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#protective effie
ellanainthetardis · 2 years
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Prompt : I offer you a prompt in the form of a plot twist: Haymitch is going into the arena with Katniss for the 75th games. No fake baby bomb for Katniss, but Effie tells him she's pregnant before he leaves
You know I HAD to do it. It’s too good to resist for long XD The title comes from the song “You” by Keaton Henson that kept popping up when I was writing it.
My Life’s Best Part
Effie’s staring at him, dumfounded, and Haymitch can’t help but think he should have listened to Chaff and not waited until the last moment to unload everything on her. But even now that he’s told her, he still doesn’t think it’s a good idea to tell her anything at all. He still doesn’t think…
“I wouldn’t have told you any of it.” he adds with a wince, turning away from her and crossing the short distance to the roof’s hip-high wall. They waited until the children came back down to sneak up there, to have their own moment – a moment that isn’t about desperately fucking each other in her room, too aware that it probably will be the last time. The roof is quiet outside of the distant clicking of the wind chimes she hang there a couple of years ago, the rush of the city spreading at their feet has long become background noise he barely even registers anymore. “If I had a choice I wouldn’t have told you any of it.”
None of the rebellion. None of the plan. None of it.
READ MORE on ff or HERE on AO3
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euphorial-docx · 1 year
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i like to think james’s hair wasn’t always messy like his mom would force that kid to sit down and have his hair done until he was deemed old enough to do it or not do it for himself. and obviously at school he’d just let it be messy lmao
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daddyhausen · 1 year
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effy is the king of wrestle tumblr now.
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wannabeemoprincess · 11 months
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happy Pride month but also happy birthday Effy
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valentinesparda · 19 days
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I want to talk about the marriage between noah and effie and the effects it has on vayne but to do that I have to elaborate on the relationship between the emperor and effie and to do THAT I have to headcanon drace a family and how she became a judge and I ALSO have to fill in the gaps in noah's history. kms kms kms kms
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killmymind · 11 months
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i know i’m like. 5 years late. but carl’s death is the most heartbreaking shit i’ve seen in a while fawk
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ecstarry · 25 days
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humbling requesting single dad james with regulus hcs 🙇
this is adorableeee!!!
I have a soft spot for age gap jeggy sooo for me it's always james a bit older, extra points if he already has some grey hairs here and there
James is the kind of dad that carries his son on one arm and everything else on the other arm likes it's NOTHING, all potter men are like this!!!! monty was the same
Okay James is usually very protective of who takes care of Harry but with Reg he felt sooo comfortable leaving them alone
Regulus NEVER uses a baby voice to talk to Harry!!!! they have lovely conversations even when Harry is a small baby who barely makes sounds. My Reg is making sure that baby will be SMART AND WELL SPOKEN
REGULUS PLAYS MUSIC FOR HARRY AND COMPOSES NEW SONGS ON THE PIANO FOR HIM AND EVERYTHING
James sings a lullaby that Effie used to sing to him when he was a kid and Regulus learns it so he can sing it to Harry if he's ever upset and James isn't around
Harry CLINGS to Reg's finger and REG LOVES IT AND MELTS BUT JAMES FEELS LIKE CRYING EVERYTIME HE SEES THAT
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addsalwayssick · 4 months
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“Go fish.” Remus scoffed at James. James sighed and grabbed a card from the deck.
“Got any 5’s?” Sirius asked Peter. Peter groaned and handed his 5s over.
Sirius grinned at him. He sat back in Remus’s lap, who had an arm protectively around him. “3s?” Remus asked Sirius.
“Go-“
There was a careful knock on the door. It was quiet, almost as if it were barely there. James looked at everyone. “I’ll get it I suppose.” He said, getting up from his spot on the floor.
He opened the door carefully. “Hello-“ He started, before swinging the door open. Sirius began growing worried as James sat there with his mouth agape.
“James who is?” Remus asked.
James, who was shaken out of his trance by a small, shy voice that he would have never expected from the type of person he was say; “It’s fine, I’m sorry, i’ll go.”
“Wait!” He called, grabbing his hand. “Regulus, come in.”
Sirius immediately got up and went to the door. “Reggie?” He said. He looked at the blood he was soaked in.
“James who is it?” Effie Potter called down from the stairs.
“It’s Regulus, mum!” James called.
Effie came running down the stairs, a hand covering her mouth when she saw him. “Oh you poor dear, let’s get you cleaned up.”
“You’re staying.” Sirius told Regulus.
“I will if they are alright with it.” Regulus retorted.
And James was so happy he didn’t even realize that Regulus’s gaze lingered on James for longer than normal.
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futurecorps3 · 11 months
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Jamie Potter with his busty reader who dresses in short clothes. James being jealous? James bragging? Who knows.
𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐲!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
Masterlist<3
MINORS STAY AWAY I'LL BLOCK EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU, THIS IS +18!!!
See also… All marauders versions in my marauders masterlist<3 (Sirius’ is up!!!)
oh my god I love this concept!!! BIG TITS FOR THE WIN.
-My man is INSANE about them.
-I mean, especially if you like wearing short/revealing clothes like yes please
-Buries his face in them for suuuuure
-The others think it's disgusting (they're SO jealous), probably yell things like "oh James, not again" or "get a bloody room you two!"
-"You wish you could have something like this Pads", muffled because he's too busy suffocating on them. He’s right.
-Always respectful tho!! If it makes you uncomfortable and prefer to do it in private or not at all he’ll understand
-He is obsessed with them, yes, but Effie raised a boy with manners and there is no way in hell he’d touch you if he knows it’s making you uncomfy
-James brags RESPECTFULLY.
-Someone makes a comment about how hot their partner is? smug smirk, looks towards you.
-If he notices one of his friends staring, he looks them up and down knowingly and they immediately stop
-That man has an INTENSE death stare
-I feel like he just worships you in many ways and those massive boobs just add to the mix
-James gets protective but not jealous I think!!
-Like maybe if he sees someone staring too much, he’d offer his jumper or put an arm over your shoulders if you don’t feel like wearing anything else
-Just thought of him coming back from Quidditch practice, all burnt out and just
-“Hi baby! How was practi-“ “Missed you, missed m’girls” and straight up just lifts your shirt and stays on them while you play with his hair until he feels recharged.
-OF COURSE THE BOYS HAVE WALKED IN ON YOU GUYS WHEN IT GETS SPICY AFTER HE BURIES HIS FACE LIKE WHAT DID YOU EXPECT
-“YOU ABSOLUTE PIGS, MERLIN!” -Padfoot
-Buys you tank tops, crop tops, dresses with pretty cleavage and such, all in your favorite colors
-booooy you’re getting SPOILED
-“Jamesie darling, thank you! But what’s the occasion?” You say, opening the small bag containing three crop tops with different lengths of cleavage, “Do I need an occasion? The occasion is you’re gorgeous, okay? Now go try ‘em on!”
-Hehe, I’ve always thought my man loves a nice set of lingerie so you can guess how that goes
-All these don’t compose your relationship, it’s just a part of you guy’s dynamic!!!
-So basically, yeah, he’s obsessed.
-He’d die a happy man if your tits end up suffocating him <3
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WHEN LITTLE BROTHERS TAKE CARE OF THEIR OLDER BROTHERS 🥹😭. REGULUS TAKING CARE OF SIRIUS WILL ALWAYS BE MY ONE WEAKNESS. TELLING SIRIUS HE'S ENOUGH AND THAT HE'S SO PROUD OF HIM. TELLING SIRIUS THAT HE'S DOING SO WELL. REGULUS TELLING SIRIUS HE'LL PROTECT HIM (and maybe he does as he's promised when he chooses to stay behind.)
When regulus washes his hair on bad days.
When regulus patches him up on bad days.
When regulus tucks him in on bad days.
When regulus cooks breakfast for him on good days. When he sneaks him food when he refuses to eat at the table.
When regulus helps him pack for hogwarts.
When, at 10 years old, Regulus is so, so confused about his brother's sorting. Because they keep telling him Sirius did the wrong thing. That he may as well not be a Black. But when he sees his brother, he can't, for the life of him, understand why he wouldn't still be his family. At Sirius' first night back, he tells him, "I'm not sure what happened at your sorting, I'm so confused Sirius! But you'll always be my big brother. If—" he hesitates, "If that helps..." And Sirius thinks, maybe, maybe he can survive this — this house, their parents, their scorn and disappointment — so long as he has his brother with him.
When, after sirius leaves, regulus packs the rest of his brother's belongings and sends them off to the potter's.
Sirius cries the night he runs, failing to answer Effie's questions, 'Do you want us to call a relative? Do you have family members who can take care of you? We'd love to take you in, you've always been our kid, you hear me? But if you want to call someone else, we'll make sure to call them.'
But the only person who ever really took care of him was his brother. Regulus, his reggie, who chose to stay behind. Who pushed him towards the floo when he tried grabbing for him.
"No, there's no one to call," and he breaks down in his mother's arms. Hating the way Effie's healing magic feels so different from his brother's.
*wow, i can't seem to stop writing about the black brothers. here, have some more.
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ellanainthetardis · 2 years
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One Day
The moment Finnick stepped a foot into the penthouse, Effie was on him, fussing like a mother hen, making strangled noises and smoothing the creases of his shirt like it was the most important thing in the world.
Haymitch shared a look with Chaff, rolled his eyes and gently but firmly steered her away from the boy. If the other senior victor from Four was to be believed, Finnick was black and blue – and Stella wasn’t prone to exaggeration, except where Brutus was concerned…
“You’re okay, kid?” he asked, a little worried.
He kept a firm hold on Effie’s arm because she looked like she wanted to fly right back to the boy and check him over again. For the most part, Finnick looked fine except for a stitched up gash over his eyebrow that hopefully wouldn’t leave a scar.
READ MORE on ff or HERE on AO3
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𓆩[in our next life || II]𓆪
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𓆩[masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[next part]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[join the taglist!]𓆪
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𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Finnick Odair x Fem! District 4 Victor! Reader
𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut, slight angst
𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 4.1K
𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - Peeta and Katniss weren’t the first to fall in love after the games. That title went to you and Finnick, your mentor after you were Reaped at the age of fifteen two years after Finnick. After being dragged back into the Games with the Quarter Quell, you both are determined to stop it, no matter what- especially if one of you would gladly sacrifice themselves for the other.
𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - baby bombs (not literally like Gale) || talks of getting pregnant || thoughts of having a baby || reader is like extremely sex positive || Katniss is a bitch at first || Haymitch is lowkey in love with you, but like nicely but like romantically if that makes sense (he thinks you're super hot) || you lowkey hit on Katniss and Peeta || of course cursing and such || smut warnings, being walked in on, Finnick feels guilty during sex, breeding kink, dom! Finnick, sub! reader, degradation and praise, name calling (whore, good girl, bad girl, cum slut, etc.) (All of the warnings I can think of, lemme know if you think i should add anything else! warnings for full fic in the masterlist)
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When Mags’ name was drawn, you stepped forward immediately, your voice announcing, “I volunteer as tribute.”
The cheers get louder as they hold up yours and Finnick's hands, but when they let go, he pulls you into his chest, kissing you passionately. You can hear the cheers grow louder, and your eyes water as you pull him lower. You sniffle as he pulls away, stroking his cheek as you look over at Mags and nod. “I love you,” you whisper, but you’re both taken by hand into the back room. She pressed her hand to her lips and blew you both a kiss as you wave. Finnicks hand stays in the small of your back as you see Cinna, hugging him tightly as he sighed.
“It’s good to see you again, Y/N,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “I’m sorry it has to be under these circumstances.”
You giggle, shrugging. “Just make me look good when I’m about to go out, Cinna darling.”
He winks. “That’s what I do best, sweetheart.”
Finnick sighs as he kisses your temple, all of you slowly going to the shuttle where Cinna leads you to the table, softly patting your shoulder. “I have a gift for you both.”
You raise a brow as Finnick pulls you into his lap - he was always more protective around Cinna, even since the beginning of your games where Finnick was your Mentor and Cinna designed your outfits.
Cinna slowly takes out two boxes, opening them to reveal matching gold bracelets. “A gift from Effie Trinket.”
Your nose scrunches as you look over at Finnick who looks up at Cinna. “Effie Trinket, the mentor for District 12?”
He nods. “Yes, the tributes are-”
You giggle. “Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen. The fakest couple in all of Panem,” you look back at Finnick, smiling. “They wish they could be us, darling.”
Cinna just laughs as he slowly takes them out of the boxes and puts them on each of your wrists, smiling. “Now Y/N, you know they’re only doing what they can to survive.”
You let out a laugh, shaking your head. “Well then she should be a better actress. It’s sad because he seems so in love with her. I hope he finds someone to love him like he does her.”
Finnick laughs with you, kissing your neck. “Why are we getting gifts from their mentor, hm Cinna? What does she want?”
“For you to make an alliance,” he explains as he slowly sits down. “Is there anything specific we want styled this time around? I’m thinking for the parade we go with something… netty.”
You purse your lips, thinking before looking at Cinna dead in the eye. “I want to get married before the games.”
His jaw drops as Finnick smiles against your skin, your eyes catching the blurring scenery outside of the train. “Married? I get to design the Prince and Princess’ of Panems wedding outfits?!”
You giggle, nodding. “If you would do us the favor, Cinna.”
He inhaled, dramatically waving at his face. “This is going to be amazing. Amazing, I say.”
“I want white,” Finnick says, Cinna nodding as he grabs a sketchpad from… somewhere, Finnick staring down at you with a smile. “It’s going to be the best day in the world when I marry the love of my life.”
His words make you giggle as you press a soft kiss to his lips, Cinna sighing. “I wish it was under better circumstances,” he says, smiling at you both before gasping. “Rings! I need to design rings!”
You giggle as he runs off, looking back at Finnick before pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “I… I don’t want to meet them.”
He paused, raising a brow. “The District 12 tributes?”
You nodded, but then shook your head. “Any of them. Johanna especially. They all survived their games and were promised that they would never have to suffer through it again, and now,” you inhale shakily as he kisses your temple, shushing you softly. “Now we’re all going back. My nightmares have barely gone away, Finnick, I can’t-”
He shook his head. “No, no darling, calm down. I’ll be there, I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
You inhaled, nodding into his neck before the blaring voice announced your quick arrival to the Capitol. He stood, carrying you in his arms as you both walked out, immediately being taken to the area where you would be prepared for the games, being cleaned, shaven, everything.
This could’ve been the one thing you missed, gentle hands caring for your body and cleansing you of whatever- it almost made you feel relaxed and calm.
But when you stood in front of the dark horses of the District 12 horses, you felt anything but.
You stroked their face, cooing softly at them as you watched them eat a sugar cube from your palm. You paused when you heard soft footsteps, smiling before looking up at Katniss who stood next to their side.
“Katniss Everdeen, as I live and breathe,” you say, giggling as the horse nudged into your shoulder. She was dressed extremely differently from you, your outfit going along with Finnick’s with a netted bralette covering your chest and a bikini-like bottom covered with a golden threaded net acting as a see-through skirt. You felt exposed, but you had definitely been more exposed to the Capitol’s eyes before. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
She smiled, even though it was obviously fake. She was not a good actor, you could tell that. “Y/N, Panem’s Princess. I never thought I’d meet you.”
You giggle in response, taking another sugar cube from your other hand and giving it to the other horse. “Oh? You’ve wanted to meet me, hm?”
Her face flashed between annoyed and the mask she wore, smiling wider at you. “Oh, always. My mother adored your reality show.”
You hum as you look over your shoulder, another pair of steps heading your way before you see Finnick. “You should work on your acting skills, Everdeen,” you say, turning back and smiling at her. “And your lying skills. They may have fooled Panem, but they will never fool me.”
Finnick comes behind you just as Peeta goes behind her, Cinna already walking toward you both. “I’m sorry you both had to cancel your wedding,” you say, Finnick’s arm immediately going around your waist as he pressed a firm kiss to your jaw. “But I do thank you for it. It gave us, people who are truly in love, space to get married. I hope to see you both there.”
“Now, Y/N, play nice,” Finnick mumbles against your skin, hand wrapping around your throat and squeezing slightly as his teeth graze your cheeks. “We want alliances, darling, not enemies.”
You just giggle, leaning into Finnick’s grip, even though you could feel Katniss glaring a hole into you. You finally look at her, her jaw clenching. “How do people pay for the pleasure of your company?”
You couldn’t stop giggling around Katniss, not when she acted so serious. You put out your hand, watching as she tensed under your touch. “Finnick takes secrets as his form of payment,” you say as he finally lets go of you, leaning close to her ear. “I take bodies. And not in the way you’re thinking.” You squeeze her arm, smiling at her before turning to Peeta. “I hope to speak to you later, Peeta. You definitely seem more fun to talk to.”
You take Finnick’s hand as he leads you away, Cinna quickly coming to fix your outfits before you mount onto your carriage. “Snow wants a show,” he whispers to you both, sighing. “I have a little surprise for our Princess,” he hands you a remote, pointing at the button. “You click this here and everything will happen, alright?”
You nod, smiling as the music begins to play. “Thank you, Cinna.”
He winks at you before jumping off, Finnick quickly taking your hand as the first carriage runs out. You tap his cheek, smiling as he compliantly looks down at you, pulling him down for a firm kiss. He smiled, his hand slipping to your hip before your carriage started to move. You pull away, tongue pushing into his mouth before your carriage emerges and you pull away. You turn back just enough to stare at Peeta and Katniss, winking at them as Finnick grabs your hand.
You wait until you’re in front of Snow to press the button, loud chants of your own and Finnick’s name filling the arena until loud gasps form instead. You look down, the golden net on your body slowly extending, a flowing blue skirt blowing into the wind almost like a waterfall. It extends off the edge of the carriage, long as the cheering gets louder. Your names turned into chants until District 12 came out, but Caesar’s voice was still praising you until the parade ended.
You both walk down the hall when it ends, that was until Haymitch caught you both and introduced you to Katniss and Peeta all over again. “It’s so nice to meet you both,” Finnick says with a grin, pulling you as close as possible to himself. “I wanted to speak to you guys earlier, but my pretty fiancée did all the talking.”
You pout as his hand goes around your throat again, but lean your head back as he softly squeezed. “Forgive me if I came across rude,” you say, smiling at Katniss. “I hope we can be allies in the games.”
Katniss scoffs. “What's the point when you’ll try to kill us?”
You paused, giggling as Finnick kissed your temple. “Nicely, darling.”
“If I wanted to kill you, Katniss, you’d be dead already,” you look at Haymitch, smiling. “I would love to be allies with your tributes if you can get her under control,” turning to Peeta, you wink as Finnick’s lips kiss against your cheek. “I like the boy. He knows when to keep his mouth shut.”
“Whatever you say, princess,” Haymitch nods as you offer your hand, giggling as he takes it and pressed a firm kiss to the back. “I can’t wait to see you in white at your wedding.”
“Oh, you make me swoon, Haymitch,” you say, hand grazing his cheek as Finnick winks. “Guests are required to wear black. Finnick and I will be the only ones in white, even Snow is going to wear black,” you turn to Katniss. “The Princess of Panem has many things under her control.”
“I can see that.”
You giggle as Finnick slowly lets go of your throat, your hand moving away from Haymitch to softly caress her face. She inhaled sharply as you do so, and you purse your lips. “You really need to let loose, Katniss. No one likes a stick in the mud. Finnick, let’s go make love,” you giggle as her eyes widen. “Over and over again.”
Finnick smiles as you take his hand, softly kissing Peeta’s cheek. “See you at the interviews, pretty boy.”
When you’re far enough away, Haymitch sighs. “What I would do to get a kiss from her.”
Katniss scoffs. “What’s her deal? She’s just, like-”
“A princess,” Peeta fills. “A princess of lust.”
“Oh don’t take that to heart,” Haymitch dismissed them both before turning to Katniss. “But you, you better behave. They’re your most valuable allies, Katniss. If they she wants Finnick to fuck her in front of you, let them fuck. If she wants Peeta to fuck her, let him. She’s the Princess of Panem, for fucks sake!” His voice got louder, but he inhaled deeply to calm himself down. “Her sex epitome is an act in some cases. Her and Finnick have gone through things that you are lucky you didn’t.”
Katniss scoffs. “Like what?”
Haymitch pauses, but glares at her. “You will have to speak about it with them. Now, come on, you have some other people to meet.”
You and Finnick, on the other hand, did go to fuck. Your greatest source of shared trauma became your coping skill, and even with how toxic and horrible and down right bad it was, there was nothing you both enjoyed more.
You very well could’ve been obsessed with Finnick, and him with you, but neither of you cared how unhealthy it was- you needed each other like a person needed oxygen, and without the other, you would surely go insane.
You laid on top of Finnick, kissing at his neck as his hand drew patterns along your back. “Do you think I was-”
“They’ll see the true you when the time comes,” he whispers, smiling at you. “And when they do, they’ll love you even more. I swear it.”
You smiled, leaning up to kiss his lips before someone knocked. You pull away, snuggling into his chest as he yells ‘come in’, Cinna walking in with a smile. “They’re ready and they’re perfect. Interviews are in two hours, are you both ready to get dressed?”
You hum, throwing your hair back as Finnick’s hips buck uncontrollably. “One more round, Cinna.”
He laughs. “Okay. I’m coming back in ten minutes!”
You giggled, squealing as Finnick pushed you over, pulling your legs over his shoulders. “Make it fifteen!”
When the door closes, Finnick wastes no time thrusting deeper inside of you, your eyes rolling back as you claw against the sheets. “Fuck, fuck Finnick!”
“You’re a fucking whore, asking for another round,” he basically growled as your mouth lets out loud moans, his form leaning forward to ram his cock into you at a new angle. “You knew I wouldn’t say no, didn’t you? You knew that I was going to fuck you, over and over and over.”
You nodded mindlessly, groaning into his mouth. “Yes! Yes, Finnick, I want you to fuck me. I don’t want you to stop fucking me, fuck, fuck!”
“You’re a fucking, whore,” he grunts, fingers pushing down to press into your cunt with his fingers. Your eyes roll back as his fingers push into you, his thumb rubbing at your clit as his fingers curl inside of you, his cock still pounding into you like a jackhammer. You were so full of pleasure, the moans you previously held back now coming out in full force, cumming on accident with a scream as his thumb pressed on your puffy clit. “Fuck, Y/N!”
You screamed out as he pulled out of you, pulling your ankles from his shoulders as he flipped you around, forcing your face into the pillows as he pushed into you again. “You’re going to cum without my permission? Without telling me? No, not on my watch. I’m going to fuck you until Cinna comes in and you’re not going to cum until that final second ticks.”
“Yes! Yes Fin, fuck!” You wailed as he grabbed a fistful of your hair, moaning loudly as his cock pushed into you before being pulled out and fucked right back into you.
“You’re such a good whore, darling. A perfect cum rag for me to fuck and fill, aren’t you?”
“Yes, yes Fin, I’m just here to hold your cum.” You say, groaning as his hips move faster, body bouncing on the bed and your clit rubbing against the silk sheets. How were you going to be able to not cum when he was fucking you so good?
You don’t even notice you were clenching until Finnick says something, his other hand pushing between your clit and the blanket. “You’re clenching around my cock, darling. If you cum, I’m going to fuck you on live TV. Gonna fill you up in front of Caesar’s stupid fucking face. You’d like that though, wouldn’t you?”
His hand forced you to nod, tugging at the roots of your hair as drool ran down the side of your mouth. “Speak.”
“Yes! Yes, Fin, I’d love it, just as long as you fuck me! I promise Fin, I’ll be good!”
“Being good is not cumming until those fifteen minutes are up,” he snarls into your ear, slapping your pussy with a firm hand as he forces you on your knees. “You’re not going to listen to me, darling? That’s a bad girl, not a good girl.”
You shake your head, eager to please. “No Fin, I’ll be a good girl, I swear! I want your cum, I want to be your perfect little cum slut, please!”
He paused, his hand moving slowly as he kissed your shoulder. “I’m sorry, darling, I can’t do rough right now. Can you please just-”
“I’ll do whatever you want, Fin,” you say, turning your head enough to kiss his cheek. “Why don’t I make you cum and we get dressed, sounds good?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t need to finish, darling-”
“Do you want to finish?”
He paused, but nodded. His hips move slowly as you intertwine your hands together, kissing his neck softly as you groan into his skin. “Fuck, Fin, you feel so good.”
“You too, darling, holy shit.”
It doesn’t take him long to cum, his seed painting your insides white as he collapses on top of you, kissing your spine. “I can’t wait to marry you, Princess.”
You giggle, looking back. For a minute, you forgot you could die in the next week. “I can’t wait to marry you, my prince.”
When you both stood at the interviews, you were nervous. Finnick went first, and you watched as he spoke with Caesar effortlessly like he didn’t tell you he would fuck you on live TV earlier. The thought made you smile.
“So, after interviewing some of the other potential tributes from District 4, we got about the same answer for what you and our princess did the night the Third Quarter Quell was announced,” he starts to laugh, leaning forward to pretend to whisper. “Did you and Y/N have some… fun?”
Finnick laughs. “Yeah, Y/N and I did have some fun,” he looks over at you, winking. “But then again, when do we not?”
As much as you hated these fake personas, you couldn’t help but love it on Finnick. You loved the way he absolutely radiated confidence, especially when he spoke about you.
Caesar laughs. “My, Finnick, how forward you are! You and Y/N have always been-”
“Very open about our relationship?” Finnick filled in, smiling. “Yes, our relationship is not only our pride but-”
The crowd chants. “The Pride of Panem!”
“Oh, you are! You both are,” Caesar gets closer. “But should we be careful about letting our children watch the games, Finnick?”
You wanted to scream. Children shouldn’t even be watching the games anyways, but still, Finnick plays along. He grins, flexing his finger at Caesar to bring him closer, the mic as well. “We’ll have a safe word, Caesar. I’ll say it so that the children can leave.”
“Oh, my my! Behave yourself, Finnick, there’s children watching!” He continues to laugh before placing a hand on Finnick’s wrist. “Now, I was told you and Y/N have a bit of a… surprise for us.”
He smiled. “Oh, yes, we do. Y/N and I, we’re…” he looks over at you, exhaling. “We have two surprises.”
Two? What were your two surprises? You knew one was your wedding, but the other?
“Oh? Who doesn’t love surprises?! Now, everyone wants to know, Finnick,” the camera zooms in, Caesar’s perfect teeth smiling almost scarily. “What’s your surprise?”
“Y/N and I are getting married,” he says, cheers erupting from the crowd. “Tomorrow evening. We invite all that are able to come to celebrate with us, our only request is that you wear black,” he smiles. “The only people wearing white will be myself and my bride, as this is the happiest day of our lives.”
Caesar laughs. “Oh, how exciting! I am so excited for you, Finnick, where are the rings?!”
Finnick shook his head. “The rings are still being designed, you will see them tomorrow evening. My second surprise, though,” he looks back at you, smiling. “Is from Y/N.”
Your face scrunched. What was he doing?
“Oh? And what does the Princess of Panem have to say?” He pushed the mic closer.
“She’s with child,” Finnick starts to grin. “My child.”
You gasped, covering your mouth as the crowd went silent. Finnick’s eyes snap to yours, the smile on his face calming all your nerves until the crowd starts to boo. Your heart rate spikes, your breathing getting faster until you hear the words they say. “Stop the games! Our Princess and Prince need to see their baby!”
You exhaled shakily as Caesar laughed awkwardly. “Well, Finnick, I hope you have a great wedding tomorrow and I hope to see you there.”
“Well I’ll certainly be there, Caesar, and I hope you attend.”
He announced Finnick’s name and district before he left the stage, a large bubble filling your chest. Your head began to pound with every beat of your heart, fingernails digging so deep into your palms that you drew blood. You tried to focus on your breathing like Finnick had taught you, but nothing worked.
“Y/N, Y/N darling,” Finnick spoke, holding your cheeks. “Look at me, hey. Only a few more hours, darling, just a few more. I promise you, love.”
You nodded, inhaling deeply with him as he stroked your hair. Your eyes begin to water, but he quickly pats your cheek. “Hey, we don’t want to ruin Cinna’s makeup, do we?” As much as his tone was light and playful, it was much more serious and you both knew it.
“I'm scared, Finnick,” you whisper, inhaling shakily. “I don’t want to go out there.”
“Y/N, where are you, my princess?!” Caesar’s voice was loud, slightly worried before Finnick pressed a kiss to your painted lips. His thumb smudged the lipstick slightly, just enough to take some pigment off but still make you look perfect. “Go, darling, I’ll be right here.”
It takes him shoving you softly for you to go out, a smooth smile immediately gracing your features as Caesar ran to you. You hide your shaking hands in your dress, but Caesar kneels in front of you and offers his hand. You giggled, outstretching your arm for him to take your hand. You quickly fix your face as he kisses the back, holding back a grimace as he looks up at you. “My princess.”
You curtsy, cheers erupting from the crowd as he led you to the main platform. Your dress cascaded behind you, long pale blue that was almost white, a nod to your wedding dress that you were going to wear the next night. He held your hands high as you sat down, announcing the words, “Y/N, the Princess of Panem!”
You close your eyes as the cheers get louder than you’ve ever heard, letting your hand slowly fall to your lap as Caesar lets go. When you open them, you tilt your head back, blinking back tears with a slight sniffle.
“Y/N, darling,” Caesar switched to the mic on his collar, reaching for your hand again with a sigh. “We truly feel for you.”
No he didn’t, none of them did. Even if you were pregnant, none of them understood, none of them felt what you felt. “I’m sure you could try,” you say, sobbing erupting from the dramatics of the crowd.
Maybe there were some true feelings behind Caesar’s eyes, but you didn’t see it. “When you volunteered for Mags, did you know?”
You shook your head. “No, I didn’t. Finnick and I have been attempting to have a family since we ended our show,” you inhaled shakily. It wasn’t a lie, it really wasn’t, but even then, it was horrible. You very well could’ve been truly pregnant from the mornings you were waking up sick, but you fooled yourself into thinking it was just the nervousness of getting out back into the games. “It has to stick when we’re going to die, right?”
Caesar shook his head, his eyes watering as he squeezed your hand. “You… you should not say that,” he whispers, sighing. “You do not think you can win?”
You laughed. “Caesar, the Princess of Panem never loses,” your fake joy comes back as the crowd cheered, but then it turned into boos. “But I would love to think of names for my future child without the fear of dying.”
“One final question, Y/N,” Caesar says as the crowd quiets down. “If you would have known… would you have still volunteered for Mags?”
You smiled. “Caesar, no matter how much I want this child, if they’re not born yet, I want Finnick more. Forever and always. If Finnick goes somewhere, I'm with him,” you look back, inhaling deeply when you see his piercing cerulean toned eyes staring at you. “Until death do we part,” you raise your left hand to him, his own doing the same. “And when we meet in our next life.”
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Taglist: 𓆩[@poppet05]𓆪   𓆩[@ennycutie]𓆪   𓆩[@jewelrybean25]𓆪   𓆩[@arzua10]𓆪   𓆩[@savagemickey03]𓆪
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next part will be uploaded this Sunday! (and linked in masterlist and the link for next part) (05.14.23)
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reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated! I love getting y'alls feedback :)
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© asterias-record-shop
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beingsuneone · 4 months
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Sunset & Vine
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PART ONE | PART TWO
SYNOPSIS: one year was all you had, and the winners of the previous hunger games. You didn’t know them that well, but they were still youre only friends. Now you’re thrown back into the Games with some new confusing feelings.
FANDOM: The Hunger Games
PAIRING(S): Peeta Mallark x Victor!Reader
RATING: G
CHARACTERS MENTIONED: Peeta Mellark, Katniss Everdeen, Haymitch Abernathy, Coriolanus Snow, Johanna Mason, Finnick Odair, Effie Trinket, President Coin, Gale Hawthorne
GENRE/AU: Dystopia, Angst, a very small amount of comfort,
WORD COUNT: 5.2k
WARNINGS: Katniss is slightly OOC, Canon divergent in some ways but not others, CATCHING FIRE AND MOCKINGJAY SPOILERS, Reader won the 74th hunger games and Peeta and Katniss won the 73rd.
A/N: Jjj, I’ve really got to stop writing stories with ending like this. Lemme know if you want part two. FYI!!! Changed a few words that completely changed the context and set up for the next part.
DEDICATIONS: Peeta my beloved
CREDITS: Taylor Swift for the name (Gorgeous - Taylor Swift)
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It’s a woman, standing with her back to you— she has similar hair to yours and an almost protective stance to her. A haze of colour surrounds her… oranges, purples and yellows swirled into an indescribable but beautiful mess.
Peeta Mellark may be a fellow victor, and he may be one of your neighbours, but you know nothing about him. Except for this beautiful painting that he gifted you.
She wears a dress that flows in some sort of assumed breeze, and has a hand tentatively braced in her hair; there’s something so familiar about this scene that you can’t place— something familiar about the woman in particular.
You can’t place it.
You run your fingers along the small note that Peeta had left with the painting, hovering over the loopy cursive of his signature; it’s the same on the painting but it’s too beautiful to touch like that.
Last year, you won the seventy-fourth annual hunger games, and became a legend for getting district twelve two wins in a row— right alongside Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, Who won the seventy-third hunger games.
Thank god the months of parading you around were over and you could settle happily into your gigantic house by yourself.
Well, happily might be an over statement— you had no family, and certainly no friends… unless Haymitch counts but you don’t think he does.
So this painting feels extra special— a warmth in an otherwise cold and unfamiliar home.
“Where should I put it?” Muttering to yourself, you mentally scan the layout of your house; you’d want it to be in a place where you could see it often, but also somewhere where any house guest would be able to see it… yeah. House guests.
After shaking your head uselessly, you settle on hanging it in the entryway. For sure people would see it there.
You’d been putting off doing this for a couple of days, just because you hadn’t had a whole lot of energy to do anything but sit in a chair and half-read a novel.
So, after a few minutes of fiddling and messy calculations, the painting is hung in the entryway.
You take one last glance at the swirling coloured background once more, and then turn away, leaving the comfort and fantasy behind.
……
Victors are supposed to have immunity, they’re supposed to be done with the games for the rest of their miserable, trauma ridden lives.
But the seventy-fifth hunger games brings back all of the worst parts of last year— you know that out of the three other victors, you’re the female they want to get picked. You’re the easy decision, the loner that nobody cares about.
You know the Capitol loves Peeta and Katniss far too much, and you, not enough.
This, stacked on top of everything else the Capitol has put you through… it’s too much.
You’re pulled from your thoughts when there’s a knock at your door.
“Hello?” You say as you open it; Peeta Mellark is standing there with his lip turned down just slightly, his eyes center behind you for a moment before his face softens and lightens.
“Hey. You got the painting.” A smile melts onto his face, and you swear he looks… beyond words when he smiles.
After a long moment of silence, you clear your throat. “What brings you here…?” You stammer awkwardly, cringing at your choice of words.
He sort of— laughs? Chuckles? at you. “We’re talking strategy for the Quarter Quell and we figured we should include you.” His face falls again, and he looks like he’s holding something back.
Your back straightens. “The Quarter Quell isn’t for another few months—”
He nods slowly. “But we’re going to have to do the pre-tour… and they’re pulling names in just a couple weeks.”
The band around his ring finger gleams brightly in the sun, which sends some sort of jealous feeling rolling through you.
You shake your head because you don’t know Peeta Mellark, and, even if he is gorgeous, you don’t get crushes on people you don’t know.
Plus he’s in love and engaged to Katniss Everdeen, even if you did know him well enough to develop a crush.
He glances down, and then quickly yanks the ring off. “It’s, uh— just for the camera’s.” Then he gestures to the painting behind you. “That’s you, you know. I know you’ve never worn a dress like that, but I saw a screencap of you in The Games and inspiration just kind of… hit me.” he trails off at the end and fiddles with the ring in his hand.
“It’s… me?” You say slowly. “We barely know each other, why would you paint me?”
He takes a small breath. “You’re really beautiful, Y/n, I’ve always thought so.”
A breath hitches but you genuinely can’t discern if it’s him or you over the roaring of blood in your ears.
“So…” he starts again. “If you want to join us, we’re heading over to Haymitch’s now.”
“Okay.” You say, sounding more winded than you did before; you stare at him for a few more moments before you step out of the front door and shut it.
You walk silently beside him, trying not to take in his messy blonde hair or pretty blue eyes—and also, failing miserably—
Just as you reach Haymitch’s doorstep, you stop and tug on Peeta’s sleeve to get his attention. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Peeta.”
He looks down at you, the air around you charged with some kind of something that you can’t name, and just as he’s about to reach over to you, the door swings open.
“Why are you guys just standing out here?” Katniss says with her nose scrunched, she eyes you up and then eyes Peeta up in a similar fashion.
At least it wasn’t exclusively you.
Both your heads snap toward her, while Peeta smoothly comes up with a reason. “Y/n was feeling nervous, I was just trying to help calm her nerves.”
Haymitch raises an eyebrow from behind Katniss, and gives Peeta a look.
“Hey, Sweetheart.” He says, as Katniss steps aside and lets the two of you in. There’s a tenderness to his voice that you hadn’t realized you missed so much.
“Hi.” The three of you shuffle into what you think was once a living room but it’s chillingly messy in Haymitch’s house.
“Couldn’t we have done this at someone else’s house?” Peeta says, eying the empty bottles on the floor.
“No.” Katniss shakes her head, shooting Haymitch a glare. “Because everytime we have to talk to him, we have to wake him up with a bucket of water.”
You snort. “I’m sorry— a bucket of water?”
Haymitch cuts in. “Why do you think my hair’s wet? I definitely didn’t take a shower.” There's a water stain that makes his shirt sag, and you wonder how you didn’t notice before. Haymitch clears his throat. “Moving on; if it’s Katniss and Peeta then we can still milk the whole star-crossed lover thing— if it’s me or Y/n… that won’t work.”
“Y/n shouldn’t go.” Peeta interjects; you’re taken aback by it.
You fidget with the hem of your shirt. “I really thought I was the best person to go.” You pause, looking up at the three of them. “It’s not like there’s anyone here that will care if I don’t come home.”
Haymitch gives Peeta a scrutinizing look. “Look, Lover-boy, we know you have a crush but that isn’t enough for Katniss to volunteer herself if Y/n gets picked.”
Peeta looks to you and then back to Haymitch. “Katniss and I are the Capitol’s favourite couple right now, if we went we’d probably be much better off in terms of sponsors and parachutes.”
“And you don’t want her to go.” Haymitch gestures in yours and Katniss’s direction.
Peeta sighs but doesn’t deny it. It makes sense that he wouldn’t want his fiancé to go back to the Games.
“Peeta is right,” Katniss starts, “but, Haymitch, if you get picked… Peeta should stay. Either way.”
Peeta shakes his head. “No. I’m not staying.”
You cut in. “There’s no good reason why I should stay.” You’re basically the only clear answer; if you get picked you’ll go, and, if Katniss is picked, you’ll go. “I won’t.”
Now all three of them are staring at you. “If I get picked, Katniss can’t volunteer and if she gets picked, you can’t stop me from volunteering.”
Katniss huffs. “You can’t stop me from volunteering either.”
Really, you could all argue this for hours.
…..
The four of you had never come to a conclusion, and now it’s the day of the Reaping.
Effie stands uncomfortably at the bowl; she doesn’t seem happy about having to pull your names, despite her chipper facade.
“The female tribute for District Twelve is…” she says, digging around in the two slips of paper in the bowl. She finally pulls one out and reluctantly reads it out. “Y/n L/n.” She almost sighs your name.
Katniss’s fingers twitch nervously, like she wants to say something but you shoot her the strongest glare you can muster.
She doesn’t volunteer, and you’re glad for it.
You walk up to the stage, head held high; you know this is the start of the end of your life, so you might as well act more confident than you truly are.
Effie looks at you sadly once you’re settled behind her, and then turns back to the audience. “And… the male tribute for District Twelve is,” she spends another five minutes routing through the two names. “Haymitch Abernathy.” This time her sigh is one of relief.
But the relief does not last long.
“I volunteer!” Peeta says, stepping forward; Haymitch grabs his arm and says something too quiet to hear, and Peeta says something back. His face is full of determination as everyone watches him walk up the stage and stand next to you.
Everyone in your little group wears a look of defeat. Even you.
Only one of you can go home, and you’re going to do your damn best to make sure it’s Peeta Mellark.
…..
“I’m not ready for this.” You say quietly, as you walk down the corridor to your bedrooms on the train. “It’s hardly been a year, Peeta.”
He nods solemnly, not looking at you as you arrive at your door. His is just across the hall.
Peeta gently takes your hand in his and squeezes. “I know. It’s too soon.” He looks angry. “We were never supposed to have to do this again.” He drops your hand before you can reciprocate in any sort of way.
You do feel a little less nauseous though.
“It‘s okay.” You whisper, twitching your fingers and slapping it onto the doorknob. “It’ll be okay.”
Peeta’s eyes rove over you in a scrutinizing manner as though he’s trying to figure some meaning behind your words, but there isn’t one to figure.
Just that it will be okay. Peeta will, if you really just be specific. Peeta will return home, happy and safe.
Ready to live his life with the woman he loves… Katniss.
And you will fade into false glory and distant memory.
…..
“Finnick, Right?” You fidget with your fingers in front of you; Finnick Odair was an attractive man who oozed with confidence and smooth words.
“Want a sugar cube?” He asks slyly, holding one out to you. “They're supposed to be for the horses but— we’re going to die anyway, it won’t matter after that.”
You nod carefully. “Of course, because that would obviously matter if we weren’t already set for death.” You still take the sugar cube from his hand and pop it in your mouth.
You almost gag from it. Pure sugar was… a lot. “Ugh. That’s disgusting.”
Finnick chuckles. “But liberating.”
You shake your head but a smile still spreads across your face. “Liberating indeed, Finnick Odair. My last act of rebellion is eating a sugar cube.”
“Devastating, really. To the Capitol, I mean.” He smiles easily at you, before someone catches his attention and he saunters off.
Claudius Templesmith stood not far from you, crooning about something with one of the older tributes.
The older man— Betee, you think— stood, looking indifferent but also invested in Claudius’s ramblings and unnecessary questions.
You were dreading the questions he’d ask you during your second round of interviews.
The last time was time enough for you.
“What’d he want?” Peeta asks, walking up behind you and pulling your attention away from the other party-goers.
“Oh, you know,” you say flippantly, “sugarcubes, secrets, and sarcasm.”
Peeta’s eyebrows furrow in confusion but the smile remains on his face. “Sounds like an interesting conversation.” He extends his arm to you. “Shall we?”
You sigh. “Not like we have much choice.”
….
“I’d give anything to know what’s going on inside your head.” Peeta says softly, fidgeting with the rope in his hands. You’d both decided that learning how to tie some knots would be beneficial.
You chuff, an awkward laugh. “What do you mean?”
His fingers work steadily, and somewhat clumsily, with the rope; there’s something alluring about how sure he can be with his hands.
It makes you think of the painting in your house— the one that you’ll never see again— how patient he must’ve been to complete such a beautiful piece, how still and sure of himself.
“What are you thinking right now, Y/n?” He looks up at you, with those beautiful blue eyes of his.
You shrug. “I was thinking about…” you trail off, because you absolutely cannot say that you were thinking about his hands. A half-truth will have to do. “Your painting. How I’ll never see it again.”
Hip lips pull into a frown. “You’ll see it again, I’m going to make sure of it.”
Sighing deeply, you stand. “You’re the one who has to go home, Peeta, not me.” He opens his mouth to speak but you cut him off. “It has to be you.”
….
You don’t have the time to argue about it for the next couple of days, you hardly even see each other.
Now, Cinna is preparing you for the arena. You know that everything he gave was meant for Katniss, he had obviously expected it to be her, or that he wouldn’t style you.
He hadn’t been your stylist, but yours had opted out of this year’s games, claiming it was too painful to watch you go back in.
You hadn’t liked her much the first time around, wanted to change you too much in ways that you most definitely did not like.
Cinna, though, you liked him. Though this would be the last time you saw him.
You were dressed in whatever mandatory suit that they designed for this game, a skin tight suit that looked like you were about to go scuba diving.
“It’s time.” Cinna says, glancing back to the tube at the back of the room. You turn back to it.
“Thank you, Cinna.” You say, bowing your head for him. “It was nice getting to know you.”
He smiles half-heartedly. “It was a pleasure, Y/n.”
You exchange a final goodbye and step into the tube. The sixth second countdown begins as the tube starts to ascend.
It's all water, just water and water and water in a large circle around them. There was also thin sand bars that connected the tubes and the Cornucopia, but you knew you wouldn’t be braving that.
Peeta stands three tubes down, with a morphling, a Career and Johanna between you two.
Twenty seconds.
You stare at him desperately, hoping he’ll stick to the plan and swim towards you; you catch his eyes and he smiles reassuringly. It’s not a genuine smile but it still calms you all the same.
Ten seconds.
You ball your fists, clenching hard.
Nine.
Eight.
God, it’s going to be difficult to get out of the water.
Seven.
Six.
You’re not the strongest swimmer, maybe you should go to the Cornucopia.
Five.
Four.
And it’s a long way to swim, even for someone who does know how. Only experienced swimmers, like Finnick, would have an easy time of it.
Three.
Two.
Then, it occurs to you, maybe those sandbars go all the way to the shore; if you get to the Cornucopia, Grab, well, anything, and then flee via the sandbars, you just might be okay.
One.
The pads everyone stands on recede into the water and dumps everyone straight in.
It makes you realize that most of your competitors do not know how to swim.
Peeta is just barely floating thanks to the bright purple belt that had been strapped around all your waists.
You know how to swim at least a little bit , so you unbuckle yours and swim over to him; once it inflates fully, you give it to him and try to drag him towards the sandbars.
It dawns on you all over again that Peeta is a tall guy, and he’s not exactly small either.
He’s strong and his weight definitely shows that; he tries to keep himself afloat but ends up making it worse.
Eventually, you make it over there, and he pulls himself up onto the loose sand; it takes a bit of effort because it’s slippery and keeps moving under your weight.
It’s barely stable enough to be a viable option. Just barely.
You leave him there for a minute and swim to the cornucopia. There's fighting going on on its small platform, but you just snag a small waterproof bag that sits a few yards away; a knife comes flying in your direction, and knicks your face.
The salt of the water stings as it mingles with blood.
When you spin back towards Peeta, he’s struggling and Finnick is approaching him.
You race back as fast as you can.
Finnick already has some pretty gnarly weapons strapped to him.
You’re about to draw the knife on him when shakes his head. “Relax, Y/n, I’m saving his ass.” Then he lifts a hand out of the water and flashes some sort of bracelet at you.
It’s the alliance bracelets that Haymitch had mentioned.
Oh.
“I-”you start, but you never really had a sentence to begin with.
You just lag silently behind as Finnick helps Peeta to the shore. The closer you get to the shore, the wider the sandbars get, and the sturdier they are as well.
Until they're eventually higher than the water, and wide enough for both Peeta and yourself to walk side by side.
You collapse onto the sand when you finally reach the shore and stay there for only a second.
That’s all you have before the three of you are up and running into the forest in front of you.
….
When Peeta’s heart stops, you're sure that yours does too— you’re sure that, as you stand there in a state while Finnick tries to resuscitate Peeta, you’re also unresponsive and silent. Dead.
True enough, in a way.
The longer you stare at Peeta’s face, still twisted in pain from the shock, the more you feel like dropping to the ground and sobbing.
You tried to imagine the way he painted with camouflage training stuff, drawing intricate designs onto both his and one of the morhpling’s arms.
It had washed off by the next morning but you had spent the whole night longing to touch it, run your fingers along his arm, trace the shapes and swirls.
Beyond the paintings, you recalled his magnetic smile and the way he always made you feel safe and calm, the steady air that he radiated.
You weren’t ready for him to die, he was the one who was supposed to win this, after all. You had resolved that Peeta Mellark was going to be the winner of the 75th Hunger Games and you were going to do whatever you needed to to make that happen. You were even prepared to turn into somebody you weren’t, just to make sure Peeta went home. Or at least, you thought you could if you had to come to it.
But now, you’re ready to give up. Finnick or Johanna could win— and they should. Literally anyone else but you. Everyone who had a life now that Peeta is gone.
You’re just about to collapse to the ground when Peeta starts to cough erratically, and he manages to sit straight up.
“Peeta!” You cry as you fall to the ground next to him, and wrap your arms around his neck. He seems disoriented for a moment before he hugs you back, right. “I really thought you were gone.”
He gently strokes your back, as you fuss over him, double checking that he’s okay and checking his burn.
…..
You hear a loud sickening crack from somewhere else in the arena that makes everyone but Johanna and Finnick jump. You feel Peeta’s hand wrap around you protectively and pull you closer to him in the single instant that you’re all reacting to the noise.
It takes a few delayed seconds before each one of you realizes that it’s just the lightning in 12, before you realize just how having Peeta’s hands on you makes you feel.
His fingers slip from your waist, brushing softly as they fall away and leaving you feeling just slightly feral.
You pull yourself away, and dig your nails into your thigh to ground yourself. Getting used to this clock thing was going to be agonizing.
You’re waiting patiently as the lot of you— You, Peeta, Finnick, Johanna and Beetee— come up with a plan to take down the force field and take out the Careers at the same time.
You can barely focus on the conversation because you itch to have Peeta’s hands on you again, to feel his fingers against your skin again.
In fact there’s so many things you’d like to say and do with Peeta that you know you will never have the chance to; not to mention that he is in love with someone else and would never be interested in any of those things with you anyways.
You’re pretty sure you’d been staring at Peeta but you only notice because Finnick shoots a look at you— you can’t tell exactly what he’s thinking but it must be something about that.
You try to zone back into the plan.
….
Trying to trap the careers failed miserably, and the person most experienced with a bow was you, but only thanks to Katniss’s training.
Everything was a blur as the force field came down; chaos, fire everywhere— you couldn’t see or hear Peeta.
You worried about him and you laid pathetically on the ground, half out of your mind. You wondered if he was having trouble with his prosthetic leg, or having run from Enobaria or one of the other careers. You wondered if he’d make it out okay, even though it was obvious you wouldn’t.
You wondered and worried for what felt like forever until an airship appeared above you.
Great. You thought, the Capitol has come to torture you and everyone you’ve ever loved until the couldnt anymore and all of you was nothing more than a shell of a person. Until the only option was avox or death.
You can’t move, or fight it as the giant claw, scoops you up.
All that effort and you still managed to condem each and everyone of you to torture.
…..
“Relax, Y/n!” Haymitch snaps, as Finnick restrains you.
Katniss sits on the other side of the table, looking just as devastated as you.
“What do you mean, you didn’t get Peeta? You can’t just leave him there, they’ll hurt him worse than any of us could ever imagine!” You say, still struggling to get away from Finnick.
Katniss actually argues in your favour. “I did say I would only do this thing if you got both her and Peeta.”
Plutarch, the game maker shakes his head redundantly. “Peeta and Johanna were just to far away for us to locate before the Capitols airships came; I’m sorry, we’ll get them back eventually.”
Finnick finally lets you go once you’ve calmed down. He has a solemn look on his face. “I’m sure they’ve got Annie too. We need to save them as soon as possible.”
….
As soon as possible turns into several weeks, several heartbreakingly, agonizingly long weeks.
You can’t help but think about Peeta every moment of every day . You imagine all the terrible things Snow is doing to him, you wish it was you in his place.
Peeta was the one person who never deserved any of this, over anyone else. You and Katniss had been willing to do whatever you needed to to survive, you’d done things maybe you weren’t particularly proud of. But Peeta? He had never let the Games change him.
He had always been the same.
Safe, steady, comfortable, strong.
You don’t even have any hope that they’re showing him any mercy.
They aren’t.
You know now, you know by the way that last interview they aired went— how he was struck just as the cameras shut off, how your heart broke when you looked into his eyes, when you saw just how much they’d hurt him already.
You were just about ready to burst into Coin’s office and tell her that you were getting Peeta now, regardless of the consequences to Thirteen.
Gale and Katniss were fighting a lot lately, tension was heavy between them; and not in a good way. You didn’t know Gale well, but the comments he made about Peeta made your skin crawl and your hands itch to throw a few punches.
Actually they were arguing now, about Peeta, and you were listening.
Gale’s head snaps to you randomly and he barks at you; “and you! Why the hell are you so invested in Bread Boy?”
You startle for a moment, but then narrow your eyes. “What do you mean why am I invested? He’s my— friend.” You say, sounding unsure even to yourself.
Katniss huffs. “I mean, come on, Gale, you know that our relationship has been fake from the start and we—” she gestures between the two of them. “—we’re friends, Gale, we always have been.”
He scoffs, and says something else in a bitter tone but all you can hear is Katniss’s words replaying over and over in your brain.
Our relationship has been fake from the start.
“Shut up for a second!” You snap at Gale, and turn back to Katniss. “Your relationship was fake the whole time? Yours and Peeta’?” You almost feel like an asshole for asking, just in case it is real; but so many things Peeta has done and said make so much more sense recontextualized like this.
Like when he said their rings were ‘just for ten cameras.’ Or when he told you he always thought you were beautiful. Or even the way he tried so hard to convince not to go back into the games.
Both of their faces fall flat, Katniss’s in disbelief. “You didn’t know?” She says.
You shake your head slowly. “No, I-” you stop yourself because you're at a loss for words.
“Y/n, we didn’t try to hide it from you, how did you not know? Even Haymitch said right in front of you that Peeta had a crush on you!”
You deadpan once again. You had blatantly misread everybody’s words in that conversation. “I just assumed that was about you!” You stare at each other for a second longer before you stand up abruptly. “I have to go.”
There was a lot of thinking you had to do and then a lot of planning— and a bit of yelling too.
…..
You were deemed too invested in the mission to actually go on it, and Finnick was too distressed over Annie to be allowed.
So you had been sitting together in silence; the silence was comfortable but the insane amounts of stress running through your veins was enough to make the tension in the air as sharp as a knife. Not between each other but to any other person.
Especially since Gale was allowed to go on the mission, and you felt that was entirely unfair— Gale doesn’t even like Peeta.
It had turned into a whole day of waiting, and only twenty minutes ago, they had returned with Johanna, Peeta and Annie.
The anxiety had grown tenfold when you were both informed you weren’t allowed to see them yet.
Now, you’re standing outside the door where Annie was resting, watching her through the one way window.
Finnick’s eyes are filled with so many you can only pick out one or two; you wonder if your eyes will look similar when you enter Peeta’s room.
You wish him luck and watch as he enters the room; Annie looks like she screams his name and then jumps him. He holds her up, looking like it’s the happiest moment of his life.
Watching them makes you much more excited to see Peeta, although you're not sure it will be quite that exuberant of a reunion.
You walk a couple doors down, glancing in the windows as you do; but you stop when you see Katniss and Johanna in one of the rooms before Peeta’s.
Why in the world is Katniss in the Hospital? What happened?
You push open the door gently, and Katniss doesn’t stir— you take note of the morphling drip in her arm, that must be keeping her knocked out.
You see Johanna is also asleep, her head is shaved and she has the worst tortured expression on, even though she looks to be sleeping soundfully— physically, anyways.
If she’s looking that bad, you can’t help but wonder about Peeta. You’re always wondering about him.
You don’t want to disturb either of their healing so you quickly leave the room, shutting the door as quietly and calmly as you can.
Finally, as you walk out, you spot the guards in front of Peeta’s door; you think it’s a little strange, considering neither Johanna nor Annie had security at the door but you walk towards the door anyways.
The guards hold out a hand as you approach.
“Restricted access, you can’t go in there.” The guard says, almost heartlessly.
Just as he finishes speaking, the door opens and Haymitch steps out and away. You would look through the window but the blinds are down.
“I’m sorry, Sweetheart, you can’t see him.” Haymitch takes your arm and leads you back down the hallway. “The Capitol… they tortured him so bad he—” Haymitch stops, and looks away for a second before looking back. “He tried to strangle Katniss, and kept yelling about how Katniss was a liar. He’s not himself right now.”
So much for your heartfelt reunion.
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hayffie-feels · 4 months
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Even MORE Hayffie Head canons because my mind is constantly thinking ab these two:
Whenever Haymitch plays chess with Effie he always loses because he gets distracted by her.
Effie is definitely annoyed by the fact that even with the tallest heels Haymitch is still slightly taller than her.
Everlark ship Hayffie obviously.
Effie and Haymitch making a toast dedicated to the fallen tributes.
She likes play fighting with him especially when he’s in a bad mood.
They arm wrestle for fun.
Effie’s nieces and nephews visit sometimes and keep telling her how they like her more then their own mother.
Effie has almost burnt down the kitchen 25 times.
He likes stroking her hair.
Whenever they’re out in public he is very protective of her.
Effie dragging Haymitch when he did smth annoying and wondering which bin to put him in.
He picks flowers for her but leaves them on the counter cuz he’s a chicken.
In 13 he stays with her in her room most of the time.
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"Gale says I never smile except in the woods." - Katniss, THG, Ch. 1.
I present to you: Instances of Katniss effortlessly smiling/laughing around/because of Peeta in the first book:
Peeta unexpectedly laughs. “He was drunk,” says Peeta. “He’s drunk every year.”  “Every day,” I add. I can’t help smirking a little. 
“Where is Haymitch, anyway? Isn’t he supposed to protect us from this sort of thing?” says Peeta.  “With all that alcohol in him, it’s probably not advisable to have him around an open flame,” I say.  And suddenly we’re both laughing. I guess we’re both so nervous about the Games and more pressingly, petrified of being turned into human torches, we’re not acting sensibly. 
When we finally escape to bed on the second night, Peeta mumbles, “Someone ought to get Haymitch a drink.”  I make a sound that is somewhere between a snort and a laugh. Then catch myself. It’s messing with my mind too much, trying to keep straight when we’re supposedly friends and when we’re not. 
“I hope that’s how people interpret the four I’ll probably get,” says Peeta. “If that. Really, is anything less impressive than watching a person pick up a heavy ball and throw it a couple of yards. One almost landed on my foot.”  I grin at him and realize that I’m starving. 
Peeta, it turns out, has never been a danger to me.  The thought makes me smile. 
“Lean down a minute first,” he says. “Need to tell you something.” I lean over and put my good ear to his lips, which tickle as he whispers. “Remember, we’re madly in love, so it’s all right to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”  I jerk my head back but end up laughing. “Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind.” 
“Katniss?” Peeta says. I meet his eyes, knowing my face must be some shade of green. He mouths the words.  “How about that kiss?”  I burst out laughing because the whole thing is so revolting I can’t stand it. 
Peeta’s struggling to get up when I reach the cave. “I woke up and you were gone,” he says. “I was worried about you.”  I have to laugh as I ease him back down. “You were worried about me? Have you taken a look at yourself lately?” 
���So that day, in music assembly, the teacher asked who knew the valley song. Your hand shot right up in the air. She stood you up on a stool and had you sing it for us. And I swear, every bird outside the windows fell silent,” Peeta says.  “Oh, please,” I say, laughing. 
“What’s the problem?” I say with a grin.  “The problem is we’re both still alive. Which only reinforces the idea in your mind that you did the right thing,” says Peeta. 
“Ah, that’ll be nice,” says Peeta, tightening his arms around me. “You and me and Haymitch. Very cozy. Picnics, birthdays, long winter nights around the fire retelling old Hunger Games’ tales.”  “I told you, he hates me!” I say, but I can’t help laughing at the image of Haymitch becoming my new pal. 
“Hey, Effie, watch this!” says Peeta. He tosses his fork over his shoulder and literally licks his plate clean with his tongue making loud, satisfied sounds. Then he blows a kiss out to her in general and calls, “We miss you, Effie!”  I cover his mouth with my hand, but I’m laughing. “Stop! Cato could be right outside our cave.” 
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nebulablakemurphy · 1 year
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Moves & Countermoves (Part 15)
Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing. Warning: depictions of labor/childbirth and violence/death.
Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen
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“Y/N,” Effie all but accosts the woman emerging from the hallway.
“What’s wrong?” Y/N frowns, bewildered by Effie’s urgency.
She is in tears, “it’s Cinna.”
“What happened to Cinna?”
“He’s…he’s dead.”
Again the floor is falling out from beneath her, sinking, never ending. “How?”
“I don’t know, dear.” Effie breathes, it’s all being kept hush.
“I have to-” Haymitch left before Y/N, allowing her to rest. Her eyes are still swollen from the tears, no amount of sleep or makeup will hide it. “Haymitch is waiting for me.” Does he know?
“Of course,” Effie nods, excusing herself.
Y/N moves for the elevator, jamming the call button repeatedly with her finger. It dings upon arrival, moving at a snail’s pace to the ground floor.
The outdoor viewing area is open today. As if nice weather is reason enough for a picnic, while tributes slaughter each other on screen.
Chaff is still alive; hiding, waiting it out.
The current threat is monkey mutts, blood rain and the giant tidal wave; that sends Peeta and Katniss’ alliance to meet up with Johanna, Wiress and Beetee on the beach.
“Johanna?” Finnick spots her first, covered in blood from head to toe. “Johanna.”
“Finnick!”
“Looks like we have more allies,” Peeta remarks.
Y/N finds her husband, near the far wall of the indoor viewing area. He’s easier to spot in a crowd after all these years, the width of his shoulders, the color of his hair.
“Just couldn’t stay away, huh?” He is tired, worn down and unfortunately, the only news she has to share does nothing to help.
“Cinna’s dead.” Y/N whispers, plopping down in the seat beside him.
“Blight hit the forcefield, died on impact. Female morphling sacrificed herself to save Peeta.” Haymitch adds to the death toll.
“Do you think he lied? Plutarch.” That’s what gamemakers do. They lie to get in your head.
“His plan is to get Katniss out. I don’t think he lied about that.” If they keep this alliance going long enough-
“What about Peeta?” What about everyone else?
Can’t protect anyone in an arena. “He’ll be with Katniss.”
“Tick tock,” Wiress says, for what must be the hundredth time. Grabbing Johanna by the forearms to spin her.
“What’s wrong with her?” Katniss asks.
“She’s in shock, dehydration isn’t helping.” Beetee tells Katniss.
“I’ll get her some water.” Gloss takes the spile into the tree line. His back is torn up pretty good from the mutts.
“Tick tock.”
Katniss leads Wiress out into the water. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Johanna follows, while Beetee stays closer to shore, winding something on a spool.
“What’s Beetee got there?” Katniss wonders.
“Some kind of coil.” Johanna picks pieces of debris from her axe.
“Did he get it from the cornucopia?”
“Took a knife in the back to get it.”
“Tick tock.” Wiress gasps.
“I can’t,” Johanna holds up a hand in defeat. “Have fun with nuts.”
“Tick tock,” Katniss repeats, though it makes little sense to her. Allowing the water to wash away any blood clinging to Wiress’ hair.
Y/N looks to Haymitch, “tick tock?”
He lifts a shoulder, hell if I know.
Lightening strikes the large tree, at the far end of the arena, twelve times. Almost like- “a clock.” Y/N mutters under her breath, “chimes on a clock.”
“Twelve sections.” Haymitch realizes, “everything stays in its own…the forcefields in between.”
“Oh,” Wiress bobs up from the water. “Tick tock.”
“Tick tock,” Katniss says again, “it’s a clock. Wiress, you’re a genius.”
————————————————————————
With this new knowledge, the alliance heads back to the cornucopia.
“It all starts with the lightening. Then the blood rain, fog and monkeys, that’s the first four hours. At ten, that big wave hits from over there.” Katniss pauses to watch Peeta sketch a crude outline of the arena, with his sword.
“The tail points at twelve,” Peeta adds.
“That’s where the lighting strikes, at noon and midnight.”
“Strikes where?” Beetee asks.
“That big tree.”
Beetee cocks his head to the side, “good.”
“Hickory dickory dock, the mouse ran up the clock,” Wiress is singing softly to herself, beside the water.
Gloss takes a seat beside her to keep watch, smiling kindly. He doesn’t know this song.
“What about the other hours, did you guys see anything?” Cashmere asks Johanna and Beetee, hoping to fill in the other six wedges.
“Nothing but blood.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Peeta moves to stand, “as long as we steer clear of whatever sector’s active, we’ll be safe.”
“Yeah,” Finnick chimes in, “relatively speaking.”
Wiress gasps in surprise, drawing their attention.
Brutus is there with his sword buried in Gloss’ sternum. He had shielded Wiress with his own body. Gloss tumbles into the water. Cannon.
Leaving Wiress dead by Enobaria’s hand. Cannon.
Katniss draws her bow, the other victors now on defense.
Cashmere is lost in a fit of rage, knocking Brutus from the rocks.
The archer lands an arrow in Enobaria’s left arm, the career diving back into the water.
Haymitch scrubs a hand over his face. No time to digest the news as the entire cornucopia begins to spin. What the hell are you doing, Plutarch?
Johanna keeps hold of Katniss for as long as she can, but she is eventually lost to the whirling water.
She’ll drown. Y/N gnaws at the inside of her cheek. She’ll drown while I’m sitting here and all I can do is watch.
The spinning stops, the same way it started; suddenly and without cause. Eventually Katniss is able to kick to the surface, the viewing room cheers.
“Let’s just get what we need and get off the bloody island.” Johanna scowls, patting at Katniss’ back while she hacks up water from her lungs.
————————————————————————
“Besides Brutus and Enobaria, who’s left?” Katniss asks, sifting sand between her fingers.
They are back on the beach now.
“Maybe Chaff,” Peeta offers, “just those three.”
“They know they’re outnumbered, I doubt they’ll attack again.” Finnick reasons, “we’re safe here, on the beach.”
Cashmere hasn’t said a word…not since Gloss.
“So what, we hunt them down?”
“Katniss!” Prim’s howl ends the conversation prematurely. “Katniss, help me!”
“Prim!” Katniss takes off; without back up, or logical thought. Prim is in danger and she needs to save her.
“Katniss, wait.” Peeta chases after her, his leg becoming more irritated with every step. Still he presses on, ignoring it as best he can.
The bird carrying Prim’s scream is shot dead. Jabberjays.
Finnick is the fastest, joining Katniss in the clearing. “Katniss, are you ok?”
“Finnick! Ahhhh!” Annie’s voice draws him deeper into the forest.
“Annie! Annie, where are you?”
Peeta pounds his fist uselessly against the forcefield. They can’t hear him, he can’t hear them.
Katniss and Finnick run back towards the beach, only to realize that they are trapped. Birds wailing all around them. Katniss sees Peeta before she collides with the forcefield.
“It’s ok, it’s ok. They’re just mutts, they’re not real.” Peeta yells, hoping Katniss can make out the words.
She screams, covering her ears, crumpling to the ground. Peeta follows; touching his forehead to the forcefield. They wait for the hour to pass.
Y/N’s lower back is taut, spasming and releasing, stealing the air from her lungs.
Haymitch notices the uncomfortable shifting beside him. “You ok?”
Y/N nods, not trusting her own voice.
Haymitch begins thumbing circles along her spine.
————————————————————————
Word comes from Plutarch, the extraction is happening tonight. A hovercraft commandeered by district thirteen will arrive shortly and they will go. Collecting the remaining victors, under the guise of death.
Beetee’s plan is a good one, it will cause enough of a distraction. Using his wire to conduct electricity from the lighting strike at midnight.
“How do we know the wire’s not gonna burn up?” Johanna demands, leaning heavily against a tree branch.
“Because I invented it,” Beetee looks up at her. “I assure you, it won’t burn up.”
Cashmere stares out at the water. The hovercraft never came to collect Gloss’ body. Did the cornucopia tear it up? Or do they just not care enough to recover it?
Finnick returns to the sea, waiting out the sunset.
Katniss and Peeta find solace in each other, the way they always have.
“I think we need to go.”
“This plan’s gonna work,” Peeta disagrees.
“I think so too,” Katniss whispers. “Once the careers are dead, we all know what happens next. I don’t wanna be the one that shoots first.”
“What if they don’t either? What if all of us refuse to shoot first?”
The gamemakers will send mutts, or perhaps gun them down if they’re feeling impatient. “We might still end up dead.”
“Maybe not,” Peeta lifts a shoulder, “I mean it worked for us last time.”
“They’re not gonna make that mistake again. We both know there’s only one person walking out of here and it’s gonna be one of us.”
“The careers are still out there. I say we stick with these guys till midnight, and if we hear a cannon, we go.”
Katniss nods in agreement.
“Katniss, I don’t know what kind of deals you made with Haymitch, but he made me promises too.”
“Way to throw me under the bus, kid.” Haymitch raises his glass to Peeta before chugging it down.
Y/N just shakes her head. For a man who claims he doesn’t love those kids, he sure does make a lot of deals. With them, for them, doing his damnedest to keep them alive.
When the star crossed lovers kiss, there is no denying it’s real. Katniss loves Peeta, Peeta loves her. Finally she understands, what Y/N had been trying to tell her, that day on the train. Peeta is that person; her best friend, her partner, the one who waits.
“Alright, lovebirds.” Johanna calls them back.
What’s left of the alliance heads to the lighting tree.
————————————————————————-
“You two girls go together now.” Beetee hands Katniss and Johanna the wire. “Unspool it carefully, make sure the entire wire is in the water. Then head to the tree at the two o’clock sector, we’ll meet you there.”
“I’m gonna go with them as a guard.” Peeta insists.
“No,” Beetee’s head snaps toward him. “You’re staying here to protect me…and the tree.”
“No, I need to go with her.” Peeta is not backing down.
“They’re trying to separate them.” Madge realizes, pulling the throw pillow into her lap. The children and her mother are asleep, leaving only her and her father on the couch.
Y/N’s family set up camp in Victor’s Village, providing Everest and Arista some normalcy. In their own house, in their own beds. They are often found in their parent’s room, clinging to pieces they left behind.
“I’m sure there’s a reason.” The mayor shoots his daughter a reassuring smile.
They rarely watch the games together, not since she was a child. Under different circumstances Madge might think their time spent together was nice.
Katniss leaves with Johanna. Staring back at Peeta until the darkness swallows his silhouette.
A few feet later Katniss feels a bit of resistance from the line, tugging lightly. Must be stuck on a rock. “It’s caught on something.”
Brutus cuts the wire, sending the loose end flying back toward Katniss.
Johanna turns on her then, slicing a gash in Katniss’ arm and smearing the blood across her neck. “Stay down.” She tosses her axe at the careers and darts off into the woods.
Katniss pushes herself upright once their footsteps are out of earshot. “Peeta.”
“Johanna,” Finnick comes to check on his friend, after the commotion.
Katniss remains silent, allowing him to pass her by. Gathering her bow, she heads back to the tree.
Cashmere is missing and Peeta is gone. Leaving only Beetee; unconscious and twitching after an ill fated tryst with the conductor.
His spear harbors the evidence, wire still wrapped around it’s blade.
A cannon sounds, symbolizing Chaff’s death.
“Peeta!” Katniss screams.
Finnick sprints back toward the sound, “Katniss, where are you?”
She draws her bow, aimed at Finnick as he returns.
“Remember who the real enemy is.”
Just like Haymitch said…
The artificial storm cloud looms above them, and Katniss knows what must be done. There is only one shot at this, one way it ends.
“Katniss, get away from that tree,” Finnick warns.
She does not heed it, preparing for her final act. Twisting the wire around her arrow, a single shot toward the bolt of lightning. Her body is sent flying when it collides.
The screen goes black, Madge’s mouth agape. Nothing like this has ever happened. What will happen? What will Snow do?
She doesn’t have long to agonize over the prospect before the old communication system hums to life. Static cracking through the speaker. A jumble of nonsense and then a voice, her voice. Madge would know it anywhere.
“Into the woods-”
“Y/N,” Mayor Undersee nearly trips in his haste to reach the receiver. “Sweetheart, are you there?”
“District twelve…” the line crackles, “into the woods.” Then she is gone.
They aren’t able to revive the signal.
“We have to move.” Madge understands.
“She wasn’t making any sense.” Her father argues. “It might be safer if we stay-”
“Y/N is stuck in the Capitol, that may be the last message she ever sends and she sent it here. To you, to me. So we have a chance.”
He squares his jaw, struggling to accept this news. Not because he thinks his daughter is wrong…because he knows that she is right.
“I’m gonna warn the Everdeens and then I’m taking Everest and Arista into the woods where it’s safe. Pounding on doors and screaming, all the way, for our people to follow.”
“Get the kids ready to move, I’ll get your mother.”
“Thank you.” Madge says, chest heaving as she turns on her heels. Waking the children, taking nothing but the clothes on their backs.
Her parents are waiting at the door, with Gale and Katniss’ family.
“How long do we have?” Gale asks, Primrose and Miss Everdeen tucked away behind him.
“Hovercrafts could be here in an hour, maybe two.” The mayor informs him.
“Something tells me they’re in a hurry.”
————————————————————————
“I need you to take a big breath for me.” Haymitch is kneeling in front of his wife. Cupping her face in his hands, the line is down, they can no longer communicate with district twelve.
“I can’t.” Y/N claws at his hands, unable to deny that she’s having contractions, no more than two minutes apart. “Haymitch…” what if they didn’t get the message.
“Everest and Arista are gonna be waiting for us. Madge too.” Haymitch knows it. There is no other outcome. “Thirteen is sending hovercrafts for evacuation as soon as possible.”
“Did we get Peeta?”
“We have Katniss, Beetee, Finnick and Cashmere, for now. The pilot is swinging back around for Peeta and Johanna.” They only have a few minutes before the Capitol fleet arrives. “We’re gonna get them, ok?”
Y/N nods, breathing out through her nose.
“I need you to focus on this.” He runs a hand over her belly, tense with another contraction. “Healthy baby, healthy you.”
————————————————————————
Katniss startles awake, an oxygen mask tied to her face. She’s in the hovercraft. They’re taking us to the Capitol. Beetee is beside her, still unconscious. They must be holding Peeta elsewhere.
The last thing she remembers is the arrow firing, broken pieces of the arena falling around her and the claw.
“Ahhhhhhh!” A piercing scream echoes through the hovercraft.
All the more terrifying because Katniss knows it, she heard it among the jabberjays. Y/N. They are torturing her. Katniss can’t say how, but it must be something awful. Tearing the flesh from her body…
Removing the mask, she scans the area for something, anything she can use, a syringe. All she needs is a clear shot at one of her veins, save Y/N from whatever they’re planning to do next. Then she would move on to Peeta, spare him this hell.
Katniss hides the weapon behind her back, tapping the glowing access panel to open the door.
Y/N is there, sweat clings the material of her dress to her body; mouth open in an agonized howl.
Haymitch is seated behind her, keeping her upright, holding her hands. Cashmere is perched between her legs.
Finnick spots Katniss first, from his place beside Plutarch, at the holographic display table. “Katniss.”
“Katniss?” Y/N repeats, eyes searching for her.
The syringe clatters to the ground, Katniss charging toward her and crouching at her side.
“Honey, are you ok?” Y/N shakes one hand free from Haymitch’s grasp, reaching for her.
Katniss, takes it, pressing her cheek against the back of her mentor’s hand. No. “I thought…”
Y/N bears down as another contraction ripples through her abdomen.
“That was good.” Cashmere nods, patting Y/N’s knee.
“What is that?” Y/N’s given birth twice before, this is different.
“Just keep doing what you’re doing.” Cashmere encourages as tiny feet appear, “everything is ok.” It’s not ideal, but if they keep the baby moving-
“Where’s Peeta?” Katniss turns to Haymitch.
His eyes are glossy, hesitant to reply, “he’s in the Capitol. They got him and Johanna. We couldn’t get to him in time. But we’re gonna talk to President Coin when we get to district thirteen and figure out the best way to get him back.”
You’re a liar. Katniss wants to scream it, to slap him, hard, for breaking his promise. But it will have to wait. You promised to save him over me.
Exhausted and frustrated, Y/N reaches a hand down to make sense of what’s happening. “Breech?”
“Yeah,” Cashmere breathes.
Finnick is just beyond the blonde’s shoulder, a pained expression on his face. Or perhaps nauseated, watching over Y/N without actively watching.
“Once we deliver the shoulders, it should be easy.” Katniss has seen this before, her mother delivered a handful of breech babies, as a healer. The women of district twelve would call on her when the babies got stuck.
Y/N pushes again, crying out as she does.
Haymitch rests his cheek against the crown of her head. “I’m sorry.” He apologizes to the sound of her sobs. “I’m so sorry.”
Y/N continues, the same way Haymitch has known her to face any difficulty, with fierce determination. The infant is placed on her chest, kicking and crying. Healthy; same as her brother and sister before her.
Part 16
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