "That's a wonderful news."

"Is it?" I don't know what he wants from me.

"Oh yes, the people can't help but be thrilled about. the idea. I, myself, think it's great news. After the contributions the Kingslays gave to the games in these last years, it will show, not only to the Capitol, but the districts as well, that you are an active part of this system." He explains, the hint of a challenge in his eyes. Challenge me to say no, to refuse.

I really want to, I want to scream at him and just run away. Being sold to all rich people in the Capitol is not the life I want, but being tied to him... permanently, it's more terrifying.

But I have no choice.

All I can do is swallow my pride and take a deep shaky breath.

"I... how... how will it happen, sir?" I ask.

"You two will get engaged once I announce the Third Quarter Quell and get properly married after the crowing of the Victor. He will ask, you will happily say yes." He explains, satisfied with my compliance, then he goes back at the papers in front of him, "That's all."

I don't need him to tell me twice, I immediately walk out of his office, ready to go home and just let everything out.

"Oh, before you go," Snow's voice freezes me on the spot, "Plutarch Heavensbee asked for your company, you will be escorted to his house immediately." He informs me.

I shakily nod and walk out of his office where two guards make way.

-----------

"Do you want some tea?" Plutarch motion for me to sit at a big wooden table, "perhaps something stronger?"

I nervously nod as I sit.

He walks away, I hear him talking to someone before walking back into the room I'm in with two drinks in hand. He offers one to me and sits by the opposite side of the table.

"I told the guards to come back in an hour, we should have enough time" he smiles and I nod again, still not sure of what to expect.

Suddenly the lights go off and the room falls into deep darkness. I can still make out his face due to the lights coming from outside.

"What...?" I ask.

"You can never feel safer," he tells me.

"What's going on, Mr Heavensbee?" I ask, anxiety growing at every passing second.

"Tell me, miss L/n," he starts, voice a little quieter than before, "what do you know about district 13?"

[rennarita]

ELP returns to attack David Finlay

[skyewritesstuff]

tim mcgraw (peeta's version)

my masterlist.

entry 1 in my (taylor's version) songfic series.

summary: of all the ways the games could take peeta from you, you never imagined it to be like this.

pairing: peeta mellark x reader (set during the aftermath of the first book)

fandom: the hunger games

warnings: none, it's just sad!

notes: based on tim mcgraw by taylor swift. has been beta read.

word count: 3.4k

Peeta Mellark.

You’d heard his name spoken countless times in your life. Teachers called on him, hoping for an answer. His father confronted him on whether or not the daily tasks for the bakery had been completed. You’d asked him to go on walks with you, to teach you how to bake, and to lay on your backs in your small backyard, staring up at the night sky.

However, when Effie Trinket spoke his name, she wasn’t simply asking for a tribute; She was sentencing him to death.

The walk to the room where the blonde was being held, awaiting the impending trip to The Capitol, felt like it took days. The stares of the other District 12 residents made you feel as if you’d been selected yourself, but in a way, it felt like you had. You knew that the second the cannon fired in the arena and Peeta’s handsome features were shown on screen for the final time, a part of you would go with him. It was inevitable.

As soon as you were ushered behind the heavy wooden doors, you locked eyes with the blonde. He very visibly released a breath that he must not have even realized he’d been holding before stepping forward.

The peacekeeper’s gruff voice from behind you broke your trance, “You have three minutes.”

Tears brimmed behind your lashes. “Peeta…” Your voice cracked and his name exited your lips sounding more like a question, as if you were asking him if this was reality.

“Y/N, it’s going to be okay. I promise.”

You didn’t know whether to finally let those tears fall or to scream and push at him, hoping to knock some sense into him that this was not going to be okay. However, the shakiness in his voice indicated that he might’ve already been aware of this.

“N-No…No, it’s not…it’s never going to be okay again.” The tears began to fall rapidly and your hands covered your face, hoping to shield the boy from a guilt he had no reason to harbor.

With a delicate touch, he reached up and pulled your hands away with his, shushing you gently and pulling you into his body. His arms wrapped around you tightly. The embrace felt like all of his embraces before every reaping since you first began dating at fourteen: finite. Except this time, it was.

“Listen, I need you to stay strong for me, okay? You’re going to be on my mind the entire time I’m in that arena…and you’ll be the last thing I think of before the cannon sounds. I love you. It was never supposed to end this way.” 

This time, he looked like he was going to dissolve into his own tears that he was quite obviously fighting back. You reached up and wiped at your eyes. 

“N-No…there’s not going to be any cannons…you have to win.” You tried to force a smile to impact his overall mentality, but his facial expression remained unchanged.

Peeta chuckled, “I can’t make any promises…”

“I love you…” the statement came out weakly, tears falling slowly down your cheeks, “I love you and I need you to come home.”

“Time’s up.”

You both shared one, rushed, final kiss before you felt a strong hand on your back all but jerking you towards the exit, tears streaming down your face.

Little did you know, he would come home, but the version of you who he came home to was vastly different from the one he left behind those big wooden doors on reaping day. You both had been so changed by the games. He’d faced horrors unlike any other and you’d faced a betrayal that hurt worse than any death you could’ve faced fighting alongside him in the arena.

From the stares you got at school and around town to your mother’s now disapproving tone towards the blonde, wishing his demise at every new turn in the games, Peeta’s infamous interview turned your world upside down. You wanted to believe it was all some big scheme for the games, hoping that if they played as lovers, they’d win the favor of the Capitol…but Katniss was also a known loner. He never would truly have a chance to interact with her or engage with her in a way that would not result in him being coldly pushed away if he’d not been forced to compete with and against her.

Who’s to say he hadn’t harbored feelings for her all along knowing that they’d never be requited? Then again, who’s also to say that him mentioning you, his partner of two years, would be enough to bring sympathy and sponsors from the Capitol? You watched the games every single year. There was always at least one sob story about someone who had to get back to a significant other and that never changed their fate in the games. 

You looked at yourself in the small mirror on the wall of your home, letting two French braids out of your hair so that they cascaded down in waves. Your head was beginning to hurt right at your left temple, a feeling you’d grown too accustomed to over the time frame of the games. Between the headaches, sleepless nights, and tears, the mental gymnastics every move Peeta made in the game had taken its toll on you.

“I cannot believe you’re still going to see him. He embarrassed you. He made a fool out of you in front of the entire country, but especially in our District and you’re still going to see him.” your mother looked up from some sewing she was doing right as soon as you dropped to your knees beside your bed and pulled out a box. On top of some pictures of you and Peeta, drawings he’d given you, dried flowers, and a variety of other things you’d collected throughout your relationship was a letter simply addressed with his name. You picked it up and tucked it away in your bag, shaking your head at your mother’s comments.

“I…have to. I have to just…get closure. I can’t move on if I don’t just…figure this all out in my head.” Your hand played with the strap of your bag as your mother shrugged in your direction, still mumbling under her breath as you exited your home and started towards Victor’s Village.

Part of you wanted to see him just to make it concrete in your head that he was alive because part of you doubted the allowance of two victors in the games. The other part of you wanted to avoid him at all costs so you never had to face the conversation to come, which could lead to you losing the love of your young life.

You made your way up the cobblestone road, your eyes fixed down strictly out of nerves. You admired the different stones under your feet as you headed on, only glancing up when you realized you needed to identify which house belonged to Peeta. You knew which home belonged to Haymitch, but there were lights on in two other houses. You surveyed their appearances until you observed a barely noticeable billow of smoke coming out of the chimney, perhaps from an oven.

You walked up to the front porch of this home and knocked gently, your hands quickly flying back to the strap of your bag, twisting it back and forth as you waited. 

A brunette answered the door, looking perplexed as to why you were standing there. You took in her harsh stare, her side braid, and the wound on her forehead and took a hard swallow.

“Oh…” Your eyes fell to the ground again.

“Can I help you?” Katniss asked. Her tone wasn’t as harsh as the way she’d been eyeing you. She sounded confused and you didn’t blame her.

A laugh sounded from behind her, causing you to look back up and over her shoulder. Haymitch Abernathy stood off in the distance, taking a swig from a longneck bottle, shaking his head.

“H/C hair, E/C eyes…this is the real game right here.” He took another sip, “I’ve been interested in this since the train home.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Haymitch?” Katniss asked, looking from you to Haymitch and then back to you.

“That’s Lover Boy’s real lady.”

“Oh my god…”

“Is…”

“Wrong house…” Katniss took a hard swallow herself, looking rather uncomfortable. She opened her mouth to speak a few times, but then ultimately decided not to. “Can you just…give him this…please?” You reached into your bag and withdrew the piece of paper that you’d spent many long nights pouring into since the night of the interview.

“Uh, sure, but he lives…” she began to gesture with the piece of paper, but you turned and walked away, arms wrapped around your midsection as you felt your chest begin to tighten and a lump began to form in your throat.

You heard Haymitch call something out from behind you as you picked up your pace and exited Victor’s Village. You felt stupid. You should’ve just gone next door and either given Peeta a piece of your mind, tried to talk this whole situation out, or just slid the letter in the mail slot on the door and continued on home.

Who knows if Katniss will ever actually give him that letter, especially if she’s harboring some kind of feelings towards him that she wants to make sure stays locked down. You let out a long sigh and then quickly changed your direction. You weren’t ready to go home and face the cruel commentary your mother would spew the second you stepped onto the threshold of the house. 

Instead, you went to your backyard, staying out of the way of the windows so that you couldn’t be seen. You sat your bag on the ground and stared up at the sky. The sun was just starting to set and it was turning the beautiful shade of orange that Peeta loved and would try to capture with his paints. The lone thought caused your chest to ache and tears to well up in your eyes again. Except this time, you allowed them to fall.

As you looked up into that orange sky, you began to recite the letter to yourself internally despite the thoughts being placed out in the open the second you turned the piece of paper over into Katniss’ hand.

Peeta,

I don’t know what to say. I needed you to come home, but not like this. I’m glad you’re alive. I will always be glad that you’re alive, but why her? You looked at Flickerman and thought before you spoke. You could’ve talked about me and you didn’t. Maybe it was a strategy. Maybe you took this as your chance to finally address feelings you’d harbored for Katniss. I don’t know, and I guess I’ll never know. Regardless of what the reason is, I want you to be as happy as you can be as a victor coming out of the games and if that’s with Katniss, then it’s with Katniss. I’ve never been one to care about the opinions of others, but when you have grown adults making fun of the fact that your boyfriend left you the second he could and commenting in passing about how you left and then used the games as a matchmaking service…I’d look like a fool to ever be seen holding your hand in public again, even if I want nothing more than to do just that.

I will forever be proud of you for what you accomplished. You fought so well and demonstrated your abilities physically, artistically, and mentally in the arena, but what you said in your interview was so shortsighted and rash that I don’t feel it’s something you and I can come back from. I don’t know if I’d ever be able to lay next to you again without wondering what was truly going on in your head in those few seconds of hesitation before you began to profess your love to Katniss.

I love you, Peeta and I will always love you…and I thought you loved me. I just hope that you don’t harbor any negative feelings towards me when you read this. Know that this was not a sudden decision and that it took the entirety of the games to finish because it was something I never thought I’d write. I hope that when you think of the time we spent together, it’s a positive memory and that you can hold them near and dear to you even though Katniss is now in your life. I know that happiness, for me, will at least for now be laying under the stars with you and dreaming of a day that we don’t have to worry about our names being pulled out of those bowls. You’d tell me how beautiful my eyes were and how you never wanted the sun to come up so you could stay in that particular moment forever. You will always be my first love and there will always be a place for you in my heart. I hope your future is as safe and as happy as you dreamed it would be.

Yours,

Y/N

You didn’t even know at what point that you’d began to cry even harder. All you knew was that you could feel a draft on your face and the moisture had dripped onto the top of your shirt. You’d started grieving him the night of the reaping, fearing he would not return. However, the actual grieving process began the night of the interview, knowing that even if he returned, he may never actually return to you. Everything had only begun to come to a head in the grass that night as the sun went down behind Sherbert skies and the void of the night sky took over your vision.

You were so lost in thought that you didn’t hear footsteps coming up from your left side. It was only when you heard a familiar voice say your name that you sat up and turned around, a delayed gasp escaping your lips.

“Peeta?!” You looked at him and took him in in the virtually non-existent light. You couldn’t make out much about his appearance aside from his white shirt and the familiar piece of white paper in his hand.

“I…I…” he looked unsettled, scared even, “I can explain everything, but not here.”

“What?”

“Meet me back in Victor’s Village in an hour. Don’t let anyone see you.”

Something in his tone made your anxiety spike. Your heart was pounding and your stomach was turning. Whatever was happening was not good.

You hesitated before agreeing to meet him, watching as he turned and headed back in the opposite direction. You walked back around the front and entered your house.

“So, what pathetic excuse did he give you?” your mother asked.

You shrugged, “He wasn’t home. Haymitch said he’d be back in a little while, so I’m going to go back…”

“This is entirely too much effort for the boy that just decided to throw away two years with you on television.”

“He…” 

You fell quiet. You couldn’t even think of any explanation for Peeta’s behavior, but you hoped to have one soon. You walked back to Victor’s Village around forty-five minutes later, your heart pounding in your chest. What had him acting so timid and scared? This wasn’t like him at all.

You stepped up on his front porch and knocked on the door only for him to answer it almost immediately and let you inside.

“Peeta, what the hell is going on?” You couldn’t stop the thought from coming out. You were truly at wit's end and you just wanted answers. Your eyes fell on the boy. His face crumbled slightly.

“I…We…” he looked away, staring at the floor and then back up at you, “We can’t be together anymore. I’m so sorry.”

You sighed, your throat feeling tight again, “I…I figured, but…like…were you always interested in Katniss or?”

He shook his head, “I was never interested in Katniss. I’m not interested in her now. Y/N, I’m in love with you. I want you so fucking bad, but, I can’t…they’ll…they’ll hurt you. If they found out it’s all a lie, we’d all die.”

You stepped closer to the blonde as his face flushed and tears began to spill from the corners of his eyes, “Peeta, baby, what are you talking about?”

You reached up to wipe his tears and he leaned into your touch ever-so-slightly, “I lied about Katniss because I wanted to gain us sponsors and I just… wanted to try and get out of there…and we did, but Katniss told me that the Capitol is suspicious of us and that if we’re not selling this…we’re going to die and if I stay with you and get caught…they’ll just kill you to get you out of the way. It’s not safe for you to be around me anymore. I love you and I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

You took a hard swallow as you tried to process what he was saying. He was now trapped in a fake relationship with Katniss or else the Capitol is going to kill the both of them and possibly anyone they love. You tried to find words, but there were none. What is there to say to that?

“I’m so sorry. I fucked up and I’m so fucking sorry.” He reached up and brushed a piece of hair out of your eyes.

“You…didn’t. You did what you had to to survive. You kept your promise to me…” You said softly, your voice still shaking through each word, “It was just..never supposed to end like this.”

“I know.” He said solemnly, “I wanted to come home, move into this house, and let you come over whenever you wanted until you eventually moved in. I wanted to protect you for the next two years…giving your family bread and money and whatever to keep you from having to put your name in that bowl any more than it has to be. I wanted to marry you…and maybe one day, when it’s safer, we can…but…until then, I can’t risk it. If we keep this up and the Capitol catches wind of it, you’ll be reaped next year, no questions about it.”

“It’s a quarter quell…”

“It doesn’t matter! In my eyes, that makes it even more dangerous because, for all we know, they could eliminate the one male, one female rule and put you and Prim, Katniss’ sister in there.” He was momentarily silent, “I cannot mentor you and then watch you die.”

“We could run…��

“We won’t make it but a little bit past the gate. There’s Peacekeepers everywhere.”

“Then we die together.”

His face grew stern, “I am not watching you die.”

Your bottom lip quivered, “If it’s ever safe again, will you come back to me?”

“There’s no coming back. I will always be yours.” He reached down and took your hands in his, placing a kiss on your knuckles, “But if that time ever comes…then, yeah…I promise…and that’s one I know I can keep.” 

“I’m going to miss you forever.” she said, “I never thought that this was how the games would take you from me.”

“I know…but…just don’t forget about me, okay? Even if you move on..”

“I could never forget about you…even if I wanted to…I’d always think about you.”

With that, he leaned in and pressed one last kiss to your lips, pouring the feelings he’d expressed to you countless times over the last two years into it, his hands cupping your face gently as your hands went to his waist. It was the kiss that you should’ve shared after the reaping and the first kiss you’d shared since he’d been home…except this time, the kiss was your last.

It's hard not to find it all a little bittersweet

And lookin' back on all of that, it's nice to believe…

[sasagehoes]

MOONAGE DAYDREAM

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐕;; 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐟𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐜! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⭒˚☽ ✴︎˚｡⋆;; More friends and a lot more misteries, life is just getting better but will that last? After all we have only just begun

1976-1981

masterlist | series masterlist | Ao3 link

previous chapter | next chapter

a/n: This takes place on the events before, during and after the wizarding war, this series is part of a series, which will tackle more of the events in the golden trio era, the reader is hispanic but i couldnt care less if you're not, this is for everyone! [translations will be given]. English is not my first language, so i apologise for any grammar mistakes. I hope you enjoy!

wc: 6.6k

CW: foul language /Walburga slight xenophobia/suggestive jokes/suggestive scenarios

The sun was setting behind Godric's Hollow as you all apparated back to the Potter’s residence, as soon as you all landed on the living room, Remus started talking about how ‘groovy’ his parents were, especially his mum. How she's such a great cook, always has her garden in order, and how well she is with animals. “She’d love you” he said looking back to throw you a smile whilst he packed his last bags, containing his newly bought school supplies, “I tend to have that effect on mom’s” you say with a matching expression. Effie’s laughter was heard from the kitchen.

Everything now officially packed and in order, you and the marauders stared at the Floo entrance waiting for the Lupin’s, “Are they getting here soon, Moony?” Sirius asked, clearly anxious to see the two, Remus sighed “You guys seem in such a hurry for me to get up and go” Sirius smirked at his friend “what made you think of that àillean?” {darling}.

James just laughed as Remus, who was rather flushed, grabbed the nearest candlestick ready to throw it at Sirius when suddenly the floo entrance was heard and an instant “Remus John Lupin put that down” Hope said sternly, a smile betraying her words. He rushed to where his parents stood and hugged them as if he hadn't seen them less than three days ago.

Monty hurried to the living room to greet them and Effie was soon to follow, “Lyall, Hope! So happy to see you two” Monty said with a big smile, going to hug both of them “I hope John didn't cause you any trouble” he said in a jokingly manner, looking at Remus sideways

“ Oh please, Lyall, you know that kid is a saint!” Effie said, giggling while squishing Remu’s cheek, making him fluster. “I believe this is yours love” Hope said, handing the candle stick to Euphemia.

“Would you guys like to eat before you see yourselves out?” Monty asked the Lupin’s to which Lyall had to refuse saying something along the lines of them having already eaten and had food ready for Remus at home. Not that you were paying too much attention to the conversation, too distracted thanks to Hope’s voice.

“And who might this be?” Hope asked with a bright smile, her eyes moving to meet yours. “Oh! she is our goddaughter, she’ll be attending Hogwarts starting this semester” Effie replied

“I see!, well nice to meet you young lass, im Hope, and this is my husband Lyall” she said pointing to her husband “‘Ello” he replied plainly, but in a pleasant way

You introduced yourself while offering a handshake to both of them, not really used to so much human interaction in less than 72 hours. “Well!” Hope clasped her hands “I think it's time to go home, don't you think sweetie, go get your stuff. Your poor dad’s back can't with all that”

“My back is just fine” he grumbled, making Remus and James give him a look, which he just smiled at. “Again thank you again for everything you two, see you at the station boys, do take care” she said, entering the floo “Oh and you too dear! See ya soon” And just like that, they were gone

You turned to look at James and Sirius, “They seem so nice!” Sirius couldn't agree more. They were both so calm and understanding, even in the worse scenarios

You turned to look at Sirius, expecting him to say something along the lines about going to pack his bags so you opted to talk instead. “Sirius?” you asked. He only hummed

“Are your parents picking you up now, or will you meet them at the train station tomorrow?” His smile dropped, and Jame’s smile turned sour. “Neither” he replied with a mix of sadness and rage, “Oh,then when will you see them?” You asked once more, not noticing James body language, telling you to stop. “Well kids! I think it’s time to go to bed now, tomorrow is a very exciting day for a certain someone” Euphemia said looking at you before she continued “So you two go to bed,and you dear i'm gonna give you some great advice for your days in Hogwarts”

Sirius stood up and walked out of the living room, Euphemia laid a soothing hand on his shoulder and said something in his ears. James looked at you with an expression that you couldn't really name. You tried to say goodnight, but it fell on deaf ears as they both went up the stairs. Effie went up to you and pointed at the sofa, offering you to sit down once more. “Dear, I know it was not your intention, but try to refrain from talking about his family in front of him, we are his family now, alright?” You nodded “I guess I should've been more mindful, I'll apologize in the morning”.

She smiled tenderly, “Don't beat yourself over it too much, go to bed and sleep well, tomorrow might be a little overwhelming for you” Kissing the top of your head she bid you goodnight, and you left for your room.

Euphemia waited for you to go up the stairs and for the door to close, and stood up from the couch so fast her knees popped. She walked to the back garden, where she saw her husband with his head back, staring languidly at the stars on the wooden bench. She sat next to him and held his hand in hers, snapping him out of his trance

“Mi vida, I'm sorry my mind is not where it should be” he said, looking at her with tear brimmed eyes.

She squished his hand firmly “Is it about Ronan?” The question was barely above a whisper, just saying his name made them realize that life is fleeting.

He only nodded. Even if it's once a month, Ronan always crossed their minds, and now more than ever, a constant reminder of his existence re entered their lives. He took off his glasses, trying to disguise his tears, and Euphemia could only tear up at the sight. Fleamont was sensitive and kindhearted, one of the many reasons why she fell in love with him, but seeing his walls crack and fall to the ground made her feel helpless.

“I think we should t-” she spoke not long before Fleamont interrupted Her. “Carmen would kill us if she could, you know that my love” it was now his turn to squeeze her hand, running his thumb in a reassuring manner.

“I know, but she'll find out soon. What do we do then” she looked him in the eyes, trying to find solace behind them. “When she does, we'll be there for her, but it's not our call to make, the one that did is no longer with us”. To no avail.

Morning came, and most of your suitcases were locked and loaded next to the entrance. No one was awake just yet, but you. You had pancakes on the stove, and some berries picked and cut on a yellow bowl next to the jug of orange juice on the counter. Following a simple recipe that you once saw on the television, you battered up some whipped cream. Before you heard the door of the rooms open, the table was served.

Effie walked down the stairs with a smile on her face as she saw you cleaning up the kitchen. “Now this is a lovely surprise” her face was beaming, looking at the pancakes with sugary white powder on top and berries adoring the sides. She went to sit on the chair that had an extra pancake on the plate, but before she could grab a fork, you intervened.

“Sorry Effie, that one's for Sirius.. you know as an apology of sorts” Your eyes were trained on the floor, embarrassment in your features. She just smiled at you and sat in another chair.

Like mother, like daughter, she thought.

“Don't you worry dear, these look scrumptious!”

She had almost finished when suddenly James came running down the stairs before halting at the middle, “Blimey!” With that, he ran back to his room and came back with his glasses on. Behind him was a groggy Sirius with a serious case of bedhead.

James went up to kiss his mom's cheek and sat down next to her, Sirius sat next him and smiled when Monty, who had come down not long after them, fixed his unruly hair. Flemont kissed his wife good morning and sat down.

“You cooked this?” James asked you while chewing in a piece of the pancake. You nodded after taking a sip of orange juice.

“It's really good” Sirius added, looking at you

“Hey! Why does he get three, and I get two” James whined after seeing his friend's plate

You just shrugged “I made one extra, I guess, should have sat in that chair dimwit”. James placed his hand dramatically against his chest and gasped, making the adults laugh. “Alright kids, let's get going, we have to get to the station, up up!” Effie ushered you all out of the chairs and up the stairs.

You packed some things that were missing as well as some clothes Effie gave you. After a while, you were interrupted by a knock on the door, by the doorway stood Sirius with his leather jacket on and a small backpack decorated with more muggle band pins. “Hey, just wanted to say thanks for breakfast, and about the whole parent thing last night, don't worry about it, yeah?” His voice was calm, but the way He toyed with his cuticle said otherwise

You held two thumbs up and smiled “Do you need help packing something, or are you guys all set?” You ask him, closing the latch of your briefcase. He stopped leaning on the door frame and scoffed “James is still trying to pack his bloody books” You chuckled and went to their shared room. There, James stood, all the books and new supplies splayed across his bed, and at least his clothes were packed.

“Come on James time to pack, we leave in ten” you say with a hand on his shoulder, “Mom will chase me down the house if she sees I forgot to pack” he said with a breathy laugh and started organizing all the books in ways that would let the other fit as well.

After a couple of minutes of playing with the space, all his bags were done and laid in front of the main entrance, all ready to leave. As you all waited, Fleamont and Euphemia came down the stairs in their casual attire. “I don't want to receive any messages from any of you saying you left something home, alright?” Fleamont said with his eyes squinted, you all nodded

“Come here very quick dear” Monty whispered before pulling a pair of gloves from his pockets. “People frown upon blood magic, don't try to explain, no lo entenderán, no one will question it now because the weather calls for gloves, yet once it gets more humid they'll start asking questions” He paused and started to slide said gloves on your hands, carefully, not wanting to open up any scabs. “If anyone, I mean it, anyone, bothers you for it you call me or Euphemia, understood?” You nodded firmly, looking at his eyes, then hugged him. Euphemia could only smile at the sight. Just before any tears could start flowing, she cleared her throat and spoke “Alright then, off we go”

You all quickly grabbed your bags and apparated to a train station somewhere in Britain, Sirius had explained that this was a normal train station, not everyone was a witch or a wizard,you'd think if five people just showed up out of thin air on a semi crowded station people who've only seen magic behind a screen would be astonished, scared even. But no, no one even batted an eye, everyone minded their own business, too engrossed in their own things, maybe if people paid more attention to their surroundings, more would believe in magic.

Monty and Effie wanted to stay and bid you all farewell insisting that being late to work once isn't that big of a deal but you kept saying it would be alright and Sririus said something along the lines of “ what a great example you are giving us” with a smug smirk, with that thy left and kissed the foreheads of all of you and apparated back, not before giving you your ticket.

“We’re going to go find our friends so you can meet them, alright? Don't move an inch” Sirius said, trying to stifle a laugh and James, not seeming to catch the hint, looked at him worriedly pointing at the ticket, but he just grabbed his hand and bolted out running “What about the ticket man?” “Lets see if she gets it shh”

So there you stood, two carts filled with equipment with no owners and a ticket in your hand

You stood next to a pillar and looked at your ticket, looked at the station number in front of you, then back at the ticket. “What the fuck?” you muttered

“You’re not gonna find it by looking at the signs. After all, they were designed by muggles” a voice said behind you. You looked towards the direction the voice came from, expecting to find Sirius’s face accompanied by his smirk, but instead, your eyes were met with…one of the creepy ones, with a woman next to him. Your face turned sour.

“I thought i told you to back-”

“Mother, this is the person I mentioned to you about after our trip to Diagon” he interrupted, causing you to scowl at him.

The woman next to him looked at you, and her unamused face quickly turned into a smile, fake as fake can be.

“Pleasure to meet you, Miss. Rouge, I do hope we become acquainted” she said

You blinked twice as all the high society manners, learned in infancy, came back to you in a matter of seconds. “The pleasure is mine Lady….Oh you must forgive me! I'm so forgetful with surnames, but it truly is a pleasure to finally meet you” Your comment seemed to have taken her back.

“Our family’s name is hard to forget, yet I do understand that it must be unusual, given from…where you come from” try as she might, the disgust on her face was palpable.

‘What a bitch’ you thought

“Our house is but the most ancient and noble, House of Black” she continued

oh.

“I’ll make sure to remember this time, Lady Black. This has been lovely but I must get going, it was great to see you again…friend” you say in a plain manner, ready to turn on your heel to go find your friends until you heard her speak again.

“Regulus, do help her find her way to the train will you” she said sternly

“Yes mother” With that, he took your cart and left without giving you a say in anything. He kept walking with your cart quite fast, making it hard for you to catch up. “Hey! Could you stop, i'm not supposed to move. I'm waiting for friends” You barked at him, yet he showed no signs of stopping. “Hey!” You yelled once more, and he halted, thinking he finally listened to you, you sighed. “We have arrived”

Arrived where? What the actual fuck is wrong with these people?

Your apparent destination was a brick wall. Lovely.

“Go straight into that wall, and you'll find the train” he said, grey irises look at you. You laughed “Look man i know you don't like me, but I'm not that stupid.. I don't want a concussion”

He rubbed his temple exhausted. “I hope Pandora is wrong ‘cause you are unbearable, just follow instructions and get lost, I have friends to find and I don't fancy missing the train”

“You know what, fine, go look for the others weirdos” “How original” he scoffed as he walked away

You decided to just do what he said. What's the worst that could happen? Embarrassment? Concussion? Please.

You grabbed the cart and ran as fast as you could through the bricked wall, praying to all the gods to let this be true and not get seriously injured in the process.

Guess they listened!

You opened your eyes once again, and there you stood, in front of a beautiful red train. Hundreds of kids bidding farewell to their parents and a couple crying at the thought of leaving once more. Entering the train, you put your belongings in the compartments and walked to try and find a booth to sit in.

You went past at least three full booths and one who seemed to fit one more passenger, but those two were quite busy, to say the least , Lovely reunions all around. Still no Marauders in sight.

Your search ended when you found one that had two sleeping students, so quietly you slide open the doors and sit on the opposite side of them

As soon as you sat down the girl woke up, scaring the soul out of you, her eyes were groggy, as was her voice once she spoke “You're that new student” voiced in more of a statement than a question

“Straight to the point I see” you said unfazed. Her eyes met yours, pupils wide and intensely set on reading you. The color reminded you of the blue of the sea back home

Pretty

“Dalia, you know it's wrong to stare” the previously sleeping boy spoke, breaking the tension. Pulling her back from her staring contest before continuing “I apologize for her conduct, she hates train rides, so she took some - muggle magic if you know what I mean” his Irish accent thick

You chuckled “I see, make sure she gets some water after the magic wears down” He nodded “Will do”

“My name is Soren, by the way. Nice to meet you” he extended his hand, and you shaked it, introducing yourself. “It's very rare for Hogwarts to receive exchange students this late into the school year”

“So I've heard” you say with a sigh and placing your carry on by your side. “What houses are you two in?” you asked genuinely, trying to keep conversation going.

Soren's eyes sparkled “I love this question!” he almost shrieked, “Gods have mercy on you now” his sister groaned, her head laid back against the train's seat, opening her eyes enough to glare at him.

Soren only rolled his eyes and leaned forward, elbows on his knees and hands supporting his head. “We are both Hufflepuff, which is so strange for our family, the Selwyn’s. They're all Slytherins”

“Which totally didn't cost us half of their wealth and properties” Dalia spoke, still laid back, but her words had some vermin laced in them. “That's not something that matters when you can choose your own path, is it” he turned his head to look at his sister. She opened one eye and scoffed “Sod off”

“Funniest thing is that Hufflepuffs are usually very bubbly and outgoing but little miss sunshine over her’ is quite the opposite” he pointed at his sister with a smile. She switched positions, making her body face the window before muttering a faint “whatever”

“Why is being in a different house than all your family cause such a problem” Your voice sounds confused, and Soren almost forgot you are not from around here

“Right well it's difficult to explain in such a short train ride” he scratched the back of his head, chuckling. “Scaoil é” {drop it}

Dalia grunted from her place in the booth. You decided to stop asking questions, feeling the atmosphere turn a little sour. Soren, on the other hand, tried to make it lighter. “I hear the trolley, I totally recommend the chocolate frogs. They're divine” he said, pointing at the door. You saw an old lady pushing a small trolley cart filled with sweets and chips. You opened the booth to buy some treats, getting four chocolate frogs and a bag of crisps. After paying you heard a low ‘psst psst’ from across the hall, it was a blonde girl with smokey black eyeshadow.

You pointed your finger at yourself, asking if she was talking to you, and she nodded. You tossed some sweets to Soren with a smile and went up to the girls. She tossed her arm around you “Pleasure to meet you lovely, im Marlene” her voice was like, If caffeine and nicotine met..so energetic. “Hiya, I don't believe we've met before” you ask, puzzled, not really pushing off her arm. She walked you to god knows where, but you follow anyway.

“Nope! But the guys told me all about ya” She said smiling “Good thing knowing there's gonna be another girl ‘round”

It finally clicked, the other Gryffindor friends!

You introduced yourself to the blonde and had some casual banter before ending It in front of

a booth, she opened it and there they were.

Remus, Sirius, James, and what you would've guessed was Peter.

“Brought you the parcel mate, Pay up” she signaled Sirius, which he just rolled his eyes at her audacity “I got money for one butterbeer for each Hogsmeade trip Marl” he whined. “So much for being from an outstanding family Master Black” she rolled her eyes “Does anyone in this train know what the word disowned means?”

“Long time no see dove” Remus smiled at you. You waved and said hello to the rest of the boys, still intertwined with Marlene. “Te dije que ibas a hacer amigos rápido!” {I told you'd make friends quickly}" James exclaimed, and you could only laugh. He put his hand on the smaller boy beside him and shook him “This is the Marauder you haven't met yet! Peter, this is Y/n, Y/n. This is Peter. You shook the boy's hand, and he happily reciprocated the action.

“Pleasure to meet you. These three scallywags almost cried when they couldn't find ya” he chuckled. You placed your free hand on your hip “If they hadn't let me to my own devices..”

“I like her attitude!” Marlene smiled

A tap was heard from behind you, there Llily sat tapping at the glass door of the booth with a contagious grin, once she catched your attention she slid the door open. “So happy to see you again, lovely!” she spoke, voice full of glee. “I was starting to wonder where you were, Lily!” you replied, matching her energy. “Rule of thumb, wherever you see these four sodding idiots-” she pointed at the Marauders “You'll see us” she pointed at her and Marlene. She chuckled and paused abruptly. “Lils, where the hell did Cas go?” she asked the red head, who answered with a shrug.

“She's probably out there talking with the lunatics she calls her friends” he scoffed, slumping down on the chair. “Padfoot, play nice” Remus said sternly, causing him to roll his eyes. “Who’s Cas?” You asked, “She’s the friend we told you about, that has friends in other houses, not just Slytherin” he reminded Sirius. “I bloody got it!” he exclaimed with his arms in the air. “I would go fetch her, but last time I went near em, that bastard Crouch had the nerve to hiss at me” Marlene said with a groan. “Just let her be. It's not a crime” Peter chimed in.

“Come sit with us! We have to give you some very juicy gossip, so you won't be daft on the important stuff” Marlene said with a wink, finally leaving your side, not that you minded. “Sure! Just let me get my backpack, Soren is holding it right now” you beam, but their looks of worry don't escape you “Everything alright?” You ask, Remus coughed “Soren Selwyn?” he asked, and you nodded. “Careful with those two, he’s great, but his sister– she’s something alright” Lily added

You just hummed “I'll keep it in mind, thanks” and off you went.

Not far away from their booths sat two ravens and two snakes all while Dorcas, a Phoenix, leaned by their booths's door listening in

“You can keep her for all I care” said Regulus, not looking away from his journal, pen still in thought. The comment aimed at Dorcas.

“Be nice Reg” Pandora hissed, peeking her head through to see your figure down the hall. “She's all acquainted with the feathered bastards” Evan said, causing Barty and Pandora to give him a look. “Y'know what I mean, there's no chance she'll hang around us now” he continued. Dorcas spoke, “Who said we couldn't share idiot”

You sat the rest of the ride next to the blonde and the redhead as they told you about all the gossip, ranging from the latest fashion scandal to which teachers were having affairs with their spouses with fellow professors. Time flew like the wind in that booth, and soon enough, the train took a violent stop, causing you to yelp and the girls to laugh. “You get used to it at some point Marlen laughed and palmed at your back, Everyone was up and walking to the nearest exits when you spotted who you presumed was Dorcas run down the passageways to reach the girls “Sorry i guess i got carried away” she giggled and Marlene smiled at her, “no hard feelings c’mon let's go!” she said, handing her the bag with her name embroidered on the front pocket. Dorcas looked at you and smirked before going back to Marlene and exiting the train

“You ready?” asked James with a warm smile.

Stepping down the train, you stood amazed, there it stood before you, a gorgeous castle like campus, brown and worn down from age but just as beautiful as any other. “Pretty cool, huh?” Sirius smiled beside you. Your eyes started to water at the thought of your mother seeing you now, where she studied all those years ago, suddenly all your belongings showed up in front of you in a trolley, then came the carriages being pulled by what could only be described as undead horses, black and grey in color with gray cloudy eyes. “How has no one died of a heart attack by those” you say, pointing at the horse. Remus just laughed “Are self moving carts that terrifying?” You looked at him dumbfounded “It's this another prank of yours?” You laughed uneasy, and he looked at you as if you said something funny and bent down to adjust the straps on the trolley so none of your items would fall.

You went over and caressed the snout of the horse huffing in front of you, not quite catching the look that Pandora gave you from a safe distance

“See, she's not so different from us, Evan. She’s seen death” Evan stayed silent

Now inside of the school, you could see all the students in all their glory, some hugging their friends, some younger running around the halls and a very busy couple huddled up behind a column, “Do Frank and Alice know that public indecency is a school violation and also a crime?” Peter spoke with an annoyed expression.

“That's only if they expose their naughty bits, rat boy” a very familiar voice speaks, winking at you as he walks away “Lock your dorm tonight, you bastard!” yelled the boy, his face red as a beet

“Don’t listen to that nutcase. He’s got some screws loose” you say to Peter, “tell me about it” he says with a roll of his eyes.

“Chop chop, students! Everyone in their robes, dinner shall start soon, punctuality is very important!” A woman with the stereotypical witch hat hollered in the rowdy halls, “That’s Minerva McGonagall, we call her Minnie, just don't say it to her face” Sirius commented “We have come to the conclusion that she might just be immortal, my dad’s grandfather was taught by her” James snickered

“Potter! I'm glad the New Year’s feast has made you so full of jokes, but i'm sure i mentioned that punctuality is what we proud ourselves in this fine school” Suddenly she was behind you making James jump out of his skin “Yes Minnie- i mean! Ms. McGonagall " took a stroll around the gardens and came back. “I expect the Gryffindor table to be full this afternoon. Miss Rouge. I ask you to stay away from trouble, these rascals attract it like magnets! Welcome to our school nonetheless,” She says with such class after just reprimanding the boy.

“Thankyou Ms.” You smile at her, and she leaves, not long before screaming “Mr. Longbottom! I hope this doesn't become the norm this year. Do not run young man!” causing everyone around to start snickering

After being pulled by Lily to the nearest bathroom to change into the robes, not before putting a locking spell on all your belongings saying something about “we may be wizard and witches, but greed still exists “ You don't know what you expected for the restrooms, but they were indeed just normal toilets. You adjusted the shirt and skirt in front of the mirror before putting on the robe. You saw Lily put on a red and yellow tie and had to ask “How do I get one of those?”

“Once they put the sorting hat on your head you'll know what colors are best for you, crossing all my fingers it'll be just as mine” she smiled and you could only do the same. Just as you were leaving the bathroom, a head of blonde braided hair passed right beside you. You snapped your head back and were met with a kind smile, it was Pandora, her tie was blue and white “I think blue would suit you quite well” she whispered loud enough for you to hear.

“We’re gonna be late for dinner, c’mon!” You hear Lily say outside the door frame “nice seeing you again Pandora” Short and sweet, and you left.

Running to the entrance of the dinning hall you met with the rest of the Gryffindors everyone was going past the huge wooden doors “Hope you’re hungry” was the only thing James said before ushering you to enter the hall, at the creak of the wood all heads were now looking at your direction, you followed behind Marlene who kept talking about all her mates at the table while all you could hear were whispers from others tables, she took notice at your nerves and takes a breath “Hey don't worry about them, fuckers havent seen a new pretty face in a while” she said with a wink making you let out a flustered chuckle.

You stopped at what you guessed was the Gryffindor table, where Dorcas sat with a leg up in the stool “Look at her! Our newcomer seems to be missing some red on that uniform, don't ya think” she asked Alice next to her “I agree Meadowes” she said with a grin. You went to take a seat, yet you heard an approaching ‘Passing through!’ and countless yelps and plates clattering near the table. “Great, the ghosts are here” Frank rolled his eyes, and you looked at him in disbelief “Ghosts?!”

“Yes, Ghosts! There's plenty in Hogwarts” a translucent man says in front of you before getting all in your face “Get used to it!” You jumped back at the scare “That's Nearly Headless Nick, he's harmless but an asshat” Remus whispered in your ear, “I heard that young man! I am no such thing!I represent this glorious house, and you, young lady, are not from around here!” the ghost exclaimed.

“Why Nearly headless” you regretted asking as soon as it left your lips cause once it did, his neck split nearly horizontally in half, hanging by a measly thread “oh”

“Nick just let her sit here, she'll get her house soon” whined Marlene “No can do, Dumbledore asked me to fetch her, she's taking a test of sorts” his voice chivalrous as ever. “They aren't bringing the hat out?” asked James dumbfounded “The hat is not to be disturbed. She'll be brought to the hat” “Vago de mierda” he huffed {lazy piece of shit}

You walked out of the dinning hall next to the ghost, hearing from behind you a loud “Red and yellow suit you best!”

The Ghost guided you through the endless halls of Hogwarts, passing classrooms and rooms he said wer out of order or our of reach for students, the so called tour ended at the third floor, in front of you stood a grand gargoyle the size of a giant “off we go young lady” he said as he went through the wall and you just stood there, did he really expect you could do that too??

Needless to say that he came back and muttered the words “Sherbert Lemon” and the gargoyle moved to show a pair of stone stairs, he ushered you to go in and wished you good luck before the gargoyle closed the entrance behind you as you went up. The stairs soon came to an end, and you stood in front of the office, books flying gracefully around the room, shining bottles of potions decorating the shelves.

“Ms. Rouge, I take it” a voice called out from the chair behind the desk. You gulped as nervousness engulfed your body and answered “Yes, i came her for some sort of exam”

The chair turned, and there he was, Albus Dumbledore beard as grand as one can be and stoic as ever. “That is correct, the exam shall determine your skills as a witch” he stood up and started walking around his personal library, taking out books and potion materials “After which will tell me in what year you shall be placed” He placed some ingredients on top of his desk and looked at you “Make two potions with any of these you have 10 minutes” He set a sand clock as soon as his words left his mouth.

You looked at the array of ingredients, some you've never seen in your life, others more common like fruits. After seeing some Asian dragon hair, you instantly remembered Fleamonts lesson on how to get ones hair to look amazing. Quickly, you grabbed the petroleum jelly, the dragon hair, and the gomas barbadensis. You mixed it all in a bowl, smashing it to a thick paste and set it aside for your next potion.

You looked at everything once again, trying to come up with any simple potion that could be made in the 4 minutes you had left. It clicked. Aging potion!

You grabbed some Newt spleens the slithering orange snake and some green leafs, “sorry lil guy” you whisper to the snake as you cut their head off and dump it to the pile of ingredients, next you smush everything up to an orange mush…its supposed to be green. Your time was running out, but you remembered that it involved a common fruit, so you quickly added four slices of apple to the mix, and it changed from an off orange to a deep aquamarine..shit.

The sand clock emptied its top side, and Dumbledore came to inspect your potions

“Very quick thinking, Ms. Rouge yet i was expecting some more practical potions, nevertheless the Sleekeazy potion would be very well executed if it wasn't for the fact that instead of Asian dragon hair you instead added European dragon hair, which would give the opposite effect we are looking for, the Ageing potion on the other hand, was wrong, not only were the quantities of each ingredient were wrong but the correct fruit is bananas not apples”

To say you were disappointed in yourself was an understatement, but there was still hope. The next test was a spell test. You took out your wand and performed a set of simple yet advanced spells such as Aqua Eructo, Aparecium, and Confringo on a poor cockroach who just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Next was something you’ve barely heard of, Divination. The test consisted of the headmaster telling you an array of dreams and nightmares, and you had to decipher. Once you got your final score, it came out a whopping twenty percent! The astrology part was rather easy, your mother had taught you some interesting facts about this, making your score improve in this area.

The other subjects were walks in the park, already being quite versed in Charms, Astronomy, and History of Magic, which made the scores on those well-rounded one hundreds. Once all was finished, you were left exhausted, hair disheveled, and eyes tired. “I have come to the decision that you will be taking every class apar with the fifth years except Potions and Divination, this will be with the fourth years given your disadvantage with the subjects, if you get someone from the fifth year to tutor you and your teacher and I see any progress, i'll see it that you go to your respective year”

You nodded already dreaming of the comfort of the mattress, as soon as he finished his sermon the door to the office opened and in came McGonagal with a smile on her face “I'm sure we’re eager to get our house now?” she asked, looking at you, and you only nodded sleepily. She went to a shelf and took a brown hat, worn down by time, and you were sure it smelled of deviled eggs. “I'm sure it's too early to be doing this once again, don't you think?!” The hat spoke. The hat spoke. Why are you even surprised anymore?

She turned the hat to face you, and you were sure you saw the indents that were meant to be his eyes widened. “Exchange student! How exotic” She placed it on your head and it started humming “I can sense the passion and loyalty, yet the determination is more prominent, hmmm ambitious enough to use those transcripts, Salazar would be proud!, purpureus pluvia was it?” it asked “Shut it” you retorted

“Such character! Slytherin it is!” it exclaimed, and it was removed from your head in an instant “There we go young lady, Slytherin it is! Your colored uniform will be displayed in your dorm room once you get there”

Outside the headmaster's office were the Marauders who watched with confusion as Pandora more or less dragged Barty and Evan to their current spot with Regulus walking behind them, face uninterested as always

Evan scowled at the sight of the Gryffindors “The bloody hell these wankers doin’ here” he said “Dorcas control your dog” James snapped back making the girl stifle her laugh. “Probably set someone's pants on fire at the welcome back dinner” Barty scoffed.

“I'll keep that in my list for when we visit the Ravenclaw dorms,” Sirius said with a smirk, leaning on the wall.

“Careful now, pranks led by you are not the Marauders strongest suit’s” Regulus said, glaring at Sirius. Before Remus could say anything, the door opened. You looked around, the tension palpable. You looked at Pandora and her fellow observers, it wasn't her that made you mad but the other three that just would not stop making snarky remarks “I’ve told you four to stop or did I not?” You spoke, completely ignoring your friends.

“Hmm, I don't recall” Barty said, index finger on top of his lips, he was mocking you.

“Don't start you two” Pandora sighed

“What house?” asked Regulus

“Wouldn’t you like to know jackass?” You barked back, Barty only cackled.

“Leave it” James said from behind you before continuing “What house did the hat tell you?” “Slytherin” the disappointment in your voice was evident.

Pandora and Regulus looked at each other with a matching smirk, You slowly turned around as you heard the following phrase come out of Barty “Guess you’re coming with us Treasure”

The Selwyn’s ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

TAGLIST: @barnesandmetal @etyaty

!! Thank you so much for getting this far. I can't wait to continue this series!! lf you'd like to be added to the taglist,let me know

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ DO NOT;; RE-UPLOAD, TRANSLATE NOR COPY MY WORKS!! This belongs to;; -SASAGEHOES

[waitimcomingtoo]

Broke His Heart Cause He Was Nice

Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader

Synopsis: the games are over now and Peeta finds out your relationship was all an act

Masterlist

It was the day you were finally set to arrive back home in District 12 after completing your victory tour for winning the games. You’d been anxiously waiting for this day and wanting nothing more than to trade the makeup and tight dresses for your boots and own bed. The train was running late, ironic considering how fast it was, and you were too anxious to sit still. You noticed a pathway near the train platform and longed to be alone with your thoughts in nature.

“I’m gonna take a walk while we wait for the train.” You announced. Effie sighed and shut her compact mirror before looking at you.

“I suppose that’s all right. But don’t go too far. We board in 15 minutes.” She reminded you. You nodded and started to walk away when Peeta stood up.

“Can I come with you?” He asked. You gulped and forced a smile before nodding your head.

“Always.” You told him. He smiled back and walked beside you as you headed down the walkway together. Your hand bumped against Peeta’s as you looked up at the trees around you. As soon as he slipped his hand into yours, you felt tremendous guilt fill your stomach. You were yet to address the nature of your relationship now that the games were over. You had blurred the lines so much between faking a relationship for the camera and navigating your true feelings for Peeta that you had no idea where you stood now. Peeta saw the uneasy look on your face and let go of your hand to walk ahead. He picked some flowers for you and handed you the bouquet he had arranged.

“For you.” He blushed as he presented them to you.

“Oh.” You smiled in surprise. “Thank you.”

Peeta returned the smile before continuing to walk down the pathway. You watched him as he walked, feeling like the distance between you was matching the distance you felt inside.

“I can’t believe we’re actually going to be back in District 12 tomorrow. I really didn’t think we’d ever see it again.” Peeta said as he continued to stroll along the flowerbeds.

“Neither did I.” You admitted, making Peeta stop. He turned around and looked at you for a long time, making you uncomfortable in the silence.

“What do we do once we get back?” He asked as he earnestly stared into your eyes. He looked just as lost as you were and you wished you could give him some answers.

“I guess we try to forget.” You answered, making Peeta’s eyes soften.

“I don’t want to forget.” He said quietly. You stared into his eyes as you guilt built up and up until it threatened to spill out your throat. Before you could say anything more, you heard a voice behind you.

“Hey. There you two are.” Haymitch said as he approached. “You guys should be proud of yourselves. I’ve seen a lot of victory tours but I haven’t heard crowds cheer like that in years. You really sold the whole star-crossed lovers who survived with the power of love thing. Especially you, sweetheart. Keep it up exactly the way you were playing it.”

“Thanks.” You said immediately as your entire face burned in embarrassment. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Peeta’s look of confusion. Haymitch had no idea what he had just done and was too drunk to realize it. He patted your shoulder with a drunken smile and stumbled back to the train.

“What’s he talking about?” Peeta asked as soon as you were alone. You opened your mouth to answer him but found yourself speechless. You knew this moment would come eventually, you just didn’t think it’d happen before you even got a chance to go home.

“What was he talking about? What are you keeping up?” Peeta asked again when you took too long to answer. You looked into Peeta’s eyes and stumbled over a few broken sentences as tears filled your eyes. You didn’t even know why you were crying, you just felt full of emotion over the fact that you knew Peeta’s world was about to shatter. You had grown an immense fondness, even love, for him since the start of all of this and you knew he was about to hate you. Before you could confess the truth, Peeta put it all together. He took a step back from you as his hand went over his mouth.

“Oh my God. It was all an act, wasn’t it?”

Peeta whispered. “The way you behaved in the games wasn’t real. Waking me up with kisses, feeding me, hugging me so tight I could barely breathe. You were just pretending, weren’t you? You did it all for the cameras.”

“Not all of it. Some things were real.” You promised him. “But Haymitch and I knew that if I played up the romance, we’d get more sponsees. And it worked. We did.”

“You and Haymitch had a plan? And you didn’t tell me?” Peeta shouted. He was usually so soft spoken that hearing him yell made you stumbled back in surprise.

“We never officially made a plan.” You tried to explain. “But after I kissed you and we were sent food, I realized that Haymitch was telling me that that’s what we had to do to get sponsors. So I kept doing it. And we kept getting sponsors.”

“I should’ve known.” Peeta shook his head. “I should’ve known you didn’t just happen to fall in love with me.”

“Peeta.” You said tearily as you watched his heart break. You knew he’d be upset, but this was harder than you thought.

“I knew it was too good to be true. You never actually felt the things I felt. You were just playing a part.” Peter said quietly as he wiped his eyes.

“You’re the one who started the romance plot anyway, remember? Why are you mad that I kept it up?” You folded your arms, angry now that he wasn’t seeing your side of things.

“Because I didn’t know there was something to keep up. I didn’t know you and Haymitch had a secret plan behind my back. I was just dumb enough to believe I could actually trust you. How stupid am I?”

“You’re not stupid, Peeta. And you can trust me. You have to understand that I wanted to tell you about it but I couldn’t. There were cameras everywhere. If I told you, everyone watching would’ve known it wasn’t real. I had to keep the illusion. And that meant keeping it a secret from you too.”

“Wasn’t real.” Peeta laughed sadly. “Illusion?”

Your anger subsided for a moment when you heard the pain in his voice. Your choice of words had just thrown salt in his wounds. You stopped trying to win the argument for a moment and realized that you had a right to be angry, but so did he. You walked over to him and cupped his face to make him look at you.

“Peeta, there were so many times I wanted to draw the curtains closed and block the rest of the world out and just be with you. I swear, I did. But we didn’t have that choice. If things were different and we had gotten together in a normal situation, maybe I’d know where my feelings lie. But I don’t, Peeta. I’m sorry.”

“I thought things were going to be different now. I thought something good had come out of the games.” Peeta said as he stared at the ground.

“Things are different.” You insisted.

“Yeah. They definitely are.” Peeta wiped his face and turned away from you so you couldn’t see him cry.

“How can you be mad at me for this? We were strangers before the game. I wasn’t thinking about romance. I was thinking about saving our lives.”

“I know that. In my heart, I know that. I just can’t get it through my head yet. God, I can’t believe you were acting.” Peeta said and stressfully tugged at his hair.

“I know this is upsetting to hear but I wasn’t trying to deceive you. I thought you were acting too.” You protested. “I assumed you knew we had to play up the romance for sponsors and that’s why you kept kissing me and saying the things you did.”

“No. I didn’t know. I was never pretending.” Peeta snapped, making you raise your eyebrows in surprise. He was never one to be quick to anger, so it surprised you that you were having such a hard time getting him to calm down.

“Putting on the act got us both out, okay? There is no other circumstance where we would’ve both come out alive. This was the only way.”

“I know that. I’m sorry. I just wish I knew sooner.” Peeta sighed and sat down on the ground. You looked at him for a minute before looking around and behind you. You wished there was someone, anyone, to tell you what to do in this situation. You wish you had a script or some cards form Effie telling you what to say. Peeta was just sitting on the ground, staring into space, and you had no idea how to bring him back. No one had ever been mad at you in this way before and you didn’t know what to do. Realizing no one was coming to help, you walked over and sat beside Peeta. You could tell he was trying his hardest not to cry but it wasn’t exactly working in his favor. He turned his face away from you and he quietly sniffled.

“If there was a way I could’ve told you, I would’ve.” You said as you placed a hand on his back. Peeta nodded his head and wiped his face before giving you a sad smile.

“I believe you.” He said. You returned the sad smile and rubbed small circles on his back. Peeta stared off into space again while you stared at him. You let silence sit between you for a long time until you broke it.

“Were you really never pretending?” You asked quietly. You saw his mouth tug into a slight smile as he shook his head.

“Never. I meant every word I said.” Peeta said, sounding almost proud. You smiled a little when you thought of all the kind things he had said about you in the cave and how you now knew they were true.

“How much was fake for you?” Peeta asked, breaking you out of your thoughts. He was looking at you now with those puppy dog eyes of his and it made you feel ten times worse.

“I don’t know, Peeta.” You sighed. “I don’t remember every little detail.”

“I do. What about our first kiss? Real or not real?” He asked with a certain desperation in his voice. You cracked a smile in surprise and looked at him.

“Real. I couldn’t bear listening to you talk about dying, so I kissed you to shut you up.” You told him, making him smile as his face turned red.

“I have a feeling you’re forgiving me.” You chuckled and pointed at him, making his smile drop.

“I’m not.” He cleared his throat. “The kisses when you got the broth the first time. Real or not real.”

“Not real. I’m not really the type to wake someone up with kisses.” You said sheepishly.

“I guess I always kind of knew that about you.” Peeta admitted. “What else was fake?”

“When I asked you about your crush on me when we were in the cave. I was trying to get us to have some kind of grand emotional moment because the kisses weren’t cutting it anymore. I needed to go bigger.” You admitted.

“Oh.” Peeta’s face fell. “You didn’t really want to know?”

“I really wanted food.” You confessed. “And I honestly thought you made that story up because you were hungry too. Did your dad really want to marry my mom?”

“Yeah. And he’s not thrilled I told that story, by the way. Apparently it was really quiet in the bakery that night.” Peeta said, making you genuinely laugh for the first time in a while. Peeta couldn’t help but smile when he heard you laughing but wasn’t done with the questions.

“When you said I didn’t have any competition, real or not real?” Peeta asked a a he looked into your eyes.

“That was real.” You replied, and you meant it.

“What about Gale?” Peeta asked, sounding like he didn’t believe you. You looked Peeta up and down

“He’s not your competition.” You laughed like it was silly, making Peeta smile.

“He’s not?” He asked hopefully.

“He’s basically family. I think if something were to ever happen between us, it would’ve happened already.”

“Hm. Good to know.” Peeta blushed and looked away again.

“Any other questions?” You asked him. “I really do want to make it up to you. I’ll answer anything you want.”

“When you said I walk too loud…” Peeta asked and trailed off.

“Real. Very real. You were so loud I wanted to kill you.”

“We could’ve avoided all this if you had.” Peeta muttered, making you laugh again. Peeta laughed as well and looked at you for a moment.

“Did you try as hard as you did to save my life for the romance plot?” He asked quietly as if fearful of the answer.

“No.” You said immediately. “I did what I did because I couldn’t handle the thought of you dying. I still can’t. I almost broke a steel door down when they separated us after we won. You were the only thing on my mind. That was the moment for me when I realized I wasn’t acting all that much. I love you deeply, Peeta. I know that for certain. I’m just not really sure what kind of love that is yet.”

Peeta looked into your eyes for a while and eventually, he seemed to be satisfied with your response. You knew he understood where you were coming from even if it hurt him to know the truth.

“I’m sure what my love is.” He said after a beat of silence. It wasn’t reproachful, more like a passing thought. He knew what he wanted and he wanted you to know it too.

“Could you wait for me? Until I figure it out?”

“I will.” Peeta nodded, making you smile on relief. He smiled too and the faintest blush crept over his cheeks. He looked out into the distance for a minute and a comfortable silence settled between you. He then turned to you and leaned in for a long, slow kiss. Just in case it was his last time for a while getting to do such a thing. It was your first kiss without a single camera present and you felt that familiar hunger sensation in your chest that left you wanting more. When he pulled away, you wanted him to do it again.

“Are you any closer to figuring it out?” He asked completely serious, making you laugh. You stared into his eyes and truly could not imagine your life without him.

“You know what?” You cracked a smile. “Yeah. I am.”

Tag list 🏷️

@sarcasm-and-stiles

[riordanness]

tolerate it — [p.mellark]

wordcount: 3.9K

warnings: slight death mentions, but bro it’s the hunger games what did you reallllllly expect

requested: yes!! @ornellastreet <33

I didn’t think it was possible for my mood to get worse after being reaped, but hearing his name called out over the loudspeaker definitely made me feel like hitting something.

“Peeta Mellark!” The chipper lady, Effie, is way over the top about all this. I mean, I get that it’s her job and all, but we’re kids, fighting to the death. We aren’t lottery winners or something.

I watch as the all too familiar blond boy’s face goes pale, then stare as he slowly makes his way towards the platform, toward me. He doesn’t look me in the eyes at first, just simply takes his place beside Effie.

“We have our tributes!” Effie squeals excitedly. “Now, shake hands, you two.”

Great. I clench my jaw as I hold my hand out to Peeta. He hesitates for just a second, but when he sees my expression, he quickly shakes my hand.

“Excellent!” Effie claps, and I feel the ridiculous urge to slap her wig off.

“Come along, both of you.” Effie waves us into the back rooms of the Justice Building. As I follow her and Peeta, I glance back over my shoulder, at what is probably my last look at home.

I sit beside Peeta, my fingers tracing the soft blue velvet of the couches in this ridiculously extravagant train car. I stare out the window, watching the world flash by faster and faster, till I get dizzy and have to stop. Then I stare at the floor.

Every part of me is aware of the boy only a few inches away. If I leaned even slightly, I would be brushing shoulders with him.

After noticing this, I quickly lean the other direction. I rest my hot forehead against the cool glass window, close my eyes, and try to pretend this is all a dream.

“Well, well, well.” A drawling male voice comes from somewhere above me, and I wake with a start. I must’ve fallen asleep in my chair, which almost impresses me because I was sure I’d been too scared to sleep.

I squint up and recognise Haymitch, the only living victor of District Twelve. He had a glass of alcohol in his left hand, and is waving the other hand at me. “Up, up!” he insists.

I get to my feet uncertainly, glancing around for a sign of Peeta.

“The boy’s already gone,” Haymitch says. “We’re arrived.”

“Arrived?” I ask. “Where?”

He spreads his hands, like ‘are you stupid?’. “The Capitol, sweetheart. Now come on. Everyone’s waiting for you.”

Honestly? It wasn’t how I’d pictured it. I haven’t ever seen much of the Capitol, but the image in my head was way off. Everything was way more extravagant and expensive and ridiculous than I could ever have imagined.

We’ve been here almost two days now. Last night was the parade, where me and Peeta were basically lit on fire and forced to hold hands while all the Capitol citizens stared at us like we were circus animals. I hated every second of it.

I stand now in my room, on Floor 12 of this stupid tribute apartment complex. I stare out the windows, watching the Capitol go by. My fingers fidget with the satin sleeve of my new top, the most fancy thing I’ve worn to date.

I glance at the clock on the wall, and remember I’d better get going to dinner. Effie, Haymitch, Peeta, and apparently our stylists will all be waiting for me.

I hurry.

At the table, I’m forced to sit beside Peeta, much to my annoyance. He leaves me alone, though, which is more than I can say about Effie, who is peppering me with questions. I answer as little as I can, refusing to give this woman any information worth hearing.

“So.” My stylist, Cinna, gives me a smile. He’s nicer than I thought any Capitol people were capable of, but I didn’t exactly like him, not yet. “Ready for your interview tomorrow?”

“No.”

“I have your outfit ready to go. You’ll prepare with Haymitch and Effie all day, till four, then you’re mine. I’ll make you gorgeous.”

“Okay.”

Effie makes an exasperated sound in her throat. “Can’t you just try to be excited?”

I stare at her, dumbfounded. I can’t believe this. “What, excited to die?” I fake an extremely over exaggerated smile. “I can’t wait!”

Peeta kind of laughs, then immediately tries to hide it with a cough and a glass of water.

I ignore him. I’ve become pretty good at that.

Haymitch smirks. Effie sighs. Cinna gives me a knowing little wink, and Peeta’s stylist, Portia, doesn’t look at me.

I sigh and shove my chair from the table. “Night,” I announce, and storm to my room. I collapse instantly into my bed, curl into a ball, and let the tears come. I fall asleep like that, crying for home, for safety, for comfort.

The next morning, I’m woken by Effie’s ridiculous ‘It’s going to be a big, big, big day!’ The entire day sucks from that point onwards.

Both Haymitch and Effie are at their wits ends with what to do with me during my interview.

Effie has me first, and for the first hour, she keeps her optimistic outlook on my potential. Two sarcastic words from me and fifty-seven minutes later, she looks ready to wring my neck then and there. She hands me over to Haymitch looking ready to cry. I have a tiny bit of satisfaction from that, I’ll admit.

Haymitch looks, I don’t know, preoccupied, the entire of our session. Everytime I say anything, he seems almost jumpy. Eventually I give up and sit there in silence until he lets me go. I have a shower per Cinna’s instructions and wait for him in my room.

I have to admit, Cinna is a genius. His handiwork is incredible. I stand in front of the mirror and smooth my skirts, a hint of my smile on my face.

Luxurious clothing, especially dresses, were never something I even thought of back in Twelve. But it felt pretty damn good to wear one.

The dress is gold, with little pockets of white and yellow and orange and red and silver and black, like fire. When I move, it’s almost like flames are flicking over me.

“This is amazing, Cinna,” I tell him. “Thank you for making me feel pretty tonight.”

Cinna gives me a hug, and a kiss on the forehead. “I’m not allowed to bet,” he says in reply, “but if I could, I’d bet on you.”

This time, I really do smile.

I officially want to die then and there the instant I’m up on that brightly lit stage. I have no idea what to say, or how to act, and I fumble my way through the entire interview. Even Caesar Flickerman, who never seems to run out of funny things to say; who always knows how to keep the conversation flowing effortlessly, is at his wits end with me. It seems to be my only talent; making people exasperated at me.

I leave the stage to the quietest round of applause the world has ever known.

I pass Peeta in the hall, and he gives me the smallest look of acknowledgement. I wish we could just stop pretending to be friends. Nothing has ever hurt me as much as Peeta Mellark has, and I don’t know how to forgive him for it. There’s a tiny part of me that’s almost glad we're going into the Hunger Games. No matter how it goes, I won’t ever have to deal with Peeta again after this.

I go to stand beside Haymitch and Effie, and prepare to watch Peeta’s interview. I wonder what he will talk about.

I kind of feel annoyed at him the longer the interaction goes on. He and Caesar bounce effortlessly off each other, talking and joking about… showers? Anyway, the crowd seems to love it.

Then, everything changes.

Caesar leans in to Peeta conspiratorially. “So, Peeta,” he says in a whisper, but directly into the microphone of course. “Is there a special girl back home?”

“Uh, yeah, Caesar, there is.” Peeta looks a little red at the confession.

I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes. We’re about to be slaughtered, and they’re discussing crushes? How ridiculous is that?

“Oh do tell.” Caesar sounds more like a teenage girl than a grown man. “We’d love to hear about her.”

Peeta clears his throat, and looks uncomfortably at the cameras. From my position inside, it’s like he’s staring right at me.

I quickly look away.

“Well,” Peeta begins, “she’s amazing. She’s one of the best people I’ve ever known, and I stuffed it up with her once. I’ve never forgiven myself for that.”

I glance at the screen uncertainly.

Peeta stares right back out at me. “I’m sorry for what I did. I want to do everything in my power to fix it. I promise. I love you.”

Caesar makes a squealing noise. “How adorable!” he exclaims. “You’ll have to get back to District 12 and she’ll have to forgive you.”

Peeta laughs uncomfortably. “That wouldn’t work, in my case.”

“And why not?”

“Because…” Peeta shifts in his seat. “Because she came here with me.”

I remember very little of the aftermath of Peeta’s comment. I know a flash of fury, disbelief, and shock ran through me at once. I know I dashed off to my room. I know I got out of my insane getup and collapsed into bed. I know I wanted to hit Peeta Mellark for that comment.

But after that, I know nothing.

I wake the next morning feeling sick to my stomach. I have a headache, my body feels stiff, and I’m still irrationally angry at Peeta. Well, it’s not irrational. It’s perfectly fine to hate him for what he did. And ‘apologising’ on live tv? It was like a sick joke.

I slowly get dressed in comfy pants and a loose, light blue blouse. I tie my hair up in a ponytail, and head for breakfast.

Everyone else is already there, But I ignore them all, pile my plate with as much food as I can, and sit myself down on the floor as far as possible from Peeta.

Effie huffs. “Good morning to you too, young lady.”

I answer by shoving a bread roll into my mouth whole.

“Ugh!” Effie is more than annoyed with me, but when I catch Haymitch’s eye by accident, he has a small smirk playing at his mouth, so I figure it’s not all bad.

“Hey, y/n,” Peeta tries.

I don’t reply, don’t even acknowledge him. I’m still so angry, so hurt from all those months ago. His words from back then mix with the ones from last night in my head, giving me a headache to match my heartbreak.

“You’re not… I’m sorry… I stuffed up… she’s amazing… I don’t want to… she came here with me… you mean nothing to me… not like that, y/n… I love you…”

I squeeze my eyes shut tight, trying to block it all out. All the memories.

It was a dark, depressing day. The weather sucked, but I guess that just meant it matched the rest of District Twelve.

I was heading home after school, and trying to work up my courage to do something I’d wanted to do for years.

I was going to tell Peeta Mellark that I loved him.

Everyone knew where he lived. The bakery was a pretty, inviting little place. The window was always filled with cakes, all decorated by Peeta himself.

I skipped up the front steps, knocking twice quickly on the dark blue painted door.

A woman answered, Peeta’s mother. “Hello.”

“Hi!” I pretended not to notice her quick glance at my less-than-clean dress, or my coal-covered boots and hair. I knew I wasn't as rich as their family. I wasn’t ashamed, but her look made me sad.

“I’m here to see Peeta,” I told her.

“Ah.” She narrowed her eyes at me, then disappeared. I hear hushed voices, but don’t try to listen in on the conversation.

I just stood there and waited. Soon, Peeta appeared in the doorway. “Hey, y/n,” he says uncertainly.

“Hey.” I decided to just say it—get it over with as quickly as possible. “I like you, Peeta. Like, like, like you.”

Peeta blinked at me, stunned. “You… oh.”

I chewed my lip, suddenly feeling like this was a horrible, horrible mistake. I shouldn’t have come. I should’ve just pretended I wasn’t in love with him.

Peeta’s eyes looked conflicted, hurt, despairing. But his words, and his tone, are as hard and cold as ice. “I don’t like you. Not like that, y/n. You… you’re not… anything to me. Just a friend, an acquaintance even. You’re worth nothing to me behind that.”

I physically felt the pain of my heart breaking. I wanted to cry, run, hit something.

“Oh.” I managed. “That’s… that’s cool.” I turned on my heel and ran all the way home.

It’s been over a year since Peeta Mellark broke my heart, and I’ve never gotten over it. Even now, eating my breakfast, knowing we are both probably likely to die in the arena, I still can’t find it in myself to forgive him.

I don’t believe his little stunt last night. It was for the cameras, to make a statement and gain sponsors. He doesn’t love me. He made that pretty damn clear a year ago.

I slam my plate on the ground so hard it cracks in two. A mute, red-haired girl rushes over to help me clean it. I apologise to her, but I can’t stay in this room for a moment longer. I feel trapped, like I can’t breathe.

I find my way to an out of the way part of our complex, sitting against the wall in a little window alcove. I’m overlooking the Capitol central, the citizens milling about in their celebratory days before the Hunger Games.

I feel sick at the sight.

How can they be so enraptured by the horror that is the games? How can they find actual joy and pleasure watching kids die?

“Hey.”

I start, and turn, and see Peeta a few steps away from me.

“Hi,” I say back, a little stiffly.

He gestures at the ground beside me, and I nod. He gently sits down, looking slightly nervous.

“What’s up?” I say dully.

“Uh—nothing much, thanks.”

“What are you doing here?” I have no patience for small talk, especially not now.

Peeta licks his lips and doesn’t meet my eyes. “I actually came to apologise.”

I raise an eyebrow, surprised. “As opposed to your apology earlier?”

Peeta grimaces. “I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. Haymitch made me promise not to—and, I guess I just didn’t stop to think how you’d feel.”

I look away, trying to ignore the sudden lump in my throat. “Yeah, well.”

“I’m also here to tell you the plan,” Peeta adds.

My gaze snaps back to him. “The plan?” I ask incredulously.

He nods. “This… star crossed lovers angle is really good for getting sponsors. It’ll help us gain friends in the Capitol—people who will want to help us.”

“Because it’s my goal in life to be besties with the Capitol,” I say flatly, and Peeta almost cracks a smile.

“If it’ll help to keep you alive, it is your goal.”

I shrug. “Whatever. What’s this plan?”

“Act like we’re in love.”

I stare at him for a second, then realise he’s dead serious. I deflate a little, but I know deep down he has a point. We need sponsors if we want to have any chance at all of winning the Games.

“Okay,” I say finally. “Sure. Let’s do it.”

Training goes for three days, and it mostly sucks. I have zero talents, apparently, except for differentiating deadly plants from safe ones. Oh, I can also tie some knots. Not super helpful. I can’t throw a knife, shoot a bow, lift anything heavier than a couple kilos, or climb ropes very well.

As the third day comes to an end, I feel incredibly useless, and exceptionally hopeless. I’m going to be dead in a day, I can almost feel it.

Peeta actually had a pretty good chance. He’s very strong, and can lift even the heaviest of weights. He’s also a whiz at camouflage and starting fires. All bakery skills, I’ll wager.

As per Haymitch’s instructions, we stick together throughout the training, steering clear of the other tributes. We also touch whenever possible, holding hands, hugging, me letting Peeta touch my hair.

It’s all rather infuriating to me, but if it might help to keep Peeta alive for longer, then whatever. He needs to win. He needs to stay alive and get home to his family.

It’s finally the night before the Games, and to say I was completely terrified would be the absolute truth. I lie awake, goosebumps everywhere. I’m so scared I couldn’t eat anything at dinner, even though I know I should be trying to get up my strength. Who knows how long it might be before I can eat again.

I might be starving in that arena, or dehydrated, or freezing to death. Who knows? Maybe I’ll die right away, in the initial bloodbath.

I sit up in bed, sick of tossing and turning. I climb out, and head out my bedroom door. Surprisingly, it’s not locked. I guess they do have cameras literally everywhere, so they’d know if I was actually trying to escape. Which I’m not. That would be pointless. I’m going to die anyway.

Across the hall is Peeta’s room, and without thinking, I knock on his door. He opens it a second later, and his brow crunches together at the sight of me.

“Y/n?” he asks. “What are you—?”

“Can I come in?” I’m suddenly awkward, realising how weird this is.

Peeta nods quickly. “Yeah, yeah. Come in, please.” He steps aside and lets me pass. His room is indentical to mine.

I walk over to his bed and sit myself down on the silkily sheets. “Can I stay in here tonight?” I ask, not looking at Peeta.

I hear his bed creak beneath me as he sits too. “Yeah, ‘course you can.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then he adds, in a much softer voice, “Anytime.”

I wake up to the sun shining into the room, and for a moment, I forget entirely where I am, and what’s about to happen. I just sink into the pillows and close my eyes.

Then, I remember. The Games are today.

“Hey, you,” a voice says behind me, and I roll over in surprise. Peeta.

“Morning,” I say back, for some reason grateful he’s here. Having a familiar face to wake up to is much nicer than rising alone, facing the Games all by myself.

“Todays the day, huh?” Peeta asks, sitting up and frowning a little.

“Guess so,” I reply, rolling back over to stare at the ceiling. “I don’t want to get up.”

Peeta laughs, and it’s a pretty sound. Too pretty for such an awful day.

There’s a knock on our door, and Effie’s voice filters through: “Het up you two, it’s going to be a big, big, big day!”

“How does she know I'm here?” I ask, sitting up straight.

Peeta shrugs. “The Capitol has a crap ton of cameras, y/n.”

I roll my eyes in annoyance. Do they really need to know every single thing about us, before we die? It’s all so ridiculous I almost have to laugh.

“I’d better go get ready and stuff,” I tell him, sliding out of his bed. “Thanks for letting me stay here last night.”

Peeta looks at me for a second, like he’s going to say something big, but just replies with, “See you in the arena.”

“Good luck.” And I’m gone.

“Ten seconds til launch.”

I take a deep breath, feel Cinna’s reassuring squeeze on my shoulder, and I step into the glass tube that will be taking me up into the arena.

“Bye, Cinna,” I half whisper. “Thank you for everything.”

He gives me a smile, that somehow is genuinely caring. “Good luck, my dear girl.”

Something inside the tube clicks, and it slides shut, locking me into my fate. It begins to slowly rise, and so does my anxiety. I come completely out of the tube, and bright, blazing sunlight temporarily blinds me. When I can see again, my throat squeezes in terror and anticipation. All of us are the same distance apart, standing on little pods that I know we can’t step off of without being blown to the sky.

In the middle of the tribute circle is a metal cornucopia, with various weapons and supplies arranged around it, trying to tempt us. I remember Haymitch’s advice to leave it all alone and just run to the woods.

That’s when I remember Peeta. I glance left, seeing a girl from District Seven, I think, who’s also looking in my direction. Beyond her is a tall, dark boy I’ve never really paid attention to other than to get out of his way. I think his name is Thresh.

I squint, frantically trying to locate Peeta. I finally spot him, the farthest tribute I can see to my right. He’s already got his eyes on me, and is shaking his head. Why? What’s he trying to tell me?

Suddenly, the bell is sounding, and there’s a flash of movement as the tributes all simultaneously leave their pedestals, most heading right for the cornucopia. I freeze, my body not reacting at all. I force myself to move, running in just close enough to snatch up a small blue backpack, and then I sprint in Peeta’s direction. I just manage to catch a glimpse of him disappearing into the woods, so I head that way.

About an hour later, I still haven’t caught up to Peeta, or seen any other tributes. Sounds of the bloodbath behind me have faded away now, and nothing but the occasional animal or bird or wind sounds now echo through the forest.

It would almost be peaceful, if I wasn’t where I was.

Then, out of absolutely nowhere, someone grabs my arm from behind. I let out a scream, and a hand slaps over my mouth. I struggle, but I’m not strong at the best of times.

“Calm down!” It’s Peeta’s voice. “It’s just me, y/n, jeez.”

I twist him off me and whirl to face him. My glare is almost enough to murder him right then and there. “Don’t scare me like that!” I hiss. “You idiot!” I hit him, half out of the fear bubbling inside of me and half out of relief he’s here and alive and with me.

“Sorry, my love,” Peeta replies, cracking a flirtatious smile. “I won’t do it again.”

I narrow my eyes at him, half annoyed and half embarrassed at how much relief is flooding inside of me at this sight of him, alive and well and here.

“Allies?” Peeta asks.

A laugh bubbles up, and surprises both of us. Peeta laughs too, but then shushes me. “Let’s not get killed just yet, okay?” he suggests. “I’d like to hang out with the love of my life first.”

And for some reason, I don’t even disagree.