#finnick is a not so great friend but hes gonna try better | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ilguna · 3 years ago

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Berceuse - Chapter Three

summary: you can’t protect her forever.

warnings; swearing.

wc; 10.8k

NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

Alyssum sits alone at a table, picking at her nails while she waits for the Gamemakers to finally start calling in tributes to their private sessions. After what happened on the first day of training, she’d been given a very specific set of instructions by you and Finnick.

And to sum it all up; she’s supposed to keep her head down and pass through training with no other problems. Do what she wants to do, play with weapons and refresh her survival skills, and keep the hell away from people unless she’s going to be nice. Alyssum hasn’t been put in timeout for years, but this feels exactly like it.

As for Paslee, he was told that if he killed Alyssum in any sort of way, directly or indirectly, and ended up winning the Hunger Games, he’d never be forgiven and he’d live to regret it. Not only would he have to live with the guilt of her death, he’d also be stuck with a bunch of victors--maybe a whole district--that loathes him.

Needless to say, the careers haven’t bothered Alyssum either, especially with Paslee there to redirect them when they come close. Which was hardly ever, Alyssum kept close to the survival stations, and even joined Katniss and Peeta when she felt like she could learn something with them, not wanting to show off.

Although, it’s no secret that she knows stuff that the others do not.

If it comes down to just her in the arena in two days--which she has a feeling it will--there’s not a single doubt in her mind that she’ll be able to survive. If she can’t fight, it’s fine, because she doesn’t need to know how. As long as she can clean water, hunt animals, and stay out of sight, she’ll be fine.

The only people Alyssum has warmed up to are Katniss and Peeta. She’s not entirely sure that it matters in the end though, because they haven’t shown a lick of knowledge when it comes to fighting. Of course, she doesn’t have much experience herself, but at least she went to the stations to figure some stuff out.

Alyssum rests her head on her hand, right as a Gamemaker comes over the intercom, calling for Marvel, from District One. Her eyes shift over to see the tallest boy out of the career group stand, sharing a smile with her friends. She closes her eyes after that, and lets the clock on the wall tick away, counting down the minutes until it’s her turn.

After Marvel is Glimmer, then Cato, then Clove. They don’t return after they’ve been called into their session, which is good news to her. They’d probably brag if they came back inside, and she’s not really in the mood to listen to that. She’s already had to endure their constant chatter and laughter, talk about a headache.

The girl from District Three is then called, setting Paslee up to go next. When Alyssum looks over to him, curious about what he looks like right now, they lock eyes. He doesn’t stare for long, quickly shifting his eyes back to his own empty table that he’s sitting at.

As soon as Paslee is called, Alyssum begins counting down the time, eyes never leaving the clock. Five minutes, then ten. The nerves in her stomach sprout, and then make her sick when she thinks about her skills. What will she show the Gamemakers that she hasn’t already? The clock hits fifteen, and it’s only a couple seconds later, when they’re calling her name.

She slides off of the bench, standing up to her full height, which isn’t much, before starting her way to the door. She can feel her heart beating in her chest, and despite trying her best to ignore it, it’s loud. The doors open for her automatically, letting her inside, and sealing behind her to ensure she can’t go back.

The Gamemakers are all sitting together in a box, dressed in dark robes. Over these past few days during lunch, they’d go and speak to the experts from the stations, huddled together with the head trainer, too. They made it no secret that they had been discussing tributes, with occasional gestures and glances to the tables they were sitting at.

Now, it’s only her and them. It’s Alyssum’s turn to show them a secret skill, something she hadn’t wanted the other tributes to know for obvious reasons. As long as she has one deadly idea, then she might be alright.

The good news is that she has their attention. One Gamemaker motions for her to start, and she takes the initiative, turning her body towards the weapons, because she’s shown them what she can do with survival skills. The experts have told them how good she is at the stations. The only thing they don’t know is how handy she is with a knife.

She has you to thank for this skill.

This is one of the moments where Alyssum has to be grateful over the fact that you never left her defenseless. You have been drilling the idea of handling knives into her head since she turned nine.

So, when she walks up to the table, with all the differently carved knives on a pretty display, she picks up the first knife and doesn’t worry about the length, or the weight. Alyssum knows she has to find solutions in the face of discomfort. How will she combat it in one throw?

The knife she holds is too light, which is a problem she’s not used to. A part is telling her that now isn’t the time to overcome a challenge, it’ll put her score at risk. Then again, she hasn’t had the chance to play with knives for days, she should just enjoy it while she can.

Alyssum looks over the handle to see that it’s carved in the shape of a flower. Delicate, and the petals dig into her palm if she squeezes it too lightly, she’s careful not to. Her body turns towards the Gamemakers, holding the knife up in her hand by her thumb. In her time of training at the boarding school, Alyssum has only heard whispers about what actually happened during your private session, and she’s your sister.

There is one aspect that the story always revolves around, and it’s a knife. You somehow used a knife to score a ten. Alyssum wishes that could be the case for her, to show the same impressive skill you had, but it’s going to be impossible. She’s twelve, not fifteen. She has to keep her expectations realistic, and that’s why she’s aiming for an eight.

Without warning, she spins back to the targets at the knife station, arm drawn so far back that it hurts. Her eyes land on one of the bodies hanging up by a rope, fingers releasing the knife as she throws. It slices through the air quickly, no weight holding it back, and slams into the middle of the forehead.

She makes a face, looking back down at the other knives at display. There are four more copies of the knife she just threw, but she picks up one that’s on the opposite end, and finds it to be much heavier than an average knife. It clicks in her head then, that they’re laid out from least to most heaviest. If she picked out one in the middle, it’d probably work better for her.

With this one, she takes more time to get used to the weight, holding it in her palm to analyze where it’s coming from. The blade is thick, made of real metal, the blade sharp to the touch. However, it’s the handle of it that’s making it harder to hold. If she throws it, the knife is going to be more bottom heavy.

She can’t throw it by the blade this time, then.

Alyssum rolls her wrist a couple of times, and then throws, watching as the knife slams into the skull of the dummy hard enough for it to make a ��thump’ sound on impact. She’s pleased to see that there’s barely an inch gap between the two weapons, side by side, parallel.

It goes on like this, with her bouncing back and forth between knives, throwing them at various parts of the body. Chest, elbows, knees, shoulders. It isn’t until she realizes that she has one knife left, the one that feels just right in her palm, does she see just how much she’s gone through.

A small smile appears on her face, just before she throws this knife too, lodging it where the throat should be.

Her heart is still pounding in her ears, sucking in deep breaths through her nose while she turns to the Gamemakers, who have all suddenly stopped to watch her. She raises her chin slightly, and gives a firm nod. She’s done. She’s shown them all her one secret.

They dismiss her, and she takes a different door to leave the gymnasium. As soon as that door closes behind her, she breathes out in relief. Inside of the elevator, she takes the time to calm her marathon breathing, because there’s no need to worry anymore. She did it, she made it through another obstacle of the Hunger Games.

Her next focus will be the interview, and then the arena, itself.

When she walks inside of the apartment, she’s able to see you sitting on the couch with Elysia, a leg tucked beneath you. The conversation looks lighthearted, nothing important. Caesar Flickerman is already on the television, talking about what the scores might look like for this year. As if the tributes ever change drastically enough to change the prediction.

“I’m back.” Alyssum announces, catching your attention. She gives a look to the hallway, wondering if Paslee is hiding in his room.

She partially wants to ask him what the Gamemakers had done for him, if they fell silent when he showed them his special skill. Or if he’s not as special, because he’s seventeen, and he’s a career. He’s expected to have a large set of skills, therefore it’s nothing to bat their eyes at.

Either way, she doesn’t see him nearby, he must have gone straight to his room after talking to you. Alyssum’s probably going to do the same, and take a hot shower to try and relax. She has a feeling that it’s going to be nearly impossible to do, considering her whole life in the arena depends on this score.

“How was it?” you ask, turning your body to her more.

Alyssum wanders forward, “I didn’t mess up once.”

A smile appears on your face, “That’s great!”

“When do we get to see the scores?”

“After dinner,” Elysia sits up slightly, “The stylists will be joining us, too.”

Alyssum makes a face, “I’m gonna go shower and get ready, then.”

She doesn’t wait for either of them to say anything else, heading up the steps and into the hallway so that she can go to her room. She only gets a few steps in before stopping near her door, holding her breath. She can faintly hear that you and Elysia have resumed your conversation, and waits to see if she can hear anything about Paslee.

The only thing she’s able to catch is that Paslee is also confident that he scored highly. After that, the door in front of her opens, and Alyssum barely has enough time to jump to pretend she’s still going for her room. Paslee stands in the doorway, staring at her, eyes slowly lowering into a squint.

She smiles, “Just came back.”

She leaves, makes sure that her door shuts behind her, and goes the extra mile to lock it to ensure that there won’t be any unwanted guests. If Paslee thinks that he did well during his session, then that means she should expect a score higher than eight tonight. For her, it’s unheard of for any twelve year old to get higher than a seven, but judging by the Gamemaker’s reactions, she might just barely make the cut that qualifies her as a career.

All she can do right now is cross her fingers and hope.

Alyssum picks out a nice outfit for the dinner, and then wanders into the bathroom. She peels off the training outfit, which has begun to feel like a second skin during these past couple of days. Of course, she’s given a freshly cleaned outfit everyday, but that doesn’t mean that they stink from sweat any less.

In the shower, she washes herself from head to toe, and it isn’t until she’s done, does she realize just how scorching hot the water is. And with her senses finally returning to her--after reliving her private session with the Gamemakers the entire shower--she shuts off the water and rubs at her skin carefully, not liking the sensitive feeling.

Her body and hair is blow-dried, she pulls on her new outfit, feeling much better already. She brings a couple of hair ties with her to the window in her room, sitting on the floor to watch the city below. She can’t imagine the frenzy that the Capitol people must be in right now, desperate to get their evening activities done as soon as possible before the scores air.

She ends up with a bun on the back of her head, wanting her hair to be off the back of her neck.

She sits there for a while, watching the cars below. Her thoughts are stuck on her brothers, what they’re doing at the moment, if they’re calm, if they’re worried. This is the second time that they’re having to go through this, an occasion that doesn’t happen often. Of course, siblings volunteer all the time, like Marsh and Paslee, but the chances of them winning are slim. Very few can come out like Gloss and Cashmere, sibling victors who are very good friends of yours.

The difference here is that Alyssum didn’t volunteer, she was chosen, just like how you were chosen nine years prior. And her odds are low, lower than yours ever were. If she’s going to make it out alive, she’s going to have to be sneakier, more clever than you ever were, which is going to be impossible to do. The wolf in sheep’s clothing tributes never make it very far anymore.

Not to mention, she’s already fucked up her chances at playing that role off, anyway. Her stunt in the gymnasium gave her attitude away to everyone in that room, and the careers didn’t make it a secret that she was going to be a target. She knows that she shouldn’t beat herself up over it, especially considering that she’s done that enough already, but she screwed herself over.

Royally.

About half an hour later, there’s a knock at her door. It’s Elysia, telling her that dinner is ready when she is. Alyssum pulls on a pair of flats before leaving her room to join everyone else at the table. Just as Elysia had promised earlier, the stylists are at the table.

Alyssum takes her spot at the table, and immediately there’s questions being asked about their private sessions. She’s a little stingy on the answers, she’s not allied with Paslee anymore, which means that whatever information she gives up about herself now, can be spun and told to the careers. For Paslee, however, he doesn’t spare details.

She has a feeling that it’s because he wants to build an image for you and Finnick, that he’s not all bad and he does have some potential. It also might have something to do with earlier, when she was basically caught eavesdropping. She waits patiently for him to finish what he’s saying, since she already found a way to crumble the flimsy sandcastle he’s been building.

“That reminds me,” Alyssum says, looking between you and Finnick, “Is it normal for the Gamemakers to be just… silent?”

You sit up, “What do you mean?”

She shrugs, “They weren’t talking or anything, during or after I was showing them my skill.”

Elysia turns her attention to Paslee, who’s beginning to lose the smile on his face, “What about you?”

“I--um,” his face twists, “A few of them were talking, but most of them were watching me.”

You and Finnick are sharing a look. Finnick tilts his head to the side, turning his attention back to the food in front of him, “Well, can’t say I’m surprised.”

“To answer your question,” you begin slowly, “No, that isn’t normal. I didn’t even have undivided attention.”

Finnick nods in agreement, “We should talk later on why that happened.”

Alyssum nods, eating her food while trying not to smile. The bragging from Paslee is done, she can tell by his sudden interest in his food, which he had been shunning earlier.

Once everyone is done eating, they migrate to the living room, where they all take their different positions while they wait for the scores to air. Alyssum has her legs criss-crossed beneath her, rubbing her knees to bring them some warmth.

Once Caesar is done with the formalities, he jumps right into scores, starting with District One, boys first. The boy gets a nine, the girl an eight, the boy’s score is normal, but Alyssum finds herself hung up over the girl’s score. What did she do to be so terrible? There’s hardly any time to think about it, as Cato gets a ten and Clove gets the same.

She hums.

A hand appears on her shoulder, giving it a small massage. It’s you, it’s always your go-to move when Alyssum is feeling stressed or nervous. She has to admit that this is an unforeseen twist of events. Clove is a lot better than Aly took her for, which means that it’s going to come back and bite later.

Paslee’s face appears on screen, Caesar gives a nod, and then announces that his score is a ten, too. Cheers and congratulations rain on him, as it’s a big achievement. Alyssum isn’t as worried about Paslee as she is about Clove. She already knows that he’s not allowed to directly kill her, he’ll just be messing with his relationship with you and Finnick. Which is not a gamble that most tributes want to play with their mentors.

When it’s Alyssum’s turn, the room falls into a hush, the anticipation building. Her picture comes in, and Caesar takes a moment to look over the score. A proud smile builds on his face, looking at the camera again before he says, “Alyssum Gallows, with a score of eight.”

More cheering, Alyssum can feel the balloon pop and dissipate in her chest, relief taking over. She scored high, that’s all she wanted. She’s allowed within the career playground now, she’s one of them. All there’s left to do is blow away the competition during the interviews and she’s golden for the arena.

“Amazing!” Elysia cheers, clapping quickly.

“Never done before, I don’t think.” Laurel says to Pleurisy, she’s nodding in agreement.

You pull Alyssum in for a hug, “Good job, Aly.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you and Finnick,” she murmurs back, squeezing your arm.

“What’s the plan for tomorrow?” Paslee asks.

Elysia clears her throat and stands, she’s probably going to be the first to leave, “You two will be preparing for the interviews, there’s a lot of work to do on you both. I will start with Alyssum, you’ll be with (Y/n) and Finnick for four hours, and then we’ll switch. You’ll get more details about what you’re doing tomorrow, I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

Paslee stands, and stretches his arms above his head with a yawn.

“We’ll get you up tomorrow if you’re not already.” Finnick says.

“Thank you,” he starts out of the living room, “For the training all these years, it looks like it paid off.”

“Just keep up with that spirit and we’ll be even,” you tell him, “Goodnight.”

“‘Night.”

Just as he takes off to his room, Caesar’s finishing up with District Twelve. Their tributes normally always score low, so no one normally pays attention, yet the television hasn’t been shut off just yet. Alyssum watches as Peeta receives an eight, making Paslee stop moving, halfway into the hallway already.

The room’s buzz dies out into silence once again, which means that no one misses when Katniss gets an eleven.

Alyssum stares for a moment, and then looks over to Paslee, who seems to be just as awestruck as she is. She may only be twelve, but never in her life has she seen a Twelve tribute score any higher than a five, which is their average score in the first place. Aly can’t help it when she looks at you and Finnick, waiting for some sort of a reaction.

It comes from Laurel first, “That stylist of hers has really set the stage for them.” she’s scowling, “We should get going so we can fix the interview outfits again.”

Pleurisy gets to her feet, “And we were nearly done this time, too. We’ll see you later.”

They leave, the door shutting behind them with a click. No one wants to move from where they’re standing or sitting. It’s a few more beats before you clear your throat, getting to your feet, “Well, she sure knows how to pick ‘em.”

“We should go have that talk on the balcony,” Finnick says.

“Do you think that it was a mistake?” Paslee asks hopefully.

“The Gamemakers never make a mistake that severe,” Elysia snuffs, heading to leave.

You nod, “She’s right, Katniss must have done something fantastic in order to get a score that good. My only advice to you now is not to go after Katniss purposely.”

He nods, turning away and going up the steps. He disappears into the hallway, Elysia is nowhere to be seen. The only people left are the Gallows family, gathered together in a triangle, sharing a look of doubt between them. You let out a sigh, placing your hand on Aly’s lower back as you guide her to the balcony, where the wind will be too loud to try and eavesdrop through.

“What exactly happened?” you ask her, and Alyssum doesn’t waste time reciting her time with the Gamemakers. From beginning to end, every single detail is given up, and it’s clear that she’s been dying to share, because she forgets to take breaths of air between sentences.

By the time she’s done speaking, she’s waiting anxiously for your guys’ assessment of what happened, and what it means. It obviously has to be good in some aspect, considering that she just pulled an eight. The other twelve year-old girl had only gotten a seven, which is pretty good, considering her odds, but it’s not career worthy.

“I feel like they were holding back on her score,” Finnick murmurs, leaning up against the railing, staring out at the city lights, “If she didn’t miss a single target with perfect accuracy, she should’ve gotten a higher score.”

“Yeah, but if they scored her higher, then that means she would have a bigger target on her back.”

“Publicity, though.”

“And they’d have to admit that not only is District Four training their tributes, so are One and Two. They’d have to do something about it.”

“She’s your sister, though. We know the way they score tributes and why they do it, she should have gotten a nine.” Finnick looks at you.

“You got a nine,” you remind Finnick, “And with what you showed them, they would have to reevaluate their whole scoring system just to allow her to be a nine.”

“That’s my point, they’ve changed so much, this shouldn’t have been a big deal.”

A sigh escapes you, “I’m grateful for the fact that she even got an eight in the first place. Like I said earlier, she would’ve had a bigger target on her back, and we already agreed that she should be watching her moves so the careers aren’t going after her specifically.”

Finnick makes a face, not liking this conclusion, but turns his attention back to Aly anyway, “You did good, kid. As for Katniss and Peeta, I would be careful trying to be their ally. You know that the careers will want them now.”

“Take advantage of that,” you cup her face, making her look at you, “Their eyes won’t be on you, which is a perfect distraction.”

You place a kiss on her forehead, “I’ll try.”

“Good.” you say, “Go to bed, Elysia will be working you from start to end. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, love you.”

“I love you too, Aly.”

When Elysia wakes Alyssum the following morning, she waits by the door until Alyssum sits up, after that she takes off. Aly takes her time going through the closet, since there’s no set outfit that Laurel had planned. She throws on some jeans and a shirt, then moves onto the bathroom to do the rest of her morning routine.

By the time she’s done and moving onto the dining room, everyone is already at the table eating. She takes her seat, and listens as you, Finnick and Elysia go back and forth on meaningless things. Mostly about the scores and what the other tributes had gotten. It seems as if you and Finnick went back to rewatch the scores, just in case any other big scores were missed.

And they had, the boy from District Eleven had scored a ten, not a big surprise. Both Paslee and Alyssum offer up what little information they observed inside of the Training Center. Just that he’s intimidating and is clearly hiding some serious skills, as he didn’t do much when it came to training.

When food comes at a slow pace, it’s time to get the four hours started. Alyssum drinks the rest of her hot chocolate, wipes her mouth, and follows Elysia back to her room.

It’s clear that Elysia has been doing this for years, because there’s not a single second of hesitation in her movements. She pulls out a long dress and heels for Alyssum to put on while she rearranges the chairs to fit her needs. Before Alyssum is allowed to sit, she’s required to walk around the room to allow Elysia to assess her.

She’s wobbly, it’s not a secret. There are several times where Elysia jerks to catch Aly when she begins to fall. Elysia mentions something about the carpet isn’t helping, but that doesn’t mean they get to change environments. They spend a good thirty minutes on just this, and by the end of it, Aly’s not half bad.

The next three and a half hours are tiring. Elysia fixes posture, corrects the way she sits several times, and has a whole segment on tweaking manners. A smile at the end of every sentence, or at the beginning, how to do a polite pause--Aly can’t believe that’s even a thing--and so on. She’s sure that Elysia is making it all up, until she gives a perfect example of all of her teachings thrown together in just a sentence.

Alyssum is dumbfounded.

“Well?” Elysia asks after a long moment of silence.

Alyssum’s face is twisted, “I feel like I could skip over all of this and the Capitol wouldn’t care.”

Elysia lets out a laugh, covering her mouth, “You’re lucky my four hours is over. It’s time for lunch.”

Alyssum changes back into her original outfit, helps Elysia put the room back together, and finds that Paslee is still working with you two. It isn’t until Alyssum has sat at the table, and is begun to be served lunch, do you realize that time is up.

Lunch is quick, Alyssum offers Paslee good luck in passing. She can’t imagine what he’ll be doing for four hours with Elysia if that’s what she just went through. He’s confused, she smiles, and joins you and Finnick in the sitting room while Elysia directs him to his room.

Alyssum doesn’t even get to sit down before Finnick is turning to you, “Okay, let me speak and then you can object.”

You raise your eyebrows, “So it’s not going to be something that I like?”

“Hear me out first.” Finnick says, and then looks at Alyssum, “If we tried to do some delicate personality on her, then she'd be looked over, which is what I originally suggested. However, laying low was ruined her first day of training, so we can’t just keep working with it.”

You stare at Finnick, “You’re suggesting we try and make her aggressive? Do you see her?”

“The Capitol doesn’t know what happened that first day of training, but the other tributes did. And now that everyone has seen her score, any facade that we were trying to give off, is ruined. There’s no point in trying to fool the other tributes.” Finnick explains, “That was the whole point of her being careful, right?”

“Yes, but I’m not entirely sure how the Capitol is going to react to her being anything other than innocent.”

He smiles, “Won’t know until we try.”

“This is not a game.”

“It isn’t, and still we took a chance exactly like this when we sent Marsh into the interviews with a comedy skit.”

It’s weird for Alyssum to see you and Finnick like this outside of the boarding school. You two have your moments like these all the time, banter back and forth until a solution is worked out. It’s how the two of you work through problems, minor or not. No matter what happens, though, you two never do it at home. And if you do, it’s never been in front of Alyssum.

Either way, Alyssum thinks that he’s won you over.

“Okay, say we do go through with this,” you start, Finnick sits up taller, “What’s her play? She’s not intimidating, she’s too small for that. She doesn’t look aggressive, and proved that during the tribute parade, and she’s my sister.”

“Exactly, she’s your sister. They all know what happened during our games, how we won, how we got there. It doesn’t matter what she looks like or what she did, she just has to try right now. It’s all about playing pretend.”

There’s a pause of silence as you look her over, gears turning in your head, “Okay, what do you suggest?”

“Aloof.”

Their eyes turn back to Alyssum, she raises her eyebrows, trying not to smile.

“We can make that work.”

They start getting to work on her after that, giving examples on how she can be aloof. Once again, she finds out that she’s really not bad at it, if she relaxes enough, it can come naturally. When they’re sure she has the personality down, they begin the questions that force her to open up or shut them out in order to keep it intact.

She’s good at it, picking which questions get to pass long enough to tell the Capitol a little about herself. They already know about her family, even if all the information is outdated now. She needs to tell them about her, how she went from that toddler in the family interview to a girl earning an eight on her training score.

After talking about herself, she’s then asked to say some stuff about the Capitol. It doesn’t come as naturally, since you and Finnick haven’t made your hatred for the Capitol a secret by any means. It’s rubbed off on her over the years, and recently it’s only begun to get worse. She’s stuck trying to find little things that will satisfy the Capitol’s curiosity on her experience thus far.

When she’s told to stop, she’s relieved but worried. You lean back on the chair you sit in, stretching your arms above your head, “She’s too much like me, I clammed up when it came to the Capitol, too.”

“Then don’t talk about the Capitol,” Finnick suggests, “Change the topic to something else, like home.”

“That would work better.” You say, readjusting.

And so it starts again, this time much smoother. You’re satisfied with her answers, shift gears, and tell her that in the last hour that you three have together, she’s going to pretend as if she’s actually being interviewed. You’ll be the one asking questions, Finnick will be the audience and judge by how they would react, and Alyssum has to throw all of her knowledge together. This includes what Elysia had taught her.

She doesn’t know how you know so many questions, or why they come so effortlessly, but there’s hardly a break between questions. Finnick will gasp, clap, sit in silence, and shake his head depending on answers. If it’s appropriate, she’ll elaborate on answers, which Finnick will nod encouragingly to tell her that it’s good and she should keep going.

The second that their four hours is up, Alyssum is on her feet, ready to be done with the mock interview. Her jaw hurts from talking so much, and she’s got a headache going on. At least you and Finnick seem to be satisfied with her results, because it’s nothing but smiles on your guys’ part.

Elysia comes out a minute later, dusting her hands and placing them on her hips, “They’re ready for tomorrow.”

“Yes, they are.” You agree.

Dinner is quiet and uneventful, both tributes had been given more than enough time to learn everything needed. They eat their dinner, and stick by long enough for you to tell them that they don’t have matching outfits for the interviews anymore. The two of them had completely forgotten to update Laurel and Pleurisy about it.

“Thank us later,” Finnick smiles.

“It still has the same idea to it, doesn’t it?” Alyssum asks.

“For you, yes. Paslee has something different.” You say.

Paslee shrugs, not bothered, “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“The stylists aren’t starting at noon tomorrow, so I wouldn’t stay up late if I were you.”

He doesn’t say anything back. Alyssum begins to push her plates and bowls away from her, getting ready to leave. She can imagine that it’s going to be a busy morning tomorrow, and knowing her nerves, she’s not going to be able to fall asleep easily.

“I’m going to go, too.” she says, smiling, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Aly. Love you.”

“Love you too,” she chirps, heading into her room.

She stands before her bed for a few seconds, not feeling tired. A part of her just wants to sit in the shower and let the warmth rain on her, but she knows that the prep team will undoubtedly have her do that tomorrow, anyways.

Alyssum lays in bed for a while, staring at the ceiling, occasionally out the window. She misses her bed, back home it wouldn’t matter if she’s exhausted or not, she could always fall asleep in her bed. Not to mention all the soft blankets that she’s collected over the years. The only way she’ll ever feel comfort like that again, is if she somehow manages to pull off a win.

She’s got a footing, she can’t deny it. Laurel is her stylist, you’re her older sister, Finnick’s her brother-in-law. She’s been training for five years now, Paslee too. There’s spotlight on her, she’s managed to score an eight, and made semi-friends with Katniss and Peeta.

All she has to do is not screw this up, which is easier said than done.

She’s twelve years-old, no one has ever won at twelve, Finnick is the youngest victor for a reason. She made enemies with another career, who’s fifteen and bigger than her, and scored a ten. Clove is going to have some influence over the career pack, which means that if she wants to hunt down Alyssum, she’s not going to get any opposition.

And Alyssum doesn’t have any real allies, she has to keep that in mind too. Katniss and Peeta were a nice thought, but she didn’t secure any sort of deal with them. She’s on her own inside of the arena, and that can be the safest bet sometimes. Only, when situations get sticky, it’s good to have that extra pair of hands.

She’s screwed inside of that arena, and that’s all she can think about.

The prep team scares Alyssum awake when they appear in the morning. Cleo’s pulling her into a sitting position, she can hear the shower running in the bathroom, and Leo is pulling chairs around to rearrange the room. She and Elysia had worked so hard to get everything looking back to normal too…

“Rise and shine!” Cleo laughs, “You sleep like the dead.”

No, that’s not right. Alyssum doesn’t even remember falling asleep, much less getting drowsy. It must have been some time after three did she fall asleep, because that’s the last time she checked the clock before rolling over to stare out the window again.

“What time is it?” Aly asks, rubbing her eyes.

“Ten thirty, which is why we’ve got to start.”

She follows their directions, dragging her feet the entire way. They start with a shower to jumpstart her, pressing buttons that she hadn’t considered using before. They wash her hair, and make her use a special body wash so she smells sugary. When she’s done, her hair is like silk and almost doesn’t feel real.

They dress her in undergarments, and that’s as far as they go with clothing. Beth takes her time on Alyssum’s hair, humming a song to herself. Cleo and Leo go back and forth between talking and arguing about certain things. No matter what happens, Beth doesn’t get in the middle of it.

All of her nails are painted white with hollow pink circles placed in specific areas. Once Cleo moves out of the way, Leo gets to work with makeup. It’s the last time she’s able to see what Beth is doing to her hair, which has so far consisted of straightening it. Beth must’ve been waiting for this part, because it’s when she really starts getting to work.

Laurel must want the reveal to be a surprise, then. Alyssum gets comfortable with her eyes closed, tuning in and out when she feels like pitching in her own opinions. Mostly she’s letting her imagination take her on a ride on what the arena might look like. The possibilities are endless, of course. If it doesn’t have anything to do with water, she hopes it won’t be a desert, at the very least.

Alyssum can’t stand hot climates, she’d rather freeze at night than spend an entire day sweating, going back and forth getting water. Dehydration is a nightmare, and she won’t want to live through it long enough to be declared a victor.

Beth then says she’s done, spraying hairspray on Alyssum’s hair, it smells just as good as her body wash did. They have to wait until Leo is done before they have her get up and turn her back to the mirror and window. Cleo shakes a can, Aly holds her arms out so that Cleo can get to every single area.

The initial spray is cold, but the longer she circles Alyssum, the more she gets used to the feeling. Whatever it is, it’s glittery, just not to the point that it’s overwhelming. When Alyssum manages to sneak a wipe on the wall, curious if it’ll transfer, it stays stuck to her skin.

“Don’t worry,” Leo says, as if he’s reading her mind, “It’ll come off when you shower tonight.”

That’s good news, she won’t be an obvious target each time she steps into the sun.

She continues to stand in the corner, waiting for Laurel to finally come by. Cleo twists hair around her finger, listening to Beth talk about what she plans to do with her hair. All it takes is for Leo to ask her to do his hair too, and she lightens up and asks what he wants done. This is the most Alyssum’s heard Beth talk since she got here.

As soon as the door opens, conversation dies out. Alyssum is instructed to close her eyes again while Laurel looks her over. Once it’s approved, the dress is brought in, and Alyssum has to navigate it with her eyes closed. Cleo is there to hold her hand and steady Aly when she needs it, but for the most part she’s useless. After the dress, comes the heels.

She expects she’ll be allowed to open her eyes after this part, but they insist on putting the finishing touches on her first. Dangly earrings, she can tell by the feeling. A few rings on her fingers, a necklace, one bracelet, and even go as far to give her an ankle bracelet too. Then Beth remembers the headband that she was supposed to put on Alyssum,

“She’s beautiful.” Cleo sighs, “Can we show her now?”

“Yes,” Laurel says, she sounds happy too.

Alyssum is shuffled in front of the mirror, and with a countdown from her prep team, she’s allowed to open her eyes. She doesn’t recognize who stands in front of her. Alyssum has dressed up at home before, the day of the reaping being a good example of that, however she’s never gone this far before.

Her hair is down and curled at the ends, and the white fabric headband in the middle. She can’t pinpoint what color her eyeshadow is, each time she moves her head to get a better angle to look at herself, it changes into a different pastel color. She knows she has rainbow highlights on her cheeks, at the very least. She also has winged eyeliner and fake eyelashes to bring more attention to her face.

Her earrings are rose gold and have little flowers spread throughout the chain. As for her dress, the upper half is like a tank top with how thick the straps are, it's a very smooth material. And the bottom half of it resembles layered petals, almost like a rose, that ends at her knees. It’s stiff enough to keep the bell look, but moves when touched. It has that lenticular look that her eyeshadow does, only with more glitter--that also doesn’t transfer.

The bracelet is a simple gold chain with dainty flower charms on it, her rings are also gold. Some have flowers, others have little designs that keep with the theme that Laurel has given her. Her ankle bracelet matches the one on her wrist, and her shoes are see-through with straps around her ankles.

No matter how she moves, she catches the light and changes colors. The colors match, too. Alyssum’s not sure how they managed to pull that one off, but they did it perfectly. If her eyeshadow goes green, so does her dress. However, it seems as if the colors mostly keep in the range of red, pink or orange.

“This is amazing,” Alyssum moves to a different angle, and catches the light pink that they must have been modeling the outfit after.

“It was your idea.” Laurel smiles.

“You managed to pull it off, though, I can’t take the credit for this,” Alyssum looks at her stylist, “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” she looks at her watch, “I think it’s time for us to get to the elevator, so look her over.”

The prep team circles Alyssum for a full minute, checking and double-checking areas to make sure they aren’t missing anything. Once they’re sure they haven’t missed anything, they escort Alyssum out of her room and straight to the elevator. Elysia is standing by it, talking to you and Finnick. You two have also dressed up for the occasion.

“It’s a shame I’m not your stylist anymore, because you two look like shit.” Laurel says, causing you and Finnick to turn around.

“Excuse me?” your voice is sharp, “We made your career, the least you could have is some respect!”

Finnick places his hands on his hips, “What she said.”

You can’t hold the serious face you were trying to keep, a snort comes from Finnick as you dissolve into laughter. Once the two of you are collected enough, your attention turns to Alyssum, “Look at you! Reed and Mox are going to love this.”

Alyssum smiles, doing a small curtsy, “Will Caesar be able to compare us?”

“No, not at all,” Laurel says, “We designed you specifically like this to avoid any comparisons, you need to be yourself for just one night.”

“I was in blue and silver, you’re in the clear, trust me.” you smile.

“And pink is definitely your color.” Finnick says, you elbow his ribs.

“I can’t believe you guys got done before Pleurisy.” Elysia says, “That’s a miracle.”

Finnick clears his throat, “You didn’t hear it from me, but apparently Paslee was acting like a diva.”

Elysia coughs, trying to hide her laugh. Alyssum presses her lips together, looking at the elevator. You and Finnick share two different looks, trying to get the other to lose it. Laurel shakes her head for a long while… until Cleo snorts and the hallway erupts into laughter.

Which is right on time for the door to open and Pleurisy to walk out, rolling her eyes, “Sorry we’re late.”

Paslee is the last out of the apartment, dressed in a gentle pink suit that has a white undershirt. He gives a smile to Alyssum, raising his eyebrows as if he’s impressed. With what she just heard, though, she can’t help but laugh.

“Let’s go,” Elysia says, pressing the button to the elevator.

They all crowd inside, being careful to conceal the two tributes in the middle of bodies, not wanting them to be the first people seen when the doors open. Elysia, Laurel and Pleurisy lead them out just far enough for you and Finnick to say what you want to before the interviews.

“Okay,” you breathe, “I hope you two already realize that you’re mildly matching.”

“Yes,” Paslee says, Alyssum nods.

“No back-handed compliments to the Capitol,” Finnick starts, “they don’t like it, and neither would you two. Compliment them on something at least once during the interview if you can fit it in, don’t force it.”

“Tell the truth as much as you can, if you have to lie to keep things interesting, we’ll lie with you. The sky is your limit, just keep the boarding school out of it at all costs, we can’t let it get shut down.” You continue, “Keep in character, don’t go out of it. They know it’s a facade already, but they love pretending it’s real.”

“If you don’t like a question, let Caesar down gently. Be short, yet give enough information to make sure it satisfies and move onto another topic. He’ll never go back and bring it up again. He’ll likely split it up into three categories.” Finnick holds out his fingers, “The Capitol, family, and you. He’s going to stress on the last two because you’re siblings of tributes that have gone in before. You’re like an update, and the Capitol will eat it up.”

You smile, “If either of you get nervous, we’re in the crowd, and so are your stylists and prep teams. Find us if you need reassurance, but you have to look around, especially to the balconies. Don’t forget the people up there.”

It’s silent for a beat or two, and then Finnick’s lips are also turning upwards into a smile, “It’s only three minutes.”

Alyssum and Paslee are told to stand behind the District Three tributes, with Aly in front of him. Unlike the private training session, for the interviews, it’s ladies first. Which is good, because Alyssum doesn’t want to be shadowed by Paslee.

With tributes arriving slowly, she’s able to take in how the interviews are going to work. As soon as everyone is in line in the correct order, they’ll be brought outside to the stage, where Capitol citizens will be waiting in a large crowd, the most expensive of them will be on private balconies.

All tributes will be on stage for the interviews, just sitting on chairs behind Caesar while he goes through them one by one. Alyssum will have to be careful on how she reacts to tributes and what they’re saying, and be even more careful with her posture.

The last pair of tributes arrive, and one-by-one they all get onto stage, heading toward their seats in the back. Alyssum is only on the bottom step, not even in sight of the Capitol just yet, and she can feel a sickness sprout in her throat, a headache beginning at the sight of all the bright lights.

Tonight is going to be miserable.

She steps on stage, and offers the crowd a shy smile. In a small glimpse she’s able to see that they’re all standing, none of them are sitting. All streets leading up to the City Circle are packed with brightly colored people dressed in various styles. She notes that not all balconies are occupied by the expensive Capitol people, but Gamemakers and cameras instead. It doesn’t ease her nerves at all.

She takes her seat in the white chair, making sure to cross her legs and sitting as straight as possible. Paslee, who’s sitting to her left, readjusts to do the same. The two of them whisper quietly about how everyone back home is watching. District Four is waiting eagerly to see what you and Finnick have cooked up this year. She hopes they’re satisfied.

Caesar bounces on stage as soon as his cue is given, the crowd roars, clapping and cheering for him. This year, his hair is a light blue, and so is the gloss on his lips. He wears a matching midnight blue suit that twinkles like stars with how many light bulbs are attached to it.

He makes sure that the audience is in a light mood by cracking a few jokes, and quickly introduces Glimmer before they have a chance to retreat. Alyssum stares blankly, watching as each career comes and goes, how they’re acting in front of the Capitol, how Alyssum can replicate it when it finally comes to be her turn.

It’s all very light on her end, figuring that she’ll be able to be gentle with the aloof idea. Then Clove finishes her interview, and gives Alyssum a certain look on the way back to her chair, and suddenly the competition has started. She can’t help the smirk that curls onto her face.

As soon as the District Three boy sits, Alyssum prepares to stand.

“May I introduce District Four’s very own Alyssum Gallows?” Caesar asks slyly, motioning back with his hand. The Capitol’s cheers are loud, almost deafening.

Alyssum gets to her feet, forcing the smile to hide. She has to look indifferent, or else the aloof idea won’t work. She stands tall, and walks carefully to the center stage. Reed and Mox are back home, on the edge of their seats, she can just feel it. You have told your story to the boarding school a thousand times, you were sweet during your interviews.

Now it’s Alyssum’s turn to be the opposite.

As soon as she stops in front of Caesar, grabbing his hand for the handshake, the three minutes have begun. It’s her time to be memorable, and she needs to fight to be seen as one of the careers, even if she won’t be joining them. She’s got the personality for it.

“Alyssum!” Caesar gasps, as if she’s an old friend, “You’re all grown up!”

She raises her eyebrows, looking out to the crowd, “Of course I am, it’s been nine years since you saw me last.”

“Nine years?” He asks incredulously, face twisted in mock horror, “The years aren’t showing, are they folks?”

The crowd shouts back at him, some clapping, others cheering. He lets out a laugh after a moment, waving off the idea that he could ever get old. That’s exactly why they have plastic surgery here. Alyssum almost didn’t believe it when you told her that Caesar has been hosting the Hunger Games for more than forty years.

“That dress is very eye-catching.” Caesar says, “I can’t even pinpoint what color it is!” He laughs.

“That’s because it’s not just one color,” she says as if it’s obvious, “Laurel, my stylist, went with a lenticular design.”

To prove what she said, she moves from side to side, allowing the crowd to see what Caesar means. With all the artificial lighting now that the sun’s down, it gives them the perfect opportunity to see. The crowd cheers, there’s a few stray whistles.

“Oh, that’s fantastic!” Caesar awes, “And the bottom half, is it supposed to resemble a flower?”

“Yes, everything on me is flowery.” she hesitates, and then begins slowly, “Actually, it’s supposed to represent the innocence that the Capitol is taking away from me by forcing me to go inside of an arena as a punishment for a problem I didn’t even cause.”

And before the tension can settle, she flashes a smile and forces out a laugh, which Caesar reluctantly joins. Her eyes find you and Finnick in the crowd, you make a pinching motion with your fingers, probably telling her to tone it down. The problem is that she doesn’t want to.

“Well, for such an innocent girl, you scored so high.” He says, trying to move on.

“It runs in the family.”

“I can tell! Does it have anything to do with a special skill?” He asks, a hush seems to fall over the audience, eager to hear this part.

As if she’ll ever give it away, “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Oh! I was afraid you’d say that!” He laughs, and looks at the crowd, “I know for sure that people have been on the edge of their seats wanting to know.”

“My only hint is that it relates to my sister in an aspect,” her eyes cast upwards, towards one of the balconies, “Doesn’t it?”

There’s a couple of quick nods coming from the Gamemakers, they know what she’s talking about, “Yes!” one of them shouts.

“A resemblance! As if we don’t have enough of those already!” and then he slows for a moment, “Speaking of which, I have to ask, at the reaping, was the gold dress intentional?”

Alyssum shakes her head, “No, just an unfortunate coincidence.”

There’s a few shouts of agreement, “Yes, I do think so too. I hope it ends up bringing luck in the end. What do you think your brothers thought of it?”

“They probably hated it, watching the youngest get reaped, especially since they’re absolutely helpless in the process. I’m sure that they won’t be wearing gold for generations to come.”

“I think that would be a wise choice,” Caesar agrees, “When you said goodbye, how was it?”

“Hard. They gave me an old necklace that belonged to mom and then made me promise something.” Alyssum can feel her time coming to an end, thankfully, she doesn’t think she can pretend any longer.

“And what did they make you promise?” Caesar asks, a hush falls in the air again.

It’s a lie, but they’ll never know, none of them will ever know. She looks out to the crowd, finding you and Finnick, “To win at all costs.”

The buzzer sounds, Alyssum can feel the relief hit her instantly. The crowd is cheering loudly, clapping, whistling, stomping. She can hardly hear herself think, eyes darting to the nearest camera. She hopes that this performance was good enough for everyone back home. Even if the promise wasn’t actually made, she’s going to bring it to life as best as possible.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Alyssum Gallows from District Four! It was a pleasure talking to you again, Alyssum. I wish you luck on your promise.” Caesar grins.

There has to be some sort of hatred that he’s hiding, because she nearly single handedly ruined the show. There were a hundred things she could have said after he commented on her dress, she just held it in. Not to mention, it definitely would’ve lost the favor of the Capitol.

Alyssum raises a hand to the crowd as a goodbye, and then makes her way back to her chair, ignoring the glares she’s getting from the rest of the careers. Paslee utters out a congratulations, she wishes him luck. He’s going to need it, at this rate she stole the entire show and she was only up there for three minutes. Even though it felt like an entire lifetime.

Paslee is called up, and Alyssum spends the entire interview trying to figure out what his angle is. If she was aloof--although, she did get hostile at some moments--then what did he have to go with? It comes to her when he keeps making statements that end the same way, he’s being cocky.

She can’t blame you and Finnick for making him act like this, it’s a good word to go off of, especially since he’s been training inside of the boarding school for years now. He’s got all of the experience on lock, and so far she hasn’t seen him doubt himself once.

Caesar’s only a little surprised that he’s getting an attitude like this right after Alyssum, maybe he was hoping only one of them would be bad to deal with. It sucks to be him, she supposes, because the two of them are careers, whether they want to admit it or not. Age doesn’t matter.

She’s expected to be timid, he’s supposed to be loud. It’s nice being able to see their surprise up-close.

His interview ends with a flourish, she’s honestly bored watching every other tribute go after her. It hits a point where they all act the same, since they all scored in the low range and their mentors haven’t seen a victor for years. They’ve lost all originality and rely on old tricks to get them through.

It could be worse, though. They could be from District Twelve, which Alyssum perks back up at, hoping for something good. Katniss gets through her interview, and Aly isn’t surprised when she says she promised her younger sister that she’d win. Her buzzer goes off, it’s Peeta’s turn.

It isn’t until the very end of his interview, does he take the spotlight right from Alyssum, and place it back on them again. She was sure with her attitude that it would be unbeatable, but there’s nothing better than a live love confession in the Capitol. Even she can hear Paslee curse under his breath, rolling his eyes.

Peeta’s in love with Katniss.

She’s glad when the interviews end and she’s able to stand on her feet again. The anthem plays, she raises her head as required, impatient to get off the stage. Once it’s finally over, everyone files into a line, starting with District One, and walks off stage and to the lobby.

Alyssum lets out the biggest sigh as soon as she’s out of sight, curling her hands into fists as she and Paslee go to search for you and Finnick in the sea of bodies. There’s a possibility that it wasn’t intentional, after all, Caesar had led up to that question. Doesn’t mean that he’s to blame for it, though.

“What a waste.” Paslee murmurs, walking beside Alyssum.

“Tell me about it.”

With every passing second, the lobby becomes an even worse nightmare. The two of them end up agreeing on just taking an elevator up to their floor, instead of waiting for their people. Just before Alyssum steps into the elevator with Paslee, she realizes who’s standing inside of it.

It consists of the entire band of careers, she backs off and moves onto the elevator next to it, and finds that it’s not much better. Peeta stands in this one, and it’s packed full with a bunch of other tributes. She sucks it up, presses the Four button, and then picks a wall to stand by until it’s her turn to get off.

Thankfully, it only stops once before hers, letting off the girl from Three. When the doors open again, she slips around people to get out. Paslee is waiting for her in the hallway, together they go inside of the apartment. They’re the first to arrive, which isn’t a big surprise. There’s a lot of people that need to be transferred.

“Quite an interview you had,” Paslee says, probably not wanting to wait in silence.

“I can say the same for you.”

“I’m not sure passive-aggressive was the way to go.”

She looks at him, “Who cares? They’ve probably forgotten about me already.”

The door opens, and one by one, does everyone file in. Instantly, congratulations are falling on the two of them. Briefly, you and Finnick pull her aside to talk about why she went off track, and explain to her that she wasn’t supposed to verbalize the anger, just show it through body language. She’s lucky that she changed her attitude by the end, because that saved her.

Kind of.

With the exception of the prep team, everyone sits at the table for dinner, which is a little more elegant than it was these past couple of nights. The Capitol’s food is always delicious, but tonight is a special occasion. It’s their last night in the Capitol, as tomorrow morning they’ll both be at the arena before ten.

Laurel and Pleurisy keep conversation going by giving out their opinions and who would’ve interested them personally if they weren’t stylists. They end up admitting that Katniss and Peeta have, once again, outshone them all, which is something that Alyssum already figured out.

She should probably invest a couple of days into looking for either Katniss or Peeta inside of the arena. Even if the two of them aren’t allies, having one of them as her backup is going to be better than no one. Besides, she can’t even entertain the idea of joining the careers.

Of course, that means she’s going to have to get over her growing irritation for the both of them.

They bring Alyssum and Paslee into the living room so that they can watch a recap of the interviews. She has to admit that it’s very different seeing them from the front than the back or on the television screens provided. Whenever a tribute looks at a certain camera, it’ll flip to that perspective.

She can hardly stomach watching Peeta confess his love again, but she’s happy to see that she’s not the only tribute that reacted negatively--with the exception of Katniss, who was bright red. It makes her realize that there’s a problem with wanting to team up with either of them, Katniss especially.

With all of the attention they’ve been getting lately, the careers are probably seeing them as a threat. If she goes out of her way to find them and it turns out that the careers are hunting them, she’ll be screwed. And the careers will have a field day because they’ll have two tributes they want to kill, right next to each other.

Maybe she needs to do some rethinking.

Elysia is the first to say her goodbyes, hugging Paslee first, but holds onto Alyssum the longest. When she pulls away, there’s tears in her eyes. She wishes the two of them luck, since they won’t be seeing her again after tonight, and then leaves immediately to have a breather.

You and Finnick give them a smile. She can’t imagine what you’re thinking right now, how you might want to react. Alyssum begins to wish that she had spent more time with you in between events, even if that meant she’d be exhausted everyday. It would’ve been better than the guilt that’s settling in her chest.

“Aly, stay out of the cornucopia.” You start, “I don’t care what the reason behind going might be, run in the other direction.”

Alyssum nods.

Finnick looks over at Paslee, “Watch your back, there’s going to be a dozen people in the bloodbath at that moment. You don’t know who’s watching you or what their plans are. Also, don’t go too deep inside, you’ll trap yourself. Wait until you’re absolutely sure that it’s over.”

“Finding water should be both of your guys’ priority. And use common sense inside of the arena, please.” you give them a gentle smile, “No matter what happens, we have your back, remember that.”

“Thank you,” Paslee says.

“Go rest, you’ll be getting up early tomorrow morning.” Finnick says.

Paslee nods, heading up the steps. Alyssum doesn’t move from where she stands, staring up at you and Finnick. The longer the silence settles, the more tears fill her own eyes. She’ll be on her own starting tomorrow morning, and she doesn’t even know what to do. Did she even make progress?

“Come here,” you open your arms for her.

She doesn’t hesitate, crying into your dress.

Alyssum doesn’t want to go.

BERCEUSE IS A SPIN-OFF //MASTERLIST//

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thgfanficinspo · 4 years ago

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Fear of the Water - 20

Annie meets the other victors from District 4

From the Start - Jonsa - Coryo

(ANNIE)

There are nice clothes in my closet but I don’t want to wear them because I know they’re from the Capitol. And I’m not in the Capitol anymore and I don’t want it on me I don’t want it hanging off my skin.

I find one of my everyday dresses that Bosun brought along to the new house and slip it on. I always wear big shapeless dresses that go to my knees. I like them because they don’t get in my way – I can run around or work or sleep or do anything without them causing me any trouble. They’re long enough that I don’t have to worry about people seeing too much if I crouch or bend or climb, and the materials are simple and comfortable, and the fact that they’re so loose means I don’t have to keep adjusting them like I would with regular dresses. And I like that they’re dresses, too. Pants always trip me up, and I don’t like worrying about two different pieces of clothing when I can just wear one.

I don’t like being in this new bedroom, at least not yet. I don’t like being in this house. It’s too big. Too many rooms. Creaky floorboards and rusty door hinges. Too many places for something to hide.

I change as fast as I can and then run back downstairs. Bosun is pacing in a circle around the main room. He glances up at me. “Get changed; we’re gonna be late.”

I shake my head.

He opens his mouth and curls his lip like always does when he’s about to yell at me but he makes himself stop and take a deep breath to calm down because I think he knows he shouldn’t yell at me, at least not yet. He’s trying to wait a couple days to let me settle in before he starts up again. I hope he doesn’t start up again at all.

When things are good with Bosun, they’re great. It’s like we’re the only people in the world and we’re everything to each other. But then when I start counting things or get “stuck in a loop,” as he says, he gets annoyed and tells me to stop even though he knows I can’t. if I stop it feels like a million tiny ants covering every bit of my skin and I can’t move or do anything until I’ve finished counting.

He raises his eyebrows at me in some sort of prompt. “Ready?”

There are three big dogs in front of Mags’s porch that stare at us as we approach. I think of the dogs in the arena and start to pull away from Bosun, but he holds onto me. “They’re just dogs,” he says. “You can’t be afraid of dogs forever.”

Mags appears in the doorway. “Annie! Bosun!” She waves her hand at the dogs and they disperse. “Ignore them. They hang around wherever they think they can get food. They’re harmless.”

All the homes on Victor’s Isle follow a formula, but there are subtle differences in each. My new house seems to have less walls than Mags’s. Hers is artfully decorated and looks comforting and warm. She’s had almost sixty years to work on it.

“The others are already inside. I don’t think Eefa will make it, though. She’s not one for socializing.”

The others, including Broadsea.

Broadsea. He was a member of the Career pack during his Games. He betrayed them relatively early on – probably because he didn’t like working with other people and he didn’t want them out there working against him. Broadsea was on watch one night while his allies slept. He killed them each, one by one, by slitting their throats or stabbing them through the heart.

One of them managed to get a knife and hack his face apart before dying.

I’m still lost in my thoughts when we find him in the kitchen.

“Annie, Bosun, this is Broadsea.”

And there he is – arms crossed over his enormous chest. He’s well over six feet and at least two inches taller than Finnick, who’s already taller than six feet, too. The best word I can think to describe him is sturdy. He looks like he could stand in one spot during a tidal wave and not even notice it crashing over him. He has hazel eyes and his jaw is strong and square and half his face is hardly a face at all.

That scar – it’s one thing to see on television, but completely different in person. He had some medicine to treat the wound, but not enough. The wound was infected. He did a piecemeal job of stitching it back together with threads pulled from his fallen allies’ clothing.

They cleaned it up as best they could in the Capitol, even removed some tissue and tried to build him a new cheek artificially, but it didn’t work. I still can’t believe he survived such a thing. Now it’s as wide as a finger from his right cheekbone to his jaw, where it dips under his chin and stretches down almost onto his neck. Ghostly pale against his coffee-colored skin. He grew a beard to partially cover it, but no hair grows over the corrupted flesh, so it just makes it stand out even more.

Not to mention the fingertips and toes he lost to frostbite. And the tip of his nose. But those have all been patched up.

He gives of us each a good up and down look before turning away without a word.

Proteus turns away from the stove to greet us and I feel a little bit better because Proteus is not scary or mean and I sort of know him. “Ah, I’m glad you’re here. I wanted your opinion on the sauce I made for the duck before I serve it.” He gives me and Bosun each a little spoonful of orangey-brown stuff. Bosun takes a lick and offers his compliments.

Finnick strolls in as we taste, completely ignoring Broadsea even though they’re about to walk right into each other. He stops for a moment and shoots him a mocking smile before he steps aside to let him through. Broadsea keeps on walking, knocking back another glass of liquor as he makes his way to the sitting room. Finnick is bright again as soon as Broadsea gone. “Do I get a sample?” he asks, flashing that winning smile.

He was fourteen when he was in my place. A child. But he doesn’t look like a child anymore. He was never exactly childlike, though; in the arena he was handsome and young with a chiseled face and sparkling eyes, his cheeks always flushed from being outside. He was gorgeous, and everyone was impatient to watch him grow up and therefor more handsome. And so they could touch him. So he could touch them.

I still don’t understand that – why he wants to jump from bed to bed. Surely the gifts they give him can’t be worth all the trouble. Is he just bored? Or is sex really that good? Having someone flop around and sweat all over you doesn’t sound terribly appealing to me, even with someone like Finnick.

Finnick pulls me out of my mind when he sidles up next to me. “I see you met Broadsea,” he murmurs. He produces a handful of sugar cubes seemingly out of nowhere, pops some in his mouth, and stars crunching away. He speaks through the mouthful: “Don’t feel bad – he hardly ever talks. And he’s an asshole anyway.” He realizes something. “Oh, do you want some candy or sugar or something? I keep a stash in the pantry. Mags thinks it’s bad for me, but I’m nineteen, so what I eat doesn’t really matter.”

If only he knew what it was like to be a woman.

“You might as well sit down,” Proteus says to us over his shoulder. “I’m almost ready to serve.”

Proteus’s wife, Brona, is already seated at the oval dining table, which is made of reclaimed wood.

Her clear, smooth skin is the color of honey and almonds, and she keeps her dark hair tied behind her head in a tight bun that pulls the skin on her forehead taut. Her mouth and teeth are big, but they fit better with her face than my big mouth and teeth fit with mine. She introduces herself and shakes Bosun’s hand. She doesn’t try to shake mine; somebody probably warned her about it.

I wonder how hard it must be for her and Proteus, to be separated from your love for the whole summer. Assuming they love each other.

It surprises me that so many victors have families – about a third of them, I think – but the fact that any of them has one is surprising. Any one of us, now.

Eefa got married at nineteen – a normal age in the districts but unbelievably young for the Capitol – and had two children, but she only speaks to one of them now. Proteus is married, of course, which honestly seems odd to me. He and Brona appear more like friends than lovers, but even friends might be too intimate a term. They don’t have children. On television, they always show Proteus next to a victor from District 5 who won a few years after him – the 55th Games, I think. He actually shows genuine fondness for the man; that’s obvious even through a televisions screen.

I wonder if Brona knows about this man. She seems very cold so I don’t know if she’d care.

We sit down and tuck in to eat. Finnick pulls out Mags’s chair and then mine and pushes them both in for us. He takes the chair between us and smiles at me as he settles in and my ears get red. Bosun is on my other side. Broadsea is directly across from me. I try not to look at him.

Proteus brings out a thick orange soup as our first course. He tells us what it’s made from but I don’t pay attention since the smell is so distracting. I start eating before everyone’s been served, which I think is rude but I don’t care. I slurp down two bowls and a fist-sized loaf of bread before anyone else finishes their first serving. I don’t care enough to look up at them or excuse myself.

I didn’t really eat today. Our kitchen isn’t stocked yet but I found some nuts and hid them in my pocket because I forget that there will be more food and that I don’t have to be hungry anymore ever. I haven’t counted them yet.

Bosun keeps looking back and forth from me to the other victors – trying to gauge my reactions to them and their reactions to me. He looks like he’s ready to leap across the table if he has to, though I don’t know why he would. He’s too smart to tangle with a victor. And he doesn’t even get into arguments with people he’s not related to. But he’s plenty argumentative with me and our cousins and Chelsea and me and me and me.

Broadsea observes me throughout the first course, which takes about half an hour for everyone to finish. He looks at me like some new trinket – strange and intriguing and more than anything else, a source of amusement. He’s continually eating hunks of bread which he tears from the rolls with his stumpy fingers (they had to amputate four fingertips above the knuckle after he won due to frostbite) and dips them in the soup. For every mouthful of bread he tears some off and puts it in his pocket. Maybe he forgets, too. About not being hungry anymore.

Finnick watches me too, but in a much softer way. His pretty green eyes are warm where his gaze touches my skin. He smiles whenever I do, and he’s quick with a story whenever there’s a lull in conversation.

Proteus brings out the main course, which is made with duck rather than fish. People in District 4 get sick all the time from eating too much fish, so duck is a usual substitute, since that’s really the only other animal around except for seagulls. Duck is fancier than seagull. More expensive. But I guess that’s not a big deal since victors have so much money and we don’t ever have to be hungry anymore.

It’s served with turnips and Katniss root.

When I see it on the platter my stomach starts to roll over itself. My hands are shaking.

“Annie?”

I don’t know who says it. I don’t know who they’re saying it to.

I stand up fast, knocking my chair over and then tripping on it as I try to get away. I can’t be here. They’ll kill me to get my food. They’ll kill me for still being alive. I have to get away or they’ll kill me like they killed Piers and I don’t want to die but my legs aren’t working so I have to drag myself across the floor I can’t breathe.

“Annie! Annie!” It’s many voices now. They’re behind me, above me, closing in on me and I can’t breathe. I scoot back until my back slams against the wall. Put my hands over my ears so I can’t hear the mutts eating the boy from 6 or Piers screaming while they saw through him.

Bosun’s face is right in front of mine, saying “Annie? Annie?”

He’s not supposed to be here. His name wasn’t drawn. Why is he here? Why isn’t he home? They’ll cut his head off and they’ll poke out his eyes I’ll poke out his eyes and get goop on my hands and I can’t wipe it off.

“Run!” I scream at him. “Bosun, run! Run!”

And all the voices start screaming “Annie!” too loud and I don’t like it.

I try to shuffle further back but my head hits the wall and it goes dark.

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kdlovehg · 5 years ago

Text

Chapter 2 - Twelve times the season - a festive everlark fic.

Oh look, I’ve finished another chapter. Enjoy. XO

Click for links to chapter 1 and summary - tumblr

Fanfiction

AO3

*****************************************

Chapter 2

First thing the next morning, Peeta received his first envelope from the letter carrier. After finishing his draft the night before, Peeta had made sure to write the post in his best handwriting and had then faxed it over to the head office, eager for them to have it published in time for the next morning. Now Peeta wasn't a fool, he'd made sure to add a footnote so that the publishers were aware of the situation and thus wouldn't put a copy of his column in any of the papers in his apartment building, except for his. Unfair? Perhaps. But it was better than risking Katniss nicking someone's paper and seeing it. This simply avoided the problem altogether.

He tore open the envelope and pulled out a single scoresheet. Now as this was a sponsorship, the company had made sure that there would be a way to track the number of papers being read from page one until the final word in the column. One common way was to check for any fingerprints on discarded papers, that way they'd know if the reader had flicked through the pages or not. They would also send out workers to see if people had chosen not to grab their paper at all as this was all important information in finding out how many people were reading it.

Two, was written in bold in the centre of the paper. Fifty views. No recommendations as of yet.

It wasn't the best start, because no recommendations meant that nobody in the town or wider part of Panem was talking about it but it was fine. He'd only just started. He turned over the page to see a few comments printed on the back, all of which must have been submitted back to the head office.

Mockygirl: Good luck! Can't wait to see where this goes.

Atrinketonthetree: Fabulous idea! Spread that cheer all through the year.

Unfortunately the last comment wasn't as promising as the first ones.

SwiftG: Just leave it. A Grinch ain't gonna change for you so don't bother.

Despite what the third reader had suggested, Peeta had already planned his first move to woo the little Grinch into the festive spirit. He washed, dressed and left just early enough to grab both Katniss' and his newspapers.

Once he'd collected them, he rode the elevator back up to their floor, checking the time as he went. She hadn't left yet so his plan should be perfect. He knocked on her door and listened for her voice, yet he was only greeted by a loud bark.

After waiting for a few moments he knocked again only to receive a muffled "What?".

"Its your neighbour" Peeta said, doing his best to sound perky. "Mellark. Peeta Mellark".

Silence.

Realising that he wasn't going away Katniss replied "Am I supposed to care?".

Peeta ignored her comment. "I brought gifts". That would work. It always did with the children, besides who didn't love free stuff.

"Don't need em".

"Should I leave it against your door?".

A pause.

"Leave what?".

Gotcha.

"Its a surprise. Don't you like surprises? I sure do. Puts you in a great mood for the day".

The door flew open and she stood in front of him, her skirt failing to conceal a layer of shaving cream that was painted across her leg. Katniss held the razor in her hand tightly as if it were a weapon she might strike him with. Her other arm was holding onto doorframe, creating a blockage for Mutty so that he couldn't escape. Regardless the dog peered over as if he too were curious about the surprise.

The familiar scowl settled back on her face. "I hate surprises".

"Here's your paper", he said, thrusting it towards her.

She grabbed it and tossed it over her shoulder, someone managing to make it land on her table. The accuracy was honestly quite impressive.

"You're welcome", he added, both of them knowing that she didn't appreciate the help. Before she could start mumbling under her breath he turned around and left with a "Have a good morning!".

"Whatever".

"You say that a lot don't you Everdeen?", he commented with a grin. For someone who he assumed was smart, she wasn't very creative with her responses.

"Do you mind? I'd like to finish what I started". Peeta tries not to think about her getting out of the shower when he knocked. Imagine if he made her open the door in a towel. Just for a paper she could've gotten herself. Goodness. It'd be hard to talk his way out of that.

"Go for it", he added, refusing to turn around. Granted it was a little rude but if she could do it then so could he. His nice deed had been done so he didn't owe her anything.

At least she hadn't slammed the door on him.

There was progress at least.

He returned to his room and waited for the familiar sound of her opening and closing her door as she left for work. Then seconds later he left to accompany her at the elevator.

Couldn't break tradition.

"What a coincidence", he lied as they entered and she pressed the button for the bottom floor. Katniss glared at him, clearly not believing a word he said.

He glanced over, seeing the familiar paper tucked under her arm. Perfect. Unintentionally, his gaze dropped back to her legs to see a small piece of paper peeking out from beneath her skirt.

She must have cut herself. Odd. Katniss didn't seem like the type to be distracted easily, but mistakes happen, he supposed.

"I hope that wasn't my fault" Peeta said, gesturing towards the injury.

Katniss huffed and tugged her skirt lower slightly so that he could no longer see it. "Course not".

It totally was.

She'd never admit it though.

"The little cuts are the worst kind".

She shrugged, avoiding conversation, but he heard the quiet "So are happy neighbours".

Well she thought he was the worst kind of neighbour? Perfect. The feeling was mutual.

"Forgive me, I was just trying to be helpful. Next time I'll knock and leave it at your door for when you leave".

"Don't".

"Don't what? Its too big to slide under your door".

"Don't be helpful" she insisted. Katniss didn't need anybody's help. The only thing she needed was for this elevator to hurry up. His voice was getting on her nerves.

"Its really not any trouble".

"I said don't".

"Alright", Peeta said, backing off. "If that's what you want".

"That's what I want" she said, finishing the conversation. Gosh he was annoying.

As soon as the elevator stopped and the doors slid open, Katniss flew out of there, eager to get away from her neighbour. Peeta found it amusing to say the least. He'd never made someone run from him before.

"Enjoy your day", he called out after her, if only to wind her up more.

Finnick was right. Being nice wasn't half bad. It was the most entertainment he'd got in weeks.

As a treat, Peeta decided he'd go to a local store, 'The Hob', as it was the closest place to get produce. Inside it they also had a small counter of freshly baked goods, mainly breakfast items, and hot drinks which likely earned them all of their customers. As luck would have it, he noticed that Everdeen was four people ahead of him. Odd since he'd never seen her in the store before.

Despite knowing that he shouldn't, Peeta shouted out to her, his voice quickly getting the attention of the other patrons. "Katniss I didn't know you came here! You should of told me, I could've came earlier to grab you something".

Katniss tensed up, swallowing back a curse at the familiar voice. Of course she couldn't escape him. She knew she should've went straight to work. She just can't catch a break.

Sae, Peeta's favourite barista and the owner of the store, gave him a toothless grin. "Morning Peeta".

"And a good morning to you, lovely", he said with his typical charm. He gestured towards Katniss. "She's my neighbour. I'd like to buy her a hot chocolate".

Everdeen spins around, hand on hip and leans to the side so that she can see around the other people in line. "No. I can buy my own hot chocolate - and cheese buns", she added. "I'm very capable". She didn't want his money. She didn't want his help. Gosh she hoped he'd miss his train so that his day could be as annoying as hers .

"Consider it an apology", Peeta explained as Sae bagged the fresh, gooey buns. She handed it to Katniss along with her drink and waited for the outcome. Peeta knew the older woman must be confused, why would anyone refuse an act of kindness?

"No", Katniss stated and slapped the money down on the counter, capturing Sae's attention.

"Well if you insist", Peeta said as the queue moved towards the counter, every other barista completing their order quickly and with a smile. "I really am sorry. I'll be quieter next time. You won't hear a single Christmas noise from me" he lied. Rather than acknowledge his insincere apology, Katniss grabbed her goods and left the store, not even saying a goodbye to the woman who'd served her.

Peeta considered if Sae knew anything about the woman. Surely she's visited before, just at a different time perhaps? When it was his turn to order he asked, "That girl" and leaned slightly across the counter. He rubbed his face, playing up the curiosity as if the thought just happened to cross his mind. "She come here often?".

"Aw yeah all the time. She orders the same thing, never talks really but what can you do".

"I figured", he said politely. What did he expect? She was an older woman, hardly one to gossip. He asked for the usual hot chocolate and paid, and then gave Sae extra money with the memo that it was to pay for his neighbours order the following morning. "Tell her its from me". Katniss would have to accept his generosity one way or another.

"Well if you're sure boy. She seemed a bit mad about you trynna do it today though".

"She's like that. Talking ain't really her thing", he said as if he was actually friends with Everdeen. Sae handed him his coco.

"I noticed. I'll make sure to serve her tomorrow, just for you Peeta", she added with another grin. There's the community spirit he missed.

"Perfect. Thankyou Sae".

He turned to leave with his drink and added, "Just a shame I won't see her reaction".

Peeta hurried out the store and rushed to the platform, just in time as the train had already arrived. He slid through the doors as they closed and sipped his hot chocolate. What would Katniss do?

///////////////////////////////////

The man was driving Katniss crazy. Why couldn't he just leave her alone? He was obviously just doing it for the attention. No-one was that happy in general let alone in the morning, yet every day its the same smile that he greets everybody with. Katniss knew he was playing a game with her and she didn't like it one bit. So she decided she'd do what she did best - ignore him. Unfortunately he'd already managed to get her to talk on two separate occasions so far but that was a mistake. She knew better now. Walking quickly, Katniss headed towards the Justice building. Being late was never an option. She had bills to pay and a cut in her salary wouldn't help. Besides she had a schedule: work in the morning and then for lunch she would go home, grab a snack, get changed and take Mutty out. Then once the dog was all tired out - which seemed to be never the older that he got - she would quickly wash and change back into her work uniform. Then she'd leave just as he'd settle down for his nap. It wasn't always that way, but Haymitch's building didn't allow dogs so she had to take him in. The more she thought about it, the worse she felt. Katniss loved her Uncle - even though he was a pain - and she was grateful for all that he did in raising her. Luckily he seemed to adjust well to the new place, and by that she meant, she had yet to receive a complaint from the complex.

Even when she was young, Katniss knew she wasn't a people person. Her father had tried many times to help her make friends but she hated everything about it. She'd much rather sit alone in the woods and study the animals. That's why her job in agriculture suited her. She could spend time away from people as often as she wanted to. People were dangerous. Animals were smart. They knew to be careful with their trust and she'd been fooled before. She didn't even want to think of Gale's betrayal. No - it was over. Her mind had moved on.

"Morning Miss Everdeen!", the receptionist said in greeting. She was unusual as the place was known to be quite cold and workers were stoic, but Katniss didn't mind as the girl was never mad at a lack of a reply. On her counter sat a small Christmas tree with ribbons wrapped around it and trinkets hung from the branches. It did nothing for Katniss' mood but she supposed some of her colleagues might like seeing the sight.

With a nod in her direction, Katniss moved on. She didn't remember the young girl's name, or perhaps she hadn't bothered to ask. It didn't matter she supposed. The less familiar she was with people the better. She closed the door behind her, glad to be back in her office. Silent. Alone. Perfect. It gave her time to ponder her odd neighbour. He was a nice guy. That wasn't unusual, but why now was he trying so hard to get her attention? And why did she care?

////////////////////

After work, Peeta headed down to 'Monsieur Cornucopia', a building full of different clubs for young children, so that he could help them with their holiday program and then he travelled to the orphanage. He'd had a good day - better than yesterday at least. The shoppers seemed more patient and they sold out of a lot of fish. He liked to think that it was some type of good karma, for trying to be nice to Everdeen. Sure she rebuffed it, but these things take time.

The kids in the orphanage enjoyed the singing and loved the chance to sing to those in their community that were often forgotten; the elderly, the homeless, even some of the new mothers. The previous week they'd sung at the local hospital, for the new parents, most of whom were underage and thus looked down on. The children didn't judge them though. Maybe that's why he liked them so much. They were just jolly, none of them needed a reason for it, unlike some people.

This week the children were heading down to The Seam. The small living-complex located on the outskirts of twelve, didn't always sound like the ideal place to take children but they wouldn't mind it. He knew how excited they were. Some even hoped to see their old relatives, after being separated from them for good reason. They wouldn't understand that though. They didn't care.

By nine-thirty, Peeta made it back to the lobby, he was exhausted, but still in a good mood. He headed towards the lockers to check for any mail - if it was a special delivery letter then the carrier would take it straight to the room but anything else was just stored in the designated box. As he unlocked, the locker, he grabbed his mail and began flicking through the envelopes. Bills. Gas. Water. No Christmas cards yet but there was still a chance for those that could afford to send them, to do so this year. In his peripheral vision he caught sight of a familiar brunette. Everdeen. He wondered were she'd been as she was dressed in the same clothes that she would wear when taking her dog out but he was sure she must have done so already, and the little fella wasn't with her so she must have been somewhere else. The faint smell of sweat tickles his nose but he doesn't comment on it. She'd probably take it as an insult anyway. Although, he glanced her way, she did seem to be pretty athletic. That was a nice surprise. Not that he should be looking. It was her body, who cared what he thought of it. He looked away before she could catch him. Maybe she'd cuss him out, out loud this time. He didn't want that, it could ruin her mood for tomorrow and then she'd never appreciate his gift.

Katniss kept quiet. Of course she'd seen him, subtlety wasn't his forte, but she chose not to comment. She'd had enough interaction with him for one day. A week even. She just wanted to relax so she watched as he shut his locker closed. She checked her locker quickly, and seeing that it was empty, she closed it again and as had become the custom, the two of them rode the elevator together in blissful silence. Katniss made a point to stand in the corner so that she could have as much space away from him as possible. She needed time to breathe. There were too many people around at this time of year. Peeta chose not to acknowledge the distance between them and when they finally reached their floor, they separated and headed for their own apartment. For some odd reason, Peeta felt as if she was watching him - just staring at his back because he wouldn't see her. Rather than turn around he glanced over his shoulder at her to see the usual scowl on her face. Lovely.

Katniss couldn't figure out why he still hadn't spoken to her. She liked it obviously but it didn't seem right. Just hours ago he was bugging her and now he was content with silence?

Peeta forced a smile in her direction, "Have a good evening, Katniss".

"You don't look good".

His eyebrows jumped up. No way.

She spoke. Goodness had he broken her already?

"Its been a long day" he said, testing the waters. He wouldn't draw this conversation out, that was up to her.

Unfortunately for him, that answer seemed to satisfy her enough and she spun on her heel and disappeared into her apartment.

Accepting defeat, Peeta entered his own apartment and collapsed onto the chair. He wasn't making a lot of progress. But it was only day one. At least he knew there was promise there. Yet before he drifted off to sleep, he remembered that the day was over and thus it was time to start his second column entry. With a huff he hauled himself off of the chair and grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen. He wondered what the commenters would think of it this time.

Twelve times the season - Entry 2

December 15th

A letter and a lady

Operation Grinch to little elf is officially underway, ladies and gentlemen. Have I granted her a cheerful smile today? Oh yes. Did I give her the gift of a surprise? Why certainly! She just hasn't warmed up to the idea yet. Since seeing me this morning, I'm fairly certain she now wishes she'd succumbed to the festivity weeks ago but alas it is too late and thus my presence is here to help.

What wonderful thing did I do you ask? I woke up early - gave up a full ten minutes of sleep for this woman - and trekked downstairs to retrieve her newspaper so that the Lady wouldn't have to even spare a second to locate it. Not only that, but I offered to buy her breakfast. She refused of course, but at least I've set the tone for the next few days. And not only that twelve but I've bought her breakfast for tomorrow. How convenient is that? A lovely way to start her morning I'd say. I can't wait to here about how she reacts to that.

However something occurred once nightfall hit. A strange encounter one might say. I was merely collecting my mail in the lobby when she appeared. Odd but not unusual. Coincidences happen. From previous experience I knew how these encounters would go. If I were to strike up conversation, especially when she is at the end of her day, then I was sure to be ignored, and I didn't feel like finishing my night on a sour note. Now granted I know I'm not her favourite person, but I don't believe I'm the only one. It seems the one with the problem is her.

Now I like to believe that my newfound fascination with her is unsettling. How do I know? Well I changed tactics for a moment. I was tired and thus gave her the cold shoulder. And did she like that twelve? Oh no.

She cracked.

It was small. An ever so small dent in her façade as she asked me how I was. Were I not so exhausted I would have revelled in her words. Am I getting to her? Who knows. Its still early but I'm optimistic people.

I'll end it here for now until I can figure out a new way to... sweeten her up. In fact, I think I might have just found one.

#everlark #chapter 2 #twelve times the season #festivefic #myfics #kdlovehg #fanfiction #ao3 #christmasfic #links #thg

4 notes · View notes

ninawritesastory · 6 years ago

Note

U, V, W, X, Z

U - 5 favorite characters from 5 different fandoms

1. Keith from Voltron: Legendary Defender. (The fandom’s largely agreed on the last name Kogane for him, but I’m pretty committed to the theory that his dad is James Hawkins. Canon hasn’t given him a surname and they’ve been very cagey about his ethnicity/race, even though they’ve given pretty much everyone else one.)

2. Johan Andersen from Yu-Gi-Oh! GX (He’s gayer than the rainbow deck he plays, he’s from Norway or Sweden, and I’m very dedicated to the ironic headcanon of him being completely colorblind.)

3. Irene Adler from Sherlock. (Well, technically from the source material, but I’ve enjoyed most other portrayals of her. The first time I’ve ever felt “Yas Queen” in my very bones.)

4. Asami Sato from The Legend of Korra. (The girl went through so much shit but never let it drag her down which is honestly goals. Plus she got herself one heck of a happy ending.)

5. Bill Cipher from Gravity Falls. (I greatly enjoy characters who give no fucks whatsoever and have the good grace to be the smartest, most ethically amoral asshole in the room with a twisted sense of humor. Bill was hilarious and I kind of wished we’d seen more of him throughout the show.)

V - 3 OTPs from 3 different fandoms

1. Klance/Laith. They’ve got so much chemistry watching their interactions in the show has my gaydar going nuts. (Plus the showrunners have been pretty heavy handed in hinting that this one could end up canon, and while I’m wary of being queerbaited again, you’re not gonna catch that stopping my gay ass.)

2. Ruby/Sapphire (Garnet). They’re canon, they’re lesbians, and they’re adorable. What more can a girl ask for? I haven’t seen their most recent episode and I want to so badly because I know there are good things going on there.

3. Korrasami. Personally I preferred this ship way back when the show was trying to keep Mako as the main romantic interest. The interactions felt way more natural and once these two became friends they became a really great team. Plus they ended up as canon, even if it was only in like, the last thirty seconds of the series finale, but I’ll take what I can get.

W - 5 favorite ships and 5 kinks you like best for said ships

1. Klance/Laith. Top five kinks…uh…I really like these two in an A/B/O setting, almost exclusively with Omega!Keith and Alpha!Lance. Praise kink is a big one, too. Size kink, also, for both of them (although maybe for Lance more than for Keith), and also xenophilia. Keith’s part alien and that’s something the fandom has loved to work with. And I’m not really sure if it counts as an actual kink, but, like, very sweet, very vanilla, missionary position sex where it’s more about making each other feel good than it is about getting off.

2. Creek. Size kink on Craig’s part, definitely. Tweek’s got a thing for dirty talk, and he’s good at it. Soft BDSM would be a good one for these two; nothing much more extreme than tying each other up, but that’s definitely something they like. Tweek’s also got a scent kink, and nothing turns him on more than how Craig smells after a good work out. And Craig’s got a thing for being ordered around in the bedroom.

3. Korrasami. Body worship. So much of it. Also cunnilingus; Asami strikes me as the type to thoroughly enjoy turning her partner into a quivering, desperate mess. Toys is also one, though I’m not sure if that counts as an actual kink? Maybe some forays into mild BDSM, since Korra seems to be the blitz sort. Edging would probably be a thing for them, too.

4. Style. Kyle gets off on giving orders, Stan gets off on taking orders. Kyle being a size queen is A+ stuff. I think Kyle and Stan would really enjoy edging; Kyle has fun pushing Stan to the brink and dragging him back until he’s sobbing for relief and once Kyle finally lets him cum Stan usually has the best orgasms of his life, so it all works out. Also, funny enough, I can see Kyle having a bit of a creampie fetish. Like, he likes having Stan cum in him, especially after edging him for awhile. Stan’s probably got a humiliation kink, too.

5. Bunny. Power plays all the way. Fighting for dominance, the whole idea of “You want my ass? You gotta earn it first.” Kenny’s got a bit of a choking kink. BDSM would definitely be a thing for them. Probably not anything too detailed or involved, since it’s kind of hassle, dealing with all that equipment. Role playing would also be a big thing for them. If they’ve got time and aren’t afraid of getting caught, then sweet and gentle will do it for them better than rough and fast.

X - top 5-10 characters who are yoUR PRECIOUS BABIES AND YOU WILL DIE DEFENDING THEM

1. Tweek Tweak (South Park)

2. Kenny McCormick(South Park)

3. Keith (Voltron)

4. Shiro (Voltron)

5. Luna Lovegood (Harry Potter)

6. Mabel Pines (Gravity Falls)

7. Marco Diaz (Star vs. The Forces of Evil)

8. Prim Everdeen (The Hunger Games)

9. Finnick Odair (The Hunger Games)

10. Bolin (The Legend of Korra)

Z - Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go (prompts optional but encouraged)

I really love the concept of A/B/O fics, mainly because I love toying with world building and trying to create a world in which this system works and makes sense from an evolutionary standpoint is fun as hell for me. Plus it’s a really good way to highlight how shitty sexism is since it involves turning patriarchy around a bit and typically you’ve got these male characters (some of whom are pretty badass in the source material) dealing with the levels of bullshit women have been dealing with for millennia. But it’s also kind of tricky, since the whole point of A/B/O (in my opinion, at least) is to subvert heteronormative and sexist readings by presenting a feminist perspective through a vehicle Straight White Men might be able to understand. (“When men are oppressed, it’s a tragedy. When women are oppressed, it’s tradition.”) And some writers…just don’t do that. They only focus on the possibility of babies and end up stuffing the Omega into that heteronormative, sexist perception of what it means to be a childbearing member of society.

I love it when the writer builds up a world that has a lot of the problems and issues we see in ours: a long history of bullshit ‘science’ that claims women/Omegas are weak or stupid or incapable of anything but being a wife and mother; microaggressions ranging from period/heat jokes to casual threats of rape and sexual violence written off as “just a joke”; women/Omegas living by ‘rape schedules’ whether they know it or not; political issues like equal pay for equal work, abortion, and women’s rights in general. Like, it’s not supposed to just be “Oh, my favorite gay couple can have babies!” Granted, that’s definitely a fun part of it, but I’d like to see more of the world building aspects.

#nina answers asks #anon #fandom ask meme

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homeofthelonelywriter · 7 years ago

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Drabbles!!

(A/N) So, I finally collected my favourite drabbles. Most of those below are from another blog, but I just can’t find him/her. So if those are your drabbles or you know the user those drabbles are from, please let me know, so I can give them the credit they deserve! How this works: Choose one or more prompts and a character and send me your request. You can do it as an anon, but if you do it non-anon like, I can tag you. And if you’d like any more details to be added (who says the line, for example) just add it to the request. You can find a list of characters I write for down below. The things you send me, will be turned into a oneshot.

1. “Close your eyes.“ – „I swear, if you’re doing something strange, I’ll kill you!”

2. “Are you…flirting with me?” – “About damned time you notice!”

3. “Please stop smiling at me. I keep messing everything up when you look at me like that!”

4. “You look so comfy and cuddle-able!”

5. “I can’t believe, how a few months ago I wanted to learn your name and now you’re eating breakfast in my shirt.”

6. “No…it’s just like…I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.”

7. “You can hurt yourself with that.” – uses weapon skilfully – “You were saying?”

8. “You know, to be a smartass, you have to be smart. Otherwise you’re just an ass.”

9. “IS THAT PAINT?” – “Nope, just my blood.”

10. “That looks infected.” – “It’s fine.” – “You’re dying!” – “Well…that’s fine too.”

11. “I can save you.” – “No, you can’t.”

12. “Do you think at all before you speak?”

13. “You know, unlike some other people, I don’t sleep with everyone I make eye contact with.”

14. “Promise me you’ll take better care of yourself.”

15. “I’ve made so many mistakes, but you’re not one of them.”

16. “You, didn’t do the dishes, I’m not doing you!”

17. “Hot, gorgeous, beautiful…whatever you want to call me.”

18. “Who are we ignoring?”

19. “I love sarcasm! It’s like punching people in the face with words.”

20. “You’re one insult away from starting a war.”

21. “I love you from the bottom from my heart, but I don’t trust you cooking. So stay out of my kitchen.”

22. “I have nothing to apologise for.”

23. “Don’t judge because I’m quiet. No one plans a murder out loud.”

24. “Why aren’t you worshipping me, mortal?” – “Not interested, thanks though.”

25. “I’m going to kill you!” – “Daring/Dude, I’m already dead.”

26. “It’s hard to have a heart, when you stopped so many others.”

27. “I’d like to apologies to everyone, for what’s about to happen.”

28. “Death is the only god, who will come if you call.”

29. “God damnit!” – “You can’t say that!” – “Okay. Satan bless it!”

30. “I hate you.” – “Why? I’m lovely!”

31. “Why were you trying to kill me?” – “I was hired to.”

32. “You’re…” – “Beautiful, gorgeous, immensely talented-“ – “…dangerous.”

33. “I know the voices aren’t real, but man, they come up with some great ideas!”

34. “All that blood looks good on you. It really brings out your eyes.”

35. “You see, my idea of ‘help from above’, is a sniper.”

36. “You’re a psychopath.” – “I prefer creative.”

37. “Excuse me? Which level of hell is this?”

38. “Fuck an apology! I’m not sorry for anything!”

39. “Who are you? Death?” – “Sometimes. Not today though.”

40. “I’d rather be spilling blood.”

41. “Spoiler alert: everybody dies.”

42. “No! I’m not feeling violent. I’m feeling creative with weapons.”

43. “Don’t you feel lonely living in your own little world?” – “Don’t you feel powerless living in other people’s world?”

44. “I may have, accidently adopted five cats.”

45. “The problem is: if I kiss you, I don’t think I’d be able to stop.”

46. “I can lose everything! But not you, oh god, not you!”

47. “Kill me if you must, but I will not bow to a king, who wears a crown studded with jewels of every life he’s taken.”

48. “I am the monster you created.”

49. “Why should I apologies for being the monster I’ve become? No one ever apologised for making me this way!”

50. “The chains may be broken, but are you truly free?”

51. “The devil’s got nothing on me, my friend.”

52. “Clever as the devil and twice as pretty.”

53. “Can I stay in the reality of your universe? Mine sucks.”

54. “So, what’s your plan?” – “My plan was to follow your plan!”

55. “I do what I want and you’ll do what you’re told!”

56. “This is my life now. I climbed that hill and I’ll die upon it.” – “Shut up! We’ve only been hiking for like five minutes!”

57. “I’m getting the distinct feeling that I’m not welcome here.”

58. “Don’t bleed on my floor!”

59. “…I think I broke him/her.”

60. “You’ve got to believe me!” – “Sorry, but I tend to not believe compelling liars.”

61. “I’d take a bullet for you, you know that.” – “You’re immortal. And I’m going to kill you if you keep saying that.”

62. “I know it’s three in the morning, but I can’t find my cat.”

63. “If you walk out that door…don’t you ever come back.”

64. “Will you just let me think for a minute and let me think?!”

65. “Ignore me. I didn’t see anything.”

66. “I’m in love…shit.”

67. “You look…” – “Beautiful, I know. Can we please move on now?”

68. “I’ve never stood a chance, did I?” – “That’s the sad part. You once did.”

69. “I thought you forgot about me.” – “Never.”

70. “I’d agree with you, but then we’d both be wrong.”

71. “We have like five people trying to kill us. What are we gonna do?” – “Well, it’s more like nine.” – “Oh well, I’m sorry I wasn’t specific enough!”

72. “Oh, look at all the pretties!” – “Can you please stop talking about assault rifles, the same way you talk about shoes?”

73. “I am way to sober for this shit.”

74. “Stop that.” – “Stop what?” – “That thing you’re doing with your face when you’re happy. It’s making me nauseous.”

75. “Take my hand.” – “Why?” – “I’m trying to ask you to marry me! So, take my damned hand!”

76. “Well, do as I say, not as I do.”

77. “Come here.” – “Why?” – “Just come here!” – “No, you’re gonna hit me!”

78. “I’m fine.” – “You don’t look fine.” – “Then stop looking.”

79. “You need to stop doing that!” – “Doing what?” – “Things that make me want to kiss you.”

80. “I’m not a doctor, but I think he’s dead.”

81. “I’d love to insult you, but I’m afraid I won’t do as well as nature did.”

82. “Want to come over? Nobody’s home.” – “On my way.” – “I’m here, where are you?” – “Told you nobody’s home.”

Characters:

Divergent:

Eric

Four

Hunger Games:

Peeta

Gale

Finnick

The walking dead:

Daryl

Negan

Rick

Glenn

NCIS:

Gibbs

Criminal MInds:

Hotchner

Spencer

Lord of the rings:

Aragorn

Legolas

Frodo

Sam

Merry

Pippin

The Hobbit:

Thranduil

White Collar:

Neal

Percy Jackson:

Percy

Luke

Riverdale:

Jughead

FP Jones

Harry Potter:

Harry

Ron

Draco

Fred & George

Tom Riddle

Snape

Neville

Marvel:

Loki

Thor

Captain America

Iron Man

Actors:

Tom Hiddleston

Benedict Cumberbatch

Jeffrey Dean Morgan

Sebastian Stan

Jai Courtney

Tom Felton

Jeremy Renner

Bill Skarsgard

YouTube:

Dan Howell

Markiplier

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jobanana7 · 7 years ago

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the one with all the christmases

so i’ve been binge watching friends and i got to this episode so this fic happen so this is very much inspired by chandler’s time in tulsa… enjoy! also i promised @chele20035 i would write something christmasy so there it is!!!!all mistakes (and boy i bet they are a few) are mine, i do not own the hunger games nor do i own f.r.i,e..n.d.s

When Peeta Mellark fell asleep in his company’s meeting and woke up to find out that he’d say yes to moving to district 11 without knowing what he was saying yes to he thought to himself that it was fine, he taught about everything he was getting out of it: the company will load him a brand new mercedes! that was it. ok so it sucked , it sucked even more when he tried to tell his wife. she tired to be as supportive as a wife can be and he’ll never forget those beautiful words she used when the gather everyone to tell them they were moving “i have to go don´t i? cause of this stupid thing” and she pull up her wedding ring aaa his loving wife, but dammit he missed her like crazy. he should’ve told her to turn down that new job she landed but the project Abernathy gaver her at her biology lap was too good to past, looking around this office he kinda wishes he did thought.

“Ok everyone is really necessary, the name calling and the note on my back? you can all call me peeta by the way” he said as he sat down on his uncomfortable office chair, he received a collective grown as an answer , he glared at his team

“My son is in a play right now” his right hand Seeder says

“You people want me to say it? i’ll say it, this sucks! is it really quite shitty to be stuck in an office on Christmas alright but at least you all get to go to your families at the end of the day, i get to go to a cold hotel room and a very questionable bed!” he cried almost winned, really but at this point he was over it of this dead end job as an accountant had everyone back home loved what they were doing first there was Finn his beast buud and actor who thanks to his good looks landed the lead in a soap opera that was a an instant hit, the there was Madge and Gale an odd pair who should be together if you asked him one a fashion executive at Gucci and the other a professor on environmental science ,finally there was Jo a masseuse by day and a fighter for human rights by night , what did he had?

“Now it feels like a holiday! and hey great pep talk!” the new girl chimes in, blue eyes full of laughter

“I know and i’m sorry, but hey! i know what’ll cheer ya up” he says pulling out the white eveloves he was handed earlies by her supervisor Mrs. Coin “you know a little bonus for all your hard work”

“ a donation was made in your name to the New York ballet” someone reads out loud

“Well that’s like money in your pocket” he says but just barely fooling anyone

“i can’t wait! “ the same girl, GLimmer was it? says “what would you be doing back home right now?” she asks

“ Oh well, our Christmases are pretty traditional just the usual ” he says and he’s brought back to one of his favorites christmases….

“so i wrote this song for some very special people in my life so… here we go “went to the store and sat on Santa’s lap asked him to bring friends all kinds of crap he sias all you need one little song now you haven’t heard it so don’t try to sing along… no don’t sing along, finnick oh finnick have a happy christmas eve, saw santa Claus he wanted he wanted Peeta’s buns, please tell Gale this year will be real snowwyyy and Madge and Katniss i love you guys something”… thank you all, happy holly days!” jo said as people on the coffeehouse applauded to her.

that was one of the few memories he’s made with thi bunch of people in over 7 years, Peeta makes his decision right them and there

“ You know what, go home everyone, be with your families is bad enough that we’re working new years eve too.” Everyone gape up at Peeta anger clearly written on everyone’s face “ Did i not tell anyone about new years? go. go home” His team didn’t need to be told twice, within the minute everyone was gone

“Oh your not gonna go?” Peeta asked Glimmer “naaaah i can’t leave you alone with all this mess, besides i don’t have anywhere to go my family is upstate” he’s nodding his head when the office phone rings

“ Peeta Mellark speaking” he tell the line

“Hi babe, we just wanted to call to wish you a merry christmas!” Katniss, his beautiful wife says to him and he hears a chorus of “merry christmas” from his friends as his heart swells at the gesture

“awe merry christmas to you guys too, i miss you all” Peeta returns the sentiment genuinely

“is it real bad over there? everyone working hard?” Katniss asks

“No everyone left is just me and Glimmer here” at her name Glimmer perks up waving at the phone as if she was greeting his wife.

“Oh, that is kind of a girls name, isn’t t?” Katniss aks trying to sound casual but he knows her better that that

“ it is, but is ok she’s just the new intern dont worry, did i not told you about her?” Peeta asks and her hears a light “aja” from his wife and a “wrong move dude” form one of the guys, he sewars is Finn

“ Where’s your team?” she finally aks “I send them home” he admits to hi wife not wanting her to worry about this, is funny how she still has no idea the effect she has on him

“Such a good boss, is she pretty?” Katniss says and edge her voice

“Oh honey, don’t be angry if i could i would be with you guys but i can’t besides she’s just a colleague” she reasures her “ there’s really nothing to worry about”

“ok” she says a little harsh

“ok?” he ask her going for just a second to that place where only the two of them go where even when they are apart is like he’s right with her, his voice soft and low

“ok” she breathes out more gently this time and he smiles even jealous he is completely crazy about her “Merry Christmas love” is a whisper to her and she returns it

“Merry christmas you guys” he says to to his friends and eternal trirt wheels and they say it back after promising Finn he’ll be back soon he hangs up, he turns back to Glimmer not wanting to make a big deal about what she just heard

“ The wife says hey” Peeta laughs at set the phone down on the desk

“ ha, been following the conversation” she says, setting down some documents

“Well she just thought that because we’re alone something’s gonna happen” he sheepishly admits

“ oh really?” Gimmer says reaching out to smooth his tie and he steps back “would that be so terrible so terrible?” sha asks seductably witch makes his so confused because he’s never thought of himself as sexy and in any case the only person he want to be saxy for a far awy not this blonde, blue eyed assistant that would just make it more of a cheesy pron that anything else

“ok step back there Glimmer, i am married” he says and Glimmer pulls up her hand “Me too” he rolls his eyes “ i’m HAPPILY married ” he clarifies to her “ oh, what’s that like” Glimmer asks

“Yeah so i’m sorry nothing is gonna happen tonight besides me getting node with this papers” he says to he firmly

“ seriously, you’re happily married? so the phone call just now was happy?” she questions him

“Well we’re apart is hard you know? she is right to be a little worried i know i would be if i were her and in this case she’s right, but she’s amazing and smart and if she were her… well you’d be gone by now, you seem lovely but no i don’t need this what i have back home with K is all i need ” Peeta tells her honestly

“let me ask you something then, if it’s enough, why are you here with me on a holy day?” Glommer says and she seems to be serious and he come up empty because truly … there is no one good reason he has to apart from her …

“ wowowowo what’s happening, you and i just made out? we’re making out” twenty four year old peeta asks twenty three year old katniss

“well not anymore” she says out just centimeters away from his lips as her arms were around his neck her silky red dress against his pajamas making weaked things to his brains

that was the beginning of it at Gale’s wedding in London Katniss was upset because she was watching her brother get married for the first time with incidentally ended up in a divorce for Gale

the first time they fought when Jo broke her arm and Madge got them dated with some nurses

“well you made it clear that we’re just goofing around, so i figured why no goof around with him too” katniss said referring to an earlier comment he’d made

“ i don’t know if you’ve looked the term “goof around” but i have and it said that technically is two friends that care a great deal for one another and have amazing sex and like to be together” he cringed “ i am so bad at this“

a smiling Katniss had told him that that was true, they did cared about each other and they spend the rest of that night together not quite ready to tell their friends about each other

“ Peeta you’re not listening to me!! i don’t care that we can’t afford a big wedding right now, the only thing that matters to me is that i’m getting married to the love of my life, big wedding or not.” katniss argued but Peeta wanted to give her the perfect wedding day to her to treat her like a princess, a queen but at twenty six his job was unsteady, he found himself frustrated unable to meet this one expectation but she was right she never asked for anything he couldn’t give her, ever.

“ but don’t you want a big beautiful wedding where our families can see you walked down a beautiful isle and your dad will give you away, Maddy as the flower girl?” he asked because that was his dream exactly to see Gale’s little one walk first with the floews and then, Prim Madge and Jo as maid or honor and the al last her, his bride in a white dress with her dad.

“i really don’t, i swear, i don’t my parents didn’t have a big wedding and i want what they have. a home , a marriage” she said

“a little girl with your eyes” he whispered reaching out to cup her face stilling a soft kiss the smile that she gave him when he pulled out was so bright it nearly blinded him

“ a little boy with your hair”

soon they were engaged and married the last 2 years of his life had been the best ones yet only to be topped with the news of their own little one on the way and here he was waistinging his life on this job and this Christmas as well so he walked out right out of there.

NEW YORK (4 hours later)

he heard their voices as he approached the apartament , he was home finally stepping in he heard Jo first

“ oh look! is snowing you guys!” he says excitedly everyone was by the window when we cleared his throat they all looked back at him, on seconds his wife was on him kissing him firestly

“ woow we have a baby here people” Madge reminded them of hunter her and Gale’s son, they pulled away hos and resting on his own baby

“what happened, don’t you have to be in district 11 ohio? can the fire you?” Katniss asked consent on her voice

“turns out they can’t because i quitted” he said katniss gasped

“ you quit your job?” Gale asked shooked

“yeah, i couldn’t stand being away from you and i know this is not the time but, i’ve bee planit to leave since we learned about the baby and i’ve already applied to other jobs, jobs i could be better at and plat just as well” he rescued her and her face relaxed “what do you think? i’m sorry i didn’t talk to you about this before but today was the last drop, plus , i missed you ” he kissed her knuckles but before she could talk Finn piped in

“but who did you missed the most?” he asked his trademarked Finnick Odiar smile on handsome face

“Katniss” Peeta said without a moment’s hesitation

“yeah, that’s cool dude” Finn said playing cool then making faces as if to say “ i know you HAD to say that for Katniss’s sakes i you you missed me more”

“But really are you, ok with this?” he asked katniss once more

“i think you hated your job and if you can do something you like, support you” his wife said and she kissed him again

“Peet, i can’t tell you how happy i am that you’re back” Jo finally said and he was touched to hear that from her “thi is honestly the best christma gif i’ve been given, but now give me the real one” he laughed and kissed her cheek handig the white envelopes

“A donation was made in your name to the New York ballet” Gale read out loud “ how did ya know?” he said sarcastically

“ but wait i can’t return these” Madge winned

“I DON’T HAVE A JOB” Pee eclamed

the end

#my fic #everlark fic #f.r.i.e.n.d.s #mondler #everlark

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ellanainthetardis · 7 years ago

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I saw this first meeting au: “My cat steals underwear and I come home to find you chasing my cat to get your underwear back” on a list and I just… couldn’t resist XD So you get a modern Au that’s half crack and half steam with a small amount of feelings on top. I don’t really know what this is but hopefully, some of you might like it!

[FF] or [ao3]

Buttercup, The Cat Burglar

Haymitch tossed his coat on the closest armchair, grumbling under his breath about how cold it was, both outside and in the house. The first thing he did was add a few logs in the dying fire and stroke it until it was a decent size again. Then, he turned around with the firm intention of pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

He hated market day.

He hated it with a passion.

He wasn’t sure if raising geese he had no desire to eat or sell so they could become food would be considered a lucrative business. As it was, he sell the eggs twice a week and the feathers he collected every couple of months, it didn’t make a fortune but added to the money he still had from his time in the military – because doing special secret operations for the government paid better than his birds – he got by easily. He wasn’t a great spender anyway now that the girls were both gone. A bottle of whiskey now and then – not enough to get irremediably addicted as promised to his surrogate kids – some books, and he was good.

He didn’t startle when he turned round to find the ugly ginger cat comfortably lying right where he hadn’t been a second ago. One would think he would have gotten used to the presence in his house but one would be very, very wrong. It was hard to get used to the muddy yellow tomcat, with its missing ear and mashed-in nose, jumping from every shadow to either hiss at you or rub against your legs lovingly, depending if he was in the mood for mayhem or food.

“What did you do now?” Haymitch asked with a resigned weariness. “Please, tell me it ain’t Greasy Sae’s stocking again…”

Ever since Prim had left for college, the cat had more or less moved from the Everdeens’ house to his. He figured that it was because Katniss had moved in with Peeta and Aster was still fragile and could barely take care of herself. He had never extended an invitation to the stupid cat but Buttercup seemed to have decided that with his owner gone for an extensive amount of time and his owner’s sister – who he hated – at the other side of town, Haymitch’s couch was the next best place to wait until Prim came back for the holidays.

So the fact that the cat seemed to have become kleptomaniac since Prim left seemed to fall on him – at least, according to the neighbors.

It had started with socks. Various sizes and colors, although almost always from Beetee Latier’s house – he knew, because after placing traps and catching the cat in a box, Beetee had knocked on his door with the culprit effectively jailed. Socks were handed back against the cat, promises were made that it would never happen again.

Of course, it had happened again.

Except not just with Beetee.

Lately, Buttercup seemed to have developed a liking for old Sae’s support stockings. The number of times he had strode back into the house with one of those dangling from his mouth…

Greasy Sae wasn’t someone who liked to joke around and he didn’t enjoy when she came around to lecture him on how to raise cats. She wasn’t moved when he pointed out Prim had done the raising. He was just… cat-sitting.

Whatever Buttercup had stolen now, it didn’t really look like a sock and Haymitch took a step closer, not frightened by the low grumbling of the clawed monster. They had an understanding the two of them. If the cat attacked him, the cat would go back to his own house and try his chance with Aster for a few days. A week of irregular meals that were never his favorite treats usually brought him back much easier to deal with.

At first, he almost concluded it was another of Sae’s stockings because of the fabric. It looked a little like nylon. Except it was an undefined color between green and blue. A pretty color, truth be told, that didn’t really fit Sae. Then, he realized it wasn’t nylon at all but lace and that the cat had already destroyed a good portion of it.

With the dexterity brought by experience, he snatched it away, tugging when Buttercup’s quick paw made a good job at trying to reclaim it by stabbing the delicate fabric with its claws.

Eventually, he managed to free it and let out a low impressed whistle once he figured out what he was holding. Lacy see through blue-green panties with a cheeky little golden bow on the back.

“Hope you didn’t get that from Sae.” he snorted, glancing at the cat. “You’re gonna get me in trouble again.”

Buttercup kneaded the couch with his claws in answer, a glint of murder in his black eyes. He was still staring at the ruined panties and Haymitch shook his head before going to the kitchen to throw them away, wondering if living with him had turned that cat into a psycho or if he had already been one before and just behaving for Prim’s sake.

Sae never came raging about an alleged panties theft so Haymitch forgot all about the matter.

At least until three days later when he found Buttercup very busy nuzzling what looked like a frilly pink thong on their kitchen’s table.

“You dirty, dirty old boy.” he accused, snatching the piece of clothing away. This one hadn’t suffered like the last one, which meant the cat hadn’t gotten around to playing with it yet or that he hadn’t been hungry enough to try and eat it. Or that he was more into nuzzling it but, really, that was pushing boundaries he didn’t feel comfortable exploring.

He studied the soft piece of fabric, unable to stop himself. It was delicate and just as see-through as the blue-green one had been, except for two thicker lines of lace at the seams that wouldn’t hide anything from view. Pretty.

“Wonder where you find this stuff.” he mumbled, his mouth suddenly a bit parched.

It had been quite a while since the last time he had let Chaff convince him to go into a bar to pick up someone and… He cleared his throat and put the thong in the box full of stolen items he kept on top of a cupboard, telling himself he would go out and find someone soon. Clearly, if he was turned on by the pink thong of a random stranger who could be absolutely ugly for all he knew, he needed to get laid very badly.

The next theft happened two days after that.

This time it was a burgundy thing in between a thong and panties, still see-through, with a triangle hole on the bottom. He figured the hole would fit right on the small of the woman’s back and…

“You started stealing in town, yeah?” he asked, his voice tight.

He didn’t know a single woman in their immediate neighborhood that would wear this sort of things. They were all either very old women or frantic mothers who were always late for something. He couldn’t imagine any in that sort of expensive kinky lingerie. Not one.

Buttercup was very irritated when he confiscated his new toy and tried to scratch him. After a couple of hours though, Haymitch was apparently forgiven on account of the cat’s empty stomach. It was almost funny to watch the animal roll on his lap and purr like a turbine, trying to get back into his good grace.

“Stupid cat.” Haymitch mumbled. “Stop stealing this stuff. I’ve got enough ‘you need a girlfriend’ bullshit from Finnick, I don’t need you jumping on that wagon. I sure don’t need a woman anyway. Though, can’t say I’d say no to a good fuck.”

He hadn’t called Chaff yet. Because Chaff, like Finnick and the rest of their friends including Prim and Katniss, were of the opinion that since he was done playing full time mentor-slash-unofficial-guardian to his neighbor’s daughters, he needed to find something else to do on the side. And by something else to do, what they really meant was someone else. Peeta had even tried to create him an account on a dating website, he had lost count of the number of blind dates he had narrowly escaped in the last couple of months… No, it was much safer to stay home, filter his calls and avoid his friends as much as possible.

He could go to the bar by himself and find a willing woman but with no one there to keep him from the edge, it would most likely end up with him getting wasted than with a one-night-stand. And if he called Finnick or Chaff… He needed to get laid, true, but he didn’t need – nor wanted – a girlfriend. No matter what his friends thought.

His last serious relationship had ended up with the girl dead along with the rest of his family while he was on the other end of the planet for a stupid mission – the one that had cost him half his team and during which he had been forced to witness forty-eight kids dying when a school was accidentally bombed. A success all around.

He would probably have ended up a waste of space, a cliché drunkard vet who could barely function, if he hadn’t met Katniss a few years after he had come back. Eleven and an orphan with a defiant attitude, a stubborn streak that was far too endearing, an adorable little sister and a depressed mother – and so very much in need of help, he had been invested before he had even realized it. Prim often said he had saved them but, really, it was the other way around.

And now they were both gone because that was how those things go. Children left the nest. And he was lonely and bored and, sure, Katniss checked in every two days and he liked her boyfriend a lot because Peeta was a sweet boy who always made sure he had fresh bread and didn’t forget to eat but… It wasn’t the same.

He didn’t need a girlfriend though.

That was just his stupid friends projecting their own life goals on him.

He jumped with a curse when Buttercup bit his hand and he glared at the tomcat on his lap.

“Yeah, fine. Let’s get you fed, you monster.” he spat, chasing him from his knees.

Routine, he told himself, routine was good. Feed the cat, grab a book… Maybe a good jerk off before bed…

Routine.

A routine that was disturbed the next morning, while he was checking on the geese, by Buttercup dashing down the street and straight through the open kitchen door as if the devil himself was hot on his heels, something red dangling between his teeth. Haymitch followed after him because the red thing looked much bigger than panties or socks.

The cat was out of breath, huddling in the corner of the kitchen, and it took Haymitch almost a whole minute to snatch the piece of fabric Buttercup had stolen this time. Lace again but not panties… He turned it around a couple of times, trying to make sense of it. Was it a bra or a top? It looked far too… slutty for a top so it must have been lingerie, a bra, yeah… Two triangle of lace that tied around the neck and the back, with a very big diamond-shaped hole in the middle that couldn’t hide much at all.

The bra’s cups didn’t look big… He was about to guess at the size by trying to fit his fist there – scientific curiosity and nothing else – when the doorbell rang. Three times in a row.

Haymitch glared at Buttercup because he had a good idea what it was about and tossed the bra on the kitchen’s table before making his way to the front door. By that time, whoever it was had rung it two more times and he hated that sound. Most people knocked around there. It wasn’t that big a town, after all.

He brutally opened the door, a scowl on his face.

The woman was… Gorgeous, was a good word for it. Posh, was another one. He didn’t think he had ever seen someone so posh in their little corner of the world before. She was wearing a soft grey high-waist pencil skirt, impossibly tall heels and a blue blouse that made her eyes look even bluer than they already were. The legs were endless and the eyes were very blue, her blond hair was pinned high in a severe bun that reminded him of Tinkerbell – because Prim had had a phase around ten when she wanted her hair just like that all the time – and didn’t suit her at all.

She looked uptight – which he hated.

Except he had a good idea of what kind of stuff she was wearing under those strict clothes and that wasn’t uptight at all – which was interesting.

“Yeah?” he said, not bothering to hide his annoyance at being disturbed.

She pursed her lips but forced a pleasant polite smile when she outstretched her hand. “Mr Abernathy, I suppose? Effie Trinket. I recently moved in a little further down the street.”

Damn but her voice was high-pitched.

And her accent… Clipped vowels and an affected tone…

The airs she was giving herself.

He folded his arms in front of his chest and ignored the hand, a little disappointed. Not that he had been fantasizing about the kinky panties’ owner but… Well, he had been a little. Maybe he had let himself picture a nice woman with a generous laugh, glossy dark hair and easy to get along who would have joked the whole criminal cat off.

And instead what he got was…

What even was she to dress like that? An accountant? A lawyer? A secretary?

“And?” he prompted when she simply stood there, waiting for him to acknowledge her words or welcome her in the neighborhood or whatever people did those days.

She pursed her lips even further and narrowed her eyes, letting her hand drop back to her side. He had to give her that, when she spoke, her voice was perfectly controlled, not a hint of irritation came through. “Do you, by any chance, own a cat, Mr Abernathy?”

“Nope.” he shrugged.

Her jaw clenched, her blue eyes glared daggers and he found himself shifting because…

She was very, very hot.

And he couldn’t stop thinking about the red bra on his kitchen table and how he had been right, there wasn’t much up there but enough that it would fit perfectly in his hands and…

Her next words jerked him off from the fantasy he was quickly falling into.

“How peculiar.” she hissed. “You see, I asked around and the consensus seems to be that you own a particular ginger cat with a missing ear.”

“That’s Primrose Everdeen’s cat, you’re looking for.” he told her, glancing around behind her.

The street was calm and deserted but he knew there would be at least one or two old women behind their curtains, spying on them. After all, Sae’s stockings weren’t the only ones that had been stolen and that Effie Trinket looked like the kind of person who give him a good run for his money. He supposed old ladies had to find their revenge where they could. Unless it was Beetee who still hadn’t forgiven him for his favorite socks getting ruined who had directed her to him.

“Primrose Everdeen.” she repeated, clearly not convinced.

He helpfully pointed at the right house, thinking it was only right Aster had to deal with this. It was her cat too after all. “Next door.”

He didn’t feel very guilty about it. Aster would probably not even answer the doorbell. She never did.

Effie Trinket – and what kind of name was that ? – didn’t even glance in the direction he indicated. She placed her hands on her hips and studied him.

She was aggravated, that was plain to see. She was also very much checking him out if he wasn’t mistaken.

He lifted his eyebrows, his lips stretching into a smirk.

She ignored it.

“Everyone seemed to agree the cat was yours.” she remarked.

“Everyone’s wrong.” he shrugged.

“Then, why did I see him dash into your backyard just a few minutes ago?” she retorted with a sweet, sweet smile that promised a thousand torture wrapped in a nice little bow.

“Didn’t say I wasn’t feeding him.” He smirked harder.

She blinked twice but he couldn’t really guess at what was happening in her head. She had a very good poker face.

“Do you train your cat to commit burglaries, Mr Abernathy?” she asked.

How she could word that question with a straight face, he wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t help a chuckle. “Ain’t my cat, sweetheart. I’m just making sure he doesn’t starve.”

She opened her mouth and then closed it only to open it again, her tone suddenly more chilly. “My name is Effie Trinket. You may address me as Effie or Miss Trinket but you certainly cannot call me sweetheart.”

“Sure.” he agreed easily. “Sorry. Princess.”

If looks could kill, he would have dropped dead.

It really shouldn’t have been that attractive.

But maybe if she would stop sneaking glances at his mouth…

“Your cat repeatedly broke into my house.” she accused.

He rolled his eyes. “Ain’t my cat and it ain’t my fault he likes socks. Take it up with Prim when she comes back from college.”

“Oh, I think we are both aware he did not steal socks.” she snapped. “Now. Do you have my belongings or should I simply go to the police station and report you for…”

“For what?” he challenged, amused.

“Feline mugging!” she exclaimed, poking his chest with an accusative finger. “You trained that beast to sneak into innocent women’s home and steal their underwear! Probably for your twisted enjoyment!”

He snorted at that. “You know, I’m half tempted to go with you just to see Cray’s face if you try to report that.” He shook his head, eyes twinkling in amusement. It had been a while since someone had bothered to keep up with him in that kind of banter. And he wasn’t the only one that the conversation had amused. He could see it under her irritation. She was enjoying this too. Maybe a little too much. Her finger was still poking at his chest, less too accuse and more to… check firmness. He batted it away. “Come in. Your stuff’s in the kitchen.”

He stepped back but she didn’t move.

She lifted perfectly shaped eyebrows. “You expect me to walk into the home of a possible pervert?”

“My cat’s the pervert.” he mocked, heading to the kitchen, leaving her to follow or stay there.

“I thought it wasn’t your cat?” she retorted.

Still, after a few seconds, he heard the front door closing and the echoing sound of her heels on floorboards. He tossed her a glance over his shoulder, not quite surprised to see her less than impressed with his house. It was a mess and not as clean as it should be. Hazelle did her best but even the most awesome housekeeper couldn’t match his natural tendency for chaos.

“Holding your nose?” he taunted. “Smell that bad?”

She looked horrified at having been found out.

“I would never!” she protested with a huff. “How rude do you suppose me to be?” She pursed her lips, looked around again and then… “I do not mean to offend you in any way but why does it smell so much like poultry?”

“’Cause some of the geese wandered in this morning.” he shrugged. He tended to leave the backdoor open and that sort of things happened more than he wanted to linger on. Hazelle always complained about having to clean geese poop from his floors.

“Geese.” she repeated slowly, understanding quickly dawning on her face. The honking had probably puzzled her. “Do you own any normal pet?”

“Normal’s overrated, sweetheart.” he dismissed.

Her face hardened again. She really wasn’t keen on pet names.

Which only made him all the more determined to use them.

Riling her up was fun.

“There you are.” she scowled once she stepped in the kitchen and found Buttercup sitting in the middle of the table, relaxed as you pleased, his butt on the red lace Haymitch had tossed there earlier. “You are a very naughty cat, mister.”

Buttercup flicked his brushy tail one way and then the other, eyeing her with obvious disdain.

Haymitch privately thought he looked less proud of himself earlier when he had been running like hell from her fury.

He grabbed the plastic box from the top of the cupboard and handed it to her. “Take whatever’s yours.”

She looked stunned at the number of pieces of clothing in the box. Socks mainly, a couple of stockings, a few half-eaten tights and, of course, her underwear.

He kept his eyes averted because now that she was standing right there in his kicthen, he felt bad.

It wasn’t that she was embarrassed exactly but she did blush a little when she quickly snatched her thongs. Her previous indignation wasn’t so funny anymore. After all, she didn’t know him and he had seen something private he hadn’t been meant to. She had every right to be furious. After the cat and after him for not controlling the furry pest better.

He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “I tossed the first one in the trash. He had eaten it.”

“I see.” she said flatly before clearing her throat. “My bra, if you will? I dare not approach this cat, he almost clawed my arm off earlier.”

The blouse’s sleeves covered any possible injury from view but Haymitch winced, knowing just how vicious Buttercup could be. He didn’t escape unscathed when he rescued the bra but he didn’t think it warranted her shocked gasp. The scratches on his forearm were bleeding but it wasn’t that bad. He opened the cold tap and let water stream on it, watching her ball her underwear, probably hoping it would make it less obvious what she was carrying.

“There are trash bags in that cupboard.” he offered, pointing to a low cupboard.

“Thank you.” Her smile was relieved and grateful and, for the first time since she had rung that doorbell, genuine. It was also breathtaking. Not that Haymitch would have had admitted that. She quickly hid everything from view in the trash bag and then approached him to peer at the wound on his arm. “Do you have a first aid kit? I think you need a bandage at the very least.”

He was half tempted to let her play nurse.

“Ain’t that bad.” he denied, turning the water off and flicking his hand a few times before wiping it with a dishcloth that had been abandoned on the counter. “Look… I’m sorry, alright? For real.” He wasn’t really good at apologies and he felt awkward now. “I know I should probably have tried to find you to give it back but… He’s only stolen socks and stuff like that before, never…”

“Well… He has good lingerie taste.” she joked. “There is always that.”

Her eyes were riveted on the floor and there was a soft blush on her cheeks. It was obvious she was uncomfortable and that made him feel even worse because… He didn’t want her to feel that way. It wasn’t right.

“I didn’t look.” he lied.

She shot him an incredulous look and he winced.

“Not much.” he amended.

Her lips twitched and while the awkwardness didn’t completely disappear, she looked more amused than ill-at-ease. Confident again. He liked that, he realized, the charisma she had.

“Can’t promise it won’t happen again.” he warned. “He’s been acting out since my kid left for school.”

She frowned, curiosity written all over her face. “I thought you said it was the neighbor’s cat?”

“It is.” he confirmed and then rolled his eyes because he was so used to everyone knowing the story that it was odd to have to explain it. “The girls next door are kind of my kids. Raised them. Sort of. It’s complicated.”

“I see.” she said. She studied him for a second and then flashed him a polite smile. “Well. It was nice to meet you, Mr Abernathy, but I am afraid I must dash. I simply must get to work.”

“Okay.” he shrugged, walking her back to the front door. He watched her strut down his lane and then called out, just as she was opening the gate. “Name’s Haymitch, by the way.”

She paused, looked back with another of those blinding smiles, and then continued on her way down the street.

He found Buttercup sulking on the couch.

“Fine.” he snorted. “You’ve got taste.”

The cat growled in answer but Haymitch dropped next to him anyway, ignoring his bad mood. Buttercup was always in a bad mood.

He spent the whole day in a weird frame of mind, unable to shake off the memory of Effie Trinket staring him down. Fuck, but he had forgotten how hot a fiery woman could be.

It was all it was, of course, and he told himself that firmly.

She was witty and beautiful and clearly had no trouble flirting with strangers who owned a pervert cat…

And he had a bad case of blue balls.

When he kicked his sweatpants off that night and wrapped his hand around himself, it was just to relieve some of that tension. So, sure, he first started thinking about glaring women and, sure, those women soon turned into one gorgeous blue-eyed blonde. It wasn’t right to jerk off to the thought of the new neighbor he had only met because his cat had stolen her – kinky – panties but he was too far off to care at that point…

He couldn’t stop imagining her, what she would look like… How it would feel to rip that skirt and blouse off her, too easy to picture the red bra or the pink thong on her… None of that tight bun on her head either… Her blond hair sprawled on the pillow under her head… His fingers tangling in the strands…

His hand was rough and almost brutal as he stroke himself to relief.

Would she be rough or sweet? Soft or violent? Shy or passionate?

The possibilities were endless and by the time he made a mess of his sheets, he was out of breath, delirious with lust and half-hoping Buttercup would steal from her again just so he could have an excuse to approach her.

Not that he would ask her out…

He didn’t ask women out.

He didn’t date.

He didn’t…

But maybe they could…

Yeah, a sarcastic voice at the back of his mind mocked, a woman like her, she’s clearly into one night stands. Sure. Tell yourself that.

“Shit.” he muttered.

He hated to think the voice was right but he wasn’t very talented at hoping or lying to himself. He flopped on his stomach, firmly told himself to stop being an idiot and forced himself to go to sleep.

He went out into town the next day.

Because he was low on groceries, not because he was hoping to bump into her.

If he had hoped to bump into her, he would have been disappointed anyway because she was nowhere to be found.

He stopped at the bakery last, happy to find Katniss there so he could lecture her again about what an inconvenience her stupid cat was.

“It’s Prim’s cat, not mine.” was the only answer he got out of the girl.

Two more days passed without any burglary – although he did have a moment of hope when he found Buttercup munching on a black fabric but it turned to be one of his socks – and Haymitch pretended very hard he wasn’t disappointed with that. He wondered if she had found a system to keep her underwear a little more secure than previously or if she had just gotten better at making sure the cat couldn’t get in at all.

He wondered a lot about her.

It was ridiculous, of course. He had seen her once. Utterly ridiculous. And he was done with this weird obsession. Completely done. He was over it. Absolutely over it.

From Hazelle – who he subtly interrogated while she was doing the cleaning and complaining about how he couldn’t keep his house spotless for three bloody days straight – he got that she had moved in a little over two weeks earlier from a big city. From Sae, he figured out she wasn’t much of a cook because either she came to the restaurant – and mostly ate alone – or she ordered take out. From Peeta, he learned that she had bought the empty building at the corner of the street from the bakery and was planning to open a lingerie shop – which explained a lot if not everything. From Katniss, all he found out was that the woman was odd – which probably meant too eccentric and posh for her tastes.

After a week of heavy denial and quite a few evenings spent pretending he wasn’t jerking off to fantasies of her touching him, he finally admitted she had caught his eye and that he should do something about it.

A resolution that was quickly forgotten when he realized he hadn’t seen Buttercup in a while. He hadn’t been immediately worried because the cat came and went as he pleased and it wasn’t unheard of for him to go back to the Everdeens’ house for a night or two or even to Katniss and Peeta’s but it was odd for him not to come back and ask for food three days in a row.

He refused to admit being worried because it wasn’t like he cared about the cat – it was well known Haymitch Abernathy didn’t care for anything or anyone after all, or at least that was what he liked to pretend – but it was Prim’s cat and Prim would be devastated if anything happened to him. He looked everywhere for the stupid animal. At Aster’s, at the bakery, in the meadow, in every street and dark alley…

So, in the end, it was a bit anticlimactic when the doorbell rang, just as he was about to call Katniss and beg her to help him hunt Buttercup down, to find Effie Trinket standing on his doorstep with a slightly displeased expression on her face.

He had been imagining that very scene for a while now – and in every version of it, he was quite the charmer and it ended always ended with a kiss – but now he had more pressing concerns.

“Buttercup didn’t steal anything.” he snapped defensively before she could open her mouth. “He’s gone. I can’t find him.”

“Oh, I know.” she breathed out with obvious irritation. “He is in my bed.”

He had to do a double take at that. “What?” He frowned, taking in the short tight red dress she was wearing. It was the complete opposite style of the skirt and blouse she had been wearing the other day and he wondered if that was her being relaxed or if… “Is that a come-on?”

Because he was tempted.

But the missing cat…

She lifted her eyebrows, an amused smile floating on her lips. “Not quite. Your cat is literally in my bed and I cannot shoo him away without him hissing at me. I thought about just… bundling him in the sheets but I do not want to hurt him, no matter how rude he acts. Could you…”

“Yeah.” he said at once, puzzled by what had gotten into that tomcat now. He had never done that before. Sneak into a neighbor’s house, yes. Steal stuff, yes. But just settle there?

He followed her down the street, trying not to be too obvious when he stared at her ass. It was impossible not to stare. It was right there and that dress clung to it like a second skin and she kept swinging her hips that bit too much…

“If you are quite done ogling me…” she grinned and he realized he had been so lost in his silent contemplation he had missed them reaching her house and her unlocking the door. She was waiting for him to come in, eyebrows raised.

“Wasn’t ogling you.” he muttered.

“You are not a great liar.” she snorted.

“Arrogant much?” he scoffed, annoyed at being found out so easily.

She thought she was in control here and that, that he didn’t like at all. He liked calling the shots. He liked being in charge. He liked…

“Perhaps.” she challenged. “However that does not mean I’m wrong.”

He ignored her smug face and stepped inside.

Challenging.

That was a good word for her. She was challenging. And fuck if he had ever been able to stop himself from raising to one.

Her house couldn’t have been more different to his. It was… colorful. Bright artworks on the walls, furniture made of dark cherry wood, colors everywhere else… Curtains, rugs… He glimpsed a red fridge and matching appliances on their way past the kitchen…

The layout of the house was similar to his though, so he wasn’t surprised when she led him up the stairs and to the left. The master bedroom was all in pink and cream tones. It was ridiculous but not without its charm, he figured.

Given that everything seemed to have its proper place in the house and that everything was meticulously clean, he very much doubted she had left the bed unmade that morning so he deduced that Buttercup had been the one making a mess of it. He had made himself a nice little nest with the bedspread and the sheets.

“He has been coming and going for the last couple of days.” she explained. “I think he spent the night downstairs once or twice. We had an agreement that as long as he did not steal my underwear again he was welcome.” She pursed her lips at the cat. “But this is taking it a bit far.”

“You could have said.” he spat. “I’ve been looking for him.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “What do I know of your cat’s habits? Trust me, I did not ask him to stay.”

He studied her with some mistrust. He wasn’t going to explain to Prim that a stranger had stolen her cat.

“Get your own pet.” he warned.

“Gladly.” she huffed. “Perhaps I will get a dog. It should keep your cat from breaking and entering.”

He looked her up and down and then smirked. “You ain’t a dog person. You’re high maintenance. Like a cat.”

“Oh, you think you have me all figured out, haven’t you?” she hissed.

“Not yet.” he shrugged. “But that’s the fun part.”

He half-expected her to blush or stutter but she stared straight back at him instead, her chin jutted high, a hint of defiance in her blue eyes… At least until her gaze darted to his mouth and she licked her own lips.

His smirked widened.

Had she been thinking about him too?

All the flirting didn’t mean she wanted more but…

“Get that cat off my bed.” she ordered.

“Bossy.” he commented.

“In everything.” she remarked in a casual way that was not casual at all. Her voice was just that little bit lower and…

“What do I get out of it?” he asked, folding his arms in front of his chest.

Buttercup was eying both of them in turn with very obvious annoyance.

“Your cat back.” she deadpanned.

“Maybe I don’t want him back.” he challenged.

“You wanted him back two seconds ago.” she remarked.

“Maybe I’m fickle.” he shrugged.

Her grin was slow and almost predatory, her eyes were twinkling with amusement. “I sincerely hope not. Fickle men are not worth my time.”

Suddenly the pink and cream tones of the room didn’t look so ridiculous. They look intimate. He wanted to step closer to her, maybe to kiss her just to erase that taunting grin from her lips…

He didn’t move.

If he moved first, he lost.

And he was very much enjoying the game.

“Maybe I want something more than just the cat.” he stated and he barely recognized his own voice. It was rough and just as predatory as her grin.

Another woman might have been intimidated or scared by a virtual stranger making that sort of heavy flirting in their bedroom, she barely blinked. She simply tilted her head to the side. “Name your price.”

“Maybe I want to see what you’ve got under your dress.�� He waited a second, just to make sure he wasn’t pushing it too far but when she just stood there and stared back with the very same glint of lust in her eyes, he licked his lips. “Maybe I want to see how this frilly stuff Buttercup stole looks on you.”

“That is assuming I have any underwear on.” she hummed.

A sound escaped his throat, halfway between a groan and a whine.

He wasn’t sure who moved first.

All he knew was that one second they were standing a respectable distance apart, the next her mouth was crushed against his, hot and demanding, and her hands were ripping buttons off his shirt. The kiss was almost brutal, dirty in all the right ways, her fingers tangled in his hair, pulled… He fumbled with the zipper of her dress, he tried to shove it down but it got stuck around her hips and she stopped him to slip it over her head instead…

She had a black lacy bra on underneath and the matching panties to go with.

And she was even more gorgeous than he had thought she would be.

He wasn’t sure how they ended up against the wall or where she had been hiding the condom she rolled on him.

They were kissing again, then she was tugging him and then he was pining her against the hard surface…

It was rough and frantic and he briefly wondered if she had been having a dry spell too because she looked as desperate and eager as he was…

The noises she was making though…

Fuck, but he could get addicted to those.

Moans and sighs and whimpers and whines…

It was over far too fast. Her strangled cry of pleasure brought him over the edge and he lost his footing frantically thrusting his release into her. They collapsed on the floor, half on the bedside rug, out of breath and a little sweaty.

It took him a good minute to get rid of the condom, knot it and carefully place it aside, too dizzy from his climax to properly compute. He didn’t even try to stand up. He was pretty sure his legs would have protested.

It could have turned awkward really fast – because what the hell had even just happened? – if she hadn’t started laughing.

“See… When a woman laughs right after I’m done with her, it doesn’t do wonders for my ego…” he joked.

She rolled on her side and hooked a leg over his hip, propping her head on her hand and patting his chest with her other one. “I have a feeling your ego doesn’t need any stroking.”

“I’ve got something else I’d prefer you to stroke anyway.” he smirked.

She glanced down and bit down on her bottom lip in a thoughtful way. He was almost scared by what her brain was imagining now. Almost. He was also excited to find out.

“Perhaps later.” she hummed. “Once you have chased the cat from my bed.”

It was a dangerous assumption. Later. He didn’t usually stick around long enough with a woman for there to be a later.

But she was gorgeous, feisty, very naked, very willing and still something of a riddle. He had never been able to resist a good riddle. Or a challenge. And she was both. She was both in a very appealing package.

“You’re a weird woman.” he told her.

She was so different from any he had met before… He wasn’t sure if it was a good or a bad thing yet.

“Says the very puzzling neighbor.” she chuckled instead of taking offense. “Do you know nobody I asked could give me the same explanation about you? According to some, you are a recluse, to others you are a secret millionaire or a generous sweet man with a boorish exterior I should definitely consider going out with…”

“Let me guess…” he snorted. “That was Sae.”

“Peeta actually.” she corrected. “Sae’s suggestions were more… akin to what we just did.”

He lifted his eyebrows, not sure if he should be surprised or disgusted by the idea of the old woman making that sort of implications. He chose to ignore it altogether and focus on the main thing. “So. You asked about me.” He probably sounded far too smug about that and maybe the taunting was a little too much but he couldn’t help it. “Liked what you saw the other day, sweetheart? Couldn’t stay away?”

“Well, you were conducting your very own investigation.” she teased. “It seemed only fair I enquired in kind.”

“How do you…” he frowned.

“People talk.” she dismissed. “And you are quite handsome despite your rude cat. I was interested anyway.”

The way she said that scared him a little.

She didn’t say it as if she intended this to be just a fun night. She said it as if she intended to have fun nights quite a few number of time in the near future and maybe some serious stuff in between the fun too.

He wasn’t sure he was up for that…

Of course, it was the moment Buttercup jumped from the bed directly on his stomach, leaving claw marks on his already scarred side, and sauntered away with his tail high, hissing for no particular reason.

“I think the cat has a crush on you, sweetheart.” he scowled, glaring at the retreating butt of the animal.

“Poor thing.” she laughed and then she got busy kissing up the side of his neck. He guided her leg more firmly over his hips so she was almost straddling him…

“He’s a fragile cat, you know.” he commented casually, running his palm up and down her thigh. “Looks all tough but… He’s been hurt pretty bad before. Made him a bit wild. Ain’t quite sure he’d known how to be tamed.”

“Some untamed animals can be very loyal pets.” she retorted, letting her lips travel to his collarbone. Her tongue found a small scare there and retraced its length. “It takes time to win anyone’s trust. I am quite… fond of him too, for what it’s worth. Despite our short acquaintance.”

How she could talk so fancy when she was doing unspeakable thing to his nipple – sucking and licking and… – he didn’t know.

“Just… Don’t toy with the cat’s feelings, yeah?” he insisted, guiding her head up to capture her mouth in a violent kiss.

“Never.” she promised, her hand wandering down his side only hesitate on the big swollen scar. She kept her eyes averted and her voice sounded more fragile than he had ever heard it. “But I hope he won’t play with mine either.”

“That’s not his style.” he snorted, brushing his fingers along the length of her spine. “He’s more into collecting your panties.”

“What a naughty cat.” she chuckled. “Is his owner just as naughty?”

He rolled them over and started kissing his way down her stomach, intending to show her just how naughty he could be.

#hayffie #effie trinket #haymitch abernathy #prompt #thg modern au #1st meeting #hayffie pets #fighting hayffie #crack #teapot #HBIC effie #not established

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