#katniss: you need to rest - i’ll take care of that

[mollywog]

I picture the Victors of District 12 as the found family where each assumes they’re the most responsible of the trio

[allisluv]

for totally appropriate and pg reasons....I imagine finnick having reader suck on his fingers when she's too loud..so pg..

flattery will get you nowhere.

pairing: finnick o'dair x wife!reader

content warnings: pre-established relationship, brief mentions of the war, found family trope, nsfw, finnick is such a tease, praise kink, risk of being caught but not really at the same time, petnames, use of the phrase "good girl", finnick has reader suck on his fingers to stay quiet, soft!dom finnick.

word count: 1k

To commemorate the first year since the war ended, Peeta and Katniss invite you, Finnick and the rest of your friend group over for dinner at their new house on the coast. 

Finnick comes out of the bathroom with the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to his elbows. The smell of cologne wafts into the bedroom as he runs a hand through his golden curls. “I’m ready to go if you—” He cuts himself off when he sees you. 

You’re wearing a white dress that stops right above your knees. A golden pendant with Finnick’s initials is draped around your neck. Youre slipping a pair of matching dangly earrings into your lobes when your husband’s voice cuts through the air. You make eye contact with him through the reflection in the mirror and smile. “Hey.” 

Finnick grins and two dimples carve their way into the spot above his lips. He steps up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him. “Jesus Christ, woman, I swear you’re trying to kill me before we even leave the house.”

You laugh as he presses feather-light kisses along the slender column of your throat. “Oi. We can’t be late. Effie will have my head on a platter if I’m not there on time.” 

Finnick groans and buries his face into the crook of your neck. His fingers trail down the length of your arms. “Do we have to go, angel? Can’t we just stay here?” 

You roll your eyes upwards, but you can feel a hot heat pooling between your thighs. Your voice holds a warning tone as you say, “Finn.” 

He drops his voice an octave, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “You know that I would make it worth your while, hm?” 

You weigh up the options in your head. On the one hand, you want nothing more than to stay here and have him take care of you like you desperately need but you know you can’t. “We can’t let them down.”

“Why not?” He kisses the sweet spot behind your ear and grins when you melt into him. 

Fucking smug bastard. 

“Because Katniss and Peeta are expecting us. And it is rude to let them down.” You argue. “I know we’re staying the night but surely you can have some self- control for less than twenty-four hours.”

Finnick pouts. “But you look so pretty in that dress, baby.” 

You roll your eyes, but can’t help the small smile that tugs at the corners of your lips. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

Finnick grins. “That’s not what you said the other night when—”

“Oi!”

He laughs. “Alright, I’ll keep my hands to myself… for now.” He presses a quick kiss to your cheek and pulls away before taking you by the hand and interlacing your fingers together. “C’mon. Let’s get going.”

Finnick keeps his hand on your thigh all the way from your house to Katniss and Peeta’s. His fingers every so often trail higher, tracing the lining of your underwear innocently before his hand goes back to your thigh and his eyes back to the road.

It’s warm inside of Katniss and Peeta’s house. Annie, Johanna, Beetee, Haymitch and Effie are already at the dinner table as Finnick leads you over to an empty seat, where he sits you down and settles down beside you. His hand falls back to your thigh. 

Dinner passes smoothly. Everyone talks and drinks wine or water and by the time dessert is served, your stomachs are fit to burst. The conversations pass well into the early evening, and eventually, when the tiredness sets in, every one starts to retreat to the guest bedrooms. 

You’re on edge by the time you and Finnick head back to the bedroom. Once the door is locked behind you, you spin on your heel to face him.

Finnick grins. “What’s wrong, angel? You look flushed.” His voice holds mock sympathy and you can tell that he is holding back a laugh. 

“You’re such a dick.” You hiss out, folding your arms over your chest. 

Finnick does laugh this time. “Huh? What’re you talking about, angel?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, mister. What was that, hm? Sliding your hand up my thigh when we were eating our dinner, whispering dirty things in my ear, sitting me in your lap when we were on the sofa?” 

Finnick grins like the cocky bastard he is. 

You glare at him, cheeks burning. “Well?”

“Well, what, baby?”

“You gonna fuck me or what?”

Finnick tsks his tongue but obliges by crossing the room in a few quick strides and guiding you to sit down on the edge of the bed. “So needy,” he chastises. 

“Don’t test me, Finn,” You huff. 

He cuts you off by slotting his lips over your own and swallowing your moans. His hands slip up the hem of your dress, bunching the fabric up over your hips as he makes quick work of ridding yourself of your underwear. He groans into your mouth and his fingers slip under the thin material. “You’re soaked, angel. Can I take these off?” 

You nod but he cocks his head to one side with an arched brow, silently telling you that he wants to hear you say it. You roll your eyes. “Yeah. Take them off.”

Usually, he would make you beg for it or give out to you for being bratty, but if the bulge in his pants is anything to go by, he’s just as needy as you are, if not more. 

He pulls your panties down your legs and tosses them to one side carelessly. Slipping his tongue into your mouth once more, he runs his fingers through your folds and he groans. “You really are trying to kill me.”

You moan. “Please.” 

Finnick shushes you gently. “Need you to be quiet, f’me, angel. Think you can do that?” His thumb finds your clit and you whimper. Clicking his tongue disapprovingly, he lifts the same hand and coaxes your lips apart so that you are taking his thumb. He smiles as you suck on his thumb, using his other hand to gather your wetness and increase the pressure and pace of his fingers. “There you are. There’s my good girl. I’m gonna fuck you soon, but you have to show me you’re gonna stay quiet, got it?”

[physalian]

The Hero with Dead Parents is not Cliché, it’s Necessary

The staggering number of protagonists in sci-fi and fantasy with dead parents grows every single year. Frodo Baggins, Harry Potter, Luke Skywalker (before the retcon in ESB), almost every Disney Prince and Princess, the Baudelaire children. Beyond the realm of fantasy into action, thriller, romance, mystery, slice-of-life, and bildungsromans.

Dead parents, or parent, is the curse of being the hero of the story and for a very good reason:

Parents are inconvenient as f*ck.

Unless the mom and/or dad is the villain of the story or the entire story is about the relationship with the parent/parents, the “dead parent” trope serves many purposes and while it may be “cliché” that doesn’t mean this trope is bad or, in my opinion, overused.

It’s one less liability the hero has to worry about protecting

It’s one less obstacle in the hero’s path to their adventure

It’s one (or two) less characters to find excuses to stay relevant in the story

It’s a juicy backstory a lot of people can relate to

Trauma. Is. Compelling.

It’s an excellent motivation

And their murder is an excellent inciting incident

Living parents and guardians get killed off both for internal plot reasons, and meta writing reasons: Living parents are a pain in the ass to keep up with. You’re stuck with a character your hero should still keep caring about, keep thinking about, keep acting in relation to how their actions will be seen and judged by that parent. That parent becomes an obvious liability by any villain who notices or cares.

Living parents can of course be done well, unless they’re the villain, but they just kind of sit there on the fringes of the plot, waiting around to be relevant again and they kind of come in four flavors:

There when the plot demands for pie and forehead kisses (Sally from Percy Jackson)

A suffocating but well-meaning obstacle in between the character and their independence trying to do right (Abby from The 100, Katniss’ mom from Hunger Games, Spirit from Soul Eater)

A mentor figure (Valka from HTTYD 2, Hakoda from ATLA)

The only rock this character has left (Ping from Kung Fu Panda)

*Notice how many of my examples lost their partners shortly before or during the plot, thus still giving the hero the “dead parent” label.

Most of these are self-explanatory so I’ll say this:  I think this trope gets exhausting when the parents are written out without enough emotional impact on the hero. These are their parents and a lot of the time, the emotional toll of losing them isn’t there, like just slapping a “dead parents” sticker is all you need to justify a character’s tragic backstory and any behavioral issues they might have.

Like, yes, the hero has dead parents, but you still have to tell me what that means to them beyond obligate angst and sadness. When the “dead parents” trope reads as very by-the-numbers, usually the rest of the story is, too.

How present the parents were in the character’s life should be proportional to the death’s impact on the narrative (as with any character you kill off). If they were virtually nonexistent? No need to waste a ton of time. If they didn’t matter to the character before, they don’t need to matter now unless the plot revolves around some knowledge or secret their parent never shared.

Sometimes, the hero’s dead parents are a non issue. Frodo being raised by Bilbo doesn’t impact his character at all. It’s a detail given and tossed away. On the other hand, sometimes the entire centerpiece of the work is revenge/justice/catharsis surrounding the parent’s death—Edward and Alphonse Elric’s entire story is defined by the consequences of trying to bring their mother back from the dead.

As someone who kept one of my protagonist’s parents alive and didn’t make them villains just to spite the trope, I have all the more respect for this enduring legacy of fiction. You can of course keep the parents alive, but I don't think it's seen as lazy or cheating or taking a shortcut just killing them off, so long as you remember that your hero is human and should react to losing them like a real person.

[charlunday]

You can't escape me that easily, coward!!

All the screenshots below are from @districtfourmermaid

[I'll be putting my responses in color for clarity]

#1: Firstly, your use of the word "romance" shows just how severely you misunderstood the relationships in the book. I recently delivered a presentation on "Love & Rebellion & Why People Hate The Hunger Games," in which I used a quote from Nina Jacobson. She says, "If you believe that people are fundamentally good—or capable of choosing to be good—then you’ll be more drawn to a model of governance that protects people’s rights, liberties, and independent thinking." In many of your posts, you reference Katniss being a badass woman who don't need no man. You take the rebellion at face value. I can guarantee you you'd eat up Plutarch's fire and fury propos. But you're a Gale kinnie, so that's understandable. However, if you read the book, you'd understand that the heart of any rebellion is love. Doesn't matter what kind, just love. Viewing the love triangle as a marketing tactic only flaunts your inability for complex thinking and your fiercely dated millennial feminism.

#2: This part is just.... an unbelievably shallow read. I have nothing else to say, so I will let Suzanne do the talking for me.

"No one has held me like this in such a long time. Since my father died and I stopped trusting my mother, no one else's arms have made me feel this safe." THG, chapter 22.

"This is the first kiss where I actually feel stirring inside my chest. Warm and curious. This is the first kiss that makes me want another." THG, chapter 22.

“If he dies, I’ll never go home, not really. I’ll spend the rest of my life in this arena trying to think my way out.” THG, chapter 25.

"Already the boy with the bread is slipping away from me. I take his hand, holding on tightly, preparing for the cameras, and dreading the moment when I will finally have to let go." THG, chapter 27.

#3: I love how in this paragraph you completely out how self-centered you are. Because you don't want children (which is fine, btw), you automatically feel entitled to Katniss' story and her ending. I've seen you refer to her love story as "comphet" before, which only enforces my belief that that word should be taken away from people who never passed 8th grade English. At the beginning of the series, Katniss says she's never having kids. This comes from living in a world that is unsafe, a world she would never want to subject a child to. Meanwhile, throughout the series, we see Katniss act as an incredibly nurturing figure. She cares for Prim, for Rue, for Posy, and shows sympathy even for Capitol children. In the epilogue, her ability to have children is representative of the safety she feels in this new world. She even dreams about this world in Catching Fire while directly referencing Peeta.

I understand I'm not going to change your mind. You blocked me. Your idea of feminism is Francis Lawrence's big boom boom action movie. Hell yes girl power. If you looked past your idea of "comphet" and "heteronormativity," you would see a book and a relationship that revolutionized hetero gender roles in the late 2000s YA scene. Unfortunately, you fail to see that because you are blinded by your need to project onto a character.

Anyway, have fun repeating 6th grade until you're 50. I hope you get more than 30 notes on a post one day. Actually, I don't.

[d4yl1ghts]

i’ve got you

finnick odair x fem!reader

summary: you go with finnick to help katniss and the mockingjay squad but you begin to regret it as you realise you could lose the one thing keeping you grounded

warnings: mention of death, panic attack

-

You placed your backpack down before you sat down as you felt the cool metal through your hands. The rigid material was not comfortable but it would have to do. You supposed this was what one could expect if they were to aid the rebellion. Rustling through your bag, you heard sos,one plop down beside you. You turned around and saw your boyfriend, Finnick, who smiled at you cutely. His dimples were creased and his eyes were glistening in the low-lighting of the underground and you couldn’t help but stare. He wasn’t called the ‘Capitol darling’ for no reason.

You waved at him like a child who didn’t know they were in a war. He let out a low chuckle. “How are you feeling, baby?”, he gently asked you. “Tired.”, you muttered quietly as you rested your head against his shoulder which was conveniently padded with his uniform. “Me too.”, he yawned to emphasise his point. “Are you ready for tomorrow?”, he questioned as he looked down at you, careful not to move his shoulder. “Not really.”, you mumbled into his shoulder. “Will I have to give you a piggyback around?”, he joked teasingly. “Yeah, I’d love that actually. Can we just do that every day from now on?”, you said playfully. “No. I need to keep my muscles fresh. Sorry!”, he stated confidently. “What muscles?”, you asked as you squeezed his massive bicep. He laughed. “I’m joking, they’re huge.”, you stated.

He smirked down at you in victory. You loved his biceps and he knew that.

You glanced up at him before asking, in a softer tone: “What if I lose you?”

“Hmm?”, he mumbled, not hearing you. “What if I lose you or you lose me?”, you questioned cautiously. “I won’t lose you, I’ll protect you. Darling, you’re my number one priority.”, he said, not elaborating on the first part. “What if I lose you?”, you repeated, more clearly this time. “You won’t lose me. Why would you?”, he reciprocated. “Finn, I can’t lose you. I couldn’t live with out you. You’re the only reason I’m still here, Finnick.”, your breathing picked up as you imagined a life with out him.

“You won’t lose me.”, he repeated with certainty in his tone. “You’ll probably pull out some stupid hero move. Finnick, you can’t risk it because that’s just selfish, okay?!”, you questioned in one breath. Your vision had started to get blurry and your heart rate had picked up. He looked down at you and noticed your state. He moved in front of you. “Baby.”, he cupped your cheeks. “You won’t lose me, okay? I won’t leave you. I would never do that to you.”, he replied to your worries. “Okay.”, you answered, trying to focus on your laboured breathing.

“Follow my breathing, baby.”, he guided you, telling you to “breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth.”

“I’ve got you, baby girl.”, he added as he took your hands into his. You gazed into his sea-green eyes as you kissed his slightly chapped lips. He’d usually have chapped lips, it was one of the side effects of living by the beach. You took in his scent: a mixture of freeing sand and captivating cologne. He instantly kissed you back, loving the feeling of your lips against each others. Your lips were moulded for each other. You were now out of breath for a completely different reason to before.

Finnick had his hands placed softly around your waist whilst yours laid happily in his hair. You sighed contentedly into the kiss as you gently ruffled his fluffy hair. You felt his lips curl upwards against yours, causing yours to do the same. After a long minute, you had to pull away to take in some oxygen but it was a lasting kiss.

Finnick pecked your forehead as he hoisted you onto his lap. “We need to get some sleep, baby girl.”, he mumbled into your hair as you made yourself comfortable on his legs. “I love you to the bottom of the ocean and from the depth of my heart.”, he stated charmingly. “I love you, Finn, so much.”, you pulled him as close to yourself as you could.

[avoxrising]

The Feral One • Ch 22

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

A short but important chapter tonight!

Content Warnings - None

You jolt awake as the truck comes to a stop. It seems to be evening, meaning the hovercraft ride and drive took the whole day.

Peeta is let out of his truck first. You can’t see where they are taking him but he’s muttering things to himself and looks scared. A soldier opens your door and you are instructed to follow.

Getting out, you finally see who you and Peeta are joining. Gathered around Boggs are Katniss, Finnick, and a few other soldiers from District 13. They are sending you into battle.

Boggs and the others seem shocked by the two new arrivals and Boggs quickly cuffs Peeta, explaining to him that it’s just a precaution until he can get the situation figured out. You hold out your hands to him but he shakes his head. He wasn’t going to cuff you.

Boggs returns to the group and explains that Coin wants you and Peeta in the propos. Finnick explains to you both that your squad isn’t on the front lines, they’re just there to film propos and look cool. Boggs then explains the holo and pods and how we still need to be careful.

Finally, the group grows tense as they debate who will take watch and when. Your head hurts too much to listen so you make your way over to the wall and sit down.

“Are you feeling alright?” Finnick asks you, noticing your sluggish movements.

“Headache,” you mutter.

“How about you get some rest,” Finnick suggests, handing over his sleeping bag to you. “I’ll wake you when it’s time for dinner.”

You wake up screaming an hour later, sweat dripping down your forehead.

“Hey hey it’s ok,” Finnick states as he tries to calm you down. One of the soldiers makes a comment about how the screaming may reveal our location but he is quickly shut up by a glare from Finnick.

“Bad dream?” he asks you.

“Tick tock,” you mutter. “The clock… it… I need to talk to Peeta now.”

Finnick worriedly nods and goes to get Peeta. He comes back and is prepared to stay for your conversation but the look you give him tells him it’s a private convo so he leaves.

“Peeta?” you ask the boy, and maybe your only companion in this situation. “What’s happening to me?”

“I don’t know,” he responds. “What was your dream about?”

“Clocks,” you say, making Peeta freeze.

“They need to send you back to 13 now,” he states. “It’s not safe for you here. We need to go back!”

Peeta’s outburst garners the attention of the group, causing Boggs and Finnick to rush over.

“She can’t be here,” Peeta tells them. “All her progress is going away the longer she’s here. We can’t stop it. It’s too late. We need to get her out before it gets worse.”

“I can have a medic come check her out but unless it’s a medical emergency I’m afraid she can’t be evacuated,” Boggs states. “Soldier Y/L/N are you feeling alright?”

“Headache,” you mumble.

“If it gets worse I’ll call in medical,” Boggs states. “Until then I’m ordering you to rest. Soldier Odair, I’ll take you out of the rotation tonight so you can monitor her.”

Dinner comes and you are starving. You eat all of your food and some of Finnick’s too. The headache is still there but you’re starting to manage.

After dinner you curl up next to Finnick in your own sleeping bag. You won’t let him touch you but you’ve instructed him to sedate you if you start screaming again. Sleep comes too easily for you.

Tick tock

Tick tock

A poisonous fog crawls back into your mind as your head screams in pain. Your arms are on fire as the sound intensifies.

Tick tock!

Tick tock!

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[ilguna]

☼ drowning in love (Johanna Mason) ☼

summary; you promised Johanna you'd support her with anything she needed when she came back from the Capitol.

warnings; swearing, they shower together, torture mention.

wc; 1.6k

–

“I’ve changed my mind.” Johanna says, you tilt your head at her, unamused.

The two of you are currently inside of, what must be, the smallest bathroom you’ve ever seen. You thought that when the medical team of Thirteen said they had a private bathroom, they meant something bigger. You weren’t expecting it to be the same size as the bathrooms in the Capitol, but at least half that. It isn’t, though. Everything in here has been crammed to ensure that every inch of space is used.

Johanna’s sitting on the toilet lid, hunched over in her towel, arms wrapped around her abdomen to make herself smaller. You’re standing directly in front of her, your kneecaps touching hers because there is nowhere else to stand in here. You’re lucky that there’s even enough room for the two of you to shower together in the first place.

“Babe, that’s what you said ten minutes ago, you can’t keep changing your mind.”

She shakes her head, staring at the floor, “I’m not ready.”

“You’re going to have to do it either way.” You tell her, “If you don’t do it with me, then the nurses will do it, and they don’t really care about your feelings.”

She meets your eyes, “They’ll sedate me.”

“And then you miss out on an opportunity to start the process of healing. You can’t keep pushing it back. What will you do when the rebellion’s over and we’re no longer in Thirteen? There won’t be anyone to sedate you.” You raise your eyebrows.

“You will, if I put up a big enough fight.” She says, you think you can see a smile hinting at the corners of her lips. She’s not entirely joking, though. She knows that you don’t like seeing her in pain.

“You’ll be okay, I’ll be right here.”

“Except, I don’t want to go in there alone. What if—what if I have an episode?” She asks, you watch her shudder.

“Do you want me to go in with you?” You ask, “You know I will.”

“What if I attack you? Like Peeta did to Katniss?” 

“You won’t. They didn’t use tracker jacker venom on you.” You say, “And the doctors would’ve caught it by now.”

Johanna begins to bite on her bottom lip, face contorting while she thinks. She knows you’re right, but she doesn’t want to admit it. She just wants to find a way out to avoid having to face the water. And you understand why, the issue is that you won’t be putting up with sponge baths for the rest of your life. 

Her eyes dart to the door momentarily, possibly planning an escape. She won’t make it far, not with you standing in front of it. She wouldn’t be able to pull it open before you have her on her ass again.

“Johanna, the water can’t hurt you.” You slide down the wall, taking her hands in yours, “You know you’ll have control in there. You’ll be able to move the shower head off to the side if you can’t handle it, and change the temperature if it’s too close to what they used in the Capitol.”

She presses her lips together, “I don’t want to freak out, (Y/n).”

“You won’t. I’ll get in there with you. You’ll be safe with me in there, you know I would never let anything happen to you, not when I’m right there.” You squeeze her hands.

She nods.

“It’s only a few minutes, we’re just getting your body washed. You’ll feel so much better once the grime is gone, and you’re washing away their touch.”

“Okay.” Johanna breathes.

“Okay.” You echo, letting go of her hands as you get back to your feet. 

You slide the glass door open, leaning in to turn the shower on. You can feel her hands grip around your wrist when the water starts. And without you even saying anything, she begins to take deep breaths in through her nose, and exhales through her mouth. A technique she was taught by the head doctor, it looks like she’s paying attention after all.

You guide her hand to the water slowly so she can feel the temperature, adjusting it the way she tells you to. She goes on the hotter side, staying away from the warm to cold range. You’ll have to keep that in mind for the future.

“Alright,” You hold your hand out to her.

“Can you go in first?” She asks.

“Johanna, if you run out of the bathroom, I’m going to be pissed.” You tell her.

“I won’t. You’ll be closer to the water.” She says, “Please?”

You watch her for a couple of seconds, gauging whether or not she’s telling the truth, and find that she is. You pull your hair up, figuring that you’d rather accidentally get the ends wet than your whole head. You then take off District Thirteen’s jumpsuit, and the underwear underneath.

You keep a hand on Johanna when you open the glass door, backing inside a few steps. This forces her to her feet, where she uses a shaky hand to release the towel, letting it fall to the floor.

“It’s only a couple of minutes.” You remind her, “One step at a time.”

“I know.” She breathes, “I don’t think I can get my face wet.” 

“How about we do your collarbones and down?” You ask, “Does that sound okay?”

She hums in agreement, coming into the shower. She slides the door shut behind her, and you watch her begin to take deeper breaths. You reach back to feel how close the water is, and find it only an inch further back.

“How do you want to do this?” You ask her, “You have to face the water.”

“Just my back right now.” She closes her eyes.

You move her around, slowly backing her into the water, watching as her face twists at the anticipation. When it begins to rain down on her back, she jumps slightly, a shudder running through her body. You can see the goosebumps rise on her arms.

You step closer, placing your hands on her hips, watching her face. She’s got her eyes closed, trying to focus on not freaking out. She moves slightly to allow the water on her shoulders and down her sides.

“Do you think I’ll be better by the end of the rebellion?” She asks.

“If we keep working on it, it’ll be a step in the right direction.” You tell her, “It won’t happen overnight Johanna, as much as I know you wish it would.”

“I wish he’d chosen something else.” She mutters, eyebrows drawing in, “The District borders will finally be down and we won’t even be able to see the ocean. Finnick makes me so jealous when he talks about how beautiful the beach is. And all we’ve got are fuckin’ trees.” 

“That’ll be our goal, then.” You say, she opens her eyes, “To go visit Annie and Finnick on the beach.”

“That could take years, (Y/n).” She says.

“Good thing we’re gonna live for a while.” You smile, she lets out a laugh, “Ready to turn around?”

She nods, you let go of her hips, allowing her to turn around to face the water. She lets out a breath, hesitating.

“I didn’t take you as a beach person.” You say, hoping it’ll take her mind off of the shower water, and instead put her somewhere else. She doesn’t move for a second, before stepping forward. You place your hands on her hips again.

“Yeah, well, neither did I. Finnick talks about the summers there, how he and his family would jump off the docks as kids. The water is cold and refreshing. The sand is warm, and sometimes too hot to walk on with bare feet.” She murmurs, reaching over to grab the bar of soap on the shelf, you smile slightly. “They build sandcastles and play games. It’s like a picnic we have at home, but on the beach. And the best part is the sunsets apparently.”

“I think Finnick just wants us to move there.” You laugh.

“Probably.” She agrees, “I wouldn’t mind, Annie and Finnick are our best friends. It’d be nice to be close to torture them often.”

“I’m sure it’s an option.” You say, “Even if you’re not ready to see the water, I’m sure they have houses away from the water.”

She pauses, “You’d move there with me?”

“Where else would I go?” You laugh, “Do you think I’d stay in Seven?”

“Well, no.” She says, carefully rubbing the soap over her skin. It’s still tender from the scabs that have recently fallen off. “I just thought you’d be more against it.”

“We’ve lived in Seven our whole lives, I’m sure it’ll be okay if we move somewhere new for a while.” You tell her.

“That’s true.”

You lather her back in soap, so it’s less effort for her. She rinses the scentless bubbles down the drain, and then steps out to dry herself off. You get rid of the soap that she’d accidentally gotten on you, before shutting the water off.

When you step out, you’re able to see Johanna wiping her eyes, sniffing. She looks at your briefly, eyes already turning red.

“Hey,” You pull the spare towel around your body, before pulling her into a hug. She wraps her arms around you, letting out a sob. “It was so easy, you didn’t even think about it.”

“I know.” She places her forehead on your shoulder, “I know, I’m afraid it won’t be like this every time.”

“It can be, though.” You press a kiss to her cheek, squeezing her tighter, “And I’ll be here with you the entire time, I promise.”

[msmk11]

A Tiny Favor

Katniss Everdeen x gn!reader

WC: 683

CW: Katniss has a panic attack; hurt comfort; fluff

Summary: You try to help Katniss in any way you can, even if it means pretending that you’re the one that needs help. (Could be read as platonic or romantic.)

Day 13 of mk’s mad dash

You thought that when District Thirteen said everyone got recreational time, you’d actually get the rest your body craved. Instead, your afternoon was rather rudely interrupted by loud knocks on the door of your compartment. You were tempted to ignore it, but they remained incessant, and you knew you’d never go back to sleep with all the ruckus. You crawled out of bed and padded across the cold floor before yanking the door open.

“Can I help y- oh, Prim. What is it? What’s wrong?”

The blonde stood before you in her nurse uniform, “It’s Katniss. She’s sort of freaking out and no one can calm her down. We’re trying to wean her off tranquilizers and I thought you might be able to help.”

“Yes, of course, Prim. Just- give me a minute.”

You left the door open and walked back across the room. You slipped on your boring gray gym shoes and then raked your fingers through your sort of messy bedhead.

“Alright, Prim. Let’s go.”

Your walk to the hospital was not an unfamiliar one, having visited Katniss nearly every day since she’d taken residence there. Still, you’d never been personally requested to visit out of visitation hours just to help. It felt good, being useful for once. You had the feeling Coin didn’t like you much, only seeing you as an extra mouth to feed and another of the Mockingjay’s stipulations.

When you arrived in the sterile, white hospital, you instantly found Katniss in her bed, hyperventilating, panicked doctors surrounding her.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath, “what a bunch of idiots.”

You stalked over to the staff who were staring worriedly at Katniss, “all of you, scram.”

“We need to supervise her,” some douche doctor huffed cockily.

“You’re only making things worse,” you hissed, “I’ll take care of it. Now leave her alone.”

If your words didn’t convince them, the glare you gave certainly did, and they all skittered off. You rushed to sit at the edge of Katniss’ bed, and watched the girl’s wild eyes flit about and her panicked breathing increase.

You reached out carefully and gripped one of her hands loosely, giving it a gentle squeeze, “Katniss? Hey, Katniss.”

The brunette was still obviously freaking out, but you could tell she heard you somewhere in her anxious haze.

You placed your hands gently on her cheeks, trying to focus her attention on you, “Katniss, love. Can you focus on me? I needed to see you.”

Her glazed eyes shifted into focus, though she continued to pant, “When did you get here?”

“Just now. I came to find you cause I needed your help.”

You stroked some wild strands of hair back from her face, hoping that your touch would calm her a little.

“My-my help? With what? I can’t do anything?” she sighed sadly.

“Well I do have something you can help with. If you’re feeling up to it?”

Katniss’ breaths began to slow a little and she nodded. If you knew nothing else about the girl you’d grown up with, you at least knew that she always thrived the most when she had a purpose.

“Could you braid my hair for me? The way your mom always does. I’m gonna start my work shift soon and my hair always gets in the way,” you huffed with feigned annoyance.

“Yeah, I can do that for you,” she answered quietly, her voice shaking a little.

“Lovely,” you climbed all the way onto Katniss’ bed and took residence on top of the covers, between her spread legs. You crossed your own legs under you and rested your hands in your lap.

Hesitantly, the brunette reached out and buried her fingers in your hair.

“I’m warning you now, this won’t be half as good as when my mom does it.”

“That’s alright,” you answered with a chuckle, “it’s bound to get messed up at work anyways.”

After that, you fell into a comfortable silence, the only sound the small swooshes of Katniss’ fingers as she crafted your hair into a beautiful braid. And for once, everything felt simple again.

[adsosfraser]

turn into dust

everlark one shot, set between the hunger games and catching fire

peeta helps take care of katniss when she arrives at his door one afternoon

wc: 1766

My hands roughly knead the dough on my kitchen island. I can’t stop the shaking in my arms as I repeat the motions that are etched into the very memory of my muscles. Each thwack I aim towards the pliable dough fails to banish the images echoing through my mind. They’ve been sitting there, waiting with a grin to see the final moment I’ll be sent over the edge.

Her grey eyes pierce straight through my chest, like the deadly sharp edges of one of her arrows. Just as my hands are an extension of myself, her bow is part of her very spirit as well. But her fierce eyes drown in the mist surrounding her; it’s choking her essence and scattering it into nothing. Cato grins madly as his hands turn her into crumbling dust the same colour of her eyes. My hands reach for her, desperate beyond belief. Life without my songbird is unthinkable. I punch the dough hard, and watch as my hand flies straight through the boy from District 2. I gasp, ridding myself of the nightmare that still crawls beneath my skin, demanding my undivided attention.

At the knock at the door, my head whips from my abused and sad-looking dough to the front of my house. I can’t see anything through the thick half-circle set in the sturdy oak door except for the slight shadow of movement. My brows pull together in confusion as I grab the hand towel strung up by the oven and wipe down the sweat from my forehead and flake off pieces of dough into the sink. The pieces rooted deep underneath the beds of my fingernails are a lost cause and I don’t bother as the knocking becomes more insistent.

I never get visitors. And none nearly this frantic in demanding I show my presence.

Well, except Prim. But I know she and her mother will be gone for a long while attending a birth in the Seam. They’ll be back if at least not late at night tonight, then early tomorrow morning.

I pull the door open with a polite smile I force on my face and a pleasant “hello” on my lips. I’m sure none of these niceties matter with the state I’m in. Crazed eyes with deep purple skin sagging under them and nails chewed to the quick and sometimes even further than that from nerves and nightmares.

My heart drops at the girl in front of me. I take a gulp and stab my fingers into the flesh of my palms to determine if the sight is real or the start of another dream.

Is it really already noon? The sun high in the sky tells me yes. And she’s always back by now on Sundays after hunting with Gale.

Her grey eyes dart to every single inch of the inside of my house they can see. They land on the vase full of dandelions on a side table near the entrance, then the towel flung across my shoulder, my hands, the clock above my head, and the rug under my bare feet. Foot.

She chews her lip, which already seems to have bled from the habit.

Finally, her eyes dart to mine and hold steady. I let out a sharp breath as my heart thuds faster and faster, like the wheels of the train as it began the start of its journey.

“Hi Katniss.” They’re the first words I’ve spoken to her in a month and three days.

Her eyes break our stare and dart back to my shoulder. Safe.

A dark shade of rose paints her cheeks and she worries her lip even more, pulling a successful strip of skin away.

“Um,” she pauses. “Hi.”

“Did you need anything Katniss?”

Her hands reach towards where her braid normally rests but pull away at its absence. The usual braid is unbound and wound up on top of her head into a clean towel. She’s in a fresh pair of her grey sleep shorts that reach midthigh and in a rich green tank top she normally uses as an undershirt. I’m surprised to even see the white sandals hugging her feet, somehow imagining her as a beautiful creature of the woods, barefoot with grass and flowers growing up underneath her. Reaching into the small pockets of the stretchy fabric of her shorts, she brings out a piece of metal smaller than her finger.

“Yes. Sorry Peeta.”

Her eyes are clear as they look back into mine. I push the hope that swells in my chest that she’s speaking about more than just the current situation, but her eyes express more.

“No need to apologise Katniss. I’m always happy to help.” You.

I grab the tweezers from her hand and move aside to let her into my house for the first time. Her wide eyes take in the foyer and the sturdy oak bones of the house. I guide her into the kitchen and brush her shoulder so she sits down on one of the stools at the counter.

She turns her back to me and shoves the tails of the towel from her back over her right shoulder. She tugs the back of her tank top down further to expose more of the skin on her back. I see it immediately and frown.

I want to burn it alive for harming even a hair on her body.

“It didn’t come off in the shower. Can you get it? I can’t reach it.”

The tick is embedded in the centre of her back between the bottom of her shoulder blades. I look closer. It doesn’t appear to have sunk onto her for long to be engorged by blood, but long enough that it clings to her. Maybe since she headed out into the woods this morning.

“Did Gale not want to help you?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask him.” She looks back at me; a sad look passes across her eyes. Now I feel bad bringing him up. She probably misses him and he just had other things to do today to provide for his family. They only truly have one day to be together. “Do you not want to?”

“Of course I do. I just thought your boyfriend would be your first choice to do this instead of walking all twenty yards to a different house.”

“He’s my friend.”

A silence fills the room, heavy with all that’s unsaid between us.

“Hold on just a moment.”

I limp with heavy footsteps to the bathroom on the first floor of the house. The prosthetic is helpful, but it still feels like hell to have the tender and still healing part of the end of my leg constantly pressing down and rubbing against it, and to be reminded of what I’ll never have again.

I putter around in the bathroom cabinets until I finally find where the first-aid bin is shoved into a far corner. I come back to Katniss looking at the small lump of dough on the counter, her fingers inches away from it. I smile at the thought of her being tempted to touch the soft and squishy piece of dough to feel what bread is like before it's touched by fire.

She doesn’t startle when I come up close to her back again. I know my clomping footsteps are like land mines to her, the girl who sprung from the forest. I reach around her shoulder to set the bin of first aid supplies on the counter and place the small bandage, antibiotic ointment, and alcohol wipes near it so they’re ready to use.

With the slow and steady hand that I reserve for painting the delicate details of the cakes at the bakery, I lean forward with the tweezers and squat so I’m eye level with the bastard that stuck itself to Katniss. In under five seconds, I have it squirming between the tweezers and plop it into a small empty jar. Some skin pulled off with it as well and I restrain myself from kissing the spot on her back.

I quickly disinfect the area with the alcohol and put a little dash of ointment on it, smearing it with my finger.

She sighs at my light touch. I feel her tremble but continue on with my task.

Next, I peel back the layers of the bandage and stick it to her skin as straight as possible so it doesn’t clump up and fall.

“Can I look through your hair for any more?”

She nods.

“Mmhmm.” Her voice shakes.

I wonder when the last time was when anyone showed her this kind of care.

She pulls apart the contraption on her head and lets her damp waves fall against her back. I carefully bring my hands up to comb through them. It’s silky and smooth with the trace of conditioner still in her hair. It calms me in a way and I can tell she also enjoys the way I lightly scrape through her scalp with the pads of my fingers when her head tilts back closer to me with relaxed eyes.

“If you want, I can bring over some of the cheese buns I’m making. I saw you looking at the dough earlier.”

Her eyes open to look back at me upside down. I continue to look at her hairline and move strands of hair this way and that to get a better view.

“Cheese buns?”

“Yeah, they’re delicious. I’m sure you’ll love them too.”

“Okay.” She nods, closing her eyes again so I can continue.

A soft moan escapes her and my hands softly brush back the hair by her right ear to check for any ticks behind it. It doesn’t mean anything. She just needs a human touch. A friend. After everything she’s been through. And I was the closest warm body she could think of who wouldn’t deny her. I never would.

I lightly push her head forehead so I can check behind her neck as well and I’m glad that I see none. She frowns when I pull away. Sitting up straight, she clears her throat and brushes off her legs.

“You’re all good.”

Her eyes are watery as she squeezes my hand. “Thank you Peeta.”

With the lingering heat of her body and the smell of strawberries, vanilla, and sunshine from her soap, I light a match in the loneliness of my kitchen, her presence lingering long after she slipped away uncertainly back to her house. I watch the tick writhe and struggle under the heat to turn into dust.

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Wrapped In Red prompt:

Peeta buys Katniss another set of sexy red stockings for Christmas, along with a matching red jeweled butt plug 🔌

An entire stocking full of coal for you, Anon. Absolutely stuffed with naughtiness. Disclaimer: I adjust prompts as I think fits the characters in the story. Hope you enjoy your raunchiness anyways, Anon. RATED E below the cut.

**

“I’ve been behind all day,” I mutter to Peeta as I practically storm into the house. I’m late getting home from work because Plutarch insisted on us exchanging our Secret Santa gifts before we left, but I ran out of there before I could open mine.

“It’s okay,” Peeta says gently. “We still have time.”

“I really wanted to get a shower before Karina’s concert,” I tell him and snag one of the fresh rolls Peeta must have made for dinner and scamper out of his reach. “But now I have to decide: food or shower.”

“Guess I’ll be dealing with your body odor during the concert then,” he teases and I stick my tongue out at him. I take a bite and try not to moan like a porn star as I clamber up the stairs. I swear I’ve put on ten pounds of carb weight being married to Peeta. But who freaking cares when I get to eat cheese buns like these all the time now.

“Tell Karina she needs to get down here to eat!” Peeta calls after me and I give him a garbled answer then step aside to let Karina pass me.

“Heard you, Dad. I’m coming.”

I start the shower water and finish the roll while it warms up. A quick shower and then I get dressed. My red stockings, a long sweater dress in a soft, warm, charcoal gray knit. I tug on a pair of my nicer knee high boots and quickly dry my hair enough so I won’t freeze and then braid it. By the time I make it downstairs, it’s almost time to go. Peeta hands me a bowl of stew and kisses me on my temple.

“You look lovely,” he tells me and I smile up at him. While Peeta and Karina quickly clean up dinner, I shovel as much of the stew down my throat as possible. Grab a roll for the road, and follow them out the door.

As it was last year, Karina’s concert is lovely. And just as we did last year, Peeta and I hold hands the entire time. His thumb swipes gently back and forth over my skin. I rest my head on his shoulder while the other performers are on stage. When he lets go of my hand to record Karina, I rest it on his thigh.

When we finally make it home, Karina yawns loudly and tells us that she’s going to bed early. Between piano practices and homework, she’s had to stay up late a few nights leading up to the concert. Alone in our room, I peel off my boots then gasp when Peeta’s arms wrap around me from behind and he kisses up the side of my neck.

“You were wearing those stockings the whole night?” he asks and I laugh slightly, leaning to the side to glance at him over my shoulder.

“And?”

“Nothing,” he says. Then he leans in close and whispers hotly in my ear. “I’m just glad you didn’t tell me beforehand. Otherwise, I would’ve been hard the whole time. Would’ve dragged you out to the parking lot and fogged up the car windows instead of watching the whole concert.”

“You wouldn’t have done that. Not during a concert with Karina performing. And not in the car she rode there and home with us.”

“Probably wouldn’t have done it,” he agrees and then gives me a wicked grin. “But I would’ve been thinking about it.”

I scoff and push him away. He then notices the small gift bag I tossed on our bed earlier and picks it up. “What’s this? Is this for me?”

“Secret Santa gift exchange from work,” I explain as I step away and peel off my dress. “I’m slightly afraid to open it since Johanna was my Secret Santa.”

Peeta snorts and finishes changing into his sleep pants and a t-shirt. We brush our teeth standing next to each other and then climb in bed. He hands me the bag as I’m getting settled under the covers.

“Here. Open it now. I’ll protect you from whatever gag gift she gave you.”

I shrug and toss aside the green tissue paper before pulling a small black box out of the bag. Scrunching up my face, I open the box and slide out the inner, clear plastic packaging. I examine the object inside and feel my brow relaxing.

“Oh. That’s not so bad,” I say. Peeta coughs and I glance over at him. His face is all red and his expression is weird.

“It’s not?”

“It’s actually rather pretty.”

“Katniss, honey. Do you know what that is?”

“Of course. I’ve thought about getting a festive wine stopper for us but just didn’t feel the need.”

“Wine stop-- oh god,” Peeta groans and laughs.

“What?” I ask as he falls back on the pillows, covering his face. “Why are you making fun of me?”

“Because it’s not a wine stopper,” he chokes out and sits back up, taking the clear box from me and turning it to show me the miniscule label on the back. “It’s a butt plug. An anal sex toy.”

It takes me a few seconds to register what he’s saying and as soon as I do, I start sputtering. Ranting about how unprofessional it is of Johanna to give me something like this. But Peeta pulls the thing from its packaging, examines the sleek silver stem and the shimmering red jewel that crowns it. Then he tugs aside the sheets and gazes hungrily at my legs, still clad in the red stockings.

“You cannot be thinking of using it,” I snap and he grins at me.

“I mean, it matches your stockings,” he says, and I squeal as he moves into me so fast that I find myself caged beneath his body, his broad palms sliding underneath me and cupping my ass, lifting me up into him as he sucks at sensitive points along the side of my neck. “Fuck, now I kinda wanna see this winking at me from your ass while I fuck you from behind. Or play with it when it’s inside you while you ride me.”

“Peeta,” I gasp.

“Aren’t you even a little bit curious how it would feel?”

“Let’s shove it up your ass and see how you like it,” I grumble, but I sound breathless because of the way he’s kissing me, touching me. He chuckles darkly and slips his hand around my hip enough to tease along my backside. Just gentle touches and swipes of his fingers before he pushes a little harder and I make a sound I can only describe as pained, reluctant pleasure.

“Wouldn’t be the first thing I’ve had shoved up my ass during sex,” he whispers and I shiver, trying not to think too much about his sexual past before me. “And if you wanted to try it, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve used one with a woman.” Now I’m trying not to imagine him using one with Glimmer. Thankfully, his kisses are insanely distracting and he knows exactly how to touch me so that all I can think about is him. Just him and me.

“I can be gentle with you, Katniss. And it can feel incredible,” he practically growls and lifts his weight off of me, only enough to flip me over onto my stomach. I grip the pillow beneath me and watch as he sets the butt plug on the nightstand.

“But we won’t try anything you don’t want to try,” he says and puts his hands back on me, touching me until I’m a shivering, begging mess. And when he tugs my hips up so that I’m on all fours for him, and I feel his cock parting my pussy lips, I can’t help the quick twinge of curiosity I feel. His left hand is played on my lower back and ass as he slides into me. And the curiosity only grows as I watch the light play off the red gemstone and his thumb once again slips between my cheeks and presses against me. Teasing me without crossing any thresholds. I squirm beneath his touch and bite down on the pillow to stifle the sounds I make, the power of suggestion and the reality of his touch causing a cascade of sensation inside me.

Maybe next time.

[lazybarbarianrunaway]

My thoughts about Spider in Hunger Games universe

He’s orphan from district 12 

Friends with Sully kids. Jake Sully won games more than 20 years ago, so now he is mentor of new tributes

In this year Spider's name written more than 20 times

His foster family almost doesn't care about him. So he's hunting in the forest by himself for food

Just before the games Spider, Lo’ak and Kiri discussed an escape plan. It was his pipe dream

In the reaping day he is in the forest until the last moment, he's hunting so as not to think about upcoming event

In the crowd of children he immediately finds Lo’ak and Neteyam

After the female tribute was chosen, it was the male’s turn. The presenter's hand falls into the urn. The name sounds. Spider's heart stops “Lo’ak Sully”

After seconds Spider's jumping out of the crowd before Neteyam can do it. “I am the volunteer” Everything is silent.  “NO” he hears a loud scream. “Spider don't do it!” It is Lo’ak’s scream. But it is late. Spider is drugged to the stage.

In the waiting room Neteyam, Lo’ak and Kiri practically burst in on him. Kiri's hugging Spider and cries all the time. There is angry tears on Lo’ak while he's mumbling “You shouldn't have…“ “Now you have to win…” “If you lose, I’ll find you and kill you…” Neteyam's only saing faintly “Thank you”

On the train on the way to the Capitol his mentor, Jake Sully, is talking to him in private “What you did for my son was very noble. I can't repay you for my whole life” 

“You don't have to… I have very little time left to live”

“I’m not kidding, kid. I will do everything to help you to survive”

“Just like you’ve been doing it for the last 20 years for the other tributes? Big news none of them live. So stop your bravado and just do your job”

Spider really thinks he will die there

On the training arena he chooses short sword and bow

Careers try to be friends with Spider at first but he rejects any of their offers

He got 9 at the evaluation

Jake teaches Spider survival skills in the arena. Spider listens carefully without emotions

On the first day of the Games he grabs a backpack with supplies and a short sword.

On the first day half of tributes die

Spider feels that he has an advantage in the forest compared to the rest of the tributes

In the Capitol Jake is doing his best to attract sponsors to Spider

After surviving the night in the branches of a tall tree, Spider explores the territory of the arena. All the berries growing here in abundance are poisonous. Spider understands that he needs to hunt. But as long as he doesn't have bow with him, he doesn't have the opportunity to eat

At a random moment, trees began to fire up on Spider's path, fireballs flew at him (so the founders of the games tried to drive him away from the edge of the arena (he’s a little bit Katniss here, ahem)). He manages to escape, but nevertheless his hands are burned

After escaping from a sudden fire, he is overtaken by careers. Running away, he climbs a tall tree so fast that none of the tributes can reach him, even with a bow and arrow. Spider only mocks his pursuers, which makes them very angry

At night, a package from sponsors flies down to him. Inside there is soup and a note "Find little allies"

In the morning, he wakes up to strange noises. He sees a girl from another district pointing him to a nest of tracker jackers. Spider cuts off a branch with a nest killing several tributes. After going down he takes the bow from the hands of one of them

Waking up the next day he doesn't remember how he found himself in another part of the forest covered with leaves. A little later he finds the girl who helped him. He learns her name. Rue

From Rue Spider learns that the female tribute from his district died yesterday after he passed out

He and Rue team up to destroy the careers supplies. He makes a vow to himself that he will protect Rue and bring her to the final, even if he himself has to die

After the explosion of supplies Spider runs into the forest to find Rue. But she is not at the agreed place. He hears screams and runs as fast as he can, but does not have time, as another tribute kills Rue with a knife in the stomach. Spider kills this tribute with a bow at lightning speed

Spider sings while Rue is dying. He arranges a ceremony for her with the most beautiful flowers he can find nearby. After that he breaks down

Hatred of the Capitol is growing every day

Jack sends Spider useful supplies but no longer sends food

Spider is thinking about playing an act of defiance when things get really bad, so he collects a handful of poisonous berries and carries them with him

A few days later, Spider is severely exhausted but keeps himself alive thinking about Kiri and Lo’ak. He doesn't want them to see him so weak

There are 4 tributes left on the last day

They tracked Spider to the edge of the cliff. The slaughter began. No one has the strength to fight, but no one wants to give in. The first salvo of the cannon is heard after Spider pushed one of the tributes and he smashed his head on a stone. The second salvo of the cannon sounds when one tribute was slit in the throat. The last tribute is in no way inferior to Spider. Spider stands at the very edge of the cliff, swaying. Rage burns in the eyes of his opponent. Spider feels the edge of the earth with his heel. The tribute rushes at Spider like a bull. All Spider does is swing to the left. Tribute falls off a cliff and crashes to his death. Spider is left alone. Game over

Spider's mind is muddled. He understands that he has won, but he does not want to give the Capitol the joy of his victory. After all the torments that he has endured they deserve only shame and suffering. He takes a handful of berries out of his jacket pocket. Bringing his hand with the berries to his mouth, he feels a prick in his back. His world narrows and turns black

[clatoera]

Always Remember We’re Burned for Better Chapter 15: If I’m On Fire, You’ll be Made of Ashes Too

...Hey y’all. Sorry I sucked again and didn’t post for 17 days. I had a literal breakdown over boards and worked 70 hours a week two weeks ago and! Yeah!  Here we are! Back to full length chapters too so! woo. 

Direct quotes from Mockingjay are not mine!

TW for Glimmer’s speech at the end (Finnick’s speech in the book/movie) 

Title from My Tears Ricochet (T swift of course)

AO3

Masterpost

As always. thank you to my besties, who I feel bad tagging every week, but I don’t feel bad tagging @kentwells ever so!

Anyway...let's do it. 

“We’re never going to lose these ‘mentally unstable’ bands if you keep taking a swing at everyone who looks at us wrong.” Finnick flicks a shred of bread in Cato’s general direction, sure that no one would see him dare to waste food, even if that food was a glorified crouton. “You know she isn’t here for you to impress, right?”

“Leave him alone, Finnick.” Glimmer sighs, tired of yet another version of the same conversation. Cato’s unhinged. Glimmer’s unstable. Cato’s a loose cannon. Glimmer’s not to be trusted alone. “Gale deserved it, anyway, he’s running his mouth that the two of us are together-“

“And we would never.” Cato stabs the slightly sharper end of his spoon into the tray of lunch, having lost his privileges to any further utensil when he threatened to carve out Gale Hawthorne’s eyes with the spork he had just been upgraded to. “No offense, of course, Glimmer.”

“Oh, none taken! You were never my type anyway.” She offers over her full fledged fork and goes back to ripping up the stale roll to toss back at Finnick. “Besides , they were starting the same rumors about me and you Finny, that's not a rumor we need Annie to hear when we get her back.”

Such is how they, as the surviving victors, had decided to talk. It had to become when we got them back, not if. False hope or not, it was all they had to get them through day to day life in the hell hole that is District 13. It was a light at the end of an impossibly long tunnel that was the other side of this great war.

“I’ve had worse. He doesn’t even leave a mark.” Cato brushes off, taking Glimmer’s offering with an appreciative nod. “His only value is fawning over Fire girl anyway.”

“He keeps her stable enough. Which, you know you aren't getting any closer to getting them back by going after her personal attack dog, right ?” Finnick warns, noting how Katniss sits a safe distance away from Gale at their assigned table entirely across the room, firmly lodged against her little sister’s side.

“I find it hard to believe she cares about Peeta if she’s so easily moving on.” Glimmer huffs before she rests her left elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. “I’ll never be able to love someone else. And I don’t want to. You’d have to kill me before I'd just…move on that easily. She changes her man more often than she changes her braid.”

“Oh he wants her, but she doesn't feel the same.” Finnick assures, fingers falling into a familiar pattern of braiding his napkin. It was obsessive and unintentional, but it kept him in one piece. “She feels like she owes him, I think. For getting her family out…”

“And he left Peeta’s behind.” Cato reminds, a tone in voice that could nearly be disgust if someone really wanted to call it such, if they really wanted to look for meaning in the way he refers to the families from Twelve. “Seems like a low blow, leaving behind the family out of jealousy.”

He’ll deny it, fervently, to anyone who even suggests it, but there's something about the bombing of District Twelve right off the face of the map that settles inside him wrong. Sure, they were an outlying district, but wasn’t that the whole point of Panem? All the districts contribute to a greater good, providing some sort of service to the others. Twelve and Two, while plenty different, are both the mining districts after all. Maybe the mountainside villages of Two make the shantytowns of Twelve all the more desolate, but at their core, were they really that different in what they provided to the capitol?

If twelve was so expendable..what really makes the others any different?

-

Glimmer is the next one to renew the lease on her ‘mentally unstable’ armband, and lose their utensil privileges, when she actually uses a fork and goes after the same insufferable district twelve boy for having the audacity to insinuate that her relationship was fake.

–

“You two are wanted in the conference room.” A guard, maybe twice their age, announces at the door of their cell– room, okay fine it’s a room, but it may as well be their prison cell.

Glimmer shoots Cato a hesitant look– noone has ever wanted them in a conference, noone has ever given a single fuck about what they have to say about anything that happens to or around them.  At this point though, what would the benefit of executing them be?

“Sorry, Conference call isn’t on my schedule for the day.” Cato holds up his left arm, with their printed schedules tattooed in for the day. Not that either of them followed them– ninety nine percent of their time was spent inside these four walls of this room.  “Maybe if you factor it in we’ll consider–”

“It is not an option. You are expected promptly. Failure to attend will be seen as a direct act of discompliance and will have severe consequences.”

Cato tightens his jaw before he slips his feet over the edge of the bed, nodding to Glimmer to do the same. The narrowed look of her green eyes in his direction tells him all he needed to know– she can imagine the same consequence as him, which isn’t a direct threat to the two of them at all.

They say nothing as they follow this armed man, weaving through halls and up elevators, a route they could not re-create on their own even if they combined their brain power with the intention to do so.

The door has a keypad, opened only with a scan of the guard’s eye rather than any code they can memorize and exploit later.

Glimmer glances out of the corner of her eyes as she is ushered into the room a step in front of Cato, fully taking in the physicality of the guard as she passes him. They could probably take him, if one dispatched the gun from his hands and the other got him down.

Glimmer’s mental notes were tossed to the wayside when she saw the contents of the room.

Around a conference table sat Miss Mockingjay herself, Finnick Odair, a newly sober Haymitch Abernathy, Plutarch Heavensbee, Beetee, and a gray haired woman Glimmer could vaguely identify as the president of District 13.

Her eyes must betray her absolute distrust in the members of the room, as the guard behind her grabs her by the shoulders and goes to push her to the table, when Cato’s hand encircles one of the man’s wide wrists.

“Don’t touch her.” He warns, though it comes out as a warning growl. Cato would fight, that much he had proven over and over during their months long stint in the pit of hell that is District Thirteen.

“Now there’s no need for any of that–” Plutarch interrupts, and with a wave of his hand Glimmer’s shoulders are released and she steps forward on her own accord. “Please, sit. You two were invited here as guests for this conversation..”

“Oh, Guests? That's what we are here now? Guests?” Glimmer quips, but settles herself down in one of the conference chairs furthest away from anyone else, anyone who could reach up and grab at her. Guests, sure, of the local psychiatric lock down unit maybe.

“You have both been extended a generosity by District Thirteen under our protections. And you were both granted an even larger generosity under Miss. Everdeen’s Mockingjay deal. It would behoove you both to listen to the expectations that are required of you both.” The gray haired woman begins, addressing them both. However, it is like she sees through them both, refusing to look either in the face and instead staring through as if they are beneath her, unworthy of her attention.

Something about her steely gaze and underlying threats in her tone feels familiar to Cato, and for the briefest second it is like he is back in President Snow’s office being given an ultimatum with Clove at his side.

What he wouldn’t give to have her at his side now.

“...requested of you.” Plutarch intervenes, holding out a hand to stop the president from continuing on with what Cato assumes would be demanded. “We believe that having two victors from previously Career districts openly on the side of the Rebellion could help the cause, especially in District Two.”

“And before you start with the ‘we aren’t on the side of the rebellion’ crap,” Comes from Haymitch, who is more sober than either of them have ever seen him, looking dare they say well shaven and clean, “Remember who the Capitol has. If you think they’re being treated well out there… you’ve got another thing coming. This is how we get them back.”

“The faster we bring in the districts, the closer we are to Annie. And Clove. And Marvel. And Johanna and Peeta.” Finnick offers, also somehow miraculously looking healthier than he has since their time in Thirteen began. He had mentioned being allowed outside with Katniss for a few hours– the sunlight did him some good, clearly.

“It is expected that you will do your part to help this Revolution.” The cold voice of President Coin cuts through the warmer tones of past victors and a gamemaker, staring right into the center of Cato’s face. “If you give us cause to believe that you would in any way be a threat to this cause, we would have no choice but to remove that threat, and the threat your respective partners would present as well, once we got our opportunity.”

The threat is not even veiled, but before Cato can give her the rise and reaction Coin is prodding out of them, Katniss herself chimes in.

“That’s not part of the deal. The victors are pardoned. All of us.” Her tone is not the young girl who won the game, or the girl who gave everything for the sweet little sister that even Cato couldn’t hate, no, that was the voice of the leader of this rebellion. The power and insistence of someone with a lot more pull than she’d give herself credit for.

“Everyone is doing some part,” Plutarch interjects, attempting to assuage the underlying power struggle between the President and the Mockingjay. “Katniss is going into the battlefields, she’s shooting rallying calls on the front lines. Finnick has agreed to begin doing special features on fallen tributes from each district. Pulling on the heartstrings of every district one by one.”

“Glimmer, you were very popular in the capitol, maybe you could reach them.” Haymitch suggests, with a wave of his hand. “Smile, toss your hair, whatever it takes..”

Before Glimmer can snap back in response Cato takes over, despite how she deserves to say whatever the hell she wants at this point.

“How are you even getting in? Doesn’t Snow control the airways?” Cato leans back, arms crossed over his chest firmly, a stance of both disbelief and judgment. “Do districts even have televisions for this to get across?”

“I am responsible for the creation of a lot of the airways.” Beetee explains, wheeling his chair over to access a remote before clicking on the screen. “Here’s what we have so far.”

They watch the reel of Katniss in District Eight, as a hospital is obliterated in the background. They watch her on the front lines rediscovering District Twelve, and most notably, they hear her voice filling the air as she sings a song of rebellion and lovers running to their conjoined deaths.

“...maybe your talent should’ve been singing, not Fashion.” Glimmer comments, though there is no sarcasm or venom in her own tone. It’s a compliment, a genuine one, when she says, “you have a lovely voice, Katniss.”

“Peeta thought so too.” Katniss admits, finally making direct eye contact with the career girl for the first time. “It just..it wasn’t for everyone else.”

“Look at that, this government can exploit you, too. It’s not just the Capitol!” Glimmer snorts, shaking her head before glancing at Cato out of the side of her eye.

His jaw is locked, his knuckles nearly white from how tightly he is squeezing his fist together. Something in the conversation had successfully gotten to him, and while the source of all of his self control is locked in a cell in the captiol, he somehow manages to hold himself back for once.

“Katniss…let us talk. Alone. Finnick too.” Glimmer requests, glancing between the other two young victors in the room. There’s only four of them left, maybe only four left in the whole world for all they know.

Now is the time to make new alliances.

“Absolutely not.” President Coin interjects, shaking her head furiously. “The safety of Katniss is too important–”

“They won’t hurt us.” Finnick assures, giving a knowing nod to Glimmer and Cato both. There is an understanding, an agreement, amongst the victors. “Let us talk.”

Haymitch puts his hands up to prevent any further debate or questioning. “I say we give them ten minutes. We can wait right outside the door for them, come in the minute we hear a raised voice for something being thrown.”

“Ten minutes.” Plutarch agrees, and that seems to convince Alma Coin to eventually agree as well.

“You get exactly ten minutes. Nothing more.” She pushes herself back and the elder men at the table agree, shooting Glimmer and Cato a look of diluted venom, not quite a snake but maybe a scorpion instead.

The immediate second the door is closed, Glimmer lets out a shaky breath. “I don’t like her at all.”

For the first time ever, Katniss smiles at Glimmer, in a wordless agreement. Maybe the leader of the rebellion couldn’t say it, but the unhinged victim from District One certainly could.

“What the fuck is going on out there?” Cato immediately presses Katniss, the only victor who has seen beyond the perimeter of thirteen and into the real world.  “Who’s fighting, is there an actual war happening?”

“All of the Districts have joined, except for District Two.” Katniss begins, oddly at ease with two of the people who were most determined to kill her. “Two provides the army, I guess–”

“Peacekeepers, yeah.” Cato agrees, giving an unsurprised nod. That was always the other option– you either went in the games and won or the high level of training guaranteed a higher rank in the peacekeepers upon graduation. There were the outliers, training partners who resented each other for not getting into the games, who married and tried to combine their mediocre genetics to create a victor child. That had not been successful, possibly ever, but every year there were one pair who tried it. “Two won’t be easy.”

“....even One is in the war? On our side” Glimmer pipes up, for the first time verbally acknowledging that yes, she is with the Mockingjay, too. “That’s a loss for the Capitol, they rely on us for..just about anything they enjoy.”

“It was you and Marvel, Glimmer.” Finnick reaches forward to grab at the remote, shuffling through additional propos as they talk, an audio buffer to protect their conversation from the inevitable listening ears just outside the door. “It had to be everything you said before the games. They had enough of sending their children to be trafficked. They’ve sent enough luxury goods, their sons and daughters aren't going to be added to the list of their hottest commodities anymore.”

“....do you know if Cash and Gloss are…”

“We don’t. But what we do know is that the Capitol is completely cut off from everyone but Two.”  Katniss adds, looking between the two.

“You two need to see this.” Finnick interrupts, before he settles on a hidden file of a recording deep in the depths of a desktop folder . “They already think Katniss hasn’t, and I know they kept this from you two. You’re a liability when you’re angry.”

“What do you mean they’re keeping something from us, they keep everything from us, what else could it be-” Glimmer is cut off by her own gasp of shock, when the screen lights up with a scene in the President’s mansion. Peeta– looking far worse for the wear, fifteen pounds lighter than he had been just a week ago on the recording, with deep dark circles under his eyes– is flanked on either side by two other victors.

Their other victors.

Glimmer is on her feet first, a look of pure horror on her face as she reaches out to the screen to touch the ghost of Marvel’s face.

Like Peeta, he is easily fifteen pounds lighter than he had been when they were lifted from the arena. And though the collar of his shirt doesn’t seem to conceal bruises the way Peeta’s does, he looks overall limp.  Lifeless. As if the fight has been sucked right out of him. Most notably to Glimmer, of course, is his eyes. The shining blue of his eyes lacks the joy and brightness she had come to find her home in, the one constant source of comfort ripped from them both.

“What did they do to him?” Glimmer whispers, frantically looking around the duration of the screen for any other clue. “Are they starving them? What are they doing to him?”

Clove does not look as distinctly ill to the untrained eye. Always small, the drop in weight is not as blatantly apparent on her. Sure, the darkness under her eyes is abnormal, but anyone would see it as a normal response to lack of sleep and stress. There is some purple discoloration at the top of her black dress, that may even be passed off as a shadow rather than bruising.

But when she slightly tilts her head to the side, Cato recognizes in an instant the way the corner of her lip twitches downward for the slightest moment. It was a tell, a tell only to someone who had spent the majority of his life pulling from her.

Pain.

Clove was never one to show it, not in the academy, not in the games, and surely not for the nation.

Cato, though, knew her tells and her secrets more than he knew his own.

“What the fuck did they do to her.” Cato pushes himself to a standing position immediately, his voice barely above a whisper. For all he can growl and scream, there's something almost more haunting about the way he whispers in this moment, like a man possessed. “Why the fuck did he touch her–”

“It’s a message to us,” Finnick has to explain, as Katniss locks her gaze on her feet and never at the screen. “They don’t say anything, Peeta does all the talking, but look at them. It’s a message, Cato. You’re here, you are guilty, and she is going to pay for it.”

Katniss does not look up, she can’t stomach to watch the violence that has occurred to Peeta yet again. Peeta, who has suffered for the crime of loving her, for the crime of being too good.

“I’m going to kill him.” Cato snarls, and though it isn’t said it is immediately understood who he means.

“You’re going to have to fight me for it.” Katniss chimes in, though she continues her lock on the floor while Cato and Glimmer keep their eyes locked on the screen.

“Why aren’t they speaking?” Glimmer half whimpers, unable to tear her eyes away from the remnants of her loved ones on the other side of the screen. “Why aren’t they saying anything!”

“Because Peeta’s the mouthpiece. Peeta is to the Capitol what Katniss is here. They started this rebellion, they have to represent it. They’re a message to you two, and you two only.”  

“...has there been any sign of Annie? Or Johanna?” Glimmer tries, though her heart is with the dulled eyes of the man she loves on the screen.

The silence that follows provides the answer they needed, without ever needing to even be said.

“...I’m in.” Glimmer agrees in an instant, backing away but not breaking her gaze. “Whatever you need from me, I’m in.”

“We have to get them back.” Cato begins, though he has also moved to a standing position right in front of the tv. “I’m going to get her.” And though he’s made the threat before– and been shot down at the idea– the demand has new meanings. They need to get them and do it fast.  “....I don’t know what I can say or do on these stupid videos. I have no big story. I don’t think I’m much help…”

He wants to argue, he wants to come up with an excuse as to why he’s no use, but he can’t. He’d do anything for that psychotic girl, walk to the ends of the earth for her, if it meant she was safe in his arms.  

“Fuck it, I’m in.”

-

They never planned to die by being suffocated alive in the tomb that is the bowels of District 13 in a bunker, if they were dying it was in glory in the games or at their own hands on their own terms.

Cato, Glimmer, and Finnick were resolved to their own tiny corner, much like the lunch table, where none of the other citizens would dare come near them.

Cato sits on the floor, the heels of his hands digging so deeply into his eyes that it stung. If there were any light– which there is not– Glimmer would have been able to see the way he is digging into the skin of his hairline, like he wants to peel his skin from his skull.

It had been a nightmare to get him to agree to come under ground after the disastrous interview.

Peeta had been flying solo in an interview yet again, though Clove and Marvel must’ve been nearby. When whatever trance Peeta was in broke, he had warned them of their impending death, and the feed cut out as fast as the Capitol could manage.

Not fast enough, of course, to drown out the blood curdling scream in the background of Peeta’s broadcast. It would have been ambiguous enough, with no face to the name of an anonymous woman, until the single word she managed before the broadcast cut came across clear as day.

Cato.

Him. She was calling for him. Screaming for him, really, and here he was. Unable to get to her. Unable to help her.

“She called for me.” Cato repeats, over and over and over again, bordering a state of catatonia and hysteria as he refuses to get off the ground.

“I know.” Glimmer sighs, a half hearted agreement. There was nothing she could do, to ease his comfort. It was clear as day– Clove had screamed his name from deeper inside the President's mansion,  and it was clearly a call of desperation.

Clove would kill her if she called it a cry for help, even if for all the world that is exactly how it sounded.

While it could have been a warning, like Peeta had given. A dead girl walking calling out in warning you too, Cato, he’ll kill you too. It could have been confirmation of what Peeta was saying.

No matter what her intention, it did not change all Cato could hear.

She had been his longest friend before she was his world, his longest ally, and they had always had each other’s backs. That was a plea rooted deeply in their childhoods, deeply in the core of who they are.

That was not a cry of a desperate girl, that was not the scream for her lover. That was a scream and cry for her partner, the one person in two she was supposed to be able to rely on to be there if she got in too deep of trouble.

And he failed her.

Not as her life long best friend, or as the man who married her.

He failed her as her partner.

He is only pulled from his self effacing spiral by the feeling of something soft brushing against his calves.

He nearly flinches when he realizes it is the tail of a soft little animal against his legs, and not some sneak attack.

A purring noise immediately betrays the creature as Katniss’s sister’s cat, the only pet in all of thirteen. The little thing didn’t like Katniss and so it already earned a bonus point in Cato’s book, and he thinks of his own little sister every time he sees the little blonde that belongs to the girl on fire. He gives the cat a half-hearted pet, remembering how desperately his sister had begged their parents for a cat for her fourth birthday, and how he nearly bought her one with his winnings a few years prior.

He lets himself think of the dog he and Clove will never get to have and begins to give the cat a more diligent pet in honor of the future they have lost.

He failed her. He failed her. He failed her.

He’s lost her.

-

The four of them, the surviving, youngest victors, are led above ground before anyone else is given clearance.  It of course had to be deemed safe before they let precious Katniss Everdeen step foot above ground.

“What the fuck.” Is the first thing Cato thinks to say, when he takes in the surrounding destruction. Where as he had expected the smoke and ash, nothing could have prepared him for the blanket of white that littered the smoking land. For a second he wonders if it is snow, if somehow a nuclear winter has fallen upon them, but the warmth of the air pushes that idea right out of his head. He’s acutely aware of the team of videographers focused in on Katniss, priming and prodding her to make some statement about surviving an attack by the capitol.

There is a soft crunching under his foot, and when he sees the slightly luminescent spray of white rose petals under his heels, he realizes (though he does not understand) that they are walking in a sea of white roses. He is about to pick one up, to run the unnatural petals between his fingers, but he is immediately startled by the  panic coming from Katniss just over the rocks.

“He’s going to Kill Peeta. I can’t do this–”

Cato steps forward, over the edge of the rocks to catch a glimpse of Katniss, as she slowly starts to unravel before the cameras.

There is a woman with a half shaved head with a camera in the girl’s face, prodding and poking at her to brag about the survival of the center of the rebellion against a direct attack from the Capitol, but Katniss is fading fast at their insistence.

“He’s going to kill him, because I’m the Mockingjay. I can’t do it.” Katniss utters as she staggers away, trying to avoid the cameras shoved in her face and their persistence.

Haymitch Abernathy takes her by the shoulders, and leads her out of the way of the Camera, but it isn’t enough for Cato.

Because if they’re going to kill Peeta, they’re going to kill Clove too.

He pushes the camera out of the woman’s hands, not enough to break but enough to be indisposed just for a little while.

“She isn’t fucking doing it,” Cato reaffirms, hand still resting on the camera equipment, not breaking it but not opposed to doing so.

Finnick leads the camera crew away before Cato can make any permanent damage to the equipment or the war effort.

–

“Why the fuck didn’t you let me go, I’ve been threatening to go for months and you left us behind!” Cato pushes firmly in the middle of Haymitch Abernathy’s chest, cornering him into the wall. “I should be there! It’s my fucking job, she’s mine.”

“You couldn’t be trusted not to go off on your own, Cato.” Haymitch explains, gently placing his hands on the young man’s shoulders.  “It was impromptu, there wasn’t time to get you properly trained.”

“Properly Trained? I gave my entire life to training for this! I know what i’m doing–” He snarls at the older victor, and without Enobaria and Brutus here to cool him off he might just carry through on his most intrusive of thoughts, the ones that say to crush the man’s skull against the concrete wall. “I’m better trained than anyone in this hell hole.”

“You aren’t reliable. You’ll throw the whole mission to get to that girl, they couldn’t risk it.”

“Let me make something so incredibly clear. I will throw any mission, I would throw this entire district, I would let this rebellion burn to the ground if it meant getting to her. I do not give a single fuck about any other person in this entire district, but her.” Cato drops his grip on Haymitch, letting the man relax against the wall. “If they leave her behind, I am going to kill every single one of them. That’s a promise, Haymitch. I don’t need a sword or a knife or a gun or a fork. I will kill them.”

“That's exactly the problem, Cato”

-

“What is he doing..” Glimmer whispers, wiggling her thumbnail between her bottom front teeth. Her nails bleed from her biting to the quick, watching as Finnick commands the attention of the camera and the media screen behind them.

“It’s to distract while they’re in the training center,” Someone, Glimmer doesn’t care who, informs her.

Listening to his words, with his allusions and language with only insinuation, she wipes the blood of her fingers on the sad gray of her clothes, and steps forward.

“Put me on.”

Beetee quirks his head at her, and Plutarch gives her an unsure look, not quite trusting she knew what she was offering to do.

“Finnick has it.” Plutarch assures with a patronizing half smile, before redirecting his attention to Finnick and the broadcast going out to all of Panem.

“We were told to do our part, this is mine. Put me on.” Glimmer once again insists, this time walking herself right into the eyesight of the camera.

They cannot stop her when she steps in directly next to Finnick, as he recalls stories of secrets shared as late night pillow talk, as the exchange for his service.

“Stop sugar coating it.” Glimmer demands, stepping into the light of the camera.

The girl presented to Panem is a far cry from the beautiful bombshell of a victor she was once paraded around as. Once perfectly manicured nails bleed from the quick she had bitten them too. Once perfectly shiny, bouncing curls fall in two half braided pigtails, with crinkled waves going the length of her hair, frizzy ringlet curls framing her eyes. There is no perfectly winged eyeliner, eyelash extensions, or expertly applied blush.

She is not a shimmering shining prize, but she is still Glimmer.

“Finnick is so considerate as to give you a filtered version of what happened to us. I’m not. We weren’t just ‘sold’ to the highest bidder. I was brutally, violently raped. From the time I was fifteen years old. I have been held down until I screamed, and I have bled and begged people to stop. My sister, my brother, Finnick, Marvel..and countless others. We are not being rented, we are being violently abused. There is a trafficking ring of Victors. Starting from our childhood. I was fifteen. Fifteen years old! Finnick was Fourteen! We were children!” Glimmer catches Katniss out of the corner of her eye, who has a whole new layer of horror painted on her features. Katniss nods at her, to keep going, because if she is enraptured so is the entirety of the capitol.

“It doesn’t stop there! My entire life has been this. I’ve been sent to procedures where I don’t even know what they did to me! I’ve been drugged unconscious for days! I have sat in bath tubs full of my own blood, and woken up in sheets so wet with it that I couldn’t stand the next day! We lose our childhood to the games, but we lose our innocence to them! Seven years. Seven years of horrific abuse, and if I didn’t? Then my parents die. Then my older sister and brother, who already did all of this to protect me. They go after the people you love. Call this what it is. It is violence and it is abuse.”

Together, Glimmer and Finnick offer a passionate plea.

Finnick exposes name after name of a capitol official and bought him, listing the secrets of each and every one. Between stories Glimmer accounts graphic details of a girlhood lost, of specific moments of begging for death after fighting so hard for her life. Finnick exposes the President himself and his history of poisonous treachery, while Glimmer recounts the long nights and the aftermath of such horrific, harrowing moments of her young life.

Ultimately they lose the broadcast until Katniss steps in and directly asks for the President himself.

Glimmer steps out of the light, and realizes for the first time that she has tears running down her face, uncontrollable and unstopping.

Cato can’t help it, when he grabs her and pulls her in what could pass for a hug. He’s seen Glimmer as, well, Glimmer, for a long time. A career victor from One who had gone through a little too much at the hands of the capitol. Something about her now, though, goes deeper than that. She is someone’s little sister, someone’s little blonde sister who was robbed of the sweetness his own was so remarkable for. He is all too aware that he may never see his own again.

She is a brotherless sister and he is a sisterless brother, who would give just about anything to make sure his little blonde baby sister never even knew the kind of horrors Glimmer experienced even existed.

He watches over Glimmer’s head, as Katniss pleads her case to the president directly.

“You asked me to convince you I was in love with Peeta. Haven’t I at least done that?” Katniss questions, and there is an earnestness in her voice that even Cato cannot ignore.

Maybe she had convinced them all.

The next words Cato picks up on send a chill to the very root of his spine.

“Don’t you think I know your friends are in the tribute center? Cut them off.”

If his blood could run cold, it would have. As the feed cuts out, and Katniss begins to spiral- “He was taunting me, he knew the whole time!”-- and the reality starts to come from Beetee– “we can’t communicate with them” it all falls into place. The seemingly unbroken communication, the opportunity to plead directly with the president of the country..it all made more sense as reality set in.

It was a trap.

They were never getting them out.

“They’re dead.” Glimmer whispers, pushing him back and turning to face the screen. Her sob catches in her throat before she even realizes it is coming. “They’re dead, we aren’t ever getting them back!”

The four of them are corralled into a single, padded, locked room on the same level of the command center using various levels of sedatives.

Hours pass, maybe. They can’t be sure, in their windowless room, with some drug coursing through their system.

Finnick rocks and ties his knots, and Katniss has gone catatonic, resting her chin on her knees, humming that creepy death song from the propo she filmed what seemed like ages ago.

Glimmer lays against a wall, tears freely flowing from her eyes, matching the level of helpless she feels deep in the core of who she is.

Cato paces. Whatever they calmed them down with has started to wear off in him, based on his sheer size alone.

“When did you know you loved Annie?” Katniss nearly whispers to Finnick, voice and face flat in affect. “Was it immediate?”

“No. It was gradual. She snuck up on me.”  Finnick nearly smiles, but then passes the question on to Glimmer. “What about you? When did you know?”

“We were friends for a long long time at first. I would sleep in his room a lot. Nothing ever happened and then..well It was actually during Clove’s games. I looked at him one morning and I realized that I wasn’t afraid when I was with him. He was right there, right in front of me the whole time.” Glimmer nearly smiles, but the tears do not stop. “Come on Cato, like we weren’t all there.”

Cato stops, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand for a moment. “We uh..we were fifteen. We trained together since we were ten, you know? She was at my house with my baby sister and I realized that I knew exactly how many freckles she had on her face. One hundred and forty seven. That isn’t a normal thing that you notice about someone.”

There is a soft silence that befalls them, as if it hits them at once that they are giving eulogies to the love they have lost.

“....It was on the beach in the Quell. That's when I really knew.”  Katniss offers without prompting, the softness in her voice confirming what they had slowly grown to accept.

Somewhere along the line- during the quell, apparently– life began to imitate the art of the star crossed lovers' performance.

Time passes slowly in thirteen.

How long exactly, none of them know.

The door swings opens without so much as a knock, and Haymitch lets himself into the room of sedated, miserable victors, before he announces:

“They’re back.”

[toastyeverlark]

“Mother, I’m fine,” Katniss sighs, slouching against the armchair as Mrs Everdeen meticulously wraps the bandage around her daughter’s arm. She does it so slowly and carefully that it looks like her years of experience as a healer has been thrown out the window, and it’s her first time bandaging someone’s arm.

“You are not fine, Katniss. You have to take extra care of that arm for the next few days. I don’t know if I should leave now - Prim and I aren’t going to be around to take care of you…” she mutters worriedly, checking the bandage.

“Mother - ” Katniss begins, but Peeta cuts her off.

“Don’t worry, Mrs Everdeen. I’ll take care of Katniss.”

Mrs Everdeen lets out a huge sigh of relief, looking at him as if he just saved her life. “Oh, will you really? Thank you so much, Peeta, but what about the bakery? Won’t your parents…”

Peeta shakes his head. “Don’t worry about that, my father says I won’t be needed at the bakery this week so I’ve got all the time in the world.”

“Oh, splendid,” Mrs Everdeen claps her hands, looking joyful, “I’ll be very assured now that you’re around to take care of Katniss.”

“Mum, I can take care of myself just fine,” Katniss insists, “Peeta - thank you. I think it’s very kind of you, but it’s too much trouble.”

“It’s okay,” Peeta smiles. “I want to.”

-

Katniss stares at him bemusedly as he drags a mattress towards the foot of her room door and throws a pillow and blanket on top of it.

“What…are you doing? My mother prepared a room for you.”

“Oh, I figured you wouldn’t be comfortable with me sleeping in your room, but I don’t feel assured sleeping so far away either, where I can’t hear you if you have a fall.”

“I won’t have a fall,” Katniss sounds mildly annoyed. “I injured my arm, not my legs. I can get around just fine.”

“What if you need a glass of water? I’ll have to get one for you. Perhaps you need to get something but you can’t reach it with one arm. I’ll be able to get it for you.”

“I can do whatever you just mentioned by myself. Look, you can sleep here if you want, but I’m telling you, you’re going to wish you slept on a proper bed when you get up in the morning.”

With that, she turns to go into her room and climbs onto the bed. The truth is, her arm is starting to hurt way more than when she first injured it, which her mother did say might happen, and to drink a special medicine she had instructed Peeta how to prepare should Katniss end up needing it.

Katniss doesn’t feel like getting the medicine, because Peeta will, for a fact, fuss over her, and it’s honestly not that big of a deal.

The pain will most likely minimise over time anyway. I’m sure it will be better after I get some rest, Katniss assures herself as she pulls the covers up to her shoulders. It’s a bit of a struggle with her non-dominant arm, but she manages.

“Katniss…?” Peeta calls softly, worried that he might scare her awake.

He doesn’t need to worry about that, actually, because she’s been lying awake staring at the ceiling for the past hour.

Why is the pain getting worse, why is the pain getting worse, she squeezes her eyes shut and opens them again.

“I’m…okay. Go back to sleep,” she whimpers in reply, clutching her injured arm with the other.

“You’re not. Can I…come in?”

The pain is starting to get a little unbearable, so Katniss relents. “Yeah, okay.”

The door clicks open and Peeta immediately rushes to her side. “Katniss…I’ll prepare the medicine for you, okay? I’ll be quick. Hang on.”

Katniss doesn’t respond to him, but instead curls up into a ball and rocks back and forth, her back against the bed frame.

She can hear him scrambling around in the kitchen to prepare the medicine. There is a loud clang, and Katniss guesses at once that Peeta had dropped the metal pan in his rush to get the medicine done as quickly as possible. She smiles a little at the thought.

It makes her feel warm inside, and momentarily, the pain diminishes.

“Hey,” Peeta brings her out of her thoughts by gently touching her shoulder, “I’ve prepared it exactly how your mother told me to. It’ll definitely help you feel better.”

Katniss reaches for the bowl in Peeta’s hand, and he stops her.

“Let me,” his eyes meet hers when he says this. Katniss has to look away.

Peeta dips the spoon into the bowl of medicine, scooping up a generous amount of liquid. He gently blows on it; Katniss notices that he is always gentle in whatever he does - and puts the spoon at her mouth.

Her heart is racing, and she finds that it is easier to ignore the pain in her arm now. All she can think of is if Peeta can hear the loud thumping of her heart. Katniss has never felt this way around someone before.

“Katniss?”

“Oh,” she blinks, and leans forward to gulp down the spoonful of liquid. “Sorry.”

He observes her for a while. “Do you feel better? Your mother says the effect is supposed to be instantaneous.”

“Um, yeah. Yeah, loads better already,” she says absentmindedly. Maybe the medicine really does work. She doesn’t know anyway. She’s too preoccupied with trying not to blush.

“Oh, good,” he looks immensely relieved. “I’ll leave it by your bed, she says you can take it in spoonfuls at separate times until the pain is completely gone.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you. You can go back to sleep now. Sorry for waking you.”

Katniss proceeds to turn her back to him as she tries to lie back down and pull the covers up again.

“Let me,” Peeta reaches forward and pulls the duvet upwards towards her shoulders, tucking her in nicely.

“Okay?”

She nods.

He reaches out, intending to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, but stops halfway and puts his hand behind his back.

“Sorry. I just…um, if you need me, I’ll be outside your door.”

-

Katniss opens her eyes to see Peeta gently tapping her awake.

“Good morning, beautiful. I made breakfast. Are you feeling well enough to get out of bed? I could bring your breakfast in if you’d like.”

“It’s fine, there’s no need for that, uh…give me a minute. I’ll be right out,” she mutters. Despite his cheeriness, he looks exhausted. He probably didn’t get enough sleep already, and now he’s actually gotten up early to prepare breakfast for her.

“Your mother says this is your favourite,” he grins proudly as she takes a seat at the dining table.

Katniss looks down at her plate of food. Peeta had prepared her favourite type of breakfast - cheese buns.

“I’m sorry my mother gave you so many instructions,” she says, embarrassed. “I’m not actually this fussy.”

“She didn’t,” Peeta looks up from eating his toast with a smile. “I asked.”

“You don’t have to do so much for me, Peeta,” Katniss swallows a bite of cheese bun, “I don’t want to have to owe you.”

“You don’t owe me anything. You don’t now, and you never will. Whatever I’m doing for you, Katniss, I’m doing it because I want to.”

He piles more cheese buns onto her plate. “Okay?”

She gives him half a smile and takes another bite.

“You know, you look…really pretty when you smile.”

“That wasn’t really a…smile.”

“And yet you still look beautiful.”

[aquanova99]

Haunted (Cato x Reader)

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Part 4

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A/N: Jesus it’s been forever I apologize in advance but this is a long longggggg chapter last I checked it was at 6.5k words so I’m sorry about that. Really so sorry again, it’s hard to resummarize and also rewrite your version of the book

A/N: I hope you are having a day as wonderful as you 🤍

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Y/ns pov

 Day 1 travel to the capitol. Day 2, tribute parade. Days 3, 4, and 5, group training with private training with the gamemakers the second half of day 5. Day 6, train for and have the interview of your life. Day 7, travel to location and begin trying to survive. Lovely, at the moment you were on day 4. How many hours of sleep did you end up getting last night, two? Four? It didn’t matter, you were ready to begin training. You debated going into Peeta’s room to ask him if he wanted to get in some extra training but you enjoyed having space to destress and actually practice.

 You put on an oversized, long sleeve t-shirt and black leggings and some white sneakers. You put your hair up in a high ponytail and headed down to the training center. You weren’t surprised to find it empty, but luckily at least this time there were trainers and instructors setting up for the day. You had been improving but even with the extra practice you were still behind the rest of the careers. You asked for the instructors help with archery, you knew if Katniss had been here that would be her weapon of choice. It was clear to see it was not your strength. After a few minutes you managed to at least get close to your target. You were frustrated with yourself, you knew how accurate Katniss’s kills were, you wondered how she would fare in the games for a split second before shaking your head and trying to refocus.

 You shot another time and you were shooting too much to the right. You threw the bow and arrows down out of frustration, groaning as you sat with your head in your hands.

 “Not bad 12.” Your head shot up to see the district one tribute standing against the door to the training center. You scrambled back to your feet, worried about more people now knowing about having extra practice. “When did you sneak in here?”

 “Uhm, like ten minutes ago?” Lie. “I saw them start to set up so I figured it was okay to come in.” Another lie.

 “Not bad at shooting, probably around the same as Glimmer.” He was stating an observation, you weren’t able to figure out if he was annoyed or impressed. You were nervous. And also annoyed you’d seen Glimmer shoot you were better than her. Your mind started racing. What if he had been standing there for longer than 10 minutes? You needed to get out of there.

 “Well, uhm I should go… and get my partner.”

 Marvel picked grabbed a spear and perfectly shot it at a target, “Sure 12.”

 You sped walked to the elevator and headed back to your floor. You weren’t surprised to see your team waiting for you.

“Where have you been?” Peeta asked

 “Couldn’t sleep I was just walking around, went to the roof and then went to see if the training center was open, they just finished setting up in there by the way.”

 You knew Haymitch could tell you were lying but he didn’t press. Instead Peeta replied again, “You should be careful going to the roof, I went up there the other day and I think the victor from District 2 was up there.”

 “Cato?” Effie asked

 “Yeah that one.” You could tell Peeta did not like him. Most people didn’t. Anyone who trained and won the games were never the favorites back home. You decided to keep the run ins you had with him silent.

 “I’ll be careful. Are you ready?”

 “He has to change first. Go pick out a shirt that at least coordinates with hers.” Peeta just nodded and left, “and you, I can’t do anything about your sleep sweetheart but at least grab something to eat before you go down there.”

 You nodded and grabbed some rolls leftover from breakfast and a bottle of water to take with you. When Peeta still hadn’t come back you ended up grabbing a small plate full of breakfast food and eating as quickly as you could. You were halfway done with your food when Peeta finally came back out.

“This is as close as I got to that color.”

 “Its fine, lets go.”

 “Don’t you want to finish?” Peeta motioned at your half-finished plate.

 “Nope all done.” You grabbed Peetas hand and led him to the elevator, “Come on, I want to try some actual fighting skills today.” You weren’t the last to arrive this time. In fact, it was only the careers and the boy from 10 and the girl from 5. The rest of the tributes started trickling in after you and Peeta had lined up for the hand-to-hand combat station. The boy from district 11, Thresh was behind you. While Peeta was getting instructions from the trainers you turned back to him. You noticed no one was lined up behind him, probably too intimidated.

“So, still thinking about possibly being allies?”

 “No chance 12.”

 “Come on, I know Rue wants to.”

 “Yeah, but I don’t trust your boyfriend over there. I think I saw him talking to the careers.”

 “What? When?” This was news to you, you weren’t supposed to train separately, but if he had been waiting to use another station like this case maybe he had talked to them. You looked back at Peeta sparring and felt thresh lean over just a bit.

 “Yesterday after he had thrown those weights. The guy from 2 and the girl from 1 talked to him while you were cleaning up from the camouflage station. Rue isn’t sure about him either.”

You remembered, Peeta had fallen on an obstacle course and when the careers began laughing you had told him to go against what Haymitch had said. You made sure to keep your eyes trained on Peeta. Your plans to not work with him solidifying every day. Thresh could just be messing with you, but he seemed too straightforward to say something like this. You spoke loud enough for him to be able to hear, looking annoyed with your arms crossed.

 “I’m only doing this until the games. I don’t plan on working with him after that.”

 “We’ll see.”

 You were prepared to say something else but Peeta came down right then, “Go ahead y/n, good luck up there its intense.” You smiled as sweetly as you could and headed up there. Thankfully you were able get some of your anger out. You did your best to avoid most of the hits and land a few of your own but you ended on your back more often than not. You were not looking forward to having to do that in the games. You looked over and noticed Peeta talking to the district 1 girl, Glimmer. Now you knew Thresh was right. Dammit. How were you supposed to get allies if he was doing stuff like this? All of the guys were bigger than you and most of the girls were too. The only upper hand you had is that you would be used to foraging and surviving without the comforts of the capitol.

 Once you reconnected with Peeta the two of you headed back to a smaller station, identifying edible plants and roots. A relatively easy one for you, and it gave you and Peeta a chance to talk again.

 “So, what did you and Thresh talk about?”

 “I was asking him about being allies with us.”

 “Anything with that?”

 “Nothing.” You sighed, it was a shame. Peeta was so nice, but he was making mistakes. Even though you didn’t mind at the boy from 1, you would never talk to him in front of the other districts. That would be suicide none of the other districts would even think of considering to being allies. “Why were you talking to Glimmer?”

 “She was trying to dig for information. See what we found out about the other tributes. Since we decided to talk to them yesterday.”

 “What did you say?”

 “Nothing, I told them no wanted to be allies. Which is true. Since you talked to Thresh and he said no.” You just nodded. If you kept up this whole charade of working together, you’d never be able to work with anyone else. And if came down to a fight you didn’t stand much of a chance.

 This time at the cafeteria you didn’t talk to anyone.  You were starting to panic, especially for the private sessions with the gamemakers, you weren’t sure what you were even going to do.

“Y/n?” Peetas voice snapped you back to reality, “Come on pretend I said something funny. We still have to keep this up.” You just complied, you weren’t trying to upset Haymitch and so far he’d actually been trying to help. This whole charade seemed to be so easy for Peeta, you wondered how much of everything he said was true. You were so tired, you wanted to get these games over with. Win or lose, at this point you didn’t care. Peeta had to ask you things several times and direct you on what to do, while you did enjoy Peeta’s company forcing yourself to work with only to possibly have to kill him in a few days was doing a number on your mind. The worst part was that because you liked him you wanted to work with him less and less, you would know it was all business with Thresh. Rue… well. Rue was different you were almost rooting for her to win at this point. Especially seeing her potential come out in training, she never missed with her slingshot and she was always climbing on equipment, it wasn’t until she had managed to steal one of the knifes Arioch had been training with that you realized you were underestimating her, Rue had potential, real potential to get far in this game and you wanted to help her do it. You tried not to think at what cost that might affect your own game.

 Going back to training Peeta asked you again what you wanted to work on, you had told Haymitch your skill lied in spears and as you had come to find out knives, and it did but you weren’t sure you’d be able to practice that in front of the careers. Might as well get adept in other areas, your mind went to the bow.

 “Can we try the arrows?”

 “Why not, I’m sure you’ll knock it out like usual.” Peeta smiled at you, you couldn’t help roll your eyes and let out a small chuckle. You nudged him and headed towards the archery station. Unfortunately, you had done relatively well in most of the stations, but they were mostly the survival ones. The trap setting being your best one, but Peeta did much better at the hand-to-hand combat and swords. You remember how much it had irritated you because honestly the swords were heavy and awkward for you to deal with. You needed something lighter, its why you preferred the knives but the chances of getting them really were almost zero.

 Peeta went first with the bow, he managed to hit the dummy but not by much. He might be able to stop someone if he got his hands on it but he certainly wouldn’t kill them, unless he got lucky. You noticed the careers watching you as you lined up to practice, you suddenly began panicking about this morning. Maybe Marvel had seen more than he let on. Why were they so close? You tried to slow your breathing as you released your first arrow, definitely hit the chest of the dummy but it was going to the right. Again. Your head dropped in frustration, while strands of your hair had fallen loose around your face you could see Arioch and Glimmer laughing at something he said. Marvels head was tilted and he raised an eyebrow, almost daring you to miss again. Fine. You remember that you used to hate when people doubted you but after a while you realized that it was actually a kind of a good thing. You loved proving people wrong.

 “y/n we can just leave…” Peetas voice went in one ear and out the other as you nocked your bow and you readjusted your aim slightly to the left. Don’t overthink it you told yourself. Before Peeta could give you any other warning you drew your arm back and released that arrow. Finally. You shoot another at the head this time and it manages to land as well. You shoot another couple targets just for good measure all of your arrows now landing right in between where the eyes would be. Just like that day 2 of official training was over. Time to tone it back down.

 “Do you want to try anything else?” You ask Peeta.

 “Not much else to do.” He smiled at you, “Want to teach me how you did that? Or is that too much help?”

 You cursed yourself internally, cursed Peeta for being so likeable. You handed the bow over to him and told him to find his dominant eye, then you started restating everything the instructor had said. He got a little better, but not by much. Peeta had never had to scrape for food, he needed to be able to imagine the target was something that needed to be killed. You thought of game, animals. In a few days, you wouldn’t be able to pretend you were killing deer. After he had exhausted his archery skills Peeta asked to switch one last time

 “Hey, since we have about a half hour do you mind if we go back to the camouflage station?” You nodded and followed him, the two of you had just passed this station but Peeta had been really invested in it. He got straight to work on camouflaging his arm into a tree, if it wasn’t so infuriating it would be really impressive. Peeta had a lot more strengths than he had let on, and you wondered exactly how much he was sharing with you and Haymitch. You watched as he Peeta continued to blend his arm into different backgrounds, you had stopped trying a while ago, your fingers were too shaky whenever you tried. Your hands had to work with all at once, not deal with hyper precision. Its why you did well with the knots and knifes, it was quick no thought behind it, you could focus on other things.

 “You know I used to do the cakes.” Peetas voice snapped you out of overthinking, again.

 “The ones in the bakery? Those were always beautiful.” You commented, this seemed to satisfy Peeta enough that he didn’t need to talk any more. He smiled at your recollection of them. You hadn’t actually paid much attention to the cakes but your brothers always wanted to save for them, you thought the money you earned could be used elsewhere. Older sibling privileges won out most of them time, especially since there was no real need for cakes in 12. Few could afford cakes like the ones Peeta made. Anyways, he didn’t need to know how little you knew about him.

 As he finally finished and was washing up you looked around the other tributes. They were all getting tired, all of them focusing on the weapons. Ignoring Atalas initial brief, sure everyone touched the fire making but that was about it. Except maybe Rue and Thresh. But that was because Rue followed you to almost every station at first, today she stayed near Thresh for the most part unless he went to one of the big fighting stations then she would hang back and watch or depending on where you and Peeta were she would tag along. Rue made it easier to talk to Peeta, she was shy and for whatever reason Peeta was good at making her smile. Another reason killing Peeta was going to be difficult.

 Everyone filed out and you waited until Peeta went into his private quarters before sneaking back downstairs. You wanted to work on what you were going to show the gamemakers. The instructors were all gone and the room was finally empty. It was relaxing being able to practice without everyone around. You decided to pick up the bow and arrow again, you figured if you needed to try and get rid of someone from a distance. You shuddered at the thought of you planning it, these games were unnatural and you had to remember that.

 “You’re definitely making improvements 12.”

 You couldn’t whip around any faster you came face to face with Marvel again, he had a smirk knowing you’d been caught, and not to mention clearly freaking out. Before you could try and stammer anything out he held up his hand, effectively stopping you. You were furious at yourself for not being able to get it together.

 “Relax 12. We know about the extra practice.” We? All of the careers? Why weren’t they in here? He tilted his head when he looked at you, clearly confused. “District 2 gets a little too fight-happy their mentors wont even bring up the practice. I meant me and Glimmer.”

 “Don’t need the practice, I’m guessing?”

 He looked down for a second, he seemed almost…sad? Did he not think he had a chance to win? All he needed to worry about was Arioch, if he was smart he would get him during the bloodbath, when he was distracted. He might be able to play it off as someone else. He shook it off quickly and out of nowhere his confidence was back.

“I think Glimmer might benefit.” He shrugged, “Don’t you think?”

 “I’m not one to judge.” You stopped caring then, tomorrow would be the final day to really train before meeting with the gamemakers and you needed a good score. Besides if the careers knew about you anyway, it wouldn’t matter. You shrugged and grabbed another arrow and shot it at the dummy. You aimed for the head. It was close but not exact, how the hell did Katniss never manage to miss moving targets, you couldn’t even manage the ones that were still. You looked at Marvel who just raised his eyebrows, you desperately wanted to ask him for help but you knew that would get you nowhere. “Are you going to just stand there or are you going to pick something up?”

 “I don’t know yet. Seeing you frustrated is pretty entertaining.”

 You couldn’t help mocking him. A habit from messing with your siblings. But it did get a small laugh out of him, wouldn’t you know? The competition had a personality outside of the games.

“You want to try the combat station?” It was your turn to laugh

 “Yeah right, I got my butt kicked everytime. And we aren’t supposed to fight each other.” You say as you start racking the bow and arrow

 He clicked his tongue and threw me one of the sparring sticks. “Technically the rules say not to hurt any of the other contestants.”

 Your lips twisted as you took in this information. Would it make that much of a difference in the end? He had already seen you eat the ground with the trainers. You shrugged and followed him up to the mat. It took less than a minute before he had you pinned down.

“Ugh. Get off. I’m going to get my butt handed to me out there.” You said as you dusted yourself off, but made no effort to get up

 “Yeah you should really practice that.”

 “I hate you.”

 “Ooh ouch 12. Don’t be mad at me because you cant handle a fight.”

 “You’re how much bigger than me? And you’ve had practice, fuck off.” He chuckled and offered to help you up. You tentatively took his hand and got up. You took this moment to use you leg to trip and get him on his back, “Yeah you’re right I do need practice.” You smiled down at him.

 “That’s cheating.”

 “Ha!” You jumped off the mat and headed towards the elevator, “Theres no cheating in the hunger games.”

It was almost dinner when you got back to your floor. Thankfully no one was really around to see you come in, you didn’t feel like answering any questions. You focused the rest of the night on tomorrow. This is when it all counted. You knew Haymitch had told you to save your skills from any of the tributes, well that didn’t work. As far as you knew Marvel told the rest of the career pack what you had been doing. You were the first one at the table, again. Haymitch came in next and you couldn’t help but start worrying about what exactly to show the gamemakers. Haymitch assured you that you had nothing to worry about. You had begun planning what to actually do for the gamemakers when Peeta joined you. You felt but you got quiet, you needed to draw some kind of line between the two of you before the games started. You couldn’t let your feelings get in the way, and Peeta was way too nice.

 “What are you guys whispering about.”

 “Y/ns just nervous about tomorrow, doesn’t know what to do.” Thank God for Haymitch, it was like he knew exactly when not to say too much.    

 “Why, its not like she doesn’t have an array of weapons to choose from. You should have seen her with the bow and arrow today. Shes amazing.” Dammit Peeta.

 Haymitch raised his eyebrow at me, now you had to say something “And that sparring station was…what exactly? I was right from the beginning, if it comes to combat Peeta has a better chance than me. I ended up on the floor everytime.”

 “Well, I don’t know if you can fight anyone during the private sessions Peeta but now is when you want to pull all the stops. Everyone will be in the same training uniform tomorrow so don’t worry about making yourself look nice.” This got a chuckle out of both of us, “You two are going to be the last to go so make it count.”

 Effie had been listening to the whole conversation, which shocked you because she usually made quite an entrance. “You two are going to do just fine.” You weren’t exactly sure how much of that she believed but Effie was nothing if not polite. Her and Haymitch left to try and get information. Effie wanted to hear who people were leaning towards, as if she didn’t already know and try to sway them to look at us. Haymitch wanted to talk to the other victors, apparently they had somewhere they all gathered to watch the games and do whatever it is they did. You wondered if Cato would be there. He might have been willing to offer some more advice. Guilt hit you the second you had that thought, you didn’t want to use Cato for his advice. You genuinely enjoyed his company, he had just always been willing to help.

 You started walking to your room, you had to at least try and get some rest before the private sessions tomorrow. You noticed you were lagging, a part of you wanting to relax on the roof again. You noticed Peeta had stayed in the common area, he looked as if he was trying to sleep himself. In the end you couldn’t help yourself, Peeta had tried his best to be friendly, you may as well do the same.

“Everything okay?” You asked as you sat next to him

 “Just thinking about tomorrow I guess.”

 “You’ll do fine Peeta, you’ve done really well in the combat stations. Those are important.” The thought of you losing to Marvel flashes through your mind, it was the one thing you probably wanted to improve and just couldn’t seem to get the hang of.

 “What about the games? I’m not…I’m not cut out for them. You’re set, all you have to do is get your hands on some rope and you’ll outlive everyone. And if you get a hand on a weapon? You’ll win.”

 “I doubt that, I don’t have the practice for it.”

 “That’s not entirely true.” He smiled at you, he was right. You’re experience in the woods had given you a huge advantage, and it had allowed you to pick up a lot of new skills. Still, you didn’t dare get your hopes up. You needed to have your guard up.

“Y/n, you ever feel like you want to do something in these games?”

 “Just survive honestly.” Peeta chuckled

 “I don’t know I just hope that when I die I can still be me?”

 “What do you mean?”

 “I just don’t want the games to change me.”

 “How could you not though? Even the victors who didn’t have to kill anyone came out different. People have to die for you to win. How can you not change? I think it’s a package deal.”

 “Yeah….maybe.” You weren’t really sure what to say next, in the end the capitol wants to see a good show. You just nodded, you didn’t think he needed to hear that.

 “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

 Peeta usual cheerfulness seemed feigned at the moment, “Yeah, sleep well. We got a big day ahead of us.” Well now you had to go to your quarters. You tossed and turned most of the night. It seemed like you were about to finally close your eyes when Effie knocked on your door to get you ready. You felt like you were walking through some kind of mud just to get to the breakfast table. Your body sore from training the day prior. As much as you needed the energy you couldn’t seem to eat.

 “Come on sweetheart, nows not the time to be losing sleep. You’ll have plenty of time for that in the arena.”

 You weren’t sure where it came from but as your head slumped into the crook of your elbow your other hand shot up flipping Haymitch off.

 “Y/n!” Effie yelled

 “She’ll be fine today.” Haymitch chuckled, at the end of the day Haymitch liked your temper. He threw a roll at your head and your spirits were lifted enough to eat as much as your nerves would allow you, not that it was much but it was something. You and Peeta were mostly silent on the ride down to the training center. Everyone had until lunch. Those few hours were dragging. Besides the careers and a handful of others, the tributes were scrambling to get in any practice that might give them an edge in the private sessions. You were frankly too tired and sore to use any possible energy until it was time. You and Peeta had wasted some time trying to work on identifying different plants. A relatively easy task for you, Peeta not so much. Even Rue came by and giggled at his many wrong attempts, you were lucky Prim really had been willing to talk to you about all the different kinds of plants you could find in 12, it made things much easier to remember.

Lunch was pretty silent, minus the career table talking loudly about how well they were going to do. The warning that the private sessions about to start got everyones attention. The boys were up first. Marvel got called up first, getting some cheers from his table. His demeanor was so different than when it had just been the two of you. Then again, you shouldn’t be too surprised, his alliance took priority. You’d only seen him a handful of times. It only took him around 10 minutes before he was done and headed towards the elevators. You could have swore he looked at you for a second but you’d only just caught his eye as you lifted your head to hear Glimmers name called out. Her session seemed to take longer. Maybe it was just because your eyes were still fighting to stay awake. You decided to rest your head in your arms. Your head shot up as the girl from 10 went in.

 “Jesus y/n how late were you up last night?”

 “That’s a great question Im not sure I want you to know the answer to.”

 Peeta laughed, “Why not?”

 “You might tell Haymitch, or worse Effie.” You were only half joking, if they knew you really hadn’t slept all night you’d never hear the end of it. Effie would probably have suggested some kind of Capitol concoction to knock you out. You looked at Thresh and Rue sitting off by themselves, it was just the four of you left. You motioned towards them to Peeta before trying to break the ice again, “Good luck you guys.”

 Rue nodded, “You too.” Thresh had the ghost of a smile on his face. But he did a quick nod to you. And just like that he was called up. His session seemed to fly by and you were a nervous wreck, you wished rue luck again but you couldn’t stop shaking your leg in anticipation. Peeta tried to say something to you but you didn’t really hear him.

 “What?”

 “You’ll do fine.” He repeated, you nodded but your leg didn’t stop. Peeta put his hand on your leg and your attention was drawn away. His steady hand calmed you, if he was just playing a game he was doing a great job. Regardless, you appreciated his kind gesture. You patted his hand when his name was called, “Good luck, and don’t forget what Haymitch said.”

 He smiled at you as he went in. It was just you now, you and your thoughts. You hoped your aim wouldn’t fail you. You got called back before you could see Peeta come out. Besides the careers none of the other tributes had come back through, nothing to brag about I guess. Your heart sank to your stomach, the gamemakers couldn’t look less interested. They had been there too long, they were probably ready to go home. No, they were just ready for lunch, some food was being brought in.

 You cleared your throat to try and get their attention. “Uhm Y/n L/n. District 12.” Why did that last part sound like a question? One of the gamemakers told you to go ahead.

You decided to grab the arrows, you’d gotten much better at them. You managed to get a bullseye, well not exactly but it was close enough the gamemakers would think so. You got excited and went to grab the knives youd been practicing on your own. You threw them at the surrounding targets, it hit much more accurately. You wanted to do more maybe grab a spear next, it was your best chance at impressing the game makers you had thought but when you smiled and looked up you noticed that only a couple of the gamemakers were actually paying attention. Everyone else was focused on the pig that was being rought in. Your life was on the line and they couldn’t focus on you for another few minutes? Was lunch that important You grabbed another knife instead as you heard one of them wonder how they were going to cut into the pig. They had just finished setting the pig on the table when the knife left your hand. It landed above the apple and in between the pigs eyes. Suddenly all eyes were on you.

 “You guys need a knife for that?” You could hear the venom in your voice. “Sorry to disturb your meal.” You spun on your heel and knocked over a stand with a bunch of swords and spears on it on your way out. Hot tears began streaming down your face. You immediately regretted your actions, after all the work you’ve put in. Now you doubted if you’d even make it into the games. You stormed into towards the elevators, you passed District 1&2 hanging around the lobby. Thankfully no one glanced in your direction, the last thing you needed is for them to see you as weak and puffy. You wiped your eyes as you opened the elevator doors, you’d never wished these weren’t made of glass as much as you did now. You smashed the button for the door to close. You could feel a pair of eyes on you but you refused to look up and kept your eyes trained on the floor.

 The fresh air that once felt so refreshing and welcoming now felt like a slap to the face. But you felt like you would suffocate if you stayed inside any longer. You found yourself wishing again that you could talk to someone, and your mind flashed to Cato. God, why did he popping up? None of that mattered, you knew Effie and Haymitch were waiting for you but facing them felt worse than facing the hunger games at the moment, they had been trying to rally sponsors for you and Peeta. Now the gamemakers would give you such a low score no one would even look at you. You screamed into your hands, you just messed everything up. As you paced you found yourself knocking down and kicking any flower vases and making a mess. It did help the anger you felt but the guilt doubled when you thought of whatever poor avox might have to clean this up later. You tried, without much success to move all of the broken pottery shards but you started getting worked up again and decided to face Haymitch, it was almost dinner and they would be looking for you.

 “Y/n there you are! We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Effie wasted no time in fussing over you the second you stepped off the elevator.

 “I was just getting some air…” She led you to the table as you mumbled your excuse

 Cinna, Portia and the rest of your stylists were waiting for you, great. After the amazing job they did at the tribute parade, it just reminded you how much you had messed up. You could only imagine how puffy your face was, you thought about excusing yourself to go wash up but everyone was waiting on you to talk about the scores. You decided to sit next to Peeta this time

 As the adults start their small talk he leans over to whisper to you “You okay?”

 You shake your head, no point in hiding. It was clear to anyone you had not had a good day. You keep your eyes trained on the rolls you were nibbling on after that.

 As they start serving the main course Haymitch finally asks what you’ve been dreading, “Alright.” He says as he stands up to go to the bar to get some kind of spirit, “How bad was it?”

 Peeta goes first quickly saying no paid him any attention and he just threw heavy things until they eventually told him to leave. You avoided looking up at the rest of the team waiting for you to go next

 “And you, sweetheart?” Haymitch asked as he began pouring his drink, well theyre going to see your score sooner or later.

 “Well.” You tried to make it seem like a smaller deal than it was, it did not work, “The gamemakers said they needed a knife, and I helped them find one.”

 Everyone stopped eating. Even Haymitch though his back was turned was still, “And just what do you mean you helped them?” He asked you

 You sighed, “Well the pig they had ordered didn’t come with a kinfe and it seemed pretty important so I just…sort of, maybe” your voice dropped to a mumble “threw one at their direction.”

 Effie is first to break the silence, “You what???”

 “I mean I didn’t throw it at them, I threw at the pig. Since apparently that was more important than me trying my best to get a good score for sponsors.” You could hear the initial annoyance at their actions rising again, “I’m sorry… I just lost it, I was doing really good, or at least I thought I was and they wouldn’t even look at me!”

 “Y/n, what did they say?” Cinna asks carefully

 “I—I’m not sure. I left after that.”

 “You weren’t dismissed?” Effie looks as if she is about to pass out “Haymitch!” She turns to him looking for some help to scold me, I’m sure but Haymitch surprises even me when he just turns around with a smile and his thumb up.

 “Well Sweetheart, I know I told you to make an impression but that’s—that’s something.”

 “Will they hurt my family for what I did?” You voice must have sounded desperate because Haymitch patted your shoulder before he sat back down

 “I wouldn’t worry about that, theyd have to say what happened in there. Its supposed to be a secret, more likely than not they will try and make your life hell in the arena.”

 “Isn’t that already the goal?” You asked

 Haymitch shrugged, you’re glad he wasn’t upset at you. You had managed to work well to Haymitch and the last thing you wanted was to waste his efforts. He started chuckling to himself, “What did they do when you threw it?”

 All eyes were on you again, but everyones curiosity was piqued and you could feel a smirk growing on your face, “Its not supposed to be funny, but some of them were ridiculous. One of the men screamed like a girl and backed into someone else who fell into a punch bowl. The rest of them were mostly shocked.”

 Haymitch laughs harder than you’ve ever seen. The others are laughing into themselves, even Effie who is trying hard to not look at the table to hide her smile, “It serves them right. Their job is to pay attention to you and give you a decent score.” Her eyes grow wide and darts to the other capitol members at the table who thankfully for Effie nodded in agreement, still she said “I’m sorry but that’s how I think.” You remember how even out on the roof where the wind would pick up Cato was wary of saying anything. It shouldn’t surprise you that the capitol was always listening, the scary part was how scared a small opinion could make someone like Effie and more so a career like Cato. You wondered how they would feel about all the things you had to say. You tried to distract her by bringing the conversation back to your score

 “I’m not going to get anything higher than a 1.”

 Portia, Peetas stylist speaks up “Oh scores only matter if they’re really good. If anything it could be a strategy to do poorly. Some people have done that. And from what Haymitch has said that’s what the other tributes will think.” She reaches across the table to squeeze your hand.

 “Well why don’t we go to the living room? The scores will be getting televised soon!” Octavia clapped her hands together and began getting up. Regardless of what you would get, you were at least more relaxed about the outcome. Effie and Haymitch could spin something up about your low score if it came to it. Peeta is worried about his score thinking he will only get a four after just throwing around obe of the bigger weights around. At least you would be in this together.

 The capitol insignia flies across the screen, tonight everyone in every district will see the chances of all of their loved ones on live television. Today your family would see how you would fare against some of the careers. Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith begin excitedly talking about the games and how exciting it will be to see the scores we turn out. It irritated you, how this was seen so casually as nothing more than a game to these people. Your life was on the line and they were talking as if this was another news day.

 The careers scores all range from the eight to ten range. Not surprising. The rest of the tributes range across the boards. A few of the stick out, the girl from 5, Hana you think, getting a 2. The boy from 10 got a 9, interesting you thought, He had mostly kept to himself. Rue getting a 7, that was impressive, you tried to not be too happy for her, especially not in front of your team. Thresh pulled out a 10 as well also, not surprising. Finally, its Districts 12’s turn. Peeta’s face comes up on the screen. Everyone is silent before an 8 flashes across his face. Everyones starts congratulating him while your name and picture pops up on the screen, it was interesting seeing yourself. You looked so…serious? Initmidating? You weren’t quite sure. You braced yourself as the team began shushing and getting quiet to hear your score. Then after 5 excruciatingly long seconds you see the eleven pop up on your screen.

 Wait. An Eleven??

 Effie’s squeal breaks the silence suddenly everyone is congratulating you. The highest score out of all the tributes. Theres no way. You look at Haymitch as he claps your shoulder,

 “They must have liked your attitude. This is a show after all, they need some players that will make the games interesting.”

 “The girl on fire,” Cinna says as he gives you a hug, “Just wait until you see the dress we have planned for tomorrow.”

 “More pretend fire?”

 “You’ll see.” Cinna was entirely too excited for tomorrow. And whatever he had planned was going to make a statement. His mischievous smile told you everything you needed to know.

 When the adults stepped to the side you and Peeta were left facing eachother, your smile fading when you saw his expression but before you could ask anything he spoke “Congrats y/n.”

 After that he turned and left. You weren’t even able to congratulate him back. Was he upset you got a higher score than him? That wasn’t your fault? Not entirely anyways. You weren’t going to let this ruin your night, you had just gotten an 11. You could worry about Peeta another time. You retired to your quarters, finally cleaning yourself off. The tantrum you had thrown earlier had worn you out, but you were determined to go to bed refreshed. Refreshed and ready. Now you could just wake up and start training for the interviews. Since you had volunteered this was the first and last night (you assumed) of decent sleep you would get for awhile.

 You woke up feeling very refreshed the next day, you let your hair stay down since Cinna and the stylists would be in charge of it later. By the time Effie knocked on your door to tell you it was going to be ‘a big big day.’ You were out ready to step out and ended up being the first one at the breakfast table. You thought briefly about you would be doing back home, but besides setting up traps for the week with your brother there wasn’t much else to Sundays. Peeta and Effie joined you next. Peeta still seemed annoyed. You hoped he wouldn’t let it affect training. Haymitch barely had a minute to sit down before Peeta decided to clear his throat to speak up.

 “I think its time me and y/n trained separately.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

  Cato’s POV

 You were starting to get a headache. Arioch had been moaning non stop since last night. More like screaming and throwing a fit but now it had come down to moaning, both him and Clove were being insufferable. Everyone but you and Enobaria had stopped watching after District 4’s training scores. The year before you would have done the same, but you were interested in how the other tributes had done. Well, more like you wanted to see how District 12 had done You weren’t sure when you got so invested in their training. Especially y/ns, you had found yourself wondering how she was doing in training more often than not. You couldn’t really understand it. But you’d paid attention to whatever Arioch and Clove would debrief after practice. Apparently after egging her on she’d shown she was pretty adept at the bow and arrow. Which was interesting as she had never mentioned that, then again she had been careful not to reveal too much to you. It must have been pretty good if Arioch had said she had potential, he didn’t even talk that way about his own allies.

You saw the boy from 12 come up first, not bad with an eight. The competition was actually decently impressive, not that Arioch would know he wasn’t paying attention. Apparently y/n had endeared to Enobaria because she began shushing everyone when y/n’s picture came up on the screen. Thankfully everyone got quiet enough just as her score was passing through. While you usually kept a straight face even you couldn’t help your shock and Enobaria was now trying to cover her surprise as well covering her mouth with her hands.

That was the start of Arioch’s temper tantrum. Not only had y/n done well but she had the best score. Arioch crushed the glass he had in his hand and a slew of curse words came out of his mouth. While everyone tried to clean and calm him down you once again retreated to the roof, half hoping to see y/n there to congratulate her. What you found was a mess. The flower pots that decorated the roof were thrown and shattered all over the floor. Something had not gone well today.

Worse than that you felt anxious to see how y/n would do after that score. While it may have gotten her some sponsors, it also painted a huge target on her back. Not any more than the parade but now they knew she was a force to be reckoned with. The mentors were all about interviews tonight. Arioch as annoying as he was put on a good show. As he should because if anyone from the capitol saw he behaved he’d never get any sponsors, even his fake persona was boring the only thing he had in his favor was that he came from District 2. Clove was the same, but in a different way while Arioch tried to make himself look like a decent person Clove was determined to have everyone see her as vicious and some to be afraid of. You’d seen the other female tributes she didn’t have much to worry about.

The whole day was prepping your tributes on how to answer Caesars questions. Its mind numbingly boring. You found yourself tapping your leg as you counted down the minutes for the interviews to actually start. The mentors and stylists were lining up the tributes. Well, depending on how many mentors on a few of you actually got to go and do last touchups. You hung around with your babysitters just to see the ridiculous get ups they had put the tributes in. You had to look away from Rue when you had a flashback to your games. She was too young. District 12 came in matching again. Not exactly but they complimented eachother well, they were still going at this like partners. At least thats what their mentors were doing. For whatever reason you couldnt keep your eyes off of y/n her red dress complimented her tan skin beautifully. As the tributes walked past all of the mentors to stand in line she caught your eye and smiled at you. You werent sure how you felt about that.

Once Glimmer was called up the mentors all sat around a screen behind the stage. You sat next to Haymitch wondering if you could get something out of him.

“Looks like 12 has a chance this year.”

“Hmph. We’ll see how tonight goes first.”

“No chance on me knowing what she did to get that 11?”

“To be honest kid, we don’t know what she did to get that 11.”

You turned your eyes back to the screen.

As the tributes each hyped themselves up Haymitch began to try and get information out of you, “Where’d the sudden interest for our district come from?”

You shrugged, “I’d be interested to know about anyone who managed to score an 11 around here.”

The interviews were the same as always quick 3 minutes. One of the few visitors from District 11 came to steal Haymitch for a drink when their district came up. Rue interview was finishing as she asked everyone to not count her out, you thought about her score as well. A seven, not bad for someone so small, better than a lot of the older ones even, you wondered how she would have fared had she joined the games later. The guy from 11 was quiet refusing to answer anything Caesar asked, then it was y/ns turn.

She was quick to get up and greet Caesar.

“So, Y/n , the Capitol must be quite a change from District Twelve. What’s impressed you most since you arrived here?”  Caesar started easy with his question

“Oh the food easily.” This got a laugh out of Caesar and the Audience, “Can I tell you a secret though?”

“Of course you can!”

“I can’t stand your shoes, I barely made it up here and Cinna wants me to show you guys something but I’m pretty sure I’ll fall over.”

Caesar began laughing agreeing that they probably don’t have the events for those kinds of shoes in 12 . This seemed to set her off but she played it off by saying how she was determined not to fall. She stood up and she began to spin around, flames began engulfing her. You wondered if she had actually talked to Cinna about this, regardless the crowd was losing their minds. You could feel yourself struggling to swallow.

Caesar begged her to keep going but she really did seem dizzy, stating she should have removed the shoes after all. The capitol was eating her up. Had she not had such an impressive outfit with the tribute parade most of them would have fallen asleep by now, everyone would remember the ‘girl on fire.’

Caesar finished the interview with a more hard hitting question. Saying how touched he was to see her volunteer for that family. You felt Haymitch stiffen. They had practices this question.

“Well, both of our fathers were in this really bad mining accident and mine well—we were lucky he was able to make it out but the little girl, Prim, her and her sister lost their father. Her older sister and I are the same age and our families are so close I don’t know what she would do if she lost her sister. But to be perfectly honest, a part of me had been wanting to do this for my own family. My dad was still injured and we have counted on the extra tesserae from to get by a lot. If I won maybe my family could finally relax for awhile, I’d always been to scared to volunteer but when Prim was called and Katniss was screaming for her. It just felt like the right time, and it was my last chance to do something different with my life.”

The best lies always had some kind of truth to them. This. This was a good lie. You looked at Haymitch exhaling in relief before taking another shot of something. A lot of the crowd was tearing up. If the tributes didn’t think she would get sponsors before, they would now. She was already a threat in the game but now she could be unstoppable. You wondered what weapon she had impressed the game makers with again. Then you wondered why you seemed to take such an interest in her success or lack thereof in the games.

Caesar said a few more words to finish up her time and she exited the stage. Haymitch clapped his hands on his lap.

“Well that’s my cue.” Haymitch left to go greet her, maybe lead her to the waiting area with the rest of the tributes, or probably watch the last interview in their own rooms. Some of the other mentors from 2 stayed behind but most of them had gone to watch Arioch and Cloves cameras from the floor. You looked at Enobaria and she nodded for you to follow her. Usually you’d be annoyed at being told what to do but what else was there to do but wait for everyone to finish.

Most of the mentors were talking, you saw your other babysitter sitting on the couch and having a drink. The interview still playing, you sat down next to him.

“How’s he doing?” You asked

Brutus shrugged, “he hasn’t really been asked enough for me to tell.”

You came to find out it was because Caesar was waiting until the end to ask the best question. Baiting him to talk about someone he was interested in so Caesar could encourage him to win. Peers began talking about how he was pretty sure the girls weren’t interested.

“She have another fellow?” Caesar may have asked this to get him talking but one thing that tied the capitol people together was gossip.

“I don’t know, but there’s alot of guys interested in her.” The camera panned to the crowd many of them holding their hands over their hearts. District 12 was giving them a show. Caesar encouraged Peeta to win. Suddenly you heard a shush from your left. Brutus got invested when the poor guy said winning wouldn’t help his case. Enobaria stood behind you and Brutus as Caesar asked for more elaboration.

“Why ever not?” It was a good question, winning anyone desirable in your own districts. Realization hit you a second before Peeta answered one of his final questions. You could feel the rest of the mentors crowd the viewing area behind you.

“Well Caesar…she—she came her with me.”

It was safe to say it was a pretty collective shock. Most everyone’s mouths dropped. Both in that viewing room and in the crowd. Gasps filled the air. The camera panned over to y/n, who seemingly was just as shocked as everyone else. Her face was stunned and she quickly buried it into her hands, the camera panned back but you wouldn’t be surprised if she stayed like that the rest of the interview session. Caesar pitied him and gave even more praise to y/n, saying it would be hard to not fall for her. A part of you was agreeing.

Peeta wasn’t done working the crowds yet, “I wouldn’t be surprised if has even caught some other tributes attention.”

“You think so?” Caesar prodded, Peeta just shrugged. Caesar began to say what a shame they couldn’t bring y/n back up. Peeta finished shortly after, with Caesar wishing the best of luck and the crowd roaring with approval. You tried to see y/ns face as they had to stand for the captions anthem, her face had turned from a pretty obvious red to stone. Her eyes never left the floor and she walked so fast when they were told to leave it was almost a run.

Arioch was unsurprisingly throwing a fit when we got in the room. More broken glass everywhere, Jesus the mess he left in every room was absolute destruction. You wondered if any avoxes got in trouble for his whining.

“God. Shes SO annoying.” He screamed as a glass flew by your head. This guy. He was going to cause you to blackout one day and then everyone will be having issues. You had to leave on several occasions and twice this week Brutus had to sedate you when you tried to shut him up yourself.

“Seeing her spin makes me sick. Who does she think she is?” Clove added her arms crossed, “she’s an embarrassment to the games.”

“And then lover boy pulls that card??? Argh!” He grabs another glass from the table to throw against the wall.

You nudged Enobaria and she just nodded and let you leave. You slipped into your quarters until his screaming died down almost an hour later. Probably resting or trying to rest for the games tomorrow. Finally, the week was of feigning admiration for the games was over. The tributes weren’t the only ones with interviews. Most of the mentors were asked how they felt about the competition this year. Especially as last years victor you’ve had to pretend to feel as if everyone had a chance at least in front of the reporters. You made sure to remain impartial but say that you were confident in your district. You don’t know how Finnick wasn’t exhausted by it all and it was only your first year. You had hoped to avoid after last years incident but the capitol somehow buried or maybe purposefully forgot the news of you almost killing a civilian within your first few months back. You weren’t looking forward to the crowning ceremony. Having to pretend the winner would be living a fine and dandy life.

You decided to go to the rooftop, needing to calm yourself down. Again. Another part of you was hopeful, for what you weren’t that sure of. You felt something lift in you when you saw y/n laying across the bench again. Her arms were covering her face, you hope she wasn’t planning on doing that in the games.

“You know if you sleep like that in the games you’ll never make it.”

“Sleep sounds nice. But if they walk like you then I’ll be able to hear them from a mile away.” She slowly sat up and smiled at you. You sat down next to her.

“That was definitely one of the more interesting interviews.” You said as you sat down next to her

She rolled her eyes, and buried her head in her hands “It was a disaster.”

“You’ve gotten the attention of the capitol that’s a good thing.”

“Ha!” She flipped her hair back up, “the capitol and every tribute out there. I’m going to be the first one everyone tries to get rid of.”

You paused as you thought about it. If anyone felt close to what Arioch was screaming it certainly did paint a target on her, then again… “didn’t you get an 11?”

“That was a mistake. I shouldn’t have gotten that, but I was hoping I would be able to play it off and have people forget about it after the interviews.”

“I mean you kinda did, or Peeta did anyway.” The name set off a groan as she repeated her earlier action but this time she let herself fall accidentally leaning her head on your arm. Your body didn’t hide the shock well, you stiffened immediately

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to do that.” Y/n straightened up.

“It’s fine.” You chuckled, it wasn’t. But you were a good liar. What you didn’t like was that your brain was having issues forming any thoughts that made sense. “So, you wanna tell me what got you that eleven?”

She couldn’t help the grin that grew on her face, even as she looked away to hide it it was clear that she had done something she was not supposed to.

“All I can say is your…uhm throwing lessons helped me out.” The knife thing? What exactly had she done to be more impressive than clove? She saw you trying to figure it out, “You can ask Haymitch once I’m out of the games.”

“You could win.”

“Not likely now that everyone assumes me and Peeta are going to be working together.”

“Weren’t you guys going to do that anyway? Isn’t that you guys were always together?”

“No! He even asked to not train with me after the private sessions. And I wasn’t planning on working with him at all. Why get attached when only one person makes it out?”

Made sense I guess, “and the whole ally thing?”

“I mean you all go in knowing it won’t last, but Peetas stupid lie messed that up.”

“There’s no way he’s lying.”

“Yes he was, we talked about who he liked while we were training together. He said he knew I was the only one who was going to get sponsors and he needed attention on him. Haymitch said it was a good thing because it made ‘desirable’ but I don’t want to worry about pretending I have feelings for him. I mean—“ her eyes widened “I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I was just talking your ear off. You’re really easy to talk to.”

“You’re probably the only person who thinks that.” She just shrugged. You knew she would have to go back soon. Probably at least try to get some sleep. Unfortunately you felt the same about her, she was one of the only people you actually wanted to talk to. “Did you see the damage that happened out here the other day? Someone made a mess out of Al the stuff up here.”

You knew it had been her but you still wanted to see how much she was willing to say, “don’t remind me. I felt so bad i was trying to clean up and I think I made it worse. That was after the gamemaker sessions.”

“You thought it went that bad?”

“They weren’t even looking at me. You guys are lucky going early, but I was the last one. Almost all of them were looking at the lunch that had just been brought in.”

You never knew the other districts had that kind of disadvantage. You assumed the game makers took turns or something. I guess you never even really cared beforehand. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”

“Still if that had happened during my session…I don’t know what id do.” You paused because you knew exactly what you would have done. You would have thrown a fit worthy enough to match Ariochs.

“Yeah it’s not great. But somehow I guess I got their attention.” You could she was hesitant.

“Nervous?”

“Terrified.” She said as she looked up at the stars. “Anyway enough about me, what about you? Still can’t sleep?”

“Hard to sleep when all I hear is Arioch complaining.”

“He is very…determined.”

A laugh escaped you, “yeah I guess you could call it that.”

You met her eyes, you could see she knew there was more to it. Maybe she didn’t want to know the actual answer but she didn’t push. The fireworks had been going off but you didn’t notice it until the last one illuminated the sky signaling everyone to go home.

She sighed, you both knew it was time to get up. Still, neither of you loved for a moment. “We should probably try and get some sleep huh?”

“You? Definitely.” She chuckled at your response. You intended to get up and start heading to the elevators but you stood up too quickly almost knocking y/n over . You grabbed her arms before she fell over the bench. She gripped on to the side of your shirt sleeve to try and catch herself. You pulled her back way too hard. It couldn’t have been more than a couple seconds but you stood her up to close to you. Her face face looked up at your and was inches away. You both noticed you were still holding eachother at the same time. She released your sleeve and patted your arm.

“Sorry. I wasn’t trying to—“

“It’s okay.” She smiled as she took a step back “probably should have waited to stand up.”

You could feel your cheeks burn. Probably bright red. You assumed at your mistake. You weren’t usually so careless with your actions. You could feel your heart running in your ears.

“You coming?” She said as she pressed button on the elevator. You just nodded and got in with her. Her floor almost immediately stopping, she slightly bowed her head and smiled again as she got out. You wish you could have answered those interviews honestly. If you could get on a tribute it would be her. You thought about telling her that. The doors would start to close soon,

“Hey 12.” She turned around immediately, the doors coming to a close “I hope you can make it back.”

Her eyes seemed sad, it was clear she thought her chances really were next to zero. Still she offered one last smile, “me too.”

Taglist: @chloe-skywalker

[everlarkism]

how about a prompt where katniss does not begin to care for herself again after peeta returns to 12 at the end of mockingjay and after a few days he is desperate to help her so he takes her upstairs and gives her a bath? make as intimate or not as u plez

I am so happy a lot of you are sending them in. Other prompts will be posted when I have the time to write and upload them. Don’t worry, I didn’t forget about anyone’s! I’ve decided to try first person with this. I don’t do that often. Excuse any typos or if this is all over the place, I started typing this up at like 5AM since I was so excited to write something wholesome. It’s kind of rushed too, so it’s not my best work. Enjoy!

I know he doesn’t like seeing me like this. He never liked seeing me upset, period. But I’m not upset, I’m depressed and he obviously knows it.

Returning to Twelve was a blessing and a curse. It’s a relief that I came back to the place I call home, but it’ll never be the same. The Victors Village was still intact, but everything else had to be built again. My childhood home is demolished. Primrose is dead. Mom moved to another district, so did Gale. Haymitch was here and so was Greasy Sae who would frequently check up on me before Peeta’s arrival. That woman would even drag her young granddaughter along… I’m aware Sae wanted to help, but I don’t like feeling as if I’m a burden to anyone.

I’m a fighter, I’ve been doing this for years. Why should I let anyone help me now? I can do this all by—

“Katniss.”

I’m quiet as I sit on the couch, running my fingertips against the cushion to ease my nervousness. I’ve been avoiding eye contact with Peeta from the moment he walked inside. It’s been around two weeks since he came back from the Capitol, and I’m surprised he’s not like me.

Distant. Suicidal. Neglecting basic needs. Hasn't stepped foot outside in days.

Maybe it’s the therapy, Haymitch told me about it a day or two after he arrived. But that doesn’t mean he’s magically cured, or whatever. Peeta’s bound to have his episodes, regardless of how much treatments he’s had. At least they’ll be manageable. I know I should be doing therapy but I’ve been avoiding Dr. Aurelius at all costs.

“Katniss…” Peeta calls out again.

A heavy sigh escapes my lips as I lift my head. He didn't need my reply to continue talking, all he wanted me to do was look at him.

“You can’t stay in the house forever.” He said, taking a step closer and gesturing to the couch,”You don’t move from that spot either. Come on, you have to do something.”

I furrowed my eyebrows and shook my head,”No, I don't. I’m fine with what I’m doing.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s healthy… We can start small, okay?”

“We?” I repeat.

“Yes, we’re doing this together.” He nods,”Because-”

I cut him off, deciding to finish the sentence,“That’s what you and I do. Protect each other.”

A smile can’t help but to form on my face. He remembered.

“And that’s what we’ll continue doing.” He replied, making his way over to the couch and sitting beside me. His hand reaches over and rests on top of mine. “I care about you, Katniss and I want to be here for you in any way that I can… If you let me.”

Silence lingers between us for a few moments, until I finally make up my mind. I can’t push him away, we both know that - he would continue to try and help me anyways. “Okay, I’ll allow it.”

He leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. “I’ll run you a bath, go eat something if you haven’t already.” Without another word, Peeta stood and walked upstairs to the bathroom.

There was already an urge to say something, to forget the whole idea and tell him I could run my own bath if I needed to… But we both know I wouldn’t. If he didn’t show up, I’d still be on this sofa, reeking of body odor and starving.

I sigh, pushing myself up from the couch and making my way into the kitchen. Buttercup was there, munching at the food in the metal bowl. Once the cat noticed my presence, he meowed.

“Yeah, I know. I have to eat too.” I roll my eyes. Cats can’t talk, obviously - but I swear Buttercup knows what goes on and scolds me.

I walk to the cabinets and decide on making a sandwich. It’s better than nothing. I slather peanut butter and jelly onto the two slices of bread then sit down to eat.

I took my time with eating, since it takes the tub a while to fill up. After I’m done, I head upstairs and as I’m making my way down the hall - the water is being shut off.

I lean in the doorway with my arms crossed over my chest, watching Peeta stand from the crouching position. He’s a bit awkward at times, but it isn't his fault. The prosthetic leg tends to make things more difficult. Over the years, he’s been better with it. When he turned around, he gasped and took a step backwards. I couldn’t help but to chuckle, I didn't mean to scare him.

“Sorry.” I mumble.

“It’s okay. I was going to come get you, but you’re here now.” He lets out a small laugh.

“Thank you, by the way.” I reply as I move past him. I looked over to the bathtub, and not only was it filled with water but there were bubbles too. “Seriously, bubbles?”

Peeta shrugs,”What? It might cheer you up a little.”

He was right. Peeta always knew what to do or say so I could feel better.

I remain silent and stare at the bathtub. I was drained as it is, even making a sandwich was hard enough. I bit the inside of my cheek before refocusing my gaze onto the blond boy. “Could you help me? Unless, that’s weird– I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, or anything.”

I blurted out the last sentence, since I was on edge. I didn’t want to make this weird for either of us.

“I promise, it’s not.” He shakes his head,”I don’t mind.”

He continued to reassure me as he helped me undress. Once the last piece of clothing comes off, I quickly get into the tub as Peeta looks away. I caught a glimpse of his face and it’s obvious that he’s blushing. To be fair, we were both nervous… I’ve only seen his body once, in the first Games by the river. That was it. Him, on the other hand, hasn’t seen my body at all.

I just wish he didn’t have to see my body like this - the scars, the skin grafts, the damage done after all of these years. I look more like a mutt than a human being. Hell, I look worse than him. However, that’s another thing we have in common now: Earning scars that will tell a story of how we got here.

The water was warm, it even smelled of lavender. He must’ve found the oils in the cabinet. I never bothered with messing with those. Luckily they’re being put to use now. Slowly, I leaned back and sunk down into the water until it was to my collarbone. My eyes flutter shut as I dwell in the moment. “This is nice.” I whisper.

When I sit up, that’s when Peeta rolls up his sleeves and kneels near the tub to reach for the shampoo bottle. He put a small amount into his hand and began to run his fingers through my long locks. My hair isn’t in the best condition, thankfully not matted as it used to be but it still has some bad knots. He’s gentle, taking his time with applying the shampoo and rinsing it out. I swear Peeta even hums a tune while doing so. A giggle escaped from me and he paused.

“What?” He furrowed his brows.

I shake my head with a grin,”Nothing.”

Next was the conditioner and as it sat in my hair, we moved onto bathing. He already has the cloth, so I hand him the bar of soap.

“I feel like a child… Maybe, I should’ve done this myself.” I admit with a laugh as he starts to clean my face and behind my ears.

“There's nothing wrong with asking for help.” He chuckled,”I don’t mind, Katniss.”

“But Peeta, I just feel like-”

He replies before I could even finish my sentence. “No, you’re not a burden. This isn’t a chore to me, either. I want to be here for you.” Using his free hand, he manages to pick up a small amount of bubbles and place it on my nose,”Even if it means giving you a bath.”

“Hey!” I exclaim, wiping them off with a smile.

“That’s what you get.” He teased me.

“Don’t make me splash you.”

“You wouldn’t.” He rolls his eyes playfully.

“Oh, but I would!” I pretend to get ready to splash Peeta and he leans back instantly. I can’t help but burst out in laughter. “You should’ve seen your face.”

He laughs along with me,”I seriously thought you were going to do it.”

After the little trick I pulled, he continued to bathe me with the washcloth. Every once and a while, I’d threaten to splash him again or pull him into the tub with me. Peeta got his so-called payback by splashing me instead… As if I'm already not covered in water.

When our antics come to an end, Peeta rinses my hair and I step out of the tub, soon wrapped in a towel he brought me.

“You reek of lavender.”

“Better than body odor.” I giggle.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Peeta chuckles. “Now, let’s go get you dressed, shall we? Maybe I could try braiding your hair?”

“You, braiding my hair? In your dreams.”

“Fine, but one day - you’ll have to teach me… Deal?”

“Deal.”

[itcanbegoodagain]

What I would want Peeta to say and do to me if I was Katniss, is how I think this deserves to be summed up.

Word Count: 1971

Rating: 18+. Mature, but not explicit. Sexytimes after the break.

Sliding down into the tub, I allow the sweet smell of the soap to engulf me, my eyes falling shut as the warm water creeps up my skin. My aching muscles relax, the tension seeping out of them as quickly as it appeared. The first week or two of hunting in the snow is always harder than I’m anticipating it to be. But I’ll be just fine.

I know Peeta’s home when I hear his gait on the creaking, wooden stairs. Deciding to stay put, I wait for him to find me in the bathroom. He’s home a little early today. Oh, lucky wife am I.

And, truly, I am. There is no better man out there than Peeta. So when he gently knocks on the door, I smile to myself. “You can come in.” My head falls back to rest on the lip of the tub, providing me with a better vantage point to see him.

The door pushes open slowly, and Peeta steps through, shutting the door behind him. Not necessary, since we’re the only ones that live in this house. But no complaints here. Just observations.

“Hi baby,” he says, leaning back against the counter and folding his arms across his chest. There is a slight uptilt to his lips, one that usually indicates a particular line of thinking. I wonder what I’m in for.

I take this chance to stare at him, lazily moving my gaze head to toe, as I know he is sizing me up, too. I avoid the urge to shift my legs together too soon, anticipating the exquisite touch of his hands that’s sure to come.

He’s wearing his normal dark-wash trousers, a long-sleeved shirt in lieu of his usual attire. The tip of his nose is just the littlest bit red. The snow gets to bakers, too, then. Briefly, I wonder what the cold of his nose would feel like while his lips make their way up my thighs. I do know how his body feels, though, as I take in the way his shirt hugs in all the perfect places.

“Hi baby,” I repeat back softly, not wanting to raise my voice too much for fear of bursting this liminal moment we’ve created. It could go very different ways. I know which way I want it to go, and if I know anything about him, I know what he wants, too.

Neither of us moves to break eye contact. Peeta does, however, slowly peel off the counter, walking around the end of the tub to kneel on the ground next to me. His arms rise up to rest on the edge, his fingertips barely brushing the water.

We haven’t lost eye contact this entire time, so when he licks his lips and says what he does next, I am malleable. Pliable. Putty, in his hands only.

“You look very beautiful today,” he says. Normal words, predictable words, but the way he says it - the way he looks at me as he says it - mouthwatering.

Desperation. That’s the thing in my throat that won’t let any other words get out. Desperation to touch, to be touched, which I can see reflected in Peeta’s face, the slight trembling of his fingers.

“You know, these bathrooms really are too large. Look, I take up only half the tub!” I tell him.

He grins. “I have to disagree. There’s only room for one kickass woman in the tub.”

I hum. Trail my fingers, dripping warm water, through my hair. “Too bad. That kickass woman was hoping she’d have someone come join her.”

This is what really catches him. His voice, usually honey-sweet, is strained, just enough to be noticeable. “In that case, I think I might know someone.”

I take a deep breath, surveying him for another moment. “Well, tell him to come my way.”

With that in the air, he finally, finally kisses me. Kisses me with the force of someone who’s been holding back just long enough that they’re about to splinter. His fingers, the tips wet from resting in the water, find their way into my hair, his thumb tilting my head up beneath the chin. Already, he is biting and tugging at my lip with his teeth, which is one of the things he’s best at. Or maybe I just like it.

The kiss is both quenching and provoking. Yes, I finally can taste the love and lust on his lips, but it only makes me want him more. That’s how it works with us. Has since basically day one, though I was blind to it for a while.

Peeta stops for a moment, close enough that we are still sharing the same air. “How can I help you, my dear?” he asks, voice more rattled than before, as one of his hands dips into the water. His fingers find and, gently, scratch along the sensitive skin at my knee. I shiver, despite the warm water. He grins, noticing the gooseflesh that’s appeared on my skin at his mere touch.

A sharp intake of breath fills my lungs, and it takes me a moment to answer. “First, you’re in an unfair amount of clothes.”

He nods his head, pulling his arm out of the water to grab the hem of his shirt and yank it off, the cuff damp where the water had almost reached the sleeve after he rolled it up. His trousers quickly follow, though his undershorts stay on for now. “What else?”

In response, I stand up, careful not to send water pouring over the edge. Peeta stands as well, reaching over to grab a towel and stepping closer to wrap it around me. His hands pause on my shoulders, holding the towel in place around me. He raises his eyebrows. Next?

I send him the best, most flirty smile I can muster. It's never been my strong suit. Then I remove the towel, allowing him to keep it. The moment he realizes my intentions, it’s discarded to the floor, easily and gladly forgotten. In his eyes, I can tell he wants to touch me, desperately, but I make him wait just a little longer.

He makes a sound in the back of his throat, one of such need and desire, that it sends a flash of pride through me. Turning a man on is so much more fun than I ever thought it could be. It makes you feel powerful, even if it’s just one person for one moment.

But with Peeta, there are so many moments like that. He praises, he worships me, but it’s never over the top. It is always in the actions: letting me fall asleep in his lap, leaving breakfast on the table, placing kisses along my skin after I have been well and truly tumbled. Doing as much as he can to please me. Yes, indeed. I am a lucky wife.

After I’ve planted myself on the bathroom counter, the edge lining up dangerously with the part of me that is Peeta’s next destination, he is on his knees again. He begins his ministrations slowly, each brush of his fingers or lips on my skin like an electric shock. My skin is so, so sensitive, and he is so, so gentle. There’s nothing better.

By the time he reaches my knees, he has scooted closer, his shoulderblades now between my legs to give him the proper access he requires. Each touch of his mouth to my skin makes it harder not to move, but I try my best. As he nears the top of my thighs, he takes one leg and throws it over his shoulder, carelessly, I would say, if it were anyone else.

“So,” he begins, frequently pausing to occupy his mouth in less talkative ways, “there is so much time left, so many things to do.” His tongue traces a thin line up the most sensitive part of my inner thigh. I gasp, eyes falling shut, hips beginning to squirm. One of his hands pushes back on my hipbone, his fingertips pressing into the skin just hard enough to leave marks. Marks for him to see, later. Maddening. “Where shall I begin?”

I realize, maybe two seconds too late, that he is genuinely asking. “Katniss, baby,” he continues, his rough voice sounding heavenly from between my legs. “Tell me how to help.” To emphasize his point, he flips my other leg over his shoulder, effectively trapping himself between and beneath me.

I gasp again, trying to get the words out. In a moment of clarity, I’m able to string together these words: “Kiss me.”

He hums, running his hands over my hips, back and forth. “From down here?”

Smartass. “Not on my lips,” I manage.

He grins, a fiercely boyish grin that I sometimes forget he’s capable of. “I see. Well, since you asked so nicely…”

I choke out a laugh. “Right. As if you didn’t come home with it already in mind.”

He laughs too, but doesn’t allow it to linger for long. “You got me there.” He says this one moment, and the next, his face is hidden and his mouth and tongue are doing such extraordinary things, and, god, his nose -

Well. I hit the nail on the head with that one.

My fingers curl into his hair, urging him on as I push him closer. I can feel his grin, so I give a sharp tug on the hair I have in hand as recompense. This pulls another sound out of his throat, a gasp out of his mouth. Both feel lovely, situated where he is. So I continue to pull at his hair when he needs some humbling.

It's breathless, it's wonderful, it's only the beginning. I'm trembling, grateful to be sitting, as he makes his way up my body. Lingering kisses on my hips, along my stomach, up my chest. He stays at my neck for a while, paying particular attention there, surely leaving behind bruises that can easily be covered by a turtleneck in this cool weather.

--

A good chunk of time passes before I'm able to drag his lips back to mine, feeling like I might die if I don't get to kiss him right this second. He happily obliges, as he knows that he is good with his mouth. In several different regards. But who's keeping track? Certainly, certainly not me.

My hands, itching to touch his skin, smooth down his shoulders, wrapping around his back, pulling him even closer. Now, he is standing again, my legs circling his waist. Our bodies are pressed together at their most intimate places, though his undershorts are still on. Slowly, I run one of my hands down his side, making sure to take my time, before sliding the tips of my fingers below his waistband. I don't move them, I don't try to take his boxers off, I just let them rest there. Let Peeta give me this incredulous, sex-addled smirk.

"Yes?" I ask. "Is there something wrong?"

"Oh, no, nothing like that. I'm just thinking..." he trails off for a moment, leaving me to fill in the blank. "Well, you know, it's not only the tubs that are too big for one person. The showers are, too. Haven't you noticed?"

Tapping my chin, I pretend to ponder his question. "Truly? I haven't. Do you care to show me?"

He swoops in for another kiss, this one full of teeth and lips and pressure. He steals my breath away. "Gladly," he says, grinning, hauling me off the counter.

With a quick turn of the knobs, the warm spray of water begins falling from the shower head, and, truthfully, there is no way to describe what happens next. No way to describe it other than really, really good sex.