#effie makes gifs now

[rennarita]

[dogsrotten]

"where were you when everything was falling apart ?"

[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

[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?"

[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.

[professional-yearner]

Can't help falling in love with you 🤍 pt.2

Yandere! Cheater! Clone officer x reader

Series TW!: cheating, mistresses, grief, murder, Evil-ish, being trapped, toxic relationships, forced relationship, obsessive love, obsession, general insanity, manipulation, disloyalty, crybaby Mc, sensitive and a bit whimpy Mc

The waiting was agonizing.

You passed the time washing dishes at the sink, trying not to strain your ears for any sign of the door opening, for his boots scraping against the mat outside.

It couldn't be too far off by now, only a few minutes at most until he got home.

As if on queue, you heard boots coming up the complex stairs, which creaked under his weight.

The key turned in the lock and it felt like someone had drenched you in ice water and shoved you out into the hoth tundra. How were you going to do this?

You hadn't even been married a whole three years, but he had become one of the only people you talked to or saw regularly, you had almost forgotten how to move through the world without him.

Almost.

You'd had to relearn in the past few months with the distance he had put between the two of you. Been set adrift and panicked by someone who you loved, someone who was supposed to love you.

You shook your head, resolve finally breaking as you shook, letting out soft cries.

You didn't dare to look back at him, already picturing his vaguely surprised look at your obvious show of how you had felt all this time, but not sure you could take a confirmation of it.

"I can't do it." You whimpered, gripping the counter.

"Do what?" He asked simply, tone the gentlest you had heard it in a while, but wary.

"This, Steel, this is- bad! This hurts. We need to end this, now."

You turned to him, watching with exhausted resignation as his expression turned from confusion to shock.

"What?" He asked in a small voice, eyes now glued to you like they hadn't been in almost a year as you held yourself, leaning against the sink as you cried.

"I don't know why I've been holding onto this so hard when it's clear it's just… gone. I guess I just-"

You sobbed, losing any hold you had on your emotions.

"I just wanted you to keep loving me, because I love you so much, Steel! But I know I have to let you go now, I need to let you be happy, let us both be happy."

"Wait- Cyare, honey, what are you saying?" He took a step towards you, making you look directly at him, trying not to bawl as you choked out the words you had been preparing to say.

"We need a divorce, Steel. It's obvious you're not happy, I feel abandoned and alone- this marriage is hurting us- both of us."

He closed the distance between the two of you quickly, expression now panicked, much to your surprise. Nonetheless, you shied away when he reached out to touch your shoulder, "Hey, hey, hey, baby- who said I wasn't happy? You're being-"

"Please, Steel, I saw the messages."

You watched the color drain from his face.

"Sweetheart-"

You glared, ducking away from him and heading for the bedroom, "Don't call me that! Please! I'm trying to let you out! Please, stop talking to me like I'm stupid!"

He followed, "No- what are you-"

He stood in the doorway as you pulled you suitcase out of the closet, cursing yourself for bot packing earlier. Putting it on the bed, you slowly began to make your way through the dresser that you shared, placing some clothes in the main compartment.

"I'll stay with Effie while we get things sorted. The apartment was yours to begin with, so I'll- I don't know- I'll figure it out."

You gathered your stuffed animals from the shelves in a daze, dumping them gently in your laundry bag.

"I'll come back for the rest of my things as soon as I find a place, unless you want them out sooner, just- please don't throw anything away."

You could see his hands beginning to shake as you looked back to him for confirmation.

"What?" His voice was light, still seeming in complete disbelief.

You sighed, squeezing your eyes shut tight as you zipped the suitcase, struggling to get it off the bed.

"I want you to be happy, Steel, because I really do love you, and as much as I hate it, that can't be with me."

Not able to stand looking at him anymore, you pushed past him with your luggage, trying quiet your crying as you closed the door to the apartment.

Hailing a cab, you couldn't bare the sight of the complex enough to take a look back for fear of your resolve breaking.

-

You stared at the ring that sat on the nightstand, still hiccuping from your latest crying session since arriving at Effie's.

He had saved up his credits from various betting pools at the 79's to buy it, you had found out from his brothers. Of course, the shimmering diamonds that adorned it were fakes, but it was still a gorgeous ring, plus, you hadn't loved it for it's beauty.

You'd loved it because he had placed it on your finger that night in the backrooms of the 79's.

That thought process sent you into another round of sobbing, burying your face in the pillow beneath you so you didn't disrupt your friend in the other room.

You had even crying almost constantly since arriving at your friend's place. Luckily for the both of you, she worked a cushy advertising job, so there were no roommates to stare as you had collapsed into her, wailing and exhausted.

She'd had to escort you to her guest room just so she could cook dinner after a while, which you felt even more terrible about.

Since then, you had been going between crying and sleeping, barely able to keep track of which you were doing at the moment.

Despite your efforts to keep quiet, the door opened anyways, revealing the worried and lovely face of your friend, Effie.

"Hey, honey." She said, pushing the door open more with her hip. You saw now that she had a tray with her. A steaming microwave meal and glass of blue milk lay next to eachother, looking the most unappetizing you had ever seen something edible look.

You must've been making a face, because her frown only deepened.

"Come on, babe, you need to eat." She urged, placing the tray on the side table and sitting by your feet.

You nodded, guilt twisting along with the grief in your gut, "I'm sorry, I'm trying, it's just-"

You sniffed, embarrassed that you were crying again, 

"Hard."

She nodded sympathetically, squeezing your ankle over the covers.

"I know, I'll get you more of that anti-nausea stuff soon, you said that helps a little?"

You nodded again, giving her a weak, but genuine, smile, 

"Thank you, babe."

Fiddling with your hands, you mumbled, "I know you don't have to be doing this, so thank you, again."

She smiled slightly at that, bumping her shoulder with yours playfully, "Maybe not, but remember how you took care of me when I finally broke up with Hertz? How could I not do the same for my best girl?"

You snorted, a bit of humor slipping it's way into your tone, "I still don't know how you were so hung up on someone who looked like that!"

"He was very sweet when he wanted to be!" The Rodian pushed you softly in mock offense, laughing.

"He drooled!" You exclaimed, making her laugh harder.

Slowly, her laughter faded until she was just smiling softly at you.

"You know I love you." She took your hand, squeezing it, "Please just let me know if you need anything, you're not a burden."

At this, your eyes welled with new tears. It was impressive how the woman almost always knew what you needed to hear.

"Thank you, Effie." You sniffed, squeezing her hand in return and allowing her to pull you into a hug.

As you held eachother you felt that, if you had people like her in your life, maybe, maybe, you would make it through this.

[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.

[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…

[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.

[taytrashmouth]

I'm so glad other people are having a peeta renaissance and I'm so obsessed with how you write for him !!!!!! Could you do promt #6 with Peeta please ! Maybe with the scene with Johanna in the elevator or maybe something with Katniss during the victor's tour ?? Big love ! ❤️

Omg omg thank you!!!!!!! Ahhhhh! Love this. I hope you enjoy!

Prompt 6: you’re jealous

Jealousy, jealousy.

Peeta Mellark x reader.

A

You entered the lift with Peeta and Haymitch after the parade. Soon after Johanna entered the lift too. She undid her hair and rambled about how boring her costume was and the stupid Capitol.

She then asked Peeta to unzip her.

He glanced at you for a second before obeying. He looked up but you noticed how his eyes wondered.

A bitter feeling spread into your chest. Why couldn’t he seem to keep his eyes off her.

You had the sudden urge to lean onto Peeta and hold onto his arm.

He glanced quickly down at you, and kissed your head. Johanna climbed off the elevator.

“Wow.” Haymitch mouthed.

Peeta’s eyes went wide in an ‘ I know’ sort of way.

You let go of him, no longer liking the thought of holding him. Not right now, not nowthat she was gone.

When you got back to your room you changed out of your dress and climbed into bed.

“So, you love me…right?” You asked as Peeta brushed his teeth. He frowned leaving the brush limp in his foamy mouth and spat out the toothpaste rinsing his palate and toothbrush.

“Of course n/n.” He crawled behind you and held you close in his lap. “You’re everything to me.” He whispered.

You were quiet for a while before speaking up again.

“What did you think about Johanna?” You asked.

“She was alright-“ he shrugged, still holding you.

You scoffed.

“Oh my god! You’re jealous.” Peeta turned you to face him with a smirk.

“I am not!” You denied.

“Oh come on! You’ve been insecure all evening, you had to grab onto me when she was in the elevator, you’ve been asking about her since dinner.” Peeta listed and you sighed.

“It’s just- you looked at her… and you’re supposed to look at me. And I just- I got upset because you don’t act like that when you see me-“ you were cut off by a kiss.

“Peeta!”

“You are so cute when you’re jealous! Did you know that?” He smirked. “I wasn’t looking at her like that n/n. I was looking at the marks on her back, I think the peacekeepers beat her or something. They looked fresh. And I was thinking, she must be crazy, yelling about the Capitol 24/7 and getting undressed in an elevator.” Peeta explained.

You felt a little silly.

“Oh.”

“Even if I was checking her out, which I wasn’t, I wouldn’t ever look at you like that. You are so gorgeous and I respect you so much. I will only ever look at you with love and not like you were some painting I could eye-fuck.”

Tears filled your eyes. “I just get scared because I don’t look like her. I don’t look like the pretty girls in the Capitol.” Insecurities washed over you. “I don’t want you to be disappointed that you were stuck with me.” Tears ran down your cheeks.

Peeta kissed you on your cheek and wiped away the tears. He stroked hair out of your face. “You don’t look like them… you’re right. You’re more beautiful than all of them. I don’t want the over the top girls in the Capitol or the extremely over the top Johanna.”

You watched him with such love. You had just accused him of checking out some other girl and here he was making you feel better. He wasn’t even angry. He was perfect.

“I mean, have you seen Effie? I don’t think I could handle that much glitter. You know?” He rambled and you giggled.

“I want you n/n…I love you. I could never be disappointed about just you.”

You smiled and held each other tighter until you were almost asleep. You felt Peeta’s stomach moving? Was he laughing?

You heard laughed finally erupt and you leaned back, trying to figure out what was so funny.

“What is so funny.” You were smiling just off of his expression.

“I love you so much you know that.” He laughed. “Remember the day we first spoke back in 12. You asked me to go out with you, which I thought was really brave because you were normally so quiet.” He rambled.

“Then you told me that you’d been outside for about an hour contemplating before you came into the bakery. Well, I had no idea you got so jealous over me…it’s flattering.” He laughed again.

“What!?” You sat up in confusion.

“N/n you 100% saw that red head from school go in before you and watched her flirt with me. That’s why you asked me out. I should thank her really.” He smiled and you gasped and then buried your head in his chest, a bright shade of pink.

It was true. You had liked him for ages. She couldn’t steal him from you.

“I should start kissing you whenever you and Finnick talk.” Peeta tickled your sides and you laughed despite your embarrassment. “I mean, he’s a good looking guy, should I be worried.” Peeta smiled at you and you returned the gesture.

“Yeah you should be.” You tried not to laugh.

Peeta fake gasped and pushed you onto your back, the spongy bed bouncing under you.

“I’m sorry, have you seen his abs…” you fanned yourself. “I don’t make the rules babe.” You smiled.

“Is that so?” Peeta held your knees that were the only barrier between him and the rest of your body.

“Have you seen these abs?” He lifted up his t-shirt revealing his abs. You could look at him all day. He was perfect.

He pulled you closer by your feet and straddled you. Moving for a passionate kiss, and moving down your neck finding your sweet spot. When he sat up straight again you were left in a love sick haze.

“Bet Finnick can’t do that.” Peeta was out of breath after the heated kisses, the only reason he stopped was for air.

You shrugged playfully. His eyes widened in surprise.

“Look who’s jealous!” You smiled. You quickly hooked your ankles and flipped him over to be on top.

“I’m-I’m not jealous.” Peeta was right, he looked at you with only love.

You kissed him now, leaving him a love sick mess. Scruffy hair and all.

“Come on bread boy, let’s get some sleep.” You climbed under the covers and he quickly followed letting you use his now bare chest as a pillow.

“You have better abs.” You whispered and you could almost hear him smirk.

Requests are open please send them in

[rennarita]

ELP returns to attack David Finlay

[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.

[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

[nebulablakemurphy]

Moves & Countermoves (Part 3)

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing.

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2

Katniss and Peeta have it out during dinner. Bickering over who has a better chance of winning. Asking to be trained separately after that. It is an odd thing to get heated about and Haymitch is intrigued.

“We’ll explore that later,” he decides as the kids leave the table.

Effie tries her hand at small talk. “Tomorrow the tributes will be assessed. How are you feeling about that? I, for one, am hopeful that we might see a victor!”

“I feel like I need a refill.” Haymitch grunts, leaning up from his seat to reach the bottle, “and I feel like you,” he looks to his wife, “need a little bit of the good stuff to take the edge off.” He dumps the contents of her glass onto the floor, replacing it with the malt liquor of his choice.

“I’m going to bed.” Y/N pushes away from the table.

“Don’t be like that, angel.” Haymitch reaches out, catching her around the waist and pulling her against his side.

Y/N smooths a hand over his hair. “It’s been a long day, I’m tired.”

Haymitch begrudgingly releases his hold. “Go.”

“Night, Effie.” The woman waves in parting.

Effie clears her throat, “goodnight.” These people are awfully temperamental.

Y/N returns to her room, making for the tablet on the nightstand. Clicking open her files for Katniss and Peeta in turn. Adding archery and strength to their lists of abilities, then moving onto weaknesses, scribbling in at the top ‘uncontrolled rage and each other?’

Y/N opens that file last; the one where she jots down kind words for the tribute’s families. How they touched her life, how they made a difference in this world and will continue to do so. With the promise that they will live on in their hearts and hers, forever.

When she was reaped, a lifetime ago, Haymitch hadn’t been warm and fuzzy. Though he’d gone to the quarter quell with her maternal aunt. Allied with her to get to the top five, even held her hand as she died, Haymitch can’t bring himself to do much more than drink himself into a stupor.

“What exactly do you want me to do, girl?”

“I want you to help us!”

He’d left Y/N and her district partner, high and dry.

“Help you?” Haymitch laughs, “I can’t help you.” He couldn’t save Maysilee then, he can’t save Y/N now. He wonders if this is still part of his punishment for the force field, cruel and unusual in it’s crafting.

Even after she wins, set up in the house beside his in victor’s village, Haymitch still won’t speak more than a few words to her. That is until the next reaping rolls around.

“Aren’t you coming with me?” Y/N asks.

Back to the Capitol, back to hell.

“Think I’m gonna sit this one out. You’re due to take one for the team, right? I was a shit mentor anyhow. Not you though, you’ll be good.”

She isn’t good. All of sixteen marching a couple of thirteen year olds to their final resting place. Y/N is inconsolable upon her return, mailing letters to the families of the fallen tributes from twelve and shutting out the world.

Her mother, who’s struggled with a morphling addiction most of Y/N’s life, is worse now. Her father, the mayor, makes his best efforts to shield his daughters from it. They do what they can to support Y/N through her victory and the transition to her new life, all to no avail.

In the end there is only one person Y/N wants to comfort her, the only one who understands. She has a new respect for Haymitch after that. There is no pain in the world like this.

It takes three years, three years before she marches up to his door on reaping day and pounds against it, hard. “You’re coming with me.” Gone is the child she was, a woman standing in her place.

“And why would I do that?” Haymitch smirks, leaning heavily against the door frame.

“Because I need you.”

Slowly, they became friends. Haymitch was happy to be whatever, whatever she needed him to be.

She folds the tablet back in it’s case, feeling tears prickle at the back of her eyes. Crying is useless, she learned that sometime ago. Not a single outcome changed or a life saved with tears. Only knowledge and fact driven perseverance can do that. Yet she is more man than machine and sometimes sadness wins.

The door of their suite hums to life. Y/N tries, in vain, to hide the evidence; her moment of weakness.

“You know, you,” Haymitch stumbles in, pointing a finger at her, “have become highly predictable.” Going to bed with him or after him is the norm. Means she’s fine, maybe not great, but she’ll tough it out. Going to bed before him is nothing short of a cry for help. She’s reached her limit. Haymitch knew she was getting there, that’s why he offered the drink.

Y/N heaves in a breath, “don’t say I told you so.”

“Fine, but I did tell you so,” he frowns. For all his flaws, Haymitch does love her and hates that she’s in pain.

She opens her hand to accept the little blue pill in his palm, it’ll put her out for a few hours of much needed sleep. Y/N swallows it dry, forcing it down her throat.

“Lie down,” Haymitch jerks his chin toward the pillows. Pulling back the covers to tuck her in, his wife’s eyelids already heavy.

She babbles out a bit of nonsense, her tongue like lead. Not heeding her command.

“We can argue all day tomorrow.” He promises, soothing her to sleep with her hand in his. Peppering kisses to her knuckles as she loosens her grip. “Sweet dreams.”

————————————————————————

“So besides the bow, what else can you do?” Y/N asks Katniss, prepared to take notes.

“Might help if you look at me.”

“Hmm?” The woman snaps her head up.

“If you’re analyzing me for the next kids, it might help to look up every now and again.”

“I wasn’t-”

“You were.” Katniss cuts her off, with finality. “We’re all numbers to you anyway.”

Y/N offers a smile as she sets the tablet down. “You want my attention, you have it.”

“Don’t talk to me that way.”

“What way?”

“Like I’m a child,” Katniss furrows her brow.

“You are a child,” Y/N retorts. “I know you don’t want to be here and all that anger has to go somewhere.” She pushes off the training room bench and onto the mats. “Show me what you can do.”

The brunette charges her mentor, prepared to tackle her to the ground; only Y/N moves at the last second. Leaving Katniss face down on the ground. This only fuels her fire, she grabs Y/N’s ankle, tugging her off balance.

They carry on like this for a long while, ending with the pair covered in sweat, sprawled out on the mats.

“How can you do this?” Send kids off every year to fight and die. “You’re a mother.”

“I do this because I’m a mother,” Y/N whispers. “You’re not numbers to me, Katniss. You’re people. Who deserve to be treated with love and compassion, given access to every shred of useful information I have. That’s why I document everything. So I never forget.”

Katniss sees her then, as if for the first time.

Peeta finds them. “It’s time to switch,” he says.

Haymitch is waiting to help Katniss prep for the interviews and Peeta will now be…doing whatever this is.

Katniss musters the strength to drag herself away, glancing back at Y/N from the door. “Put that in my notes. Tell my sister I fought.”

————————————————————————

“As you know, the tributes are rated on a scale of one to twelve, after three days of careful evaluation.” Caesar narrates from the television.

Effie, Portia, Cinna, Peeta and Katniss have all joined the victors on the pristine white settee. Y/N slides forward to the edge, while Haymitch sinks back into the cushions. Feeling the familiar squeeze and release of her fingers against his knee as the results are displayed.

District twelve is last, the anticipation rises like bile in Y/N’s throat. The careers score nines and tens, the others a mix of fives through eights. Thresh, of district eleven pulled a nine, his partner Rue follows with a seven. Best of luck, sweet girl.

“From district twelve, Peeta Mellark; with a score of…eight.”

Portia gasps in delight, “Peeta!”

“Excellent.”

“An eight.” Y/N bumps his shoulder.

“We can work with that.”

“Bravo.”

Peeta smiles, relaxing marginally at the news.

“And finally, from district twelve, Katniss Everdeen; with a score of…eleven.”

“Eleven?!”

“I thought they hated me.” After she shot at their pig and all.

“They must have liked your guts.”

Cinna raises a toast. “To Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire!”

Part 4

Series Taglist: @praline357 @flowercrowns-goodvibes @justheretoparty420 @avocadotoastwithegg @officialjellydoughnut @whoreforfictionalpeople @treehouse-mouse @emo-markie @spilled-mi1k

[tealeavesandtrash]

🎄 Sweet Dreams of Holly and Ribbon: Part 5 - 14 Days Until Christmas 🎄

Read in full || Part 1 || Part 4 || Part 6

On Saturday, Teddy comes round for a sleepover - apparently, something that started back in September and is now a fortnightly tradition alternating between the Potters and Teddy’s dad hosting. James makes Dal Tadka for dinner which is delicious and tastes of childhood nostalgia for Effie’s cooking. 

Teddy and Harry spend the evening racing around the house and getting under everyone’s feet, caught up in a game that Sirius can’t begin to figure out but seems enjoyable nonetheless. Harry announces that he and Teddy are going to stay awake the whole night, but they’re both fast asleep by nine o’clock (which according to James is still very late for them.)

The next morning is a little calmer, by which their excitement is still just as high as last night but is channelled into a slightly less destructive outlet than tearing around the house at full speed. Instead, the boys have somehow managed to get their hands on Lily’s makeup bag. They present it to Sirius and, with pleading eyes and dazzling smiles, begging him to let them do his makeup. And Sirius Black was not built to say no to his godson, especially not with those puppy eyes which are so obviously inherited from James, and which Teddy mirrors effortlessly. So Sirius sighs, and relents because at the end of the day as long as they don’t poke his eye out,  it’s nothing that a little face wash can’t undo. 

He sits cross-legged on the living floor, eyes closed and patiently waiting as Harry and Teddy get to work. It’s all stubby fingers, poking and prodding all over the place, but for the most part surprisingly gentle although the same might not be able to be said for the state of Lily’s makeup, but they can cross that bridge when they get to it. 

“Can we use this?” 

Sirius cracks an eye at the question. Teddy is clutching a sticker book in both hands, looking expectantly up at him. 

“Ooh yeah!” Harry adds, setting aside the bright lipstick that he had been clutching in his fist. “Please, can we Padfoot?”

“Only if you promise to make me look pretty,” Sirius says, “And only if I get to do this.” He plucks the book out of Teddy's hands. He flicks it open to a random page, peels off two animal stickers and sticks them in quick succession on Harry and then Teddy’s forehead as they explode into giggles. 

After Sirius’  makeover is finished off with what feels like a hundred stickers plastered all over his face, Harry presents him with a fistful of nail varnish bottles. “We made you pretty, so you have to make us pretty,” he explains. “Mummy says only grown-ups can play with these so you have to do it.”

“Well I suppose that’s fair,” Sirius muses. “I get a free make-over, you two get to visit the very exclusive Padfoot nail salon.”

Harry drops the bottles on the floor, scattering them across the rug as he sorts through the colours. He settles on three and thrusts them eagerly in front of Sirius’ face. “I want these.”

“What’s the magic word?”

“Please?”

“Good kid,” Sirius praises as he ruffles Harry’s hair. “Do you know which colours you want, Teddy?”

Teddy shakes his head but keeps his eyes fixed on Harry’s hands as Sirius gets to work. 

“Do you want to pick some out while I do Harry’s?” He prompts and Teddy nods, tearing his gaze away to look through the collection Harry had acquired. 

Once Harry is done, Sirius moves on to Teddy who has selected purple glitter. It doesn’t take long at all to paint both the boys' nails, it takes more time for them to sit and copy Sirius as he shows them how to blow on them to dry. Lily might forgive him ruining half her makeup if he offers to replace it, but getting nail varnish all over the sofa and carpet under his watch is a different matter. 

The doorbell chimes in the background, followed by some muffled chatter. 

“Teddy, your dad’s here,” Lily calls as she pushes open the living room door. There's a moment of silence while she takes in the scene before her. “Is that my makeup?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll clean everything up,” Sirius starts to say, turning as he talks to meet Lily’s eye. 

“Right, well, Remus you’ve met Sirius, right?” Lily says as Sirius watches in mild horror as Remus steps through the doorway after her. 

He has one eyebrow raised as he assesses the situation. “Briefly,” he mutters before meeting Sirius’ eye, “nice…this,” he says as he gestures to his own face. Sirius feels his cheeks flush under the sudden attention, completely unaware of just how much of a mess his face is at the moment. 

“Daddy, look!” Teddy calls as soon as he sees Remus, scrambling to his feet and rushing over to show him Sirius’ handy work. “Pads painted my nails, aren't they pretty?”

He waits with bated breath as Remus leans down to examine his son's nails because as much as he would like to have faith James and Lily wouldn’t befriend someone who’d have an issue with this - and Remus doesn’t seem like the type to have an issue - it’s a small rural town and Sirius isn’t naive enough to assume that everyone is as relaxed as he would like.

“They’re very pretty,” Remus says gently and Sirius lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

Teddy grins at the compliment, then turns back to Sirius, “Can you paint my daddy’s nails?”

Remus and Sirius share a look and Sirius swallows. “I mean, I’m not sure your dad has time for that.”

Teddy turns to look back up at Remus, and Sirius can watch his resolve quickly dissolve away under what he can only assume is the same puppy dog eyes that Sirius has already fallen prey to. 

“I suppose, as long as it’s okay Sirius?” Remus says cautiously as he glances back at Sirius. Sirius gives a shrug, shuffles over slightly and pats the floor next to him as an invitation. 

Remus approaches slowly, picking his way through the mess the kids have made. He sits gingerly next to Sirius, although opts for the sofa instead of the floor. Sirius shuffles around so they’re facing each other.

“Any colour preferences?”

“Um,” Remus says slowly, glancing over the array in front of him, “what do you think, Teds?”

“We should match,” Teddy says earnestly, reaching for the same glittery purple he picked out himself. 

“Excellent choice,” Sirius agrees, then turns to Remus. “Do you mind?”

“Why would I mind?” Remus asks as he gives his first hand to Sirius. 

Sirius shrugs, “Some people have an issue with it.” 

“I suppose,” Remus says quietly and Sirius hums in agreement, although his attention is more focused on the fingers in his hand, skin smooth under his touch as he holds Remus’ hand steady and gets to work. 

He spends a lot longer on Remus’ nails than he did either of the boys - enough so that Harry loses all interest and disappears, but Teddy wriggles his way onto Remus’ lap halfway through.  

When he’s done, Remus and Teddy start to make a move. In the space of the manicure, all the energy seems to drain from Teddy, the excitement of the weekend hitting him all at once as he refuses to let go of Remus. Sirius wordlessly helps pack up Teddy’s things - Remus obviously struggling to do it one-handed while he also balances Teddy on his hip, but refusing to outright ask for help. 

“I would stay longer, but I think someone overdue for a nap,” Remus says. Teddy is still cuddled up into his side and Remus bounces him slightly as they loiter in the doorway. “Thank you,” he says sincerely as he holds Sirius' gaze, “for making sure Ted had a good time, and for the nails.”

“Anytime, he’s a great kid. And you’re a great salon client.”

Remus huffs out a laugh, cheeks lightly flushed, “I’ll see you round Sirius.”

“Yeah, see you round.”

Read in full || Part 1 || Part 4 || Part 6

@annaliza999 @marigold-hills @veganbutterchicken (If you do/dont want to be tagged in next parts lmk <3)

scene inspo below

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Capitol Punishment II

Haymitch x Reader

Summary: The Capitol continues to torture it’s victors no matter how long ago they won through punishment, exploitation, and worst of all; their relationships.

A story in which Haymitch’s lover is a plaything for the Capitol.

Warnings: Canon level violence, rape (though never explicit), alcohol, murder, systemic poverty, exploitation, rebellion (?), more reliance on movie than book, suicidal thoughts

Word Count: 3.3k

Part I | Masterlist | Part III

Then came the 74th Hunger Games. On reaping day you woke up in bed with Haymitch. “Here we go again,” you muttered dryly as you sat up.

“I know,” Haymitch agreed solemnly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Stay by me, I don’t want you to be taken without me knowing.”

You agreed, standing up to get ready for the day.

As mentors you were allowed on the train whenever you wanted so once Haymitch was ready you headed over. As for the reaping, news had reached you that Katniss Everdeen had volunteered for her little sister. “She just signed her own death certificate but hey, at least sponsors will like her,” Haymitch said.

“Hopefully not too much,” you muttered.

Soon enough the train was moving and you had finally convinced Haymitch to go out to meet the kids. You walked into the dining room as Effie, District 12’s escort was talking to the kids. “Ah, and these are Y/N and Haymitch, your mentors!” she said excitedly.

Haymitch made a beeline for the alcohol while you went to go sit in front of the tributes. “Peeta, Katniss,” you greeted.

“So where do we start?” Peeta asked eagerly.

“Woah is that how you talk to a lady?” Haymitch interrupted, bringing you your drink. You definitely weren’t as much of a drinker as Haymitch but you certainly drank to take the edge off occasionally.

“Sorry,” Peeta mumbled, looking down at his feet in embarrassment.

“Don’t be. And don’t listen to Haymitch, he’s a drunk,” you dismissed playfully. “Seriously, don’t be sorry. I know you guys are angry, scared, whatever. I’m going to try my best to help you, prepare you… get you sponsors,” you added after a second, knowing what that meant for you.

“Let me handle to sponsors,” Haymitch cut in. “And as long as you’re going to be productive, I don’t need to be here,” he said, going back to his aloof persona he presented to everyone but you. He pressed a kiss to your temple before heading back to no doubt your room, bringing a bottle of whiskey with him.

“I didn’t realize you two were…” Peeta trailed off.

“Not many people do. And we were all each other had after my games,” you shrugged. “Like I said I’m going to try to ensure your survival but I will say this— the life of a Victor is a tortured one. Keep that in mind before you’ve gone through the torture of the games only to die at the end, having fought so hard for no reason.”

“Is that really how you feel?” Katniss asked, the first words she had uttered to you.

“Yes,” you had uttered point blank. “I don’t have the same fate as most Victors but had I known what was coming I think I would’ve stepped off that platform before the timer hit zero.” They sat in your words for a second, not sure what to say. “As for the games there are two basic methods. Either go out of the gate killing everyone you can, which will make you a target and you’ll likely be killed in the bloodbath. Or you can hide for a little while, wait out the masses. As District 12 I strongly encourage you to run away from the cornucopia. That knife, sword, spear, bow and arrow,” you looked at Katniss, “whatever is not worth getting trapped by another tribute because you will more than likely lose. These careers have not only been training their entire lives, their bodies are better prepared to fight which brings me to my next advice. Eat now. Food is fuel and the more fuel you have, the longer you can go.”

“Is that how you won your games? Running away?”

“Yes and no. I stalked other tributes. The girl from district 5 my year? I waited for her to fall asleep then I stole her supplies.”

“Did you kill her in her sleep,” Katniss pressed. You felt like she was daring you to reveal yourself as a monster.

“Yes,” you relented, challenging her stare. “I cut her carotid in her sleep. I couldn’t face what I had done so I ran. I then killed every career tribute in my games by sneaking up on them and killing them from behind. So watch your back and wait for the others to show you theirs. Like I said the life of a Victor is a tortured one.”

“So should we utilize that strategy?” Peeta asked, breaking up the tension.

“Theoretically yes but there’s also strategy before the games. You’re going to be out on display, then you’re going to have three days of training, and your final chance to get sponsors before the arena is your interview. Unfortunately as District 12 you’ll probably be coal miners, I was covered in coal dust and dragged down the strip half naked but you have a new stylist so hopefully it’ll be better. As for training, focus on survival. You’re not going to learn how to throw spears of knives in three days. After three days you show off your skills to the game makers who will give you a score. The higher your score the more likely you are to get sponsors. Of course you may want to lay low for that because a low score makes you not a threat. I scored a 3, one of the lowest in history. Johanna Mason from four years ago also won that way. As for your interview, Cesar is going to try to help you as best he can so be as charming as possible but that part is ultimately out of your hands. The Capitol people love District 1, after that they pretty much tune it out,” you rolled your eyes. “Then the next morning you’re brought to the arena. Any questions?” They both stared at you blankly. “Well if you’ll excuse me there’s pretty much nothing you can do on this train to prepare except eat so…” And with that you left, going to your and Haymitch’s room.

~

The next morning you were surprised to wake up alone for the first time in seven years. You made your way to the dining car in time for Katniss to stab next to Haymitch’s hand. You immediately felt a protective surge but it was quelled by Haymitch’s words. “Look at you, just killed a placemat,” he taunted, pulling the knife out of the table. “You really want to know how you survive? You get people to like you. Not the answer you were expecting, huh? You’re in the middle of the games and you’re starving or freezing. Some water, a knife, or even a few matches can mean the difference between life and death. And those things only come from sponsors and in order to get those you need to make people like you. And right now, sweetheart, you’re not off to a very good start.” Katniss looked like a kicked puppy, her tough demeanor probably having never been questioned since she was a provider within District 12.

“There it is!” Peeta exclaimed, dragging everyone’s attention from Katniss. Out of the window you could see the shiny buildings of the Capitol across the lake. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread every time you approached the Capitol. But here Peeta was, waving at the waiting crowds.

“Better keep the knife. He knows what he’s doing,” you commented, picking up a roll before sliding out of view of the window. You’re sure Snow would punish you if the people of the Capitol saw you in your pajamas.

Making your way into the bedroom, Haymitch followed you. “You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, just have to get ready,” you dismissed, pulling out a sundress. “That was quite the speech you gave Katniss,” you changed the subject.

“She’s arrogant, she’s a fighter, she thinks she can win the games but she’s too arrogant and it rubs sponsors the wrong way.”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with rubbing the sponsors the wrong way a little,” you sighed. “May save her if she does win.”

“But she needs sponsors to win,” Haymitch argued.

“You didn’t have sponsors,” you protested.

“Yeah but look at me now, a good for nothing drunk!” Haymitch raised his voice.

“Look at me!” you yelled. “I get dragged out of my home, out of my bed, out of your arms to be a slave to the very same sponsors who saved my life and it makes me want to end it all every day!” Tears stung your eyes now.

Haymitch froze. “You actually thought about killing yourself?” he asked in a broken voice.

The tears began to fall seeing how hurt he looked. You looked down, nodding almost shamefully. “I’m so tired of being used. But I haven’t because of you. Both because it breaks my heart to hurt you that way and because you’ve given me a reason to live.”

“Y/N…” Haymitch said softly, reaching out to you.

“We have to go,” you brushed off, not wanting to deal with what you had just revealed. Wiping your tears you quickly changed before leaving the train. You put on a sweet smile, hoping your eyes weren’t too puffy as you stepped off the train, waving and smiling at the Capitol citizens.

You were quickly brought to the tribute’s building where you met up with the other trainers in the lobby. “Finnick!” you greeted your only friend.

“Y/N!” his face brightened. “How are you?” he asked greeting you with a hug.

“I’m good,” you answered. “Where’s Annie?” you asked, looking around for the redhead.

“She wanted to stay home this year so Mags filled in,” he nodded to the older woman who was listening to Beetee’s rambling. “Where’s your shadow?”

“Uh I don’t know… we got into a little spat on the train over the tributes,” you answered a little embarrassed.

Before Finnick could respond, two peacekeepers came up to you. Both yours and Finnick’s hearts dropped, not sure who they were here for. Games season was when you both were busiest. “Y/N L/N, please come with us,” one ordered.

You sighed in defeat. “Tell Haymitch,” you requested, looking at Finnick. He nodded as you walked out of the lobby, one peacekeeper behind you, the other in front.

~

Haymitch eventually stumbled into the lobby with the other former victors after quickly downing half a bottle of whiskey. His mind was reeling with the idea that you had wanted to kill yourself. But since you didn’t want to deal with it, he didn’t have to deal with it either.

He walked into the lobby, finding Chaff from 11. “Hey Chaff, have you seen Y/N?”

“Hey, I’m sorry Haymitch, haven’t seen her. I’m surprised you let her out of your sight,” Chaff chuckled. “How are you two?”

“Oh we’re good except we got in a little spat on the train. Nothing big it was just about our tributes. Thanks though, I’ll catch you later,” Haymitch said, already walking away. He searched through the faces of the crowd, becoming increasingly frantic and afraid for you. He continued scanning for yours until he spotted an all too familiar one. “Finnick!” Haymitch called.

“Haymitch! There you are,” Finnick said in relief although he still looked frantic. “Look, I gotta talk to you-”

“They took her, didn’t they?” Haymitch finished cynically. “God I let her get away from me for one minute and they swoop in like-”

“Haymitch she’ll be back before you know it,” Finnick tried to calm him down. “She’ll be alright, she’s dealt with this before.”

Haymitch didn’t say anything, instead pulling out a flask to take a swig. He felt so guilty and angry at himself for not being there for you. He also knew you were scared, every time you came back you were shaking in fear.

Soon after the mentors were allowed to go up to their rooms and Haymitch had to suffer through the long elevator ride as it had to stop at every floor to allow the other mentors to get off on their floors.

When Haymitch reached District 12’s floor he was itching for a drink, his flask having long been emptied. He made a beeline for the bar, pulling out some scotch. He took a swig, savoring the burn as a way to distract himself before pouring it into his flask for later. He then stumbled his way to his room, freezing when he saw a vase full of white roses on the dresser. He picked it up, nearly dropping it due to his anger and drunkenness, bringing it to an avox. “Get rid of it,” he ordered, knowing that it was a sign from Snow that he was always watching.

Haymitch eventually passed out, waking up only when the door whirred open. He opened his eyes to find you looking through the closet to find something to wear. The sundress you were still wearing was a little ripped at the hem and at one of the straps. When you turned around he could see hickies littering your neck and chest. Seeing what someone had done to you Haymitch lurched out of bed, realizing what he had thought were hickies covering your neck were fingerprint shaped bruises. Someone had choked you so hard they left most of their handprint on your neck and arms. Haymitch had seen you in the post sex-slave state more times than he could count but it had never been this bad. “Who did this to you?”

“It’s not like it matters, we can’t do anything,” you dismissed, your voice hoarse from crying or screaming, probably both. You went to move past him and into the bathroom but he grabbed your arm. You quickly pulled out of his grasp, his heart dropping into his stomach when he saw fear painted across your face.

“Oh- no- I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. You know I’d never hurt you,” Haymitch pleaded with you to forgive him. He couldn’t stand the thought of you being afraid of him, the one person who was supposed to protect you. “Let me start a bath,” he said, leaving no room for objection as he rushed into the bathroom.

Fortunately the Capitol’s plumbing system was way better than District 12’s because the bath filled up with warm water and bubbles in only a few minutes. Haymitch went back out into the bedroom to find you already naked, a small blanket wrapped around you. “I couldn’t stand to be in that dress anymore,” you explained bashfully.

You made your way into the bathroom looking at him hesitantly before you dropped your blanket. “I’ve seen you naked a hundred times,” Haymitch tried to laugh to lighten the mood. You tried your best to give him a smile, dropping the blanket to reveal more bruises before quickly submerging yourself into the tub. As you did, Haymitch came to kneel next to you. “Are you okay?” he asked.

You shrugged. “I will be. If this is what I’ll be doing from now on I’ll just have to get used to it I guess.”

“How long have you been suicidal?” he asked gently.

“Hay-” your protests were suddenly cut off by his voice again.

“You’ve been feeling this way for god knows how long and I never even noticed!” he said, mostly angry with himself.

You sighed. “Ever since I realized that this,” you gestured to your body, “would be my life.”

“Y/N I’m so sorry.”

“‘S not your fault,” you dismissed. “You’ve kept me alive. I’m only here because of you.” You reached a hand out to cup his jaw, running a thumb over his cheekbone. He leaned over the tub and you met him half way, enjoying his always gentle kisses compared to the rough ones the Capitol stole from you.

~

Two days of training went past and the five of you were eating dinner. “Tomorrow is your final day of training and then you’ll be individually evaluated by the game makers for your score so start to think about what you want to show them should you decide to go for a high score to get sponsors,” you advised.

“Katniss can shoot,” Peeta said. “I’ve seen it. She brings deer to us. My dad always talks about how she shoots them right in the eye, keeps the pelts from getting damaged,” he explained both optimistically and with a touch of frustration.

“Okay good, show them your skills and I can guarantee there will be a bow in the cornucopia,” Haymitch said.

“Peeta’s strong,” Katniss added, frustration evident in her tone. “I’ve seen him throw a hundred pound sack of flour over his head.”

“I’m not going to kill anyone with flour,” he protested.

“But you can fight. You have a chance-”

“I have no chance!” Peeta interrupted Katniss. “When my mother came to say goodbye she said District 12 may finally have a winner. She wasn’t talking about me, she was talking about you!” The table sat in stunned silence. I felt for him, it’s hard to go into the arena with absolutely no one cheering you on. He stormed off, Katniss following not even a minute later along with Effie shouting about manners.

Uncomfortable with the lingering tension you turned to Haymitch, a playfully quizzical look on your face. “Why’d he say ‘District 12 may finally have a winner?’ I won 7 years ago.”

Haymitch chuckled into his glass. “I don’t know about you but everyone remembers my victory.”

“That was like 24 years ago, grandpa,” you poked fun at him.

He laughed, grabbing a bottle of wine. “Take your glass,” he said with a mischievous smile. You didn’t question him, grabbing your glass and following him, giggling like a teenager.

He led you to the back of the penthouse where there was a decently hidden set of stairs that led to the rooftop. You stood in awe of the sparkling city below you. “Y’know as hellish as this place actually is it’s very pretty at night,” Haymitch said, taking a gulp of wine.

“You're right about that one,” you agreed, reaching for the bottle to fill up your glass. You turned your attention upward, disappointed to see the sky. “There’s no stars because of all the light,” you commented sadly.

“At least it’s not covered in smog,” Haymitch offered, referring to the eternal coal smoke emanating from District 12.

“Do you remember that night we spent in District 11 during my tour? The sky was so clear you could actually count the stars.”

“Hmm I remember making you see stars,” Haymitch said cheekily.

You gave him a playfully scolding look, “Shut up.” While sex in the Capitol was a job to you— a task you had to complete— sex with Haymitch was about intimacy. You had been hesitant at first, still traumatized by your first experience but Haymitch allowed you to take your time and eventually you were close enough with him to go all the way.

“What?” he laughed, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Are you seriously going to tell me I’m wrong?”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head a little. “Don’t get too cocky,” you giggled. Haymitch laughed too as he tilted your head back to meet your lips in a drunken kiss.

Part I | Masterlist | Part III