#I still would be happy if Gale died and Finnick lived

[moonknightstarrs]

There’s something about the hunger games series that I find really interesting. The something I’m referring to is Gale. Specifically his fate.

So often I see people say ‘Gale die’ (which I myself have said) or ‘he should have died instead of Finnick’. Yes I would have loved for Finnick to survive more than anything. And if THG needed a death of a main character then Gale would have been my automatic choice.

But-

There’s something so satisfying about Katniss choosing to never see Gale again. ‘Goodbye Gale’ feels so much more powerful and good. Because we know Katniss Everdeen. If Gale had died she would have felt so much guilt it would have been unbearable. Even after knowing what Gale did. He was still her closest thing to a friend when she was young. He helped her survive after her Dad was killed. If he died she would still miss him and she would blame herself for it. Because she’s still a young adult going through trauma and war and human beings tend to turn those negative feelings and thoughts towards themselves.

So her choosing to never see Gale is a slap in the face to him. Which I find beautiful. If he died, he’d never feel the guilt of killing all of those people, those children, the guilt of killing Prim. He wouldn’t have known what happened. He’d never pay for the way he treated Katniss and Peeta. But now- now he has to live with the fact that he killed his closest friend’s (/girlfriend’s) sister. The one thing in life she loved more than anything. The person she loved more than the world. He has to live with the fact that Katniss hates him, that he disgusts her, that he reminds her of the very evil they tried to destroy and she never wants to see him again.

Call me horrible or cruel for liking that but honestly Gale deserves what he got. I’m not saying he should be tortured to death but I just think death would have been a little too fast to justify his actions and behaviour.

#With that being said #I still would be happy if Gale died and Finnick lived #the hunger games #hunger games #thg #gale hawthorne #anti gale hawthorne #hunger games mockingjay part 2 #hunger games catching fire #hunger games mockingjay #katniss everdeen #primrose everdeen

[bestloversfan]

I've been reading (again lol) some posts about Katniss' decision to have children, and I've seen some Everlark shippers using an argument that bothered me a bit. So I'll give my two cents on this.

Katniss didn't have children because "Peeta forced her", and anyone who is capable of comprehending what they read knows that. There's plenty of canon evidence refuting this take, and we've talked about this many times already. But I think we shouldn't use the quote "When I wake, I have a brief, delicious feeling of happiness that is somehow connected with Peeta" as an evidence that she always wanted to have children.

That happens in the morning after her daydream about "a world where Peeta's child could be safe", it's true, but that doesn't mean the two events are connected. In her daydream, she was imagining a future she was not in. A future where her plan to die for Peeta in the Quarter Quell had succeeded. Let's check the full quote:

“You’re going to make a great mother, you know,’ he says. He kisses me one last time and goes back to Finnick. His reference to the baby signals that our time-out from the Games is over. That he knows the audience will be wondering why he hasn’t used the most persuasive argument in his arsenal. That sponsors must be manipulated. But as I stretch out on the sand I wonder, could it be more? Like a reminder to me that I could still one day have kids with Gale? Well, if that was it, it was a mistake. Because for one thing, that’s never been part of my plan. And for another, if only one of us can be a parent, anyone can see it should be Peeta. As I drift off, I try to imagine that world, somewhere in the future, with no Games, no Capitol. A place like the meadow in the song I sang to Rue as she died. Where Peeta’s child could be safe.

She wasn't imagining herself as the mother of his child, so why would her "delicious feeling of happiness" be caused by that thought? It doesn't make sense. The most likely interpretation is that the happiness she felt was the happiness of someone who's in love. On the previous night, she had openned her heart to Peeta in a way she never had before. She told him she needed him and kissed him passionately. So her happiness was completely natural. Anyone who has been in love at least once has been there, too (lol). Also, the embarrassment she felt when she saw Peeta after that corroborates that view.

We can use that quote (about Peeta's child) as an evidence that Katniss was fond of children and only didn't want to have one because she felt her world wasn't safe, and as an evidence that Suzanne Collins was foreshadowing what would happen in the epilogue. But we can't (or at least shouldn't) use the happiness Katniss felt in the morning after as an evidence that she already wanted to have a child with Peeta at that point, because, as I said before, she imagined a future she was not in. She wasn't expecting to be the mother of his child at that point. She wanted to die for Peeta and give him the opportunity to live a happy life in the future, even if it meant he would be with someone else. And he wanted to do the same for her. And this, my friends, is love!

The fact that Katniss didn't want to have children at that point doesn't diminish the choice she made years later. Everyone has the right to change their mind, especially when the circumstances under which they had formed their opinion change. So we don't have to believe she ALWAYS wanted to have children for her choice to mean something. Right? 😉

#I can't believe I'm talking about that topic again #lol #but I really felt like saying something after reading those posts #there's so many good arguments to prove Peeta didn't force Katniss to have children #we don't need to use weak arguments #anyway #I hope everyone will understand what I was trying to say #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #everlark #thg #sorry any english mistake

[visd3stele]

honoring the Hunger Games renaisance, I'll start a series of posts (fanfics, metas etc) on the best dystopian fantasy there is out there.

Starting iff strong: three reasons why I think Finnick's death is the saddest one

1. The lack of reason behind it (come on, even Suzane Collins is sorry for killing him)

every death, as gruesome or gory as it may have been, had an ultimate purpose: either contribuing to moving the story along or to outcase important plot points with strong, deep meaning.

all the tributes have died, horribly so, because they had to. the Games wouldn't allow their survival, showcasing the messed up reality of Panem. Rue's death is the spark of the revolution, but also proving more in depth the wicked ways of the Capitol, rooting for kids (where Rue's young age came into play) to kill or be killed. a painful reminder of how the society is controlled: by reaping their children away and shoving them in death traps. Cato's awfully long torture is to control Katniss, force her hand to kill him, because that's what is expected of her. Mags death was a statement. back in the arena, she chose to die, rather than play it by the rules. also, her choice was made by the need to save the others, empathy and kindness in a world that tries to erase any genuine human conexion. Katniss' father was rather executed and even Prim's unfortunate death had a point, both in Katniss' character development and in showing's Coin's (and that gAle's) real face too – no matter the intention, if rage and blind anger fuel it, the world will turn rotten once more.

but Finnick... other than mantaining the real factor of the story (very well kept during the series), there is no point in his death. him, alongside all the other dead soldiers, died in order to make sure the readers understand the seriosity of it all. there is no certainty in war, except for death. there is no way one could expect to come out of it alive, no matter how much they hope to and even less so a guarantee people will be able to save/keep others safe.

2. The lack of closure

maybe not specifically, maybe not as they died, but the other characters had some sort of closure as they went. Rue had the lullaby, someone to hold her hand in the last moments, Mags had the knowledge her sacrifice will help the boy that might as well be her son and his friends, some tributes were told their whole lives how glorious the Games would be while others have had said their goodbyes already most likely. even Prim had the chance to spend time with her sister, to help the revolution with her healing gift (basically to live a more hopeful life than she ever had the chance too) and as heartbreaking as it is she didn't get to see the fruits of her and her sister's (and all the others') labour, she still had some beautiful moments before the end.

and yes, Finnick got them too (the wedding, for example), but he never knew he was a father. he left Annie and their unborn son alone, having promised her they will never be separated again, that they will live a happy life together.

3. The sacrificial aspect of it

altough not the only sacrifice, it sure hit the worst. the others (Mags, for example) had nothing to lose anymore. he had. he was freshly married, with a kid on the way that he didn't know about. yet, he chose to go fight to build a better world he spent so long dreaming about.

he was so selfless and kind and he's been through so much that it's impossible not to wish for more for him. to wish he had the chance to live the long, happy life he so much deserved.

and yet, one gotta respect the absence of plot armour on Hunger Games characters... it takes a marvelous skill to do so.

#the hunger games #hunger games #finnick odair #book blog #movie talk #my analysis #my opinion #3 am thoughts

[that-sarcastic-optimist]

Fav Peeta moment or quote in each books?

(Please tag other blog who want to answer too)

Thank you 😊

@curiouspeetamellark

Oh my God, Peeta Mellark

Peeta Mellark is one of my favourite characters in the entire series, and he's so profoundly sweet that it's really hard to choose a favourite quote for him. But I guess if I had to choose one it would be when he's in the final days of the Quarter Quell with Katniss at the nd of Catching Fire, and when they're talking about sacrificing themselves for the other, and he says to Katniss, you're my whole life. If you died, I would never be happy again.

And that just got to me, you know, cause it's clear that he really, truly loves this girl, and it's not just an infatuation, because he's willing to sacrifice himself and his life for her, and solely her, fully knowing that he has a life and family back home. So yeah, that one really made me tear up.

It's been a long time since I've read The Hunger Games, so I can't really remember clearly which book it's from, but there's this one quote he has when he says, our lives are not just measured in years. They are measured in the lives of the people we touch around us.

And I get that, you know. Someone could live a thousand lives but not make a difference to anyone, just keep on living. But to actually show people that you love them, and live a short life anyway, is worth everything. And Peeta is like that, because he made an impression on everyone he came across: Katniss, Haymitch, Effie, Finnick, Coin, Plutarch, even Gale. So I think personally he lived a long and fulfilled life.

I also love the quote in Mockingjay, when he's just been brought back from the Capitol, but he's still hijacked, and he talks to Katniss and he remembers the day he gave her the bread, and he says, I must've loved you a lot.

And the reason why it got to me because deep down, even though he thinks he wants to kill the only girl he's ever loved, he still remembers that he once loved her very much, and which I think is one of the main reasons he recovered in the end.

I have so many more other favorites, but these are my top three.

#katniss and peeta #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #katniss mellark #haymitch abernathy #effie trinket #finnick odair #gale thg #mockingjay #peeta x katniss #catching fire #the hunger games #peeta mellark favorite quotes

[katnissmellarkkk]

It’s actually fascinating to me that for all the main characters in The Hunger Games (that we truly know and understand) Gale is the only one who never actually experiences his “worst case scenario” come to life.

We know right from chapter one that Katniss’ worst case scenario is losing Prim. She’s still got resentments towards her mother, she doesn’t have many friends at all because if she can help it, she won’t attach herself to people she can lose, and her father is long dead. But Prim is the one person, the one living thing that she undeniably loves without reservations or hesitation. Every single thing she does throughout the entire series can be tied back to her love for Prim.

And then Prim died at the end of the war.

Peeta’s worst case scenario was always losing himself, to the awful world they live in. He refused to just be another piece in the games, and that extended further than the arena. He believed he was destined to die in the games but he always, always tried to keep his purity of self in tact.

And then Snow hijacked him, corrupted his mind and forced him to completely forget who he was, what he stood for and who he loved.

Other important characters had their “worst case scenario” happen years before the books began. Twenty-four years prior to the start of the series Haymitch lost the three people he loved as punishment for his antics. Johanna lost everyone she ever cared for too (presumably for being rebellious or uncooperative). And in the course of the second and third book, in the background of Katniss’ story, Finnick lost Mags who practically raised him and his very vulnerable love got kidnapped and tormented. Yes, he got her back and they had a moment of happiness but then he went and bit the dust so.

But Gale never experiences this. When Katniss tells us in chapter one about Prim and her love for her, she mentions how deeply Gale loves his own family. The Hawthorne’s are sprinkled throughout all three books, more than any other family aside from Katniss’. Why would that be? We don’t know almost anything about Peeta’s family, even though his father and Mrs. Everdeen have some level of history. We know his mother is, best case scenario, sometimes temperamental (to put it lightly) and that negatively affected aspects of his development. Peeta is a much more prevalent character throughout the series, yet we know almost nothing about his family or background. Haymitch is one of the most essential people in Katniss’ life, he’s her lifeline in the games, the mirror image of what she could become in personality and trauma and her overall father figure by the end. Yet we know nothing about his family or his girl. Even though the loss of those people is likely the explanation to why Haymitch ended up the way he did. But we know the names and bits and pieces of the personalities of every single living member of Gale’s family. Why is that? Maybe because Katniss is more familiar with them? But she also went to the same school as Peeta’s brothers and she trades with his father once a week. Mr. Mellark has more of a connection to Katniss than Gale’s family does, through her mother. So, pretty apparently in my opinion, we learn more about the Hawthorne’s as a whole because it’s essential to Gale’s character. Because his family is everything to him. Because losing them would be his “worst case scenario”.

Saying this doesn’t mean Gale had it easy. His life was arguably one of the hardest we saw at the start of the series and he was put in awful positions throughout the books, he was whipped almost to death, he lost a lot that he cared deeply about along the way and he without a doubt suffered immensely. But he didn’t lose his family, in the end he landed a pretty great job, in a fancier district and presumably had his family with him.

I just find it interesting that even though his life was probably so hard, in the end of the story Gale is only main character who didn’t live through his “worst case scenario”.

#thg #hunger games #Gale Hawthorne #katniss everdeen #Peeta mellark #haymitch abernathy #finnick odair #there is another post like this I know but I still wanted to make my own to sort out my own thoughts #also prim was more of a symbol than character in herself #idk if that’s relevant here but I thought I’d mention it again in case #text post ✨✍🏻🤎 #900

[kpop-sports-books-series-fangirl]

I’m sorry (Hunger Games)

Masterlist

Request form and prompt list

(Y/N) - Your name

Plot - (Y/N) was captured by the capitol and somehow manages to escape, but their former best friend, Finnick, and the Mockingjay are mad at them because they couldn’t save Peeta and Annie. (Y/N) volunteers to go on the mission to save Peeta, Annie, and Johanna from the capitol.

Warning - Super angsty, mentions of blood, torture, violence and gun shots

“...So, any volunteers?” President Coin asks everyone around the table. Gale Hawthorne is the first to raise his hand. “I’ll go,” he says.

The gloomy atmosphere of the room shifts to one of caution when I speak for the first time in two weeks. “I’ll go too,”

I can’t bear any more of the cold looks of my former best friend. And the glares from the Mockingjay. Was it really my fault that I managed to escape from the capitol? I saw my chance and took it. Being tortured for months was not a good experience and I got out as soon as I could.

I thought my ex-best friend would be happy to see me, but the only thing I see when I look in his eyes is pure hatred for me, pure hatred at the fact that I couldn’t save the love of his life, Annie. Not me, Annie.

Everyone looks at me, shocked at the fact that I’d volunteered to go back to the place that I was imprisoned and tortured. Everyone but Finnick. I looked at him. He avoided my gaze. Surprise.

Sighing, I exited the room, not even waiting for the meeting to be finished. I head back to my room, and look through my things once again, in case I won’t make it back.

I take out the box of my belongings from my district. I picked up the fishing hook that my father gave me the day before he was killed by Snow. I clutched it in my hand and continued looking through the box. The next thing was a necklace, my older sister’s necklace.

I tied it around my neck and observed it through the mirror my mother had bought for my 15th birthday. The last thing that lay in the box was a picture. The picture of me and Finnick back when we were kids.

I had just jumped on Finnick’s back and he ran around like crazy. My sister had taken a picture with her brand new camera which was gifted to her by our parents for her 13th birthday. She lost the camera and I remember looking for it for days and when it didn’t turn up, she cried a lot, feeling like she had betrayed our parents by losing the camera.

One evening, I couldn’t bear to see my sister crying anymore, so I had stomped over to Finnick’s house, dragged him out and made him help me search for it. We had decided to split up and cover more ground, but I got lost.

I tried finding my way back, but I couldn't, eventually, the sun started setting and I found a huge oak tree under which I took shade. My stomach grumbled out of hunger, and me being the 7-year-old I was, had started crying and drifted off into an uncomfortable slumber.

A few hours later, I was shaken awake by Finnick. “Hey, (Y/N), wake up,” He then noticed the tear stains on my face and pulled me into a hug. “Why were you crying?” He asked me. “I got lost, and I was so alone and I got scared,” I admitted to him.

He pulled out of the hug, keeping his hands on my shoulders, and said, “I’m sorry. I won’t ever let you get lost again. If you somehow do still manage to get lost, come to this tree, okay? And I will find you, I promise,”

“Promise?” I asked again. “I promise to always be there for you no matter what!” He says and goes to hold my hand. “I promise to always hold this hand,”

I smiled at him, and he led the way home.

He broke the promise. He broke the promise when he let me be taken by the capitol. Blinking the tears away, I set everything back in the box.

I felt a sudden urge to throw up and ran to the bathroom in my room and coughed out blood. This had been happening for a while now. I thought it was because of the torture that was inflicted upon me, but now, I’m not too sure.

I wash myself up and go to sit on my bed, trying to calm down.

I hear a knock on my door, and I stand up and open the door a crack so no one could even look in. It was Gale.

“We’re leaving tomorrow morning, and we’re meeting for the briefing in an hour,” He said. I simply nodded and shut the door on his face.

☽˚･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ♡ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆☽

We all are geared up and waiting for everyone in the airborne division. We board the hovercraft and take off.

Everyone looks anxious. The hovercraft feels a little more crowded than I like with 7 people aboard. The red lights flashing doesn’t help the nervous energy in the air... Some people are reviewing the plans with each other and I see Gale looking over at me.

I look away and close my eyes, trying to prepare my mind for what I’m about to witness again.

Once we reached there, we entered through a secret passageway that we were informed about through our earpiece. We took out the two guards who were standing guard to the prison area.

One of the people took out a gadget and started to press some buttons, but I wasn’t concentrating, just trying to get myself mentally ready.

The doors opened with a loud hiss, revealing the huge chamber with cells. Everything was white, reminding me of the times when I was trapped in here with nothing else to look at.

All the memories of the place came rushing back.

I was sitting on the floor, clutching my head in an attempt to stop the immense pain traveling through my veins. I hear evil laughter and when I look up, I see Snow. “So, are you ready to speak now?” He asked. “Never!” I spat at him. “Increase it to the highest level,” he said to no one, but I knew that there were people watching and listening from the CCTV cameras, and immediately, the pain intensified by 20 times. I screamed so loud, the whole of Panem probably heard me. When the pain finally died down a bit, my throat was sore by how much I had screamed.

I was snapped back into reality when Gale snapped his fingers in front of me. I noticed that the alarm was triggered and red lights were blaring. I noticed that we have Peeta, Annie, and Johanna with us now and we were heading back to the hovercraft.

I stayed at the back of the group in case a peacekeeper came to attack and followed the rest out through a different passage.

Suddenly, I heard a few shouts “This way! They’re here,” followed by some gunshots. Everyone in front of me was running now, we turned right and hid behind the wall.

I spun around, signaling the others to continue going, and shot at the peacekeepers. They were shooting back of course, but I had a much better aim. I felt pressure in my abdomen and I shot down the last person.

I looked down to see I had been shot, but I covered it with my t-shirt and turned to follow the others.

I managed to jog back to the hovercraft without fainting, although the loss of blood was making me lightheaded. They were trying to get Peeta to trust them and board the hovercraft but he wouldn’t budge.

I couldn’t stand anymore and I collapsed on a seat in the hovercraft. I put my hand on the wound and pressed down on it, hoping to slow the blood flow.

“(Y/N), would you come and help-! What happened!?” I heard someone say in the distance, but I couldn’t make out who it was. I kept drifting in and out of consciousness.

It felt like hours till we made it back to district 13 and I was rushed to an emergency room. They didn’t have any sedatives on hand so they had to take out the bullet with me awake.

The pain was building up now that the adrenaline rush was gone. I couldn’t remember much that happened, just that fact that I was blinded from the pain, I had clenched my fists, trying to somehow grab something, and I heard beeps around me before I completely went out of consciousness.

Once I woke up, the doctors told me that it had been almost a week since the mission. When I had asked them if someone came to visit, they said no. I thought Finnick would come. I thought we were best friends. I thought-

I don’t know why I thought that anymore. If me taking a bullet for his love isn’t enough, I don’t know what else I can do for him. I might as well give up.

No one cares about me. I turned my head so that the doctor couldn’t see the tears threatening to spill from my eyes. I looked down at my hand, the same one Finnick always promised to hold. If he really was my best friend, he would have been there when they were removing the bullet, holding my hand, but he was probably celebrating with Annie.

No one needs me. After my family was killed, no one loved me. No one cared about me and no one needed me.

“We need to run a few more tests on you today, then you can rest,” The doctor told me. I nodded okay. “Doctor, how many days will I have to stay here for?” I asked him.

“You have very bad injuries and it might take more than a month to heal. If the test results are showing that you have another illness, then, we can’t tell until we figure out what you are diagnosed with,”

By the end of the day, I was exhausted and all of the test results had come back. I was resting in my bed, waiting for the doctor to come back, and he came in wearing a regretful expression.

“What happened?” I asked him. “Your results show that you have lung cancer,” “Can you treat it?” I ask even though I don’t know if I want to live anymore.

“We don’t have the resources to treat a Stage 1 cancer here, and you have Stage 4 cancer,” he broke the news.

I took a moment to soak it in before I asked, “How long do I have to live?”

“You should have had 1 month, but because of the bullet, your condition worsened and you just have two weeks left, I’m sorry,” he said and he left the room.

I have two weeks left. Two weeks of my life. I didn’t have anyone to say goodbye to anyways.

After a few days of moping in the hospital room, I find out that Annie and Finnick are going to get married.

On the day of the wedding, I still couldn't get out of the wheelchair, so one of the doctors took me to the wedding.

It was an okay wedding, mostly because it wasn’t me up there, beside’s Finnick. I was sitting at the back of the hall, so no one could see me, I didn’t mind though, I could just watch everything in peace.

Annie and Finnick kiss. They’re married. At least Finnick is happy now, I can see that smile on his face that I couldn’t put there.

A fit of coughs hit me, but the music is too loud and no one cares enough to take a look at me. I start coughing so hard that I’m thrown out of the wheelchair and I can see blood slowly pooling on the floor. A minute later, I collapse, still coughing. Until my eyes close.

Finnick P.O.V

It’s been two days since Annie and I got married, and I’m sitting on the edge of my bed, clutching onto the letter, trying not to cry.

I was just told that (Y/N) died during the wedding due to lung cancer. they left me a note. It said:

Hey Finnick!

I know by the time you read this I’ll be gone. Hopefully to heaven, but with all I’ve done, I wouldn’t be surprised if I go downstairs. Anyways enough about me. I was very angry with you for breaking your promise, but I figured, what good is it to die angry? Might as well live a happy two weeks of life I have left.

I want to get a weight off of my shoulders. I’m sorry I didn’t save Annie when I came back. I should have tried harder. I’m sorry.

I know you won’t miss me when I’m gone, but I’ll miss you. Your friendship. You were there for me through a lot of my hard times, so I want to say thank you.

Thank you for finding me when I got lost. Thank you for defending me against those bullies back in school. Thank you for the happiest times of my life. Thank you for being the reason my smile became just a tiny bit bigger. Thank you for being the reason my heart opened up more. Thank you for making me a better person. Thank you for being the reason to light up my life, even though I wasn’t yours.

Thank you Finnick, thank you.

I just want to say one last thing to you.

I love you.

I always have, even though you never loved me back.

Live a happy life with Annie.

Don’t you dare cry for me.

(Y/N)

I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing anymore. I was the reason for their anger in the last few days of their life. Only if I hadn’t hated them when they came back from the capitol and been thankful, maybe they wouldn’t have gone.

I didn’t even get to apologize to them. The last thing I said to them was “How could you not have gotten Annie back?!”

And they loved me? If only I had known before I met Annie because I was in love with them too.

A/N: I know the timeline is completely messed up, but I couldn't understand the exact timeline in the book, so I went with what felt right. Hope you enjoy it! :)

-TheBlueBookworm is out~!!!

#hunger games #finnick odair #finnick x reader #finnick x annie #finnick angst #gale hawthorne

[batfamtv]

I was wondering if you can do a request with Finnick Odair and my oc/me (Hannah). You don’t have to use my name, but it’s Hannah if you do. So here’s some backstory. So Hannah’s father is a district 1 victor of the hunger games, her mother is a stylist and her father lived in the capital now due to district 1’s privileges. Hannah was born and raised in the capital, but was taunt by her parents to be anti hunger games, due to her father being in the games and seeingnn the horrors along with being traumatized by seeing them when she was 8. So her and finnick met while her mother was his stylist in the games. They became friends and caught feelings when they were 16. She was one of the only person who knew the truth about his “many lovers” and she was there to help him through it. They started dating when they were 19 and when they were 21, they were able to sneak Hannah back on the train with them into district 4. The capital tried to get her back, but since this was great publicity and stuff, they just left it because it wasn’t as important. Finnick proposed to her in the capital before the 75th games. She was kidnapped and toutured by the capital with Joanna and Peeta before being rescued by Gale and the others she was also tortured with the tracker jacke serum which made her extremely paranoid. So maybe you can do something where Hannah and finnick get reunited in district 13 after she was rescued.

i would pull you from the tide

finnick odair x f!reader

in between the screams and the pain, you see finnick.

you remember the first time you meet him: young, handsome boy with a playful smile. he didn’t like you at first, thinking you were just another spoilt capitolite, but you and your family were kind, making sure he was being cared for while he stayed at the capitol (snow’s orders) for his ‘clients’.

“hi finnick dear,” your mother had introduced you then, “this is my daughter, y/n. she’s your age and wanted to meet you.” finnick had eyed you from top to bottom, but didn’t say anything other than a stiff nod. you had remained there beside your mother, almost feeling hurt for his coldness, if not for the sympathy you felt for him when he emerged out of the arena.

you also remember the first time he had actually let you in: when you came by his capitol apartment to bring him the stew your parents made for dinner, and finnick was there, crying on the floor. you knew what snow was making him do, and your family have been trying hard to make sure the victors are safe and protected here in the capitol, but you can only do so much. finnick had stared at you then, and you expected him to yell at you, to flinch when you came closer, to shove you away when your arms wrapped around him. instead, he held onto you, and cried in your arms. “i hate it here,” he had mumbled against you, “i hate it, i hate it, i hate it!” and there was nothing for you to say but “i’m sorry” and “i’m here finnick, i won’t leave you alone.”

you saw him every year, yet with another set of tributes from his district. but finnick wasn’t cold to you anymore, instead sought you whenever he had free time, because you loved to hear stories about the ocean, and how one time he saw a huge whale breach the surface of the water, and you felt his youth glowing from him, and you had decided then and there that finnick odair deserves to be happy.

“you should come to district four sometimes, y/n,” he had told you enthusiastically, even though you both knew it was forbidden to travel between districts. the wishful thinking was enough though, as you watch him remember the ocean, and you could see the ocean itself in his eyes, “i know you’ll love it!”

nodding, you ran your hands through his hair, almost smelling the saltiness of the sea in him, “yeah,” you had smiled at him, “maybe i will.”

more of those years go by in your mind, but when you open your eyes, you are still somewhat trapped in time. shivering from the cold, sore from all the beatings, you can hear peeta’s cry from a couple of cells down. you also hear johanna’s voice, she’s calling out to you, wondering if you are still alive.

“y/n?” she asks. “are you there?”

“yes,” you croak, the sound gravelly and painful. you struggle to move closer to johanna’s cell and you can almost see her grinning face.

“good,” you hear her say, “finnick would kick my ass so hard if you died.”

absolutely exhausted and pained, you close your eyes, and more memories come.

you don’t remember exactly when your feelings for him changed, but when it did, it hit hard. you remember staring at finnick, and blushing whenever he caught you.

“were you looking at me, y/n?” one eyebrow raised, he tossed another sugar cube up in the air before catching it in his mouth.

blushing red, you shook your head vehemently, “no! why would i do that?”

he shrugged, “well, i am pretty attractive.”

he tossed another sugar cube, but failed to catch it. hearing your laugh, he turned to face you with a dramatic frown. you only shook your head, “sure you are,” before turning away (absolutely hoping he didn’t see your face burn bright red after you jokingly admitted to him that you did, after all, find him attractive).

he would always smile that teasing and boyish smile before sauntering toward you and making you even more flustered. you remember one night when it was really bad for him, limping towards his apartment because he was hurt by one of his clients, and you had fussed over him, worry etched on your face. you remember him crying against you as you held him, and him whispering to you that you kept him sane. you had fallen asleep like that, arms around finnick odair, silently hoping you could do more to protect him from this life. 

finnick odair had loved you then, maybe way before then, but he didn’t tell you yet.

and perhaps, one of the reasons why he was so reluctant to tell you, and everyone else about what he felt, was because he knew the president would set his eyes on you. and finnick didn’t like that.

you remember the smile on finnick’s face, so so bright and beautiful, when he saw you get out of the train in district four. your parents snuck you out of the capitol to surprise him, and he was both worried and exhilarated. you also remember how nice it was in his district, especially that one night when you both walked by the shore at night under the full moon, when he had kissed your lips so softly as though he was scared to break you. you remember the warmth in your chest that exploded throughout your body when you threw your arms around him and kissed him back.

when you open your eyes again, it’s another day. you’re sure that you’re awake for most of the time, when they beat you up and submerge you under the water, but you don’t remember any of it. something in your mind tells you that you may have pushed those memories away, locked them deep down and all you can remember is finnick, finnick, finnick.

one of the worst days of your life was when he was reaped for the quarter quell. your family had been contacted by plutarch heavensbee immediately after, and you remember how plutarch silently apologized to you that finnick got reaped, and you made him promise to get finnick alive.

“katniss everdeen is our priority.”

“then make him second,” you pleaded, tears threatening to leave your eyes, “please.”

plutarch had nodded grimly, and you promised to yourself that you would do anything it takes to keep finnick alive.

the night before the games, he brought you to the rooftop. you were scared, for him, for the rebellion, for everything. you were scared that everything was going to change.

“not all change is bad,” finnick reassured you as he took both of your hands in his. “for example,” he smiled cheekily, biting his lower lip, “when this is over, we can get married.”

“what?” your eyes widened at his statement. he pulled out a ring, something so simple and yet beautiful (and resembled the one you were sure you saw at a shop while in district four).

“when there are no more games,” he smiled as he slid the ring to your ring finger, “when can get married. build a cottage by the sea.”

you admired the ring on your finger, overwhelmed by the proclamation and enticed by the thought of waking up next to finnick odair in your own little seaside cottage. then you threw your arms around him, pressing your lips on his with a smile.

“this is why you need to win,” you whispered against his lips.

finnick nodded, “this is why i need to win.”

the next time you’re conscious, you can hear peeta’s screams again. you’re too tired to move, limbs too sore to use and so you just lay there. as peeta’s screams for katniss faded into the background, you hear finnick’s voice.

finnick screaming your name.

you remember watching him run aimlessly through the forest, the sound of your voice calling him. “y/n! y/n!”

katniss tried to tell him that the voices are from jabberjays, they weren’t real. but finnick was inconsolable, insisting that jabberjays copy sounds from the source.

“please, let me go!” he had yelled at katniss. “they got her, they got y/n!”

he was panicked, crying for you, and you couldn’t do anything but watch as it went on for an hour. you wanted to console him right then and there, to hold him and reassure him that you’re fine, but you weren’t able to.

you didn’t want to open your eyes, but you hear his voice again. finnick’s not screaming your name, but he is whispering it. something warm covers your hand, and you almost flinch if not for the familiarity of it. when you do open your eyes, you are met by a bright light, almost harsh, but most of all--

“finnick,” you whisper, and your voice is hoarse.

finnick exhales when he looks into your eyes and sees that you’re really here, you’re alive. he cups your hand in his, pressing kisses on it as he tries to keep his tears from falling. “y/n, how are you feeling?”

you don’t know what to tell him. confused as to where you are. tired and sore. relieved to see that he’s here in front of you. in love.

despite all of this, you can only think of one thing. the one thing you’ve always felt whenever you look into finnick odair’s eyes.

“happy.”

finnick smiles boyishly, as he look down, clearly flustered. it takes someone special to make him flustered like that, and it’s always been you.

he reaches over to plant a gentle kiss on your temple, nose, cheek, and then lips. “me too.”

#batfamtv #hunger games #hunger games imagine #thg imagine #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair imagine

[theartofdreaming1]

Slightly paraphrased, but Peeta talking about that moment he developed his crush on Katniss is just too sweet 😊

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and random thoughts on chapters 22-24 are below the cut (sprinkled in some psychology thoughts again).

heart

Honestly, I think the people in Panem would perceive the whole everlark storyline the same way we perceive and react to our ships on tv (desperately wanting to reach through the screen, shoving the characters forcefully together, screaming “And now, kiss!”); especially the Capitolites who barely recognize the tributes (or people in the districts, in general) as people. The people in the districts would definitely view the whole thing more under a “reality tv” kind of lens, questioning how much of the relationship is real or not (we know that Finnick certainly thought that the entire thing was just a spiel, until Peeta hit that forcefield). The time spent in the cave must have been pretty convincing, though.

mind

I think that Katniss is still torn here - On the one hand, she kind of wants to believe that Peeta is actually into her (remember the happiness she felt when Peeta told her how his crush on her began, and it all added up and seemed so real), but on the other hand she’s terrified of that possibility because A) lingering trauma from her mom’s depression in response the Mr. Everdeen’s death, B) Katniss never even considered falling in love, so that’s a sudden unexpected thing to deal with, and C) maybe it’s just for the sake of the Games; and wouldn’t that hurt, getting your hopes up only to learn it was only for show? (How about we ask Peeta about that?)

soul

Yeah, that quote about Peeta only eating stale bread also struck me as quite sad. It just further adds to his understanding how there should be more to life than just survival, though. (One day, I’ll make that post about Peeta, Katniss, and Maslow’s pyramid of needs, I swear! I’ve already gathered some research material)

Chapter 22

My mother’s hand strokes my cheek and I don’t push it away as I would in wakefulness, never wanting her to know how much I crave that gentle touch. How much I miss her even though I still don’t trust her. - Ugh, I can’t... Katniss misses her mom, misses being cared for😢 I’m so glad we’re going to see her patch up her relationship with her mom in CF... On a different note, Katniss craving that gentle touch just perfectly illustrates why she’s so drawn to Peeta, who is generally such a gentle soul (I mean, he’s literally the person stroking her cheek here 😊)

He [Peeta] doesn’t seem angry about my tricking him, drugging him, and running off to the feast. Maybe I’m just too beat-up and I’ll hear about it later when I’m stronger. But for the moment, he’s all gentleness. - As I was saying... 😉

“I’ll go hunting soon,” I say. “Not too soon, all right?” he says. “You just let me take care of you for a while.” - I love them so much😊🥰 And then Peeta makes sure she’s well-fed and hydrated, he rubs her cold feet and tucks her into the sleeping back... and she let’s him! 💗

“He [Thresh] let you go because he didn’t want to owe you anything?” asks Peeta in disbelief. “Yes. I don’t expect you to understand it. You’ve always had enough. But if you’d lived in the Seam, I wouldn’t have to explain,” I say. “And don’t try. Obviously I’m too dim to get it,” he says. - Oof. This exchange here is interesting in many ways: 1) it highlights their different experiences, tied to their different socioeconomic backgrounds, basically, and 2)  that Katniss is very much aware of this difference, but we also see hints of her own ignorance here - because Peeta didn’t have to starve in his childhood, she thinks that he can’t possibly understand this level of hardship; but there are other ways in which one can suffer/lack fundamental needs, which brings us to 3) Peeta’s response about being “obviously too dim to get it”; I think this is a clue to his mom being also verbally abusive towards him: she called him “stupid creature” when he burnt those loaves of bread for Katniss and when he’s losing it in the attic of the Justice Building in D11 in CF he is mad that Katniss and Haymitch keep things from him “like [he’s] too inconsequential or stupid or weak to handle them”, which - to me - sounds like he’s tired of being treated that way (i.e. the way his mother treats him)

“I want to go home, Peeta,” I say plaintively, like a a small child. - God, this is a teenager in a murder-arena who feels like wanting to go home is a childish notion instead of a totally legitimate wish for anyone in that situation, regardless of age 😢

It’s not that Peeta’s soft exactly, and he’s proved he’s not a coward. But there are things you don’t question too much, I guess, when your home always smells like baking bread, whereas Gale questions everything. What would Peeta think of the irreverent banter that passes between us as we break the law each day? Would it shock him? The things we say about Panem? Gale’s tirades against the Capitol? - Geez, Katniss, give Peeta some credit here! A) It’s not like Peeta can walk around District 12 talking publicly about the injustices happening there - she and Peeta hadn’t even talked with each other before the reaping, whereas Gale is her best friend who rants to her while they are outside the confines of D12 and B) Peeta is literally the one who introduced the whole “not a piece in their Games”-idea to her; why would he be clutching his pearls over Katniss and Gale’s irreverent banter?! Just because Peeta didn’t live on the brink of starvation (she again brings up how his house smells like bread and - at this point - still thinks that the family running the bakery actually gets to eat what they produce just like that), doesn’t mean he doesn’t see how shitty life in D12 is - he can still want better conditions for those who are worse off than him!

“I did do the right thing,” I say. “No! Just don’t, Katniss!” His grip tightens, hurting my hand, and there’s real anger in his voice. “Don’t die for me. You won’t be doing me any favors. All right?” - Well, we’ll see this song and dance again in CF...

And while I was talking, the idea of actually losing Peeta hit me again and I realized how much I don’t want him to die. [...] And it’s not about what will happen back home. And it’s not just that I don’t want to be alone. It’s him. I do not want to lose the boy with the bread.” - I wish CF Katniss would remember this moment when she is questioning her motives about saving Peeta’s life in the arena - You. Care. For. This. Boy! You. Value. Him. For. Who. He. Is!!!

This is the first kiss that we’re both fully aware of. [...] 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. - Whoo! Is it hot in here or is it just me? 😉

I’m struck by his immediacy now. As we settle in, he pulls my head down to use his arm as a pillow; the other rests protectively over me even when he goes to sleep. 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. - He makes her feel safe in a murder-arena!!! 😭 This is the kind of stuff that makes everlark just a top tier romance, tbh

Peeta telling Katniss about his crush starting on their first day of school 🥰😭 - and her reaction to it... For a moment, I’m almost foolishly happy - yes, because you have a crush on him, too! - and then confusion sweeps over me. Because we’re supposed to be making up this stuff [...] So, if those details are true... could it all be true? - YESSSSSSSS!!!

“You have a... remarkable memory, “ I say haltingly. - as a severely socially awkward person... I felt that lame response in my bones 😅

“You don’t have much competition anywhere.” And this time, it’s me who leans in. - God, this would be such an amazing moment if it didn’t get tainted by that immediate sponsor gift, which just serves to muddle Katniss’s feelings with her sense of survival, further complicating her relationship with Peeta... *sigh* 

Chapter 23

“What was that you were saying just before the food arrived? Something about me... no competition... best thing that ever happened to you...” “I don’t remember that last part,” I say, hoping it’s too dim in here for the cameras to pick up my blush. “Oh, that’s right. That’s what I was thinking,” he says. - Peeta is the master of being a cheeky little shit and adorable flirt at the same time

“So, since we were five, you never even noticed any other girls?” I ask him. “No, I noticed just about every girl, but none of them made a lasting impression but you,” he says. - I appreciate that while Peeta has had a crush on Katniss forever, he clearly didn’t spend the entire time pining after her, oblivious to the rest of the world - he has a life outside of Katniss Everdeen, but ultimately, it all lead back to her

A disturbing thought hits me. “But then, our only neighbor will be Haymitch!” “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. - Laugh all you want, this is going to end up being your future anyway 😄

He [Haymitch]’s at something of a disadvantage because most mentors have a partner, another victor to help them whereas Haymitch has to bready to go into action at any moment. Kind of like me when I was alone in the arena. I wonder how he’s holding up, with the drinking, the attention, and the stress of tring to keep us alive. - Katniss is already worrying about her “new pal”, I see ;)

Maybe he [Haymitch] wasn’t always a drunk. Maybe, in the beginning, he tried to help the tributes. But then it got unbearable. It must be hell to mentor two kids and then watch them die. - Honestly, that sounds absolutely awful...

Poor, Katniss, when she learns of Thresh’s death :( - But no one will understand my sorrow at Thresh’s murder. - It’s horrible how compassion and basic human decency gets construed as ‘weakness’ in the world of Hunger Games (esp. the Capitol)

Then I escape into sleep, comforted by a full belly and the steady warmth of Peeta beside me. - Honestly, I think a word analysis of THG-series could be interesting; how often does Katniss mention “warmth”, “steady/steadiness” “safe/safety/security” in connection with “Peeta”?

“We make a goat cheese and apple tart at the bakery,” he says. “Bet that’s expensive,” I say. “Too expensive for my family to eat. Unless it’s gone very stale. Of course, practically everything we eat is stale,” says Peeta [...] Huh. I always assumed the shopkeepers live a soft life. And it’s true, Peeta has always had enough to eat. But there’s something kind of depressing about living your life on stale bread - Katniss is starting to realize that the lives of the merchants isn’t a cushy as she thought; also, in a way, we see a “prettier” version of how Panem treats the districts overall -> feeding the districts just enough that they can do their work (plus/minus a couple of people who’ll die of starvation, but at a small, for Capitolites insignificant margin), but not so much that they are in good shape to rebel; here, the merchants of D12 have just enough that they can live a “decent” life (they know it could be worse -> the Seam), but they don’t have enough to live a free, comfortable, self-determined life either. This also just further drives a wedge between the inhabitants of D12 (the merchants won’t want to rebel because they don’t want to get ‘demoted’ in their lifestyle, starving like the people from the Seam, and the Seam folk feel resentful towards the merchant people, while also not having the resources to rebel, due to their awful socioeconomic conditions)

What would be my life like on a daily basis? Most of it has been consumed with the acquisition of food. Take that away and I’m not really sure who I am, what my identity is. - It’s so sad who Katniss has been so consumed with ensuring that her most base needs are fulfilled that she barely has had the time to really figure out who she is and what she wants from life (If we’re talking Maslow’s pyramid of needs, Katniss would primarily be stuck on the lowest tier 😢)

At least, we’ll be friends, I think. Nothing will change the fact that we’ve saved each other’s lives in here. And beyond that, he will always be the boy with the bread. Good friends. - Honestly, Katniss counting on being good friends with Peeta after the Games is the highest honor she can bestow on him at that moment (she’s so into him, lol); of course, knowing that their relationship is going to be a bit rocky once they’ve come back makes this thought a little sad... but we also know they’ll make up (and out ;) in the future

Peeta licking his plate and blowing a kiss out to Effie is such an adorable goofball-moment 😊

I cover his mouth with my hand, but I’m laughing. “Stop! Cato could be right outside our cave.” He grabs my hand away. “What do I care? I’ve got you to protect me now,” says Peeta, pulling me to him. - This moment would be so cute (also, Peeta’s so confident in Katniss’s skills to protect him, which is adorable - toxic masculinity who?) but... Ugh, he’s just so giddy here, it kind of breaks my heart for when he learns later that (at least some) of Katniss’s reactions were just for show

“If we want food, we better head back up to my old hunting grounds,” I say. “Your call, Just tell me what you need me to do,” Peeta says. - Love how Peeta’s always ready to follow Katniss’s lead :)

Ideally, I’d dump Peeta now with some simple root-gathering chore and go hunt [...] “Katniss,” he says. “We need to split up. I know I’m chasing away the game.” [...] “Show me some plants to gather and that way we’ll both be useful.” - Teamwork! If it weren’t for Katniss worrying for Peeta’s safety, they’d be on the same page here

“What if you climbed up in a tree and acted as a lookout while I haunted?” I say, trying to make it sound like very important work. “What if you show me what’s edible around here and go get us some meat?” he says, mimicking my tone. - I really like how Peeta’s challenges Katniss here; he doesn’t just go along with everything she says, while still being quite reasonable

I feel like I’m eleven, again, tethered not to the safety of the fence but to Peeta, allowing myself twenty, maybe thirty yards of hunting space. [...] I allow myself to drift farther away, and soon have two rabbits and a fat squirrel to show for it. - I don’t know, but Katniss feeling tethered to Peeta makes me think of Mary Ainsworth’s attachment theory, according to which children with a secure attachment to their primary caregiver use  their “attachment figure as a safe base to explore the environment”... Of course, Ainsworth’s Strange Situation was conducted with young children, but attachment styles are supposed to influence the relationships we form with people in our later lives as well (including romantic relationships)... I dunno, just a random association that popped into my brain 😅

Chapter 24

Peeta’s a whiz with fires, coaxing a blaze out of the damp wood. - Heh, Peeta sure knows how to handle fire, huh, Katniss (or should I say: Girl on Fire?) 😏

I order him into the sleeping bag and set aside the rest of his food for him when he wakes. He drops off immediately. I pull the sleeping bag up to his chin and kiss his forehead, not for the audience, but for me. Because I’m so greateful that he’s still here, not dead by the stream as I’d thought.  - Aww, this is so sweet (and domestic)!

It’s funny. I feel almost as if it’s the first day of the Games again. That I’m in the same position. [...] But no, there’s the boy waiting beside me. I feel his arms wrap around me. - They are a team! Katniss doesn’t have to face the horrors of the Games alone anymore! It keeps boiling down to this.

#thgagain #thg #hunger games #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #thg meta #my sketches and drawings #everlark

[therealvinelle]

Hey, @theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin sent me to you for some spicy opinions. Have you read the hunger games? Do you have any headcanons? Any thoughts on main characters that is different from the way the author meant to portray? I really enjoyed your thoughts on Twilight and I’ll admit I disliked Twilight but not because of the characters being too flat and boring (I don’t agree with that) but just because of the writing style and the framing of the relationships. It really annoyed me. But your headcanons made me realize that there were some hidden gems in there. So thanks for sharing your thoughts.

I like that my life has gotten to a point where I’m the Muffin’s referral point for spicy opinions. And I’m very glad you enjoy my Twilight metas!

When it comes to my spicy hunger games opinions, I don’t actually know how spicy they are. They’re definitely very spicy considering what Hollywood tried to do, but I think I’m actually pretty much in tune with Susanne Collins. Tumblr certainly agrees with me, which is very rare but quite nice. The Muffin and I don’t actually want to have spicy opinions, it’s just that we’ll say shit like “Luke’s not a real jedi” and expect it to be obvious but nope, turns out the entire Star Wars fandom begs to differ. So, I think I agree with Collins on what she wrote, which is great, but I honestly can’t tell anymore what the authors want me to think so who knows.

So, first of, there is no love triangle in those books. And I’m not simply saying that the love triangle wasn’t the focus of the books, I’m saying that the love triangle did not exist.

Katniss and Gale were close friends and if it hadn’t been for the hunger games then yeah, they would probably have ended up together. However, the hunger games happened, and Katniss was a very changed person after that. Gale was still the same, and more, he did not get it, at all. He didn’t understand the person Katniss had become and wanted the old one back. They continued to hang out because they’d grown up together, but at this point it was only the memory of their old friendship holding them together and not the real thing.

Then we get into the third book, in which Gale grows enamored with weaponry and the quest for revenge against the Capitol, proudly displaying to Katniss his sadistic device that’ll later kill Prim. Katniss is horrified, and as usual Gale doesn’t get it. Their relationship with violence are polar opposites: Katniss has been forced to kill to protect herself, Gale takes pride in designing devices that’ll kill as many civilians as possible.

On to Katniss. The first big mistake Hollywood made with her was casting Jennifer Lawrence. Katniss of the books is an impoverished and starving child. Lawrence has the wrong body type for that, and more, she has the completely wrong presence. It’s like casting Timothee Chalamet for Thor. 

Then we have Katniss herself.

Katniss, as I see her, is not a hero at all, and she’s not supposed to be. A hero is too positive a word, as heroes get to choose their own destiny. St. George chooses to go slay the dragon. Katniss is thrown into an arena and told to kill children. She has nobility, grace, and kindness, she is indubitably brave and selfless. It’s not her character I’m questioning. But to call her a hero is to play into the narrative that there’s anything glorious or inspiring about her story, and there isn’t. She’s a traumatized child who’s propped up by powerful people to be a symbol. At first it’s the Capitol making her and Peeta star-crossed lovers, and then we have the resistance making her their rallying point. Katniss has no control over any of this. The hunger games is not the inspiring story of a girl who rallies the forces of good against the evil empire, but rather the story of a child who is grossly taken advantage of by both sides.

Then there’s the fact that even before the Capitol happened, Katniss had been forced to grow up too early. Her mother failed to be a mother, and so Katniss became the family caretaker, raising Prim like a daughter rather than a sister and keeping the family alive. Her childhood died with her father, and it is an unusually jaded and sad child who enters that arena. This doesn’t make her better suited for what she endures over the course of the trilogy, but less. Katniss has had no one to rely on, comes to rely too much on Peeta, which in turn makes her crumble like a house of cards when she loses him.

Going slightly back to the love triangle debacle, Katniss ends up with Peeta not so much because they’re the star-crossed lovers the Capitol wanted, but because after the arena Katniss is really only able to connect with people who know exactly what it’s like. Peeta, Finnick, Haymitch - these three all become deeply precious to her, there is a bond forged between victors because no one else can ever truly understand. Peeta/Katniss wouldn’t have happened in a timeline where they weren’t reaped, but they were, and now they’re each other’s only real option.

Not to mention that as victors they’ll live lives the rest of their district can’t really relate to. They have nice houses and a pension, which is alienating enough, but they’ll also be forever entangled with the Capitol, either as prostitutes, mentors, or both. Gale likes Katniss, but he could never have a wife like that.

By the end of the trilogy, Katniss is a traumatized mess of a girl, and so is Peeta. They choose to have kids anyway, something I have mixed feelings about. I see what Collins wanted with that. Katniss makes it clear early on in the series that she never wanted children, because those kids might get reaped. And, to my recollection, it was also that she just thought the world was a too cruel place. The fact that she still chooses to have kids can only be seen as a sign of healing, that Katniss now feels safe enough in this world to bring others into it.  Which is nice. Except I think that losing Prim is what made the real difference to Katniss. Prim was her daughter, and having children is the closest she’ll get to getting Prim back. I’m also slightly worried Peeta will one day snap and strangle them. There’s also the fact that I really don’t think Katniss and Peeta are parent material by the time those books are through. It’s bad enough that Katniss had to be her mother’s therapy animal, she shouldn’t repeat the cycle. But maybe I should have more faith in Katniss. And damnit, I want to be happy for her. In other words, I have mixed feelings on those kids. This all being said, I’ve heard people think it’s out of character for Katniss to have kids, and I disagree with that. I think it’s a very Katniss thing to do. The question is whether becoming a mother was a good decision.

(Since your ask pretty much put a coin in the ramble box, I’ll ramble some more: the whole “children are healing” thing in the epilogue happens through Annie Cresta as well. The girl is more traumatized than anybody after her hunger games, and codependent with her lover, Finnick Odair. Finnick dies tragically, luckily it turns out Annie was pregnant so now she gets a baby too. I question her ability to raise a child on her own, but the fact that both Katniss and Annie get to have kids points to those children symbolizing healing and happiness.)

#i feel a strange sort of performance anxiety since this was a referral ask #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #gale hawthorne #it's telling of my high regard for gale that i could not recall his surname and had to google #yet i remember ridiculous names like 'haymitch abernathy' #referral #annie cresta #the hunger games #Anonymous #ask

[mellowasinyellow]

100daysofwriting - Day 1

So I thought for the first day I might just briefly outline all of the WIPs I have actually made a start on and that might help me to decide where I want to focus some energy. I have some for Katniss/Peeta in THG fandom and some for Natasha/Clint in the MCU.

Everlark

folklore series - so I started this series of fics inspired by songs from Taylor Swift's album folklore because honestly those songs just immediately bring to mind so many scenarios that made me think of Katniss and Peeta. I made a start on chapters based on peace, my tears ricochet, invisible string, this is me trying, and mad woman. I also have a bit of an outline for continuing the story that was started in 'the 1'.

I've had this one WIP ongoing since about 2015(?) which is a bit of a monster that has grown beyond me but basically it involves Katniss and Gale being raised in the Capitol in relative poverty after their fathers are conscripted into the peacekeepers because of traitorous activity. Mrs Everdeen is still from 12 but was moved to the Captiol to be married (this part is sketchy) and she still had a little childhood romance with Mr Mellark. Peeta gets reaped and Mrs Everdeen reacts to this as he looks like his father. Katniss gets a crush on him as she watches him prepare for the games. She hates herself for it but finds herself checking up on how he is doing even during non-mandatory viewing.

Arranged Marriage - I feel like this is such a cliche for thg fandom, but I just imagined my own way that the pairings happen but I'm so bad at writing slow burn so this will probably never materialise, but if you want a semi-decent thought out pairing/arranged marriage system I would be happy to lend you mine.

Miscarriage fic - I will never post this, but it's in my WIP folder. It's full of nasty feelings that feel a little better when they are written about.

Modern AU Pandemic Quarantine! - ofc, this is essential. Katniss and Peeta end up as the only people not to move home from their dorm for the quarantine. Slow burn that I can't fucking write should ensue.

Canon Pandemic Quarantine AU - pandemic a few years after the end of the war forces Katniss to admit she wants Peeta as more than a friend with whom she hunts, bakes, rebuilds the district. Cue sexy pandemic times and a resentful Haymitch that keeps accidentally breaking the rules.

Divorced but co-parenting Everlark - obviously finding their way back together

Another classic of their children being reaped and dying - I don't know why I write things this depressing. They just tend to come out in one big rush and then I never address them again.

Real weird teen pregnancy modern day AU - don't know where it's going or why...

Modern day AU dead Prim - Peeta and Katniss just met each other through mutual friends and are kind of flirting. Peeta is a bit infatuated. Katniss stops going to mutual friend parties and he finds out it's because her sister died. Instead of staying away he gets tangled up in her grief and does all sorts of practical things while Katniss wallows. Also it's E rated but not that much fun... can't entirely explain where this one came from either...

Single Parent AU where Finnick and Annie play match maker. Probably my fave Everlark in the works but it's another one that has grown so big for the 20 minutes I can dedicate to it each week.

Clintasha

Red Room Take Down - Nat and Clint are retired and living a quiet family life with their child. SHIELD appears asking for Nat's help in taking down the red room and dealing with the fall out, specifically what to do with the girls that they get out. Nat is torn but chooses to go. Chaos ensues with the 'rescued' girls. I need to actually develop some OCs a little if I ever want this to be good but tbh the pending Black Widow movie is kind of holding me back on this one too because I hope we find out more about the red room.

So I have a weird habit of writing from Lila Barton's POV. I can't explain it. I have AoU and like to pretend it never happened but anyway I have a WIP about Lila detailing the collapse of her parents' marriage after Clint retires and he and Laura actually have to spend time together without Natasha. She then goes on to describe the custody settlement and her utter joy that Auntie Nat sleepovers with them at her dad's place. She feels utterly betrayed when she finds out they are getting engaged.

Fluffy AU - Clint and Natasha in an established relationship with a son born between infinity war and endgame. Natasha still sacrifices on Vormir, but Steve gets her back no bother and it's so nice and happy and fluffy and Clint and Natasha are together and they have a son who has both parents back and Steve gets to make all this happen and he is so happy too and they have a barbecue and go swimming in a lake and clint/natasha have private time, and their kid wants to be captain america, and did I mention how HAPPY everyone is?

Another fic similar to the above just about everyone being so HAPPY. Endgame reverses the snap and instead of weird farm family coming back Clint and Natasha get their daughter back and it's just a cute moment about her reappearance and their race back to the spot she disintegrated from. (Steve/Bucky go to Vormir and Steve is sacrificed, but that fucker CHOSE to leave).

This is another one that has just grown bigger than my brain. it's based off the idea that Natasha helped with coordinating fosterings during the blip time. Clint loses his mind when he loses his family and crashes in BedStuy but finds a neighbour girl (Kate Bishop) who is fending for herself in post-apocalyptic Brooklyn. He helps her out and tries to get children's services involved but it has collapsed. Finds out Natasha is the one getting everything in order. He gets in touch. She's at the end of her tether and asks why he can't keep looking after her. In the end he does and she ends up getting involved and all three get overly attached to each other. I haven't got as far as the events of endgame and idk what's going to happen. It might be tragic.

Pregnant Natasha but nobody knows what is wrong with her because they don't even suspect her being pregnant is possible. Just a real vivid description of the early unpleasant pregnancy symptoms.

Another absolute monster - Sort of canon compliant to begin with aside from before the farm family disappear. Clint and Laura are in the middle of separating and tensions are running quite high at the farm. Snap happens. Nat and Clint accidentally run into each other while both a bit low during the blip and get drunk and share home truths. Begin working together from HQ and both get a little less sad. He convinces her she doesn't have to be responsible for the world's fate every moment of every day. Clint has a break down at Morgan's 1st birthday and realises that things will have to change. Nat has this realisation later. They begin sleeping together. Accidental pregnancy. More feelings come out between them. They enter a more conventional relationship and have baby. Baby is really hard work (colic) and they struggle with comparisons and feelings of inadequacy. Pepper helps them to identify the colic and improves everything greatly. Happy times with baby while also running the avengers. Opportunity to reverse snap. Some good scenes between Nat and Tony. A big conversation between Nat and Clint about what it will mean. Steve and Nat end up going to Vormir together. Nat is obviously about to commit suicide. Steve over powers her and gives her a pep talk about the situation she is running away from and how to deal with it. He self-sacrifices. Clint goes back to farm fam and Natasha goes back to BedStuy with baby. Clint has to tell Laura and then the kids about the last 5 years and their new siblings. Nate is super into it. Cooper is a bit aloof and cynical. Lila is confused. Laura is quietly seething. Clint helps put the farm back together about 5 years of neglect and the kids meet baby. Family gets happier. Laura and Nat eventually meet again and it's civil/friendly.

My own version of what happened in Budapest.

The Call - inspired by a post here on tumblr. Nat calls Clint as she bleeds out. Just needs a beta reader and then I would consider publishing.

AoU reimagined but with Clintasha - I'm not sure where this one is going it's like a massive spider web right now with lots of ideas shooting off, but basically it is inspired by this post and just involves a lot of hoodwinking the other avengers.

Accidental Baby Acquisition - Natasha becomes Yelena's child's legal guardian after Yelena gets taken out. Natasha and Yelena are estranged at this point and Natasha things the whole thing is a trap and brings Clint along. He is surprisingly good with the baby so she ropes him in to teach her. The three of them end up bonding.

5 times there's only 1 bed + 1 time they choose to sleep in the same bed.

non-superhero AU Clint and Nat both think they have adopted a stay cat but actually the cat has owners and just likes strokes and eats a lot so has many 'families'. They get into an argument over which of them the cat belongs to only to find out the cat has owners and they are moving away. They decide to adopt a cat between them as both are not hope that much and the shelter refused them as single people. Slow burn ensues, which I am shit at writing.

#100daysofwriting #everlark #clintasha #thg #mcu #clintasha fanfic #clintasha fanfiction #clintasha fic #everlark fic #everlark fanfic #everlark fanfiction #natasha romanoff #clint barton #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark

[hockeysweetheart]

 Okay So This will Be The kisses ( and Talking about it) With Peeta   iOkay I’ll add the Grand total of Kisses here.....  

17 Kisses Between Katniss and Peeta in the Hunger Games  

9 Kisses Between Katniss and Peeta in Catching Fire 

3 In Mockingjay  ( and Some)  

And I am gonna be super petty Here How many times Did she kiss Gale 5 ONLY 5 TIMES.  ( I had to give him credit with the Kissing her on the cheek) 

 Here is a sort form of the Kisses. 

The Hunger Games 

1. on the cheek when Katniss said two can play at this game 

( These next ones are in the Cave or the Games) 

2. The second Kiss was to shut him up from saying I’m gonna die ( Yes the famous one Haymitch is like come on give me something to work with here) 

3. The third one was in the cave waking Peeta up 

4. The fourth one Katniss said it took a lot Including Kissing to get Peeta to Finish the Broth  ( So guessing more then one Kiss in here but I’ll count only one) 

5.  Peeta Kissed Katniss’s hand. And Katniss is like No more kisses until you eat.

6. So Katniss just Drugged Peeta and Says I wonder how Gale is taking these kisses 2 Seconds later she Kisses Peeta goodbye . In case she doesn’t return. 

7.  Katniss just wants the Games to End and they  Share a kiss.

8 The Kiss  This is the first kiss that we’re both fully aware of. Neither of us hobbled by sickness or pain or simply unconscious. Our lips neither burning with fever or icy cold. 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.

9. This Kiss Happened After the one that made her wanting more. 

10. This Kiss counts because yes their lips did touch. But its right after Peeta tells the story of him being in love with her forever since Kindergarten then that Kiss is ruined by the food arriving.

11. Katniss is thinking about Gale and kinda moves around in the freaking Sleeping Bag and wakes up Peeta which resolves in a long kiss. 

12.  They Kiss again before leaving the cave to go hunt for Food. 

13. Katniss is kinda being mean to Peeta kinda throwing the Romance out the window but then Realizes this Kisses Peeta and is like okay we can do  what you want 

14.  So this one Katniss kisses Peeta on the forhead because she is happy that she doesn’t have to face Cato Alone 

15.  This one is when they Both said listen  if we both Can’t win we both will die so Peeta gave Katniss a slow kiss. 

16. This Kiss Happened After the games when they reunite again at the  rewatch of the games 

17. During the Final interveiw they share a kiss.

Catching Fire

1. Their First Kiss is for the Cameras.  and Peeta is like I almost thought that kiss was real 

2. They kiss again After Peeta says he will give half of his winnings to District 11 fallen tributes 

3. They kiss a lot on the victory tour.  

4. After Katniss comes Back to her House after being in the woods when they are really forbidden.  She comes back to peacekeepers in her house and with no proof she was in the woods shes safe but she is injured.  And they Share a kiss in front of Everyone when she is making up this lie. 

5.Before the Games Peeta gives Katniss a kiss  ( After they spent the night together and says see you soon)

6. After Peeta is rescued by Finnick He gives Katniss a kiss we got allies 

7.  The Beach scene kiss ( We all know that one) 

8. Peeta Kisses Katniss after he said your gonna be a great mother 

9. The I’ll see you at midnight kiss. The last sane kiss of Peeta before hes taken in by the freaking Capitol

Mockingjay ( Since Peeta And Katniss are A part for half the book and Peeta is trying to kill Katniss they don’t  have as many kisses). 

1. This one I had to add becuase well yeah, When shes rubbing her lips on the pearl it’s like a cool kiss from the giver himself 

2. This kiss was when Peeta was going mad and then Katniss just kissed him thinking that might work which it did because she didn’t want to loose him again 

3. The growing back together kiss ( and some)  

A Grand total of 29 Kisses in the books Series by these two 

Now Bonus ones 

1. Catching Fire  After Peeta’s heart was restarted Katniss Kissed him this was not in the books.   

so grand total is 30 kisses  on all platforms the books and the movies. 

  So since Below is so Long I was feeling real petty and Decited to add Gales Kisses in here too 

1. The surprise Kiss  From Gale That snow knew about 

2. The Kiss after Gale got whipped and hes Basically sleeping

3. They kiss  in Mockingjay when Gale is like you kissed me here I’d have to be dead to forget that 

4. This Kiss Peeta is saved yet Hijacked and Basically Katniss has written off  and They Kiss and then Gale Ruins it

5. After  Leaving the awkward dinner Gale Kisses  Katniss on the Cheek 

Bonus ones 

Catching Fire Movie when they Kiss goodbye when Katniss is going back into the arena, 

So their grand total is 6... 

In the Hunger Games  ( Book) 

Chapter 5   But because two can play at this game, I stand on tiptoe and kiss his cheek. Right on his bruise.

Chapter 19, 

"Yes. Look, if I don't make it back  - " he begins. "Don't talk like that. I didn't drain all that pus for nothing," I say. "I know. But just in case I don't  - " he tries to continue. "No, Peeta, I don't even want to discuss it," I say, placing my fingers on his lips to quiet him. "But I  - " he insists. Impulsively, I lean forward and kiss him, stopping his words. This is probably overdue anyway since he's right, we are supposed to be madly in love. It's the first time I've ever kissed a boy, which should make some sort of impression I guess, but all I can register is how unnaturally hot his lips are from the fever. I break away and pull the edge of the sleeping bag up around him. "You're not going to die. I forbid it. All right?" "All right," he whispers.

A little Later on Chapter 19 

Haymitch couldn't be sending me a clearer message. One kiss equals one pot of broth. I can almost hear his snarl. "You're supposed to be in love, sweetheart. The boy's dying. Give me something I can work with!" And he's right. If I want to keep Peeta alive, I've got to give the audience something more to care about. Star-crossed lovers desperate to get home together. Two hearts beating as one. Romance. Never having been in love, this is going to be a real trick. I think of my parents. The way my father never failed to bring her gifts from the woods. The way my mother's face would light up at the sound of his boots at the door. The way she almost stopped living when he died. "Peeta!" I say, trying for the special tone that my mother used only with my father. He's dozed off again, but I kiss him awake, which seems to startle him. Then he smiles as if he'd be happy to lie there gazing at me forever. He's great at this stuff.

Chapter 20. 

Getting the broth into Peeta takes an hour of coaxing, begging, threatening, and yes, kissing, but finally, sip by sip, he empties the pot. I let him drift off to sleep then and attend to my own needs, wolfing down a supper of groosling and roots while I watch the daily report in the sky. No new casualties. Still, Peeta and I have given the audience a fairly interesting day. Hopefully, the Gamemakers will allow us a peaceful night.

Oh, right, the whole romance thing. I reach out to touch his cheek and he catches my hand and presses it against his lips. I remember my father doing this very thing to my mother and I wonder where Peeta picked it up. Surely not from his father and the witch.  ( Okay) Just in case why This part is isn here He Kissed her hand,  “No more kisses for you until you’ve eaten,” I say.

Chapter 21 ( Because I am being petty I added an extra bit) 

And Gale. I know him. He won’t be shouting and cheering. But he’ll be watching, every moment, every twist and turn, and willing me to come home. I wonder if he’s hoping that Peeta makes it as well. Gale’s not my boyfriend, but would he be, if I opened that door? He talked about us running away together. Was that just a practical calculation of our chances of survival away from the district? Or something more? I wonder what he makes of all this kissing. Through a crack in the rocks, I watch the moon cross the sky. At what I judge to be about three hours before dawn, I begin final preparations. I’m careful to leave Peeta with water and the medical kit right beside him. Nothing else will be of much use if I don’t return, and even these would only prolong his life a short time. After some debate, I strip him of his jacket and zip it on over my own. He doesn’t need it. Not now in the sleeping bag with his fever, and during the day, if I’m not there to remove it, he’ll be roasting in it. My hands are already stiff from cold, so I take Rue’s spare pair of socks, cut holes for my fingers and thumbs, and pull them on. It helps anyway. I fill her small pack with some food, a water bottle, and bandages, tuck the knife in my belt, get my bow and arrows. I’m about to leave when I remember the importance of sustaining the star-crossed lover routine and I lean over and give Peeta a long, lingering kiss. I imagine the teary sighs emanating from the Capitol and pretend to brush away a tear of my own. Then I squeeze through the opening in the rocks out into the night.

Chapter 22

  I give him another answer, because it is equally true but can be taken as a brief moment of weakness instead of a terminal one. "I want to go home, Peeta," I say plaintively, like a small child. "You will. I promise," he says, and bends over to give me a kiss. 

Chapter 22 ( The Kiss) 

I fumble. I’m not as smooth with words as Peeta. And while I was talking, the idea of actually losing Peeta hit me again and I realized how much I don’t want him to die. And it’s not about the sponsors. And it’s not about what will happen back home. And it’s not just that I don’t want to be alone. It’s him. I do not want to lose the boy with the bread. “If what, Katniss?” he says softly. I wish I could pull the shutters closed, blocking out this moment from the prying eyes of Panem. Even if it means losing food. Whatever I’m feeling, it’s no one’s business but mine. “Then I’ll just have to fill in the blanks myself,” he says, and moves in to me. This is the first kiss that we’re both fully aware of. Neither of us hobbled by sickness or pain or simply unconscious. Our lips neither burning with fever or icy cold. 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. But I don’t get it. Well, I do get a second kiss, but it’s just a light one on the tip of my nose because Peeta’s been distracted. “I think your wound is bleeding again. Come on, lie down, it’s bedtime anyway,” he says.

Chapter 22   ( Okay I had too add in this whole freaking part in) 

"Peeta," I say lightly. "You said at the interview you'd had a crush on me forever. When did forever start?" "Oh, let's see. I guess the first day of school. We were five. You had on a red plaid dress and your hair. it was in two braids instead of one. My father pointed you out when we were waiting to line up," Peeta says. "Your father? Why?" I ask. "He said, 'See that little girl? I wanted to marry her mother, but she ran off with a coal miner,'" Peeta says. "What? You're making that up!" I exclaim. "No, true story," Peeta says. "And I said, 'A coal miner? Why did she want a coal miner if she could've had you?' And he said, 'Because when he sings. even the birds stop to listen.'" "That's true. They do. I mean, they did," I say. I'm stunned and surprisingly moved, thinking of the baker telling this to Peeta. It strikes me that my own reluctance to sing, my own dismissal of music might not really be that I think it's a waste of time. It might be because it reminds me too much of my father. "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. "No, it happened. And right when your song ended, I knew  -  just like your mother  -  I was a goner," Peeta says. "Then for the next eleven years, I tried to work up the nerve to talk to you." "Without success," I add. "Without success. So, in a way, my name being drawn in the reaping was a real piece of luck," says Peeta. For a moment, I'm almost foolishly happy and then confusion sweeps over me. Because we're supposed to be making up this stuff, playing at being in love not actually being in love. But Peeta's story has a ring of truth to it. That part about my father and the birds. And I did sing the first day of school, although I don't remember the song. And that red plaid dress. there was one, a hand-me-down to Prim that got washed to rags after my father's death. It would explain another thing, too. Why Peeta took a beating to give me the bread on that awful hollow day. So, if those details are true. could it all be true? "You have a. remarkable memory," I say haltingly. "I remember everything about you," says Peeta, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "You're the one who wasn't paying attention." "I am now," I say. "Well, I don't have much competition here," he says. I want to draw away, to close those shutters again, but I know I can't. It's as if I can hear Haymitch whispering in my ear, "Say it! Say it!" I swallow hard and get the words out. "You don't have much competition anywhere." And this time, it's me who leans in. Our lips have just barely touched when the clunk outside makes us jump. My bow comes up, the arrow ready to fly, but there's no other sound. Peeta peers through the rocks and then gives a whoop. Before I can stop him, lie's out in the rain, then handing something in to me. A silver parachute attached to a basket. I rip it open at once and inside there's a feast  -  fresh rolls, goat cheese, apples, and best of all, a tureen of that incredible lamb stew on wild rice. The very dish I told Caesar Flickerman was the most impressive thing the Capitol had to offer.  

Chapter 23 

The sun eventually rises, its light slipping through the cracks and illuminating Peeta’s face. Who will he transform into if we make it home? This perplexing, good-natured boy who can spin out lies so convincingly the whole of Panem believes him to be hopelessly in love with me, and I’ll admit it, there are moments when he makes me believe it myself? At least, we’ll be friends, I think. Nothing will change the fact that we’ve saved each other’s lives in here. And beyond that, he will always be the boy with the bread. Good friends. Anything beyond that though. and I feel Gale’s gray eyes watching me watching Peeta, all the way from District 12. Discomfort causes me to move. I scoot over and shake Peeta’s shoulder. His eyes open sleepily and when they focus on me, he pulls me down for a long kiss.

“We’re wasting hunting time,” I say when I finally break away. “I wouldn’t call it wasting,” he says giving a big stretch as he sits up. “So do we hunt on empty stomachs to give us an edge?”

He grabs my hand away. “What do I care? I’ve got you to protect me now,” says Peeta, pulling me to him. “Come on,” I say in exasperation, extricating myself from his grasp but not before he gets in another kiss

Chapter 24

“We’re wasting hunting time,” I say when I finally break away. “I wouldn’t call it wasting,” he says giving a big stretch as he sits up. “So do we hunt on empty stomachs to give us an edge?”

He grabs my hand away. “What do I care? I’ve got you to protect me now,” says Peeta, pulling me to him. “Come on,” I say in exasperation, extricating myself from his grasp but not before he gets in another kiss

By the time we reach our destination, our feet are dragging and the sun sits low on the horizon. We fill up our water bottles and climb the little slope to our den. It’s not much, but out here in the wilderness, it’s the closest thing we have to a home. It will be warmer than a tree, too, because it provides some shelter from the wind that has begun to blow steadily in from the west. I set a good dinner out, but halfway through Peeta begins to nod off. After days of inactivity, the hunt has taken its toll. I order him into the sleeping bag and set aside the rest of his food for when he wakes. He drops off immediately. I pull the sleeping bag up to his chin and kiss his forehead, not for the audience, but for me. Because I’m so grateful that he’s still here, not dead by the stream as I’d thought. So glad that I don’t have to face Cato alone.  

Chapter 26. 

My fingers fumble with the pouch on my belt, freeing it. Peeta sees it and his hand clamps on my wrist. "No, I won't let you." "Trust me," I whisper. He holds my gaze for a long moment then lets me go. I loosen the top of the pouch and pour a few spoonfuls of berries into his palm. Then I fill my own. "On the count of three?" Peeta leans down and kisses me once, very gently. "The count of three," he says.

Chapter 27

Blinding lights. The deafening roar rattles the metal under my feet. Then there’s Peeta just a few yards away. He looks so clean and healthy and beautiful, I can hardly recognize him. But his smile is the same whether in mud or in the Capitol and when I see it, I take about three steps and fling myself into his arms. He staggers back, almost losing his balance, and that’s when I realize the slim, metal contraption in his hand is some kind of cane. He rights himself and we just cling to each other while the audience goes insane. He’s kissing me and all the time I’m thinking, Do you know? Do you know how much danger we’re in? After about ten minutes of this, Caesar Flickerman taps on his shoulder to continue the show, and Peeta just pushes him aside without even glancing at him. The audience goes berserk. Whether he knows or not, Peeta is, as usual, playing the crowd exactly right

Finally, Haymitch interrupts us and gives us a good-natured shove toward the victor’s chair. Usually, this is a single, ornate chair from which the winning tribute watches a film of the highlights of the Games, but since there are two of us, the Gamemakers have provided a plush red velvet couch. A small one, my mother would call it a love seat, I think. I sit so close to Peeta that I’m practically on his lap, but one look from Haymitch tells me it isn’t enough. Kicking off my sandals, I tuck my feet to the side and lean my head against Peeta’s shoulder. His arm goes around me automatically, and I feel like I’m back in the cave, curled up against him, trying to keep warm. His shirt is made of the same yellow material as my dress, but Portia’s put him in long black pants. No sandals, either, but a pair of sturdy black boots he keeps solidly planted on the stage. I wish Cinna had given me a similar outfit, I feel so vulnerable in this flimsy dress. But I guess that was the point.

Chapter 27. 

Things pick up for me once they’ve announced two tributes from the same district can live and I shout out Peeta’s name and then clap my hands over my mouth. If I’ve seemed indifferent to him earlier, I make up for it now, by finding him, nursing him back to health, going to the feast for the medicine, and being very free with my kisses. Objectively, I can see the mutts and Cato’s death are as gruesome as ever, but again, I feel it happens to people I have never met. And then comes the moment with the berries. I can hear the audience hushing one another, not wanting to miss anything. A wave of gratitude to the filmmakers sweeps over me when they end not with the announcement of our victory, but with me pounding on the glass door of the hovercraft, screaming Peeta’s name as they try to revive him. In terms of survival, it’s my best moment all night.

Behind a cameraman, I see Haymitch give a sort of huff with relief and I know I’ve said the right thing. Caesar pulls out a handkerchief and has to take a moment because he’s so moved. I can feel Peeta press his forehead into my temple and he asks, “So now that you’ve got me, what are you going to do with me?”

I turn in to him. “Put you somewhere you can’t get hurt.” And when he kisses me, people in the room actually sigh.  

Chapter 27 ( Peeta finds out the truth) ( Okay No Kisses in this part but  This part honestly Just says so much)

When the train makes a brief stop for fuel, we’re allowed to go outside for some fresh air. There’s no longer any need to guard us. Peeta and I walk down along the track, hand in hand, and I can’t find anything to say now that we’re alone. He stops to gather a bunch of wildflowers for me. When he presents them, I work hard to look pleased. Because he can’t know that the pink-and-white flowers are the tops of wild onions and only remind me of the hours I’ve spent gathering them with Gale.

Haymitch startles me when he lays a hand on my back. Even now, in the middle of nowhere, he keeps his voice down. “Great job, you two. Just keep it up in the district until the cameras are gone. We should be okay.” I watch him head back to the train, avoiding Peeta’s eyes. “What’s he mean?” Peeta asks me. “It’s the Capitol. They didn’t like our stunt with the berries,” I blurt out. “What? What are you talking about?” he says. “It seemed too rebellious. So, Haymitch has been coaching me through the last few days. So I didn’t make it worse,” I say. “Coaching you? But not me,” says Peeta. “He knew you were smart enough to get it right,” I say. “I didn’t know there was anything to get right,” says Peeta. “So, what you’re saying is, these last few days and then I guess. back in the arena. that was just some strategy you two worked out.” “No. I mean, I couldn’t even talk to him in the arena, could I?” I stammer. “But you knew what he wanted you to do, didn’t you?” says Peeta. I bite my lip. “Katniss?” He drops my hand and I take a step, as if to catch my balance. “It was all for the Games,” Peeta says. “How you acted.” “Not all of it,” I say, tightly holding onto my flowers. “Then how much? No, forget that. I guess the real question is what’s going to be left when we get home?” he says. “I don’t know. The closer we get to District Twelve, the more confused I get,” I say. He waits, for further explanation, but none’s forthcoming. “Well, let me know when you work it out,” he says, and the pain in his voice is palpable.

I know my ears are healed because, even with the rumble of the engine, I can hear every step he takes back to the train. By the time I’ve climbed aboard, Peeta has disappiared into his room for the night. I don’t see him the next morning, either. In fact, the next time he turns up, we’re pulling into District 12. He gives me a nod, his face expressionless. I want to tell him that he’s not being fair. That we were strangers. That I did what it took to stay alive, to keep us both alive in the arena. That I can’t explain how things are with Gale because I don’t know myself. That it’s no good loving me because I’m never going to get married anyway and he’d just end up hating me later instead of sooner. That if I do have feelings for him, it doesn’t matter because I’ll never be able to afford the kind of love that leads to a family, to children. And how can he? How can he after what we’ve just been through? I also want to tell him how much I already miss him. But that wouldn’t be fair on my part. So we just stand there silently, watching our grimy little station rise up around us. Through the window, I can see the platform’s thick with cameras. Everyone will be eagerly watching our homecoming. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Peeta extend his hand. I look at him, unsure. “One more time? For the audience?” he says. His voice isn’t angry. It’s hollow, which is worse. 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.

Catching fire 

Chapter 3

My face breaks into a huge smile and I start walking in Peeta’s direction. Then, as if I can’t stand it another second, I start running. He catches me and spins me around and then he slips - he still isn’t entirely in command of his artificial leg - and we fall into the snow, me on top of him, and that’s where we have our first kiss in months. It’s full of fur and snowflakes and lipstick, but underneath all that, I can feel the steadiness that Peeta brings to everything. And I know I’m not alone. As badly as I have hurt him, he won’t expose me in front of the cameras. Won’t condemn me with a halfhearted kiss. He’s still looking out for me. Just as he did in the arena. Somehow the thought makes me want to cry. Instead I pull him to his feet, tuck my glove through the crook of his arm, and merrily pull him on our way. 

Chapter 4

Favourite colour

After a while I hear footsteps behind me. It’ll be Haymitch, coming to chew me out. It’s not like I don’t deserve it, but I still don’t want to hear it. “I’m not in the mood for a lecture,” I warn the clump of weeds by my shoes. “I’ll try to keep it brief.” Peeta takes a seat beside me. “I thought you were Haymitch,” I say. “No, he’s still working on that muffin.” I watch as Peeta positions his artificial leg. “Bad day, huh?” “It’s nothing,” I say. He takes a deep breath. “Look, Katniss, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about the way I acted on the train. I mean, the last train. The one that brought us home. I knew you had something with Gale. I was jealous of him before I even officially met you. And it wasn’t fair to hold you to anything that happened in the Games. I’m sorry.” His apology takes me by surprise. It’s true that Peeta froze me out after I confessed that my love for him during the Games was something of an act. But I don’t hold that against him. In the arena, I’d played that romance angle for all it was worth. There had been times when I didn’t honestly know how I felt about him. I still don’t, really. “I’m sorry, too,” I say. I’m not sure for what exactly. Maybe because there’s a real chance I’m about to destroy him. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. You were just keeping us alive. But I don’t want us to go on like this, ignoring each other in real life and falling into the snow every time there’s a camera around. So I thought if I stopped being so, you know, wounded, we could take a shot at just being friends,” he says. All my friends are probably going to end up dead, but refusing Peeta wouldn’t keep him safe. “Okay,” I say. His offer does make me feel better. Less duplicitous somehow. It would be nice if he’d come to me with this earlier, before I knew that President Snow had other plans and just being friends was not an option for us anymore. But either way, I’m glad we’re speaking again. “So what’s wrong?” he asks. I can’t tell him. I pick at the clump of weeds. “Let’s start with something more basic. Isn’t it strange that I know you’d risk your life to save mine … but I don’t know what your favorite color is?” he says. A smile creeps onto my lips. “Green. What’s yours?” “Orange,” he says. “Orange? Like Effie’s hair?” I say. “A bit more muted,” he says. “More like … sunset.” Sunset. I can see it immediately, the rim of the descending sun, the sky streaked with soft shades of orange. Beautiful. I remember the tiger lily cookie and, now that Peeta is talking to me again, it’s all I can do not to recount the whole story about President Snow. But I know Haymitch wouldn’t want me to. I’d better stick to small talk. “You know, everyone’s always raving about your paintings. I feel bad I haven’t seen them,” I say. “Well, I’ve got a whole train car full.” He rises and offers me his hand. “Come on.” It’s good to feel his fingers entwined with mine again, not for show but in actual friendship. We walk back to the train hand in hand.

Chapter 4

I look at Peeta and he gives me a sad smile. I hear Haymitch’s voice. “You could do a lot worse.” At this moment, it’s impossible to imagine how I could do any better. The gift … it is perfect. So when I rise up on tiptoe to kiss him, it doesn’t seem forced at all.

Chapter 5

We descend the steps and are sucked into what becomes an indistinguishable round of dinners, ceremonies, and train rides. Each day it’s the same. Wake up. Get dressed. Ride through cheering crowds. Listen to a speech in our honor. Give a thank-you speech in return, but only the one the Capitol gave us, never any personal additions now. Sometimes a brief tour: a glimpse of the sea in one district, towering forests in another, ugly factories, fields of wheat, stinking refineries. Dress in evening clothes. Attend dinner. Train. During ceremonies, we are solemn and respectful but always linked together, by our hands, our arms. At dinners, we are borderline delirious in our love for each other. We kiss, we dance, we get caught trying to sneak away to be alone. On the train, we are quietly miserable as we try to assess what effect we might be having.

Cinna begins to take in my clothes around the waist. The prep team frets over the circles under my eyes. Effie starts giving me pills to sleep, but they don’t work. Not well enough. I drift off only to be roused by nightmares that have increased in number and intensity. Peeta, who spends much of the night roaming the train, hears me screaming as I struggle to break out of the haze of drugs that merely prolong the horrible dreams. He manages to wake me and calm me down. Then he climbs into bed to hold me until I fall back to sleep. After that, I refuse the pills. But every night I let him into my bed. We manage the darkness as we did in the arena, wrapped in each other’s arms, guarding against dangers that can descend at any moment. Nothing else happens, but our arrangement quickly becomes a subject of gossip on the train.

Chapter 6 On the way home

When I open my eyes, it’s early afternoon. My head rests on Peeta’s arm. I don’t remember him coming in last night. I turn, being careful not to disturb him, but he’s already awake. “No nightmares,” he says. “What?” I ask. “You didn’t have any nightmares last night,” he says. He’s right. For the first time in ages I’ve slept through the night. “I had a dream, though,” I say, thinking back. “I was following a mockingjay through the woods. For a long time. It was Rue, really. I mean, when it sang, it had her voice.” “Where did she take you?” he says, brushing my hair off my forehead. “I don’t know. We never arrived,” I say. “But I felt happy.” “Well, you slept like you were happy,” he says. “Peeta, how come I never know when you’re having a nightmare?” I say. “I don’t know. I don’t think I cry out or thrash around or anything. I just come to, paralyzed with terror,” he says. “You should wake me,” I say, thinking about how I can interrupt his sleep two or three times on a bad night. About how long it can take to calm me down. “It’s not necessary. My nightmares are usually about losing you,” he says. “I’m okay once I realize you’re here.”

Ugh. Peeta makes comments like this in such an offhand way, and it’s like being hit in the gut. He’s only answering my question honestly. He’s not pressing me to reply in kind, to make any declaration of love. But I still feel awful, as if I’ve been using him in some terrible way. Have I? I don’t know. I only know that for the first time, I feel immoral about him being here in my bed. Which is ironic since we’re officially engaged now. “Be worse when we’re home and I’m sleeping alone again,” he says. That’s right, we’re almost home. 

 Chapter 9     I am being petty yes for this Part...

“I’ve heard worse,” she says . “You’ve seen how people are, when someone they love is in pain.” Someone they love. The words numb my tongue as if it’s been packed in snow coat. Of course, I love Gale. But what kind of love does she mean? What do I mean when I say I love Gale? I don’t know. I did kiss him last night, in a moment when my emotions were running so high. But I’m sure he doesn’t remember it. Does he? I hope not. If he does, everything will just get more complicated and I really can’t think about kissing when I’ve got a rebellion to incite. I give my head a little shake to clear it. “Where’s Peeta?” I say. “He went home when we heard you stirring. Didn’t want to leave his house unattended during the storm,” says my mother. “Did he get back all right?” I ask. In a blizzard, you can get lost in a matter of yards and wander off course into oblivion. “Why don’t you give him a call and check?” she says. 

Chaper 11  Katniss comes home to a surprise I freaking love this part

By the time I reach my house, my left heel will bear no weight at all. I decide to tell my mother I was trying to mend a leak in the roof of our old house and slid off. As for the missing food, I’ll just be vague about who I handed it out to. I drag myself in the door, all ready to collapse in front of the fire. But instead I get another shock. Two Peacekeepers, a man and a woman, are standing in the doorway to our kitchen. The woman remains impassive, but I catch the flicker of surprise on the man’s face. I am unanticipated. They know I was in the woods and should be trapped there now. “Hello,” I say in a neutral voice. My mother appears behind them, but keeps her distance. “Here she is, just in time for dinner,” she says a little too brightly. I’m very late for dinner. I consider removing my boots as I normally would but doubt I can manage it without revealing my injuries. Instead I just pull off my wet hood and shake the snow from my hair. “Can I help you with something?” I ask the Peacekeepers. “Head Peacekeeper Thread sent us with a message for you,” says the woman. “They’ve been waiting for hours,” my mother adds. They’ve been waiting for me to fail to return. To confirm I got electrocuted by the fence or trapped in the woods so they could take my family in for questioning. “Must be an important message,” I say. “May we ask where you’ve been, Miss Everdeen?” the woman asks. “Easier to ask where I haven’t been,” I say with a sound of exasperation. I cross into the kitchen, forcing myself to use my foot normally even though every step is excruciating. I pass between the Peacekeepers and make it to the table all right. I fling my bag down and turn to Prim, who’s standing stiffly by the hearth. Haymitch and Peeta are there as well, sitting in a pair of matching rockers, playing a game of chess. Were they here by chance or “invited” by the Peacekeepers? Either way, I’m glad to see them. “So where haven’t you been?” says Haymitch in a bored voice. “Well, I haven’t been talking to the Goat Man about getting Prim’s goat pregnant, because someone gave me completely inaccurate information as to where he lives,” I say to Prim emphatically. “No, I didn’t,” says Prim. “I told you exactly.” “You said he lives beside the west entrance to the mine,” I say. “The east entrance,” Prim corrects me. “You distinctly said the west, because then I said, 'Next to the slag heap?’ and you said, 'Yeah,’” I say. “The slag heap next to the east entrance,” says Prim patiently. “No. When did you say that?” I demand. “Last night,” Haymitch chimes in. “It was definitely the east,” adds Peeta. He looks at Haymitch and they laugh. I glare at Peeta and he tries to look contrite. “I’m sorry, but it’s what I’ve been saying. You don’t listen when people talk to you.” “Bet people told you he didn’t live there today and you didn’t listen again,” says Haymitch. “Shut up, Haymitch,” I say, clearly indicating he’s right. Haymitch and Peeta crack up and Prim allows herself a smile. “Fine. Somebody else can arrange to get the stupid goat knocked up,” I say, which makes them laugh more. And I think, This is why they’ve made it this far, Haymitch and Peeta. Nothing throws them. I look at the Peacekeepers. The man’s smiling but the woman is unconvinced. “What’s in the bag?” she asks sharply.

I know she’s hoping for game or wild plants. Something that clearly condemns me. I dump the contents on the table. “See for yourself.”

“Oh, good,” says my mother, examining the cloth. “We’re running low on bandages.”

Peeta comes to the table and opens the candy bag. “Ooh, peppermints,” he says, popping one in his mouth.

“They’re mine.” I take a swipe for the bag. He tosses it to Haymitch, who stuffs a fistful of sweets in his mouth before passing the bag to a giggling Prim. “None of you deserves candy!” I say.

“What, because we’re right?” Peeta wraps his arms around me. I give a small yelp of pain as my tailbone objects. I try to turn it into a sound of indignation, but I can see in his eyes that he knows I’m hurt. “Okay, Prim said west. I distinctly heard west. And we’re all idiots. How’s that?”

“Better,” I say, and accept his kiss. Then I look at the Peacekeepers as if I’m suddenly remembering they’re there. “You have a message for me?”

“From Head Peacekeeper Thread,” says the woman. “He wanted you to know that the fence surrounding District Twelve will now have electricity twenty-four hours a day.”

“Didn’t it already?” I ask, a little too innocently.

“He thought you might be interested in passing this information on to your cousin,” says the woman.

“Thank you. I’ll tell him. I’m sure we’ll all sleep a little more soundly now that security has addressed that lapse.” I’m pushing things, I know it, but the comment gives me a sense of satisfaction.

The woman’s jaw tightens. None of this has gone as planned, but she has no further orders. She gives me a curt nod and leaves, the man trailing in her wake. When my mother has locked the door behind them, I slump against the table.

Chapter 11  They all know Katniss is hurt and Peeta is literally the sweetest human out there

“What is it?” says Peeta, holding me steadily. “Oh, I banged up my left foot. The heel. And my tail-bone’s had a bad day, too.” He helps me over to one of the rockers and I lower myself onto the padded cushion. My mother eases off my boots. “What happened?” “I slipped and fell,” I say. Four pairs of eyes look at me with disbelief. “On some ice.” But we all know the house must be bugged and it’s not safe to talk openly. Not here, not now. Having stripped off my sock, my mother’s fingers probe the bones in my left heel and I wince. “There might be a break,” she says. She checks the other foot. “This one seems all right.” She judges my tailbone to be badly bruised. My mother gives me a cup of chamomile tea with a dose of sleep syrup, and my eyelids begin to droop immediately. She wraps my bad foot, and Peeta volunteers to get me to bed. I start out by leaning on his shoulder, but I’m so wobbly he just scoops me up and carries me upstairs. He tucks me in and says good night but I catch his hand and hold him there. A side effect of the sleep syrup is that it makes people less inhibited, like white liquor, and I know I have to control my tongue. But I don’t want him to go. In fact, I want him to climb in with me, to be there when the nightmares hit tonight. For some reason that I can’t quite form, I know I’m not allowed to ask that. “Don’t go yet. Not until I fall asleep,” I say. Peeta sits on the side of the bed, warming my hand in both of his. “Almost thought you’d changed your mind today. When you were late for dinner.” I’m foggy but I can guess what he means. With the fence going on and me showing up late and the Peacekeepers waiting, he thought I’d made a run for it, maybe with Gale. “No, I’d have told you,” I say. I pull his hand up and lean my cheek against the back of it, taking in the faint scent of cinnamon and dill from the breads he must have baked today. I want to tell him about Twill and Bonnie and the uprising and the fantasy of District 13, but it’s not safe to and I can feel myself slipping away, so I just get out one more sentence. “Stay with me.” As the tendrils of sleep syrup pull me down, I hear him whisper a word back, but I don’t quite catch it.

I’m further reassured when Peeta casually tells me the power is off in sections of the fence because crews are out securing the base of the chain link to the ground. Thread must believe I somehow got under the thing, even with that deadly current running through it. It’s a break for the district, having the Peacekeepers busy doing something besides abusing people. Peeta comes by every day to bring me cheese buns and begins to help me work on the family book. It’s an old thing, made of parchment and leather. Some herbalist on my mother’s side of the family started it ages ago. The book’s composed of page after page of ink drawings of plants with descriptions of their medical uses. My father added a section on edible plants that was my guidebook to keeping us alive after his death. For a long time, I’ve wanted to record my own knowledge in it. Things I learned from experience or from Gale, and then the information I picked up when I was training for the Games. I didn’t because I’m no artist and it’s so crucial that the pictures are drawn in exact detail. That’s where Peeta comes in. Some of the plants he knows already, others we have dried samples of, and others I have to describe. He makes sketches on scrap paper until I’m satisfied they’re right, then I let him draw them in the book. After that, I carefully print all I know about the plant. It’s quiet, absorbing work that helps take my mind off my troubles. I like to watch his hands as he works, making a blank page bloom with strokes of ink, adding touches of color to our previously black and yellowish book. His face takes on a special look when he concentrates. His usual easy expression is replaced by something more intense and removed that suggests an entire world locked away inside him. I’ve seen flashes of this before: in the arena, or when he speaks to a crowd, or that time he shoved the Peacekeepers’ guns away from me in District 11. I don’t know quite what to make of it. I also become a little fixated on his eyelashes, which ordinarily you don’t notice much because they’re so blond. But up close, in the sunlight slanting in from the window, they’re a light golden color and so long I don’t see how they keep from getting all tangled up when he blinks. One afternoon Peeta stops shading a blossom and looks up so suddenly that I start, as though I were caught spying on him, which in a strange way maybe I was. But he only says, “You know, I think this is the first time we’ve ever done anything normal together.” “Yeah,” I agree. Our whole relationship has been tainted by the Games. Normal was never a part of it. “Nice for a change.” Each afternoon he carries me downstairs for a change of scenery and I unnerve everyone by turning on the television. Usually we only watch when it’s mandatory, because the mixture of propaganda and displays of the Capitol’s power - including clips from seventy-four years of Hunger Games - is so odious. But now I’m looking for something special. The mockingjay that Bonnie and Twill are basing all their hopes on. I know it’s probably foolishness, but if it is, I want to rule it out. And erase the idea of a thriving District 13 from my mind for good.

Chapter 12

Staying quietly in bed is harder after that. I want to be doing something, finding out more about District 13 or helping in the cause to bring down the Capitol. Instead I sit around stuffing myself with cheese buns and watching Peeta sketch. Haymitch stops by occasionally to bring me news from town, which is always bad. More people being punished or dropping from starvation.

Chapter 13

“Thanks,” I say. I should go see Peeta now, but I don’t want to. My head’s spinning from the drink, and I’m so wiped out, who knows what he could get me to agree to? No, now I have to go home to face my mother and Prim. As I stagger up the steps to my house, the front door opens and Gale pulls me into his arms. “I was wrong. We should have gone when you said,” he whispers. “No,” I say. I’m having trouble focusing, and liquor keeps sloshing out of my bottle and down the back of Gale’s jacket, but he doesn’t seem to care. “It’s not too late,” he says. Over his shoulder, I see my mother and Prim clutching each other in the doorway. We run. They die. And now I’ve got Peeta to protect. End of discussion. “Yeah, it is.” My knees give way and he’s holding me up. As the alcohol overcomes my mind, I hear the glass bottle shatter on the floor. This seems appropriate since I have obviously lost my grip on everything.

Chapter 14 ( Okay this hug tho)

So I go to bed and, sure enough, within a few hours I awake from a nightmare where that old woman from District 4 transforms into a large rodent and gnaws on my face. I know I was screaming, but no one comes. Not Peeta, not even one of the Capitol attendants. I pull on a robe to try to calm the gooseflesh crawling over my body. Staying in my compartment is impossible, so I decide to go find someone to make me tea or hot chocolate or anything. Maybe Haymitch is still up. Surely he isn’t asleep. I order warm milk, the most calming thing I can think of, from an attendant. Hearing voices from the television room, I go in and find Peeta. Beside him on the couch is the box Effie sent of tapes of the old Hunger Games. I recognize the episode in which Brutus became victor. Peeta rises and flips off the tape when he sees me. “Couldn’t sleep?” “Not for long,” I say. I pull the robe more securely around me as I remember the old woman transforming into the rodent. “Want to talk about it?” he asks. Sometimes that can help, but I just shake my head, feeling weak that people I haven’t even fought yet already haunt me. When Peeta holds out his arms, I walk straight into them. It’s the first time since they announced the Quarter Quell that he’s offered me any sort of affection. He’s been more like a very demanding trainer, always pushing, always insisting Haymitch and I run faster, eat more, know our enemy better. Lover? Forget about that. He abandoned any pretense of even being my friend. I wrap my arms tightly around his neck before he can order me to do push-ups or something. Instead he pulls me in close and buries his face in my hair. Warmth radiates from the spot where his lips just touch my neck, slowly spreading through the rest of me. It feels so good, so impossibly good, that I know I will not be the first to let go. And why should I? I have said good-bye to Gale. I’ll never see him again, that’s for certain. Nothing I do now can hurt him. He won’t see it or he’ll think I am acting for the cameras. That, at least, is one weight off my shoulders. The arrival of the Capitol attendant with the warm milk is what breaks us apart. He sets a tray with a steaming ceramic jug and two mugs on a table. “I brought an extra cup,” he says. “Thanks,” I say. “And I added a touch of honey to the milk. For sweetness. And just a pinch of spice,” he adds. He looks at us like he wants to say more, then gives his head a slight shake and backs out of the room. “What’s with him?” I say. “I think he feels bad for us,” says Peeta. “Right,” I say, pouring the milk. “I mean it. I don’t think the people in the Capitol are going to be all that happy about our going back in,” says Peeta. “Or the other victors. They get attached to their champions.” “I’m guessing they’ll get over it once the blood starts flowing,” I say flatly. Really, if there’s one thing I don’t have time for, it’s worrying about how the Quarter Quell will affect the mood in the Capitol. “So, you’re watching all the tapes again?”

“Okay,” Peeta agrees. He puts in the tape and I curl up next to him on the couch with my milk, which is really delicious with the honey and spices, and lose myself in the Fiftieth Hunger Games. After the anthem, they show President Snow drawing the envelope for the second Quarter Quell. He looks younger but just as repellent. He reads from the square of paper in the same onerous voice he used for ours, informing Panem that in honor of the Quarter Quell, there will be twice the number of tributes. The editors smash cut right into the reapings, where name after name after name is called.  

Peeta clicks off the tape and we sit there in silence for a while.

Chapter 17

Peeta walks me down to my room in silence, but before he can say good night, I wrap my arms around him and rest my head against his chest. His hands slide up my back and his cheek leans against my hair. “I’m sorry if I made things worse,” I say. “No worse than I did. Why did you do it, anyway?” he says. “I don’t know. To show them that I’m more than just a piece in their Games?” I say. He laughs a little, no doubt remembering the night before the Games last year. We were on the roof, neither of us able to sleep. Peeta had said something of the sort then, but I hadn’t understood what he meant. Now I do. “Me, too,” he tells me. “And I’m not saying I’m not going to try. To get you home, I mean. But if I’m perfectly honest about it …” “If you’re perfectly honest about it, you think President Snow has probably given them direct orders to make sure we die in the arena anyway,” I say. “It’s crossed my mind,” says Peeta. It’s crossed my mind, too. Repeatedly. But while I know I’ll never leave that arena alive, I’m still holding on to the hope that Peeta will. After all, he didn’t pull out those berries, I did. No one has ever doubted that Peeta’s defiance was motivated by love. So maybe President Snow will prefer keeping him alive, crushed and heartbroken, as a living warning to others. “But even if that happens, everyone will know we’ve gone out fighting, right?” Peeta asks. “Everyone will,” I reply. And for the first time, I distance myself from the personal tragedy that has consumed me since they announced the Quell. I remember the old man they shot in District 11, and Bonnie and Twill, and the rumored uprisings. Yes, everyone in the districts will be watching me to see how I handle this death sentence, this final act of President Snow’s dominance. They will be looking for some sign that their battles have not been in vain. If I can make it clear that I’m still defying the Capitol right up to the end, the Capitol will have killed me … but not my spirit. What better way to give hope to the rebels? The beauty of this idea is that my decision to keep Peeta alive at the expense of my own life is itself an act of defiance. A refusal to play the Hunger Games by the Capitol’s rules. My private agenda dovetails completely with my public one. And if I really could save Peeta … in terms of a revolution, this would be ideal. Because I will be more valuable dead. They can turn me into some kind of martyr for the cause and paint my face on banners, and it will do more to rally people than anything I could do if I was living. But Peeta would be more valuable alive, and tragic, because he will be able to turn his pain into words that will transform people. Peeta would lose it if he knew I was thinking any of this, so I only say, “So what should we do with our last few days?”

“I just want to spend every possible minute of the rest of my life with you,” Peeta replies.

“Come on, then,” I say, pulling him into my room.

It feels like such a luxury, sleeping with Peeta again. I didn’t realize until now how starved I’ve been for human closeness. For the feel of him beside me in the darkness. I wish I hadn’t wasted the last couple of nights shutting him out. I sink down into sleep, enveloped in his warmth, and when I open my eyes again, daylight’s streaming through the windows.

“No nightmares,” he says.

“No nightmares,” I confirm. “You?”

“None. I’d forgotten what a real night’s sleep feels like,” he says.

We lie there for a while, in no rush to begin the day. Tomorrow night will be the televised interview, so today Effie and Haymitch should be coaching us. More high heels and sarcastic comments, I think. But then the redheaded Avox girl comes in with a note from Effie saying that, given our recent tour, both she and Haymitch have agreed we can handle ourselves adequately in public. The coaching sessions have been canceled.

“Really?” says Peeta, taking the note from my hand and examining it. “Do you know what this means? We’ll have the whole day to ourselves.”

“It’s too bad we can’t go somewhere,” I say wistfully.

“Who says we can’t?” he asks.

The roof. We order a bunch of food, grab some blankets, and head up to the roof for a picnic. A daylong picnic in the flower garden that tinkles with wind chimes. We eat. We lie in the sun. I snap off hanging vines and use my newfound knowledge from training to practice knots and weave nets. Peeta sketches me. We make up a game with the force field that surrounds the roof - one of us throws an apple into it and the other person has to catch it.

No one bothers us. By late afternoon, I lie with my head on Peeta’s lap, making a crown of flowers while he fiddles with my hair, claiming he’s practicing his knots. After a while, his hands go still. “What?” I ask.

“I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now, and live in it forever,” he says.

Usually this sort of comment, the kind that hints of his undying love for me, makes me feel guilty and awful. But I feel so warm and relaxed and beyond worrying about a future I’ll never have, I just let the word slip out. “Okay.”

I can hear the smile in his voice. “Then you’ll allow it?”

“I’ll allow it,” I say.

His fingers go back to my hair and I doze off, but he rouses me to see the sunset. It’s a spectacular yellow and orange blaze behind the skyline of the Capitol. “I didn’t think you’d want to miss it,” he says.

“Thanks,” I say. Because I can count on my fingers the number of sunsets I have left, and I don’t want to miss any of them.

We don’t go and join the others for dinner, and no one summons us.

“I’m glad. I’m tired of making everyone around me so miserable,” says Peeta. “Everybody crying. Or Haymitch …” He doesn’t need to go on.

We stay on the roof until bedtime and then quietly slip down to my room without encountering anyone.

The next morning, we’re roused by my prep team. The sight of Peeta and me sleeping together is too much for Octavia, because she bursts into tears right away. “You remember what Cinna told us,” Venia says fiercely. Octavia nods and goes out sobbing.

Chapter 18 Peeta’s interview

As I pass Peeta, who’s headed for his interview, he doesn’t meet my eyes. I take my seat carefully, but aside from the puffs of smoke here and there, I seem unharmed, so I turn my attention to him. Caesar and Peeta have been a natural team since they first appeared together a year ago. Their easy give-and-take, comic timing, and ability to segue into heart-wrenching moments, like Peeta’s confession of love for me, have made them a huge success with the audience. They effortlessly open with a few jokes about fires and feathers and overcooking poultry. But anyone can see that Peeta is preoccupied, so Caesar directs the conversation right into the subject that’s on everyone’s minds. “So, Peeta, what was it like when, after all you’ve been through, you found out about the Quell?” asks Caesar. “I was in shock. I mean, one minute I’m seeing Katniss looking so beautiful in all these wedding gowns, and the next …” Peeta trails off. “You realized there was never going to be a wedding?” asks Caesar gently. Peeta pauses for a long moment, as if deciding something. He looks out at the spellbound audience, then at tin floor, then finally up at Caesar. “Caesar, do you think all our friends here can keep a secret?” An uncomfortable laugh emanates from the audience. What can he mean? Keep a secret from who? Our whole world is watching. “I feel quite certain of it,” says Caesar. “We’re already married,” says Peeta quietly. The crowd reacts in astonishment, and I have to bury my face in the folds of my skirt so they can’t see my confusion. Where on earth is he going with this? “But … how can that be?” asks Caesar. “Oh, it’s not an official marriage. We didn’t go to the Justice Building or anything. But we have this marriage ritual in District Twelve. I don’t know what it’s like in the other districts. But there’s this thing we do,” says Peeta, and he briefly describes the toasting. “Were your families there?” asks Caesar. “No, we didn’t tell anyone. Not even Haymitch. And Katniss’s mother would never have approved. But you see, we knew if we were married in the Capitol, there wouldn’t be a toasting. And neither of us really wanted to wait any longer. So one day, we just did it,” Peeta says. “And to us, we’re more married than any piece of paper or big party could make us.” “So this was before the Quell?” says Caesar. “Of course before the Quell. I’m sure we’d never have done it after we knew,” says Peeta, starting to get upset. “But who could’ve seen it coming? No one. We went through the Games, we were victors, everyone seemed so thrilled to see us together, and then out of nowhere - I mean, how could we anticipate a thing like that?” “You couldn’t, Peeta.” Caesar puts an arm around his shoulders. “As you say, no one could’ve. But I have to confess, I’m glad you two had at least a few months of happiness together.” Enormous applause. As if encouraged, I look up from my feathers and let the audience see my tragic smile of thanks. The residual smoke from the feathers has made my eyes teary, which adds a very nice touch. “I’m not glad,” says Peeta. “I wish we had waited until the whole thing was done officially.” This takes even Caesar aback. “Surely even a brief time is better than no time?” “Maybe I’d think that, too, Caesar,” says Peeta bitterly, “if it weren’t for the baby.” There. He’s done it again. Dropped a bomb that wipes out the efforts of every tribute who came before him. Well, maybe not. Maybe this year he has only lit the fuse on a bomb that the victors themselves have been building. Hoping someone would be able to detonate it. Perhaps thinking it would be me in my bridal gown. Not knowing how much I rely on Cinna’s talents, whereas Peeta needs nothing more than his wits. As the bomb explodes, it sends accusations of injustice and barbarism and cruelty flying out in every direction. Even the most Capitol-loving, Games-hungry, bloodthirsty person out there can’t ignore, at least for a moment, how horrific the whole thing is. I am pregnant. The audience can’t absorb the news right away. It has to strike them and sink in and be confirmed by other voices before they begin to sound like a herd of wounded animals, moaning, shrieking, calling for help. And me? I know my face is projected in a tight close-up on the screen, but I don’t make any effort to hide it. Because for a moment, even I am working through what Peeta has said. Isn’t it the thing I dreaded most about the wedding, about the future - the loss of my children to the Games? And it could be true now, couldn’t it? If I hadn’t spent my life building up layers of defenses until I recoil at even the suggestion of marriage or a family? Caesar can’t rein in the crowd again, not even when the buzzer sounds. Peeta nods his good-bye and comes back to his seat without any more conversation. I can see Caesar’s lips moving, but the place is in total chaos and I can’t hear a word. Only the blast of the anthem, cranked up so loud I can feel it vibrating through my bones, lets us know where we stand in the program. I automatically rise and, as I do, I sense Peeta reaching out for me. Tears run down his face as I take his hand. How real are the tears? Is this an acknowledgment that he has been stalked by the same fears that I have? That every victor has? Every parent in every district in Panem?

The moment we step off the elevator, Peeta grips my shoulders. “There isn’t much time, so tell me. Is there anything I have to apologize for?”

“Nothing,” I say. It was a big leap to take without my okay, but I’m just as glad I didn’t know, didn’t have time to second-guess him, to let any guilt over Gale detract from how I really feel about what Peeta did. Which is empowered.

We walk down the hallway. Peeta wants to stop by his room to shower off the makeup and meet me in a few minutes, but I won’t let him. I’m certain that if a door shuts between us, it will lock and I’ll have to spend the night without him. Besides, I have a shower in my room. I refuse to let go of his hand. Do we sleep? I don’t know. We spend the night holding each other, in some halfway land between dreams and waking. Not talking. Both afraid to disturb the other in the hope that we’ll be able to store up a few precious minutes of rest. Cinna and Portia arrive with the dawn, and I know Peeta will have to go. Tributes enter the arena alone. He gives me a light kiss. “See you soon,” he says.

See you soon 

Chapter  19

Finnick has reached Peeta now and is towing him back, one arm across his chest while the other propels them through the water with easy strokes. Peeta rides along without resisting. I don’t know what Finnick said or did that convinced him to put his life in his hands - showed him the bangle, maybe. Or just the sight of me waiting might have been enough. When they reach the sand, I help haul Peeta up onto dry land.

“Hello, again,” he says, and gives me a kiss. “We’ve got allies.”

“Yes. Just as Haymitch intended,” I answer. “Remind me, did we make deals with anyone else?” Peeta asks.

“Only Mags, I think,” I say. I nod toward the old woman doggedly making her way toward us.

“Well, I can’t leave Mags behind,” says Finnick. “She’s one of the few people who actually likes me.”

Chapter 19/20  Cpr is a kind of kissing 

I rush over to where he lies, motionless in a web of vines. “Peeta?” There’s a faint smell of singed hair. I call his name again, giving him a little shake, but he’s unresponsive. My fingers fumble across his lips, where there’s no warm breath although moments ago he was panting. I press my ear against his chest, to the spot where I always rest my head, where I know I will hear the strong and steady beat of his heart. Instead, I find silence.

“Peeta!” I scream. I shake him harder, even resort to slapping his face, but it’s no use. His heart has failed. I am slapping emptiness. “Peeta!” Finnick props Mags against a tree and pushes me out of the way. “Let me.” His fingers touch points at Peeta’s neck, run over the bones in his ribs and spine. Then he pinches Peeta’s nostrils shut. “No!” I yell, hurling myself at Finnick, for surely he intends to make certain that Peeta’s dead, to keep any hope of life from returning to him. Finnick’s hand comes up and hits me so hard, so squarely in the chest that I go flying back into a nearby tree trunk. I’m stunned for a moment, by the pain, by trying to regain my wind, as I see Finnick close off Peeta’s nose again. From where I sit, I pull an arrow, whip the notch into place, and am about to let it fly when I’m stopped by the sight of Finnick kissing Peeta. And it’s so bizarre, even for Finnick, that I stay my hand. No, he’s not kissing him. He’s got Peeta’s nose blocked off but his mouth tilted open, and he’s blowing air into his lungs. I can see this, I can actually see Peeta’s chest rising and falling. Then Finnick unzips the top of Peeta’s jumpsuit and begins to pump the spot over his heart with the heels of his hands. Now that I’ve gotten through my shock, I understand what he’s trying to do. Once in a blue moon, I’ve seen my mother try something similar, but not often. If your heart fails in District 12, it’s unlikely your family could get you to my mother in time, anyway. So her usual patients are burned or wounded or ill. Or starving, of course. But Finnick’s world is different. Whatever he’s doing, he’s done it before. There’s a very set rhythm and method. And I find the arrow tip sinking to the ground as I lean in to watch, desperately, for some sign of success. Agonizing minutes drag past as my hopes diminish. Around the time that I’m deciding it’s too late, that Peeta’s dead, moved on, unreachable forever, he gives a small cough and Finnick sits back. I leave my weapons in the dirt as I fling myself at him. “Peeta?” I say softly. I brush the damp blond strands of hair back from his forehead, find the pulse drumming against my fingers at his neck. His lashes flutter open and his eyes meet mine. “Careful,” he says weakly. “There’s a force field up ahead.” I laugh, but there are tears running down my cheeks. “Must be a lot stronger than the one on the Training Center roof,” he says. “I’m all right, though. Just a little shaken.” “You were dead! Your heart stopped!” I burst out, before really considering if this is a good idea. I clap my hand over my mouth because I’m starting to make those awful choking sounds that happen when I sob. “Well, it seems to be working now,” he says. “It’s all right, Katniss.” I nod my head but the sounds aren’t stopping. “Katniss?” Now Peeta’s worried about me, which adds to the insanity of it all. “It’s okay. It’s just her hormones,” says Finnick. “From the baby.” I look up and see him, sitting back on his knees but still panting a bit from the climb and the heat and the effort of bringing Peeta back from the dead. “No. It’s not - ” I get out, but I’m cut off by an even more hysterical round of sobbing that seems only to confirm what Finnick said about the baby. He meets my eyes and I glare at him through my tears. It’s stupid, I know, that his efforts make me so vexed. All I wanted was to keep Peeta alive, and I couldn’t and Finnick could, and I should be nothing but grateful. And I am. But I am also furious because it means that I will never stop owing Finnick Odair. Ever. So how can I kill him in his sleep? I expect to see a smug or sarcastic expression on his face, but his look is strangely quizzical. He glances between Peeta and me, as if trying to figure something out, then gives his head a slight shake as if to clear it. “How are you?” he asks Peeta. “Do you think you can move on?” I notice a gleam of gold on Peeta’s chest. I reach out and retrieve the disk that hangs from a chain around his neck. My mockingjay has been engraved on it. “Is this your token?” I ask. “Yes. Do you mind that I used your mockingjay? I wanted us to match,” he says. “No, of course I don’t mind.” I force a smile. Peeta showing up in the arena wearing a mockingjay is both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, it should give a boost to the rebels in the district. On the other, it’s hard to imagine President Snow will overlook it, and that makes the job of keeping Peeta alive harder.

Chapter 24

know it’s stopped when I feel Peeta’s hands on me, feel myself lifted from the ground and out of the jungle. But I stay eyes squeezed shut, hands over my ears, muscles too rigid to release. Peeta holds me on his lap, speaking soothing words, rocking me gently. It takes a long time before I begin to relax the iron grip on my body. And when I do, the trembling begins. "It’s all right, Katniss,” he whispers. “You didn’t hear them,” I answer. “I heard Prim. Right in the beginning. But it wasn’t her,” he says. “It was a jabberjay.” “It was her. Somewhere. The jabberjay just recorded it,” I say. “No, that’s what they want you to think. The same way I wondered if Glimmer’s eyes were in that mutt last year. But those weren’t Glimmer’s eyes. And that wasn’t Prim’s voice. Or if it was, they took it from an interview or something and distorted the sound. Made it say whatever she was saying,” he says. “No, they were torturing her,” I answer. “She’s probably dead.” “Katniss, Prim isn’t dead. How could they kill Prim? We’re almost down to the final eight of us. And what happens then?” Peeta says. “Seven more of us die,” I say hopelessly. “No, back home. What happens when they reach the final eight tributes in the Games?” He lifts my chin so I have to look at him. Forces me to make eye contact. “What happens? At the final eight?” I know he’s trying to help me, so I make myself think. “At the final eight?” I repeat. “They interview your family and friends back home.” “That’s right,” says Peeta. “They interview your family and friends. And can they do that if they’ve killed them all?” “No?” I ask, still unsure. “No. That’s how we know Prim’s alive. She’ll be the first one they interview, won’t she?” he asks. I want to believe him. Badly. It’s just … those voices … “First Prim. Then your mother. Your cousin, Gale. Madge,” he continues. “It was a trick, Katniss. A horrible one. But we’re the only ones who can be hurt by it. We’re the ones in the Games. Not them.” “You really believe that?” I say. “I really do,” says Peeta. I waver, thinking of how Peeta can make anyone believe anything. I look over at Finnick for confirmation, see he’s fixated on Peeta, his words. “Do you believe it, Finnick?” I ask. “It could be true. I don’t know,” he says. “Could they do that, Beetee? Take someone’s regular voice and make it …” “Oh, yes. It’s not even that difficult, Finnick. Our children learn a similar technique in school,” says Beetee. “Of course Peeta’s right. The whole country adores Katniss’s little sister. If they really killed her like this, they’d probably have an uprising on their hands,” says Johanna flatly. “Don’t want that, do they?” She throws back her head and shouts, “Whole country in rebellion? Wouldn’t want anything like that!”

THE BEACH SCENE  Chapter 24 if your wondering

Peeta and I sit on the damp sand, facing away from each other, my right shoulder and hip pressed against his. I watch the water as he watches the jungle, which is better for me. I’m still haunted by the voices of the jabberjays, which unfortunately the insects can’t drown out. After a while I rest my head against his shoulder. Feel his hand caress my hair. “Katniss,” he says softly, “it’s no use pretending we don’t know what the other one is trying to do.” No, I guess there isn’t, but it’s no fun discussing it, either. Well, not for us, anyway. The Capitol viewers will be glued to their sets so they don’t miss one wretched word. “I don’t know what kind of deal you think you’ve made with Haymitch, but you should know he made me promises as well.” Of course, I know this, too. He told Peeta they could keep me alive so that he wouldn’t be suspicious. “So I think we can assume he was lying to one of us.” This gets my attention. A double deal. A double promise. With only Haymitch knowing which one is real. I raise my head, meet Peeta’s eyes. “Why are you saying this now?” “Because I don’t want you forgetting how different our circumstances are. If you die, and I live, there’s no life for me at all back in District Twelve. You’re my whole life,” he says. “I would never be happy again.” I start to object but he puts a finger to my lips. “It’s different for you. I’m not saying it wouldn’t be hard. But there are other people who’d make your life worth living.” Peeta pulls the chain with the gold disk from around his neck. He holds it in the moonlight so I can clearly see the mockingjay. Then his thumb slides along a catch I didn’t notice before and the disk pops open. It’s not solid, as I had thought, but a locket. And within the locket are photos. On the right side, my mother and Prim, laughing. And on the left, Gale. Actually smiling. There is nothing in the world that could break me faster at this moment than these three faces. After what I heard this afternoon … it is the perfect weapon. “Your family needs you, Katniss,” Peeta says. My family. My mother. My sister. And my pretend cousin Gale. But Peeta’s intention is clear. That Gale really is my family, or will be one day, if I live. That I’ll marry him. So Peeta’s giving me his life and Gale at the same time. To let me know I shouldn’t ever have doubts about it. Everything. That’s what Peeta wants me to take from him. I wait for him to mention the baby, to play to the cameras, but he doesn’t. And that’s how I know that none of this is part of the Games. That he is telling me the truth about what he feels. “No one really needs me,” he says, and there’s no self-pity in his voice. It’s true his family doesn’t need him. They will mourn him, as will a handful of friends. But they will get on. Even Haymitch, with the help of a lot of white liquor, will get on. I realize only one person will be damaged beyond repair if Peeta dies. Me. “I do,” I say. “I need you.” He looks upset, takes a deep breath as if to begin a long argument, and that’s no good, no good at all, because he’ll start going on about Prim and my mother and everything and I’ll just get confused. So before he can talk, I stop his lips with a kiss. I feel that thing again. The thing I only felt once before. In the cave last year, when I was trying to get Haymitch to send us food. I kissed Peeta about a thousand times during those Games and after. But there was only one kiss that made me feel something stir deep inside. Only one that made me want more. But my head wound started bleeding and he made me lie down. This time, there is nothing but us to interrupt us. And after a few attempts, Peeta gives up on talking. The sensation inside me grows warmer and spreads out from my chest, down through my body, out along my arms and legs, to the tips of my being. Instead of satisfying me, the kisses have the opposite effect, of making my need greater. I thought I was something of an expert on hunger, but this is an entirely new kind. “I can’t sleep anymore,” he says. “One of you should rest.” Only then does he seem to notice our expressions, the way we’re wrapped around each other. “Or both of you. I can watch alone.” Peeta won’t let him, though. “It’s too dangerous,” he says. “I’m not tired. You lie down, Katniss.” I don’t object because I do need to sleep if I’m to be of any use keeping him alive. I let him lead me over to where the others are. He puts the chain with the locket around my neck, then rests his hand over the spot where our baby would be. “You’re going to make a great mother, you know,” he says. He kisses me one last time and goes back to Finnick. His reference to the baby signals that our time-out from the Games is over. That he knows the audience will be wondering why he hasn’t used the most persuasive argument in his arsenal. That sponsors must be manipulated. But as I stretch out on the sand I wonder, could it be more? Like a reminder to me that I could still one day have kids with Gale? Well, if that was it, it was a mistake. Because for one thing, that’s never been part of my plan. And for another, if only one of us can be a parent, anyone can see it should be Peeta. As I drift off, I try to imagine that world, somewhere in the future, with no Games, no Capitol. A place like the meadow in the song I sang to Rue as she died. Where Peeta’s child could be safe

Chapter 25

Peeta rinses the pearl off in the water and hands it to me. “For you.” I hold it out on my palm and examine its iridescent surface in the sunlight. Yes, I will keep it. For the few remaining hours of my life I will keep it close. This last gift from Peeta. The only one I can really accept. Perhaps it will give me strength in the final moments. “Thanks,” I say, closing my fist around it. I look coolly into the blue eyes of the person who is now my greatest opponent, the person who would keep me alive at his own expense. And I promise myself I will defeat his plan. The laughter drains from those eyes, and they are staring so intensely into mine, it’s like they can read my thoughts. “The locket didn’t work, did it?” Peeta says, even though Finnick is right there. Even though everyone can hear him. “Katniss?” “It worked,” I say. “But not the way I wanted it to,” he says, averting his glance. After that he will look at nothing but oysters.

I have the pearl, though, secured in a parachute with the spile and the medicine at my waist. I hope it makes it back to District 12. Surely my mother and Prim will know to return it to Peeta before they bury my body.

Chapter 26  

I don’t like the plan any more than Peeta does. How can I protect him at a distance? But Beetee’s right. With his leg, Peeta is too slow to make it down the slope in time. Johanna and I are the fastest and most sure-footed on the jungle floor. I can’t think of any alternative. And if I trust anyone here besides Peeta, it’s Beetee. “It’s okay,” I tell Peeta. “We’ll just drop the coil and come straight back up.” “Not into the lightning zone,” Beetee reminds me. “Head for the tree in the one-to-two-o'clock sector. If you find you’re running out of time, move over one more. Don’t even think about going back on the beach, though, until I can assess the damage.” I take Peeta’s face in my hands. “Don’t worry. I’ll see you at midnight.” I give him a kiss and, before he can object any further, I let go and turn to Johanna. “Ready?”

Mockingjay .

Chapter 3

I feel around for the parachute and slide my fingers inside until they close around the pearl. I sit back on my bed cross-legged and find myself rubbing the smooth iridescent surface of the pearl back and forth against my lips. For some reason, it’s soothing. A cool kiss from the giver himself.

skim my list. “Gale. I’ll need him with me to do this.” “With you how? Off camera? By your side at all times? Do you want him presented as your new lover?” Coin asks. She hasn’t said this with any particular malice - quite the contrary, her words are very matter-of-fact. But my mouth still drops open in shock. “What?” “I think we should continue the current romance. A quick defection from Peeta could cause the audience to lose sympathy for her,” says Plutarch. “Especially since they think she’s pregnant with his child.” “Agreed. So, on-screen, Gale can simply be portrayed as a fellow rebel. Is that all right?” says Coin. I just stare at her. She repeats herself impatiently. “For Gale. Will that be sufficient?” “We can always work him in as your cousin,” says Fulvia.

“We’re not cousins,” Gale and I say together.

“Right, but we should probably keep that up for appearances’ sake on camera,” says Plutarch. “Off camera, he’s all yours. Anything else?”

I’m rattled by the turn in the conversation. The implications that I could so readily dispose of Peeta, that I’m in love with Gale, that the whole thing has been an act. My cheeks begin to burn. The very notion that I’m devoting any thought to who I want presented as my lover, given our current circumstances, is demeaning. I let my anger propel me into my greatest demand. “When the war is over, if we’ve won, Peeta will be pardoned.”

Dead silence. I feel Gale’s body tense. I guess I should have told him before, but I wasn’t sure how he’d respond. Not when it involved Peeta.

“No form of punishment will be inflicted,” I continue. A new thought occurs to me. “The same goes for the other captured tributes, Johanna and Enobaria.” Frankly, I don’t care about Enobaria, the vicious District 2 tribute. In fact, I dislike her, but it seems wrong to leave her out.

“No,” says Coin flatly.

“Yes,” I shoot back. “It’s not their fault you abandoned them in the arena. Who knows what the Capitol’s doing to them?”

“They’ll be tried with other war criminals and treated as the tribunal sees fit,” she says.

“They’ll be granted immunity!” I feel myself rising from my chair, my voice full and resonant. “You will personally pledge this in front of the entire population of District Thirteen and the remainder of Twelve. Soon. Today. It will be recorded for future generations. You will hold yourself and your government responsible for their safety, or you’ll find yourself another Mockingjay!”

My words hang in the air for a long moment.

Chapter 16

“Always.” In the twilight of morphling, Peeta whispers the word and I go searching for him. It’s a gauzy, violet-tinted world, with no hard edges, and many places to hide. I push through cloud banks, follow faint tracks, catch the scent of cinnamon, of dill. Once I feel his hand on my cheek and try to trap it, but it dissolves like mist through my fingers.

I wish I could meet with Peeta privately. But the audience of doctors has assembled behind the one-way glass, clipboards ready, pens poised. When Haymitch gives me the okay in my earpiece, I slowly open the door. Those blue eyes lock on me instantly. He’s got three restraints on each arm, and a tube that can dispense a knockout drug just in case he loses control. He doesn’t fight to free himself, though, only observes me with the wary look of someone who still hasn’t ruled out that he’s in the presence of a mutt. I walk over until I’m standing about a yard from the bed. There’s nothing to do with my hands, so I cross my arms protectively over my ribs before I speak. “Hey.” “Hey,” he responds. It’s like his voice, almost his voice, except there’s something new in it. An edge of suspicion and reproach. “Haymitch said you wanted to talk to me,” I say. “Look at you, for starters.” It’s like he’s waiting for me to transform into a hybrid drooling wolf right before his eyes. He stares so long I find myself casting furtive glances at the one-way glass, hoping for some direction from Haymitch, but my earpiece stays silent. “You’re not very big, are you? Or particularly pretty?” I know he’s been through hell and back, and yet somehow the observation rubs me the wrong way. “Well, you’ve looked better.” Haymitch’s advice to back off gets muffled by Peeta’s laughter. “And not even remotely nice. To say that to me after all I’ve been through.” “Yeah. We’ve all been through a lot. And you’re the one who was known for being nice. Not me.” I’m doing everything wrong. I don’t know why I feel so defensive. He’s been tortured! He’s been hijacked! What’s wrong with me? Suddenly, I think I might start screaming at him - I’m not even sure about what - so I decide to get out of there. “Look, I don’t feel so well. Maybe I’ll drop by tomorrow.” I’ve just reached the door when his voice stops me. “Katniss. I remember about the bread.” The bread. Our one moment of real connection before the Hunger Games. “They showed you the tape of me talking about it,” I say. “No. Is there a tape of you talking about it? Why didn’t the Capitol use it against me?” he asks. “I made it the day you were rescued,” I answer. The pain in my chest wraps around my ribs like a vise. The dancing was a mistake. “So what do you remember?” “You. In the rain,” he says softly. “Digging in our trash bins. Burning the bread. My mother hitting me. Taking the bread out for the pig but then giving it to you instead.” “That’s it. That’s what happened,” I say. “The next day, after school, I wanted to thank you. But I didn’t know how.” “We were outside at the end of the day. I tried to catch your eye. You looked away. And then…for some reason, I think you picked a dandelion.” I nod. He does remember. I have never spoken about that moment aloud. “I must have loved you a lot.” “You did.” My voice catches and I pretend to cough. “And did you love me?” he asks. I keep my eyes on the tiled floor. “Everyone says I did. Everyone says that’s why Snow had you tortured. To break me.” “That’s not an answer,” he tells me. “I don’t know what to think when they show me some of the tapes. In that first arena, it looked like you tried to kill me with those tracker jackers.” “I was trying to kill all of you,” I say. “You had me treed.” “Later, there’s a lot of kissing. Didn’t seem very genuine on your part. Did you like kissing me?” he asks. “Sometimes,” I admit. “You know people are watching us now?” “I know. What about Gale?” he continues. My anger’s returning. I don’t care about his recovery - this isn’t the business of the people behind the glass. “He’s not a bad kisser either,” I say shortly. “And it was okay with both of us? You kissing the other?” he asks. “No. It wasn’t okay with either of you. But I wasn’t asking your permission,” I tell him. Peeta laughs again, coldly, dismissively. “Well, you’re a piece of work, aren’t you?” Haymitch doesn’t protest when I walk out. Down the hall. Through the beehive of compartments. Find a warm pipe to hide behind in a laundry room. It takes a long time before I get to the bottom of why I’m so upset. When I do, it’s almost too mortifying to admit. All those months of taking it for granted that Peeta thought I was wonderful are over. Finally, he can see me for who I really am. Violent. Distrustful. Manipulative. Deadly. And I hate him for it.

Chapter 18 

I consider saying a final good-bye to Peeta, decide it would only be bad for both of us. But I do slip the pearl into the pocket of my uniform. A token of the boy with the bread.

Chapter 19 

After about an hour, Peeta speaks up. “These last couple of years must have been exhausting for you. Trying to decide whether to kill me or not. Back and forth. Back and forth.” That seems grossly unfair, and my first impulse is to say something cutting. But I revisit my conversation with Haymitch and try to take the first tentative step in Peeta’s direction. “I never wanted to kill you. Except when I thought you were helping the Careers kill me. After that, I always thought of you as…an ally.” That’s a good safe word. Empty of any emotional obligation, but nonthreatening. “Ally.” Peeta says the word slowly, tasting it. “Friend. Lover. Victor. Enemy. Fiancee. Target. Mutt. Neighbor. Hunter. Tribute. Ally. I’ll add it to the list of words I use to try to figure you out.” He weaves the rope in and out of his fingers. “The problem is, I can’t tell what’s real anymore, and what’s made up.” The cessation of rhythmic breathing suggests that either people have woken or have never really been asleep at all. I suspect the latter.

At a few minutes before four, Peeta turns to me again. “Your favorite color…it’s green?” “That’s right.” Then I think of something to add. “And yours is orange.” “Orange?” He seems unconvinced. “Not bright orange. But soft. Like the sunset,” I say. “At least, that’s what you told me once.” “Oh.” He closes his eyes briefly, maybe trying to conjure up that sunset, then nods his head. “Thank you.” But more words tumble out. “You’re a painter. You’re a baker. You like to sleep with the windows open. You never take sugar in your tea. And you always double-knot your shoelaces.” Then I dive into my tent before I do something stupid like cry.

Chapter 21

 Peeta buries his face in his hands for a few moments, then rises to join us. “Should we free his hands?” asks Leeg 1. “No!” Peeta growls at her, drawing his cuffs in close to his body. “No,” I echo. “But I want the key.” Jackson passes it over without a word. I slip it into my pants pocket, where it clicks against the pearl.

In the fluorescent light, the circles under his eyes look like bruises. “There’s still time. You should sleep.” Unresisting, he lies back down, but just stares at the needle on one of the dials as it twitches from side to side. Slowly, as I would with a wounded animal, my hand stretches out and brushes a wave of hair from his forehead. He freezes at my touch, but doesn’t recoil. So I continue to gently smooth back his hair. It’s the first time I have voluntarily touched him since the last arena. “You’re still trying to protect me. Real or not real,” he whispers. “Real,” I answer. It seems to require more explanation. “Because that’s what you and I do. Protect each other.” After a minute or so, he drifts off to sleep.

Chapter 22

“Leave me,” he whispers. “I can’t hang on.” “Yes. You can!” I tell him. Peeta shakes his head. “I’m losing it. I’ll go mad. Like them.” Like the mutts. Like a rabid beast bent on ripping my throat out. And here, finally here in this place, in these circumstances, I will really have to kill him. And Snow will win. Hot, bitter hatred courses through me. Snow has won too much already today. It’s a long shot, it’s suicide maybe, but I do the only thing I can think of. I lean in and kiss Peeta full on the mouth. His whole body starts shuddering, but I keep my lips pressed to his until I have to come up for air. My hands slide up his wrists to clasp his. “Don’t let him take you from me.” Peeta’s panting hard as he fights the nightmares raging in his head. “No. I don’t want to…” I clench his hands to the point of pain. “Stay with me.” His pupils contract to pinpoints, dilate again rapidly, and then return to something resembling normalcy. “Always,” he murmurs

Chapter 23

I think it’s time I give myself up. When everyone finally awakens, I confess. How I lied about the mission, how I jeopardized everyone in pursuit of revenge. There’s a long silence after I finish. Then Gale says, “Katniss, we all knew you were lying about Coin sending you to assassinate Snow.” “You knew, maybe. The soldiers from Thirteen didn’t,” I reply.

“Do you really think Jackson believed you had orders from Coin?” Cressida asks. “Of course she didn’t. But she trusted Boggs, and he’d clearly wanted you to go on.”

“I never even told Boggs what I planned to do,” I say.

“You told everyone in Command!” Gale says. “It was one of your conditions for being the Mockingjay. 'I kill Snow.’”

Those seem like two disconnected things. Negotiating with Coin for the privilege of executing Snow after the war and this unauthorized flight through the Capitol. “But not like this,” I say. “It’s been a complete disaster.”

“I think it would be considered a highly successful mission,” says Gale. “We’ve infiltrated the enemy camp, showing that the Capitol’s defenses can be breached. We’ve managed to get footage of ourselves all over the Capitol’s news. We’ve thrown the whole city into chaos trying to find us.”

“Trust me, Plutarch’s thrilled,” Cressida adds.

“That’s because Plutarch doesn’t care who dies,” I say. “Not as long as his Games are a success.”

Cressida and Gale go round and round trying to convince me. Pollux nods at their words to back them up. Only Peeta doesn’t offer an opinion.

“What do you think, Peeta?” I finally ask him.

“I think…you still have no idea. The effect you can have.” He slides his cuffs up the support and pushes himself to a sitting position. “None of the people we lost were idiots. They knew what they were doing. They followed you because they believed you really could kill Snow.”

I don’t know why his voice reaches me when no one else’s can. But if he’s right, and I think he is, I owe the others a debt that can only be repaid in one way. I pull my paper map from a pocket in my uniform and spread it out on the floor with new resolve. “Where are we, Cressida?”

Chapter 27

I wake with a start. Pale morning light comes around the edges of the shutters. The scraping of the shovel continues. Still half in the nightmare, I run down the hall, out the front door, and around the side of the house, because now I’m pretty sure I can scream at the dead. When I see him, I pull up short. His face is flushed from digging up the ground under the windows. In a wheelbarrow are five scraggly bushes. “You’re back,” I say. “Dr. Aurelius wouldn’t let me leave the Capitol until yesterday,” Peeta says. “By the way, he said to tell you he can’t keep pretending he’s treating you forever. You have to pick up the phone.” He looks well. Thin and covered with burn scars like me, but his eyes have lost that clouded, tortured look. He’s frowning slightly, though, as he takes me in. I make a halfhearted effort to push my hair out of my eyes and realize it’s matted into clumps. I feel defensive. “What are you doing?” “I went to the woods this morning and dug these up. For her,” he says. “I thought we could plant them along the side of the house.” I look at the bushes, the clods of dirt hanging from their roots, and catch my breath as the wordrose registers. I’m about to yell vicious things at Peeta when the full name comes to me. Not plain rose but evening primrose. The flower my sister was named for. I give Peeta a nod of assent and hurry back into the house, locking the door behind me. But the evil thing is inside, not out. Trembling with weakness and anxiety, I run up the stairs. My foot catches on the last step and I crash onto the floor. I force myself to rise and enter my room. The smell’s very faint but still laces the air. It’s there. The white rose among the dried flowers in the vase. Shriveled and fragile, but holding on to that unnatural perfection cultivated in Snow’s greenhouse. I grab the vase, stumble down to the kitchen, and throw its contents into the embers. As the flowers flare up, a burst of blue flame envelops the rose and devours it. Fire beats roses again. I smash the vase on the floor for good measure.

Slowly, with many lost days, I come back to life. I try to follow Dr. Aurelius’s advice, just going through the motions, amazed when one finally has meaning again. I tell him my idea about the book, and a large box of parchment sheets arrives on the next train from the Capitol. I got the idea from our family’s plant book. The place where we recorded those things you cannot trust to memory. The page begins with the person’s picture. A photo if we can find it. If not, a sketch or painting by Peeta. Then, in my most careful handwriting, come all the details it would be a crime to forget. Lady licking Prim’s cheek. My father’s laugh. Peeta’s father with the cookies. The color of Finnick’s eyes. What Cinna could do with a length of silk. Boggs reprogramming the Holo. Rue poised on her toes, arms slightly extended, like a bird about to take flight. On and on. We seal the pages with salt water and promises to live well to make their deaths count. Haymitch finally joins us, contributing twenty-three years of tributes he was forced to mentor. Additions become smaller. An old memory that surfaces. A late primrose preserved between the pages. Strange bits of happiness, like the photo of Finnick and Annie’s newborn son. We learn to keep busy again. Peeta bakes. I hunt. Haymitch drinks until the liquor runs out, and then raises geese until the next train arrives. Fortunately, the geese can take pretty good care of themselves. We’re not alone. A few hundred others return because, whatever has happened, this is our home. With the mines closed, they plow the ashes into the earth and plant food. Machines from the Capitol break ground for a new factory where we will make medicines. Although no one seeds it, the Meadow turns green again. Peeta and I grow back together. There are still moments when he clutches the back of a chair and hangs on until the flashbacks are over. I wake screaming from nightmares of mutts and lost children. But his arms are there to comfort me. And eventually his lips. On the night I feel that thing again, the hunger that overtook me on the beach, I know this would have happened anyway. That what I need to survive is not Gale’s fire, kindled with rage and hatred. I have plenty of fire myself. What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again. And only Peeta can give me that. So after, when he whispers, “You love me. Real or not real?” I tell him, “Real.”

epilogue

They play in the Meadow. The dancing girl with the dark hair and blue eyes. The boy with blond curls and gray eyes, struggling to keep up with her on his chubby toddler legs. It took five, ten, fifteen years for me to agree. But Peeta wanted them so badly. When I first felt her stirring inside of me, I was consumed with a terror that felt as old as life itself. Only the joy of holding her in my arms could tame it. Carrying him was a little easier, but not much. The questions are just beginning. The arenas have been completely destroyed, the memorials built, there are no more Hunger Games. But they teach about them at school, and the girl knows we played a role in them. The boy will know in a few years. How can I tell them about that world without frightening them to death? My children, who take the words of the song for granted:

Deep in the meadow, under the willow A bed of grass, a soft green pillow Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes And when again they open, the sun will rise. Here it’s safe, here it’s warm

Here the daisies guard you from every harm

Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true

Here is the place where I love you.

My children, who don’t know they play on a graveyard.

Peeta says it will be okay. We have each other. And the book. We can make them understand in a way that will make them braver. But one day I’ll have to explain about my nightmares. Why they came. Why they won’t ever really go away.

I’ll tell them how I survive it. I’ll tell them that on bad mornings, it feels impossible to take pleasure in anything because I’m afraid it could be taken away. That’s when I make a list in my head of every act of goodness I’ve seen someone do. It’s like a game. Repetitive. Even a little tedious after more than twenty years.

But there are much worse games to play.

And Because I am a super Petty Person Gales   Kisses will be added below 

"If only it were that simple." He picks up one of the flowered cookies and examines it. "Lovely. Your mother made these?" "Peeta." And for the first time, I find I can't hold his gaze. I reach for my tea but set it back down when I hear the cup rattling against the saucer. To cover I quickly take a cookie. "Peeta. How is the love of your life?" he asks. "Good," I say. "At what point did he realize the exact degree of your indifference?" he asks, dipping his cookie in his tea. "I'm not indifferent," I say. "But perhaps not as taken with the young man as you would have the country believe," he says. "Who says I'm not?" I say. "I do," says the president. "And I wouldn't be here if I were the only person who had doubts. How's the handsome cousin?" "I don't know ... I don't ..." My revulsion at this conversation, at discussing my feelings for two of the people I care most about with President Snow, chokes me off. "Speak, Miss Everdeen. Him I can easily kill off if we don't come to a happy resolution," he says. "You aren't doing him a favor by disappearing into the woods with him each Sunday." If he knows this, what else does he know? And how does he know it? Many people could tell him that Gale and I spend our Sundays hunting. Don't we show up at the end of each one loaded down with game? Haven't we for years? The real question is what he thinks goes on in the woods beyond District 12. Surely they haven't been tracking us in there. Or have they? Could we have been followed? That seems impossible. At least by a person. Cameras? That never crossed my mind until this moment. The woods have always been our place of safety, our place beyond the reach of the Capitol, where we're free to say what we feel, be who we are. At least before the Games. If we've been watched since, what have they seen? Two people hunting, saying treasonous things against the Capitol, yes. But not two people in love, which seems to be President Snow's implication. We are safe on that charge. Unless ... unless ... It only happened once. It was fast and unexpected, but it did happen. After Peeta and I got home from the Games, it was several weeks before I saw Gale alone. First there were the obligatory celebrations. A banquet for the victors that only the most high-ranking people were invited to. A holiday for the whole district with free food and entertainers brought in from the Capitol. Parcel Day, the first of twelve, in which food packages were delivered to every person in the district. That was my favorite. To see all those hungry kids in the Seam running around, waving cans of applesauce, tins of meat, even candy. Back home, too big to carry, would be bags of grain, cans of oil. To know that once a month for a year they would all receive another parcel. That was one of the few times I actually felt good about winning the Games. So between the ceremonies and events and the reporters documenting my every move as I presided and thanked and kissed Peeta for the audience, I had no privacy at all. After a few weeks, things finally died down. The camera crews and reporters packed up and went home. Peeta and I assumed the cool relationship we've had ever since. My family settled into our house in the Victor's Village. The everyday life of District 12 - workers to the mines, kids to school - resumed its usual pace. I waited until I thought the coast was really clear, and then one Sunday, without telling anyone, I got up hours before dawn and took off for the woods. The weather was still warm enough that I didn't need a jacket. I packed along a bag filled with special foods, cold chicken and cheese and bakery bread and oranges. Down at my old house, I put on my hunting boots. As usual, the fence was not charged and it was simple to slip into the woods and retrieve my bow and arrows. I went to our place, Gale's and mine, where we had shared breakfast the morning of the reaping that sent me into the Games. I waited at least two hours. I'd begun to think that he'd given up on me in the weeks that had passed. Or that he no longer cared about me. Hated me even. And the idea of losing him forever, my best friend, the only person I'd ever trusted with my secrets, was so painful I couldn't stand it. Not on top of everything else that had happened. I could feel my eyes tearing up and my throat starting to close the way it does when I get upset. Then I looked up and there he was, ten feet away, just watching me. Without even thinking, I jumped up and threw my arms around him, making some weird sound that combined laughing, choking, and crying. He was holding me so tightly that I couldn't see his face, but it was a really long time before he let me go and then he didn't have much choice, because I'd gotten this unbelievably loud case of the hiccups and had to get a drink. We did what we always did that day. Ate breakfast. Hunted and fished and gathered. Talked about people in town. But not about us, his new life in the mines, my time in the arena. Just about other things. By the time we were at the hole in the fence that's nearest the Hob, I think I really believed that things could be the same. That we could go on as we always had. I'd given all the game to Gale to trade since we had so much food now. I told him I'd skip the Hob, even though I was looking forward to going there, because my mother and sister didn't even know I'd gone hunting and they'd be wondering where I was. Then suddenly, as I was suggesting I take over the daily snare run, he took my face in his hands and kissed me. I was completely unprepared. You would think that after all the hours I'd spent with Gale - watching him talk and laugh and frown - that I would know all there was to know about his lips. But I hadn't imagined how warm they would feel pressed against my own. Or how those hands, which could set the most intricate of snares, could as easily entrap me. I think I made some sort of noise in the back of my throat, and I vaguely remember my fingers, curled tightly closed, resting on his chest. Then he let go and said, "I had to do that. At least once." And he was gone. Despite the fact that the sun was setting and my family would be worried, I sat by a tree next to the fence. I tried to decide how I felt about the kiss, if I had liked it or resented it, but all I really remembered was the pressure of Gale's lips and the scent of the oranges that still lingered on his skin. It was pointless comparing it with the many kisses I'd exchanged with Peeta. I still hadn't figured out if any of those counted. Finally I went home. That week I managed the snares and dropped off the meat with Hazelle. But I didn't see Gale until Sunday. I had this whole speech worked out, about how I didn't want a boyfriend and never planned on marrying, but I didn't end up using it. Gale acted as if the kiss had never happened. Maybe he was waiting for me to say something. Or kiss him back. Instead I just pretended it had never happened, either. But it had. Gale had shattered some invisible barrier between us and, with it, any hope I had of resuming our old, uncomplicated friendship. Whatever I pretended, I could never look at his lips in quite the same way. This all flashes through my head in an instant as President Snow's eyes bore into me on the heels of his threat to kill Gale. How stupid I've been to think the Capitol would just ignore me once I'd returned home! Maybe I didn't know about the potential uprisings. But I knew they were angry with me. Instead of acting with the extreme caution the situation called for, what have I done? From the president's point of view, I've ignored Peeta and flaunted my preference for Gale's company before the whole district. And by doing so made it clear I was, in fact, mocking the Capitol. Now I've endangered Gale and his family and my family and Peeta, too, by my carelessness. "Please don't hurt Gale," I whisper. "He's just my friend. He's been my friend for years. That's all that's between us. Besides, everyone thinks we're cousins now." "I'm only interested in how it affects your dynamic with Peeta, thereby affecting the mood in the districts," he says. "It will be the same on the tour. I'll be in love with him just as I was," I say. "Just as you are," corrects President Snow. "Just as I am," I confirm.

For the first time, I reverse our positions in my head. I imagine watching Gale volunteering to save Rory in the reaping, having him torn from my life, becoming some strange girl's lover to stay alive, and then coming home with her. Living next to her. Promising to marry her. The hatred I feel for him, for the phantom girl, for everything, is so real and immediate that it chokes me. Gale is mine. I am his. Anything else is unthinkable. Why did it take him being whipped within an inch of his life to see it? Because I'm selfish. I'm a coward. I'm the kind of girl who, when she might actually be of use, would run to stay alive and leave those who couldn't follow to suffer and die. This is the girl Gale met in the woods today. No wonder I won the Games. No decent person ever does. You saved Peeta, I think weakly. But now I question even that. I knew good and well that my life back in District 12 would be unlivable if I let that boy die. I rest my head forward on the edge of the table, overcome with loathing for myself. Wishing I had died in the arena. Wishing Seneca Crane had blown me to bits the way President Snow said he should have when I held out the berries. The berries. I realize the answer to who I am lies in that handful of poisonous fruit. If I held them out to save Peeta because I knew I would be shunned if I came back without him, then I am despicable. If I held them out because I loved him, I am still self-centered, although forgivable. But if I held them out to defy the Capitol, I am someone of worth. The trouble is, I don't know exactly what was going on inside me at that moment. Could it be the people in the districts are right? That it was an act of rebellion, even if it was an unconscious one? Because, deep down, I must know it isn't enough to keep myself, or my family, or my friends alive by running away. Even if I could. It wouldn't fix anything. It wouldn't stop people from being hurt the way Gale was today. Life in District 12 isn't really so different from life in the arena. At some point, you have to stop running and turn around and face whoever wants you dead. The hard thing is finding the courage to do it. Well, it's not hard for Gale. He was born a rebel. I'm the one making an escape plan. "I'm so sorry," I whisper. I lean forward and kiss him. His eyelashes flutter and he looks at me through a haze of opiates. "Hey, Catnip." "Hey, Gale," I say. "Thought you'd be gone by now," he says. My choices are simple. I can die like quarry in the woods or I can die here beside Gale. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to stay right here and cause all kinds of trouble." "Me, too," Gale says. He just manages a smile before the drugs pull him back under.

By the time we reach the town square, afternoon's sinking into evening. I take Cressida to the rubble of the bakery and ask her to film something. The only emotion I can muster is exhaustion. "Peeta, this is your home. None of your family has been heard of since the bombing. Twelve is gone. And you're calling for a cease-fire?" I look across the emptiness. "There's no one left to hear you." As we stand before the lump of metal that was the gallows, Cressida asks if either of us has ever been tortured. In answer, Gale pulls off his shirt and turns his back to the camera. I stare at the lash marks, and again hear the whistling of the whip, see his bloody figure hanging unconscious by his wrists. "I'm done," I announce. "I'll meet you at the Victor's Village. Something for...my mother." I guess I walked here, but the next thing I'm conscious of is sitting on the floor in front of the kitchen cabinets of our house in the Victor's Village. Meticulously lining ceramic jars and glass bottles into a box. Placing clean cotton bandages between them to prevent breaking. Wrapping bunches of dried flowers. Suddenly, I remember the rose on my dresser. Was it real? If so, is it still up there? I have to resist the temptation to check. If it's there, it will only frighten me all over again. I hurry with my packing. When the cabinets are empty, I rise to find that Gale has materialized in my kitchen. It's disturbing how soundlessly he can appear. He's leaning on the table, his fingers spread wide against the wood grain. I set the box between us. "Remember?" he asks. "This is where you kissed me." So the heavy dose of morphling administered after the whipping wasn't enough to erase that from his consciousness. "I didn't think you'd remember that," I say. "Have to be dead to forget. Maybe even not then," he tells me. "Maybe I'll be like that man in 'The Hanging Tree.' Still waiting for an answer." Gale, who I have never seen cry, has tears in his eyes. To keep them from spilling over, I reach forward and press my lips against his. We taste of heat, ashes, and misery. It's a surprising flavor for such a gentle kiss. He pulls away first and gives me a wry smile. "I knew you'd kiss me." "How?" I say. Because I didn't know myself. "Because I'm in pain," he says. "That's the only way I get your attention." He picks up the box. "Don't worry, Katniss. It'll pass." He leaves before I can answer. I'm too weary to work through his latest charge. I spend the short ride back to 13 curled up in a seat, trying to ignore Plutarch going on about one of his favorite subjects - weapons mankind no longer has at its disposal. High-flying planes, military satellites, cell disintegrators, drones, biological weapons with expiration dates. Brought down by the destruction of the atmosphere or lack of resources or moral squeamishness. You can hear the regret of a Head Gamemaker who can only dream of such toys, who must make do with hovercraft and land-to-land missiles and plain old guns.

Gale finds me when they arrive late one afternoon. I'm sitting on a log at the edge of my current village, plucking a goose. A dozen or so of the birds are piled at my feet. Great flocks of them have been migrating through here since I've arrived, and the pickings are easy. Without a word, Gale settles beside me and begins to relieve a bird of its feathers. We're through about half when he says, "Any chance we'll get to eat these?" "Yeah. Most go to the camp kitchen, but they expect me to give a couple to whoever I'm staying with tonight," I say. "For keeping me." "Isn't the honor of the thing enough?" he says. "You'd think," I reply. "But word's gotten out that mockingjays are hazardous to your health." We pluck in silence for a while longer. Then he says, "I saw Peeta yesterday. Through the glass." "What'd you think?" I ask. "Something selfish," says Gale. "That you don't have to be jealous of him anymore?" My fingers give a yank, and a cloud of feathers floats down around us. "No. Just the opposite." Gale pulls a feather out of my hair. "I thought...I'll never compete with that. No matter how much pain I'm in." He spins the feather between his thumb and forefinger. "I don't stand a chance if he doesn't get better. You'll never be able to let him go. You'll always feel wrong about being with me." "The way I always felt wrong kissing him because of you," I say. Gale holds my gaze. "If I thought that was true, I could almost live with the rest of it." "It is true," I admit. "But so is what you said about Peeta."

Gale makes a sound of exasperation. Nonetheless, after we've dropped off the birds and volunteered to go back to the woods to gather kindling for the evening fire, I find myself wrapped in his arms. His lips brushing the faded bruises on my neck, working their way to my mouth. Despite what I feel for Peeta, this is when I accept deep down that he'll never come back to me. Or I'll never go back to him. I'll stay in 2 until it falls, go to the Capitol and kill Snow, and then die for my trouble. And he'll die insane and hating me. So in the fading light I shut my eyes and kiss Gale to make up for all the kisses I've withheld, and because it doesn't matter anymore, and because I'm so desperately lonely I can't stand it. Gale's touch and taste and heat remind me that at least my body's still alive, and for the moment it's a welcome feeling. I empty my mind and let the sensations run through my flesh, happy to lose myself. When Gale pulls away slightly, I move forward to close the gap, but I feel his hand under my chin. "Katniss," he says. The instant I open my eyes, the world seems disjointed. This is not our woods or our mountains or our way. My hand automatically goes to the scar on my left temple, which I associate with confusion. "Now kiss me." Bewildered, unblinking, I stand there while he leans in and presses his lips to mine briefly. He examines my face closely. "What's going on in your head?"

"I don't know," I whisper back.

"Then it's like kissing someone who's drunk. It doesn't count," he says with a weak attempt at a laugh. He scoops up a pile of kindling and drops it in my empty arms, returning me to myself.

"How do you know?" I say, mostly to cover my embarrassment. "Have you kissed someone who's drunk?" I guess Gale could've been kissing girls right and left back in 12. He certainly had enough takers. I never thought about it much before.

He just shakes his head. "No. But it's not hard to imagine."

"So, you never kissed any other girls?" I ask.

"I didn't say that. You know, you were only twelve when we met. And a real pain besides. I did have a life outside of hunting with you," he says, loading up with firewood.

Suddenly, I'm genuinely curious. "Who did you kiss? And where?"

"Too many to remember. Behind the school, on the slag heap, you name it," he says.

I roll my eyes. "So when did I become so special? When they carted me off to the Capitol?"

"No. About six months before that. Right after New Year's. We were in the Hob, eating some slop of Greasy Sae's. And Darius was teasing you about trading a rabbit for one of his kisses. And I realized...I minded," he tells me.

I remember that day. Bitter cold and dark by four in the afternoon. We'd been hunting, but a heavy snow had driven us back into town. The Hob was crowded with people looking for refuge from the weather. Greasy Sae's soup, made with stock from the bones of a wild dog we'd shot a week earlier, was below her usual standards. Still, it was hot, and I was starving as I scooped it up, sitting cross-legged on her counter. Darius was leaning on the post of the stall, tickling my cheek with the end of my braid, while I smacked his hand away. He was explaining why one of his kisses merited a rabbit, or possibly two, since everyone knows redheaded men are the most virile. And Greasy Sae and I were laughing because he was so ridiculous and persistent and kept pointing out women around the Hob who he said had paid far more than a rabbit to enjoy his lips. "See? The one in the green muffler? Go ahead and ask her.If you need a reference."

A million miles from here, a billion days ago, this happened. "Darius was just joking around," I say.

"Probably. Although you'd be the last to figure out if he wasn't," Gale tells me. "Take Peeta. Take me. Or even Finnick. I was starting to worry he had his eye on you, but he seems back on track now."

"You don't know Finnick if you think he'd love me," I say.

Gale shrugs. "I know he was desperate. That makes people do all kinds of crazy things."

I can't help thinking that's directed at me.

Gale catches my arm before I can disappear. "So that's what you're thinking now?" I shrug. "Katniss, as your oldest friend, believe me when I say he's not seeing you as you really are." He kisses my cheek and goes.

#THG #HUNGER GAMES #The Hunger Games #catching fire #CatchingFire #MOCKINGJAY #mockingjay part 1 #mockingjay part 2 #kisses #katniss everdeen #katniss and peeta #Katniss #Peeta Mellark #Peeta #gale #gale hawthorne #cf #beach scene #cave scene #everlark #everlark moments

[jlalafics]

Modern Au dabble where Everlark connect on the roof of one of their houses and then cute kiss leading into ya know? Thanks! You and your books are amazing! -Zeffie ♥️♥️

Hey love! Thanks for this amazing prompt. I hope you wanted this ficlet with a good amount of spice...

Enjoy @hungergamesfangirl02 (Zeffie)!

_____

The moment she steps onto the roof, Peeta spots her.

She is circling the space with her roommates; the sharp-tongued woman with blunt bangs and crimson lowlights and the blue-eyed blonde wearing a crown of flowers. His roommate, Gale, had a one-night thing with the blonde. Peeta can still remember the muttered moaning of her name through the thin walls of their apartment: Madge…Madge…Madge…

Peeta drinks from his red cup, trying to quietly observe the girl in the middle. She’s wearing a cropped jean jacket and a shift burgundy dress with embroidered straps. The ankle boots lengthen her rich-colored legs and he wonders, albeit briefly, what he would see if a sudden gust of wind were to sweep through.

However, it’s summer in the city.

Balmy and warm, the sun just going down and it’s practically another day.

“Peeta!” He turns, spotting Finnick, his other roommate, and Annie, Finnick’s girlfriend. It’s his friend’s birthday and a possible engagement party. Annie doesn’t know, but Peeta and Finnick just picked up the ring from the jeweler this afternoon. “Why are you hiding in the corner?”

“You know that I’m not the party type,” he tells them with a smile. Peeta eyes his friend. “So…anything interesting going on?”

“Not quite,” Finnick responds, throwing an arm around Annie’s shoulders. “Maybe a little later.”

Peeta nods, trying to suppress his smile. It’s not often that his friend is uncertain; he’s known Finnick since they were in diapers and his bronze-haired friend has always moved forward, unafraid of what was ahead of him.

However, when it comes to Annie, the man is total mush.

“You need to circulate,” Annie tells him, her green eyes full of kind concern. “It’s been a year since Delly.”

“Who’s Delly?” comes a brash voice.

They all turn to find the woman with red hair standing before them.

And, right next to her is—

“Katniss!” Annie is rushing towards the pretty girl to give her a hug. Then she goes to Miss Blunt Bangs, embracing her as well. “Johanna!”

They all pull apart and Annie introduces them to Finnick and Peeta.

“I’ve seen you before on campus,” Finnick says to Katniss—Peeta is already in love just hearing her name. “You’re a voice major, right?”

Katniss nods. “Yup, but more song writing and composition than singing.”

“Well, you should talk to Peeta here.” Finnick waves at hand at him, clover eyes sparkling. He knows Peeta well enough to identify when he’s interested in something…or someone. “He’s exceptionally talented when it comes to playing. I don’t think there’s an instrument that he hasn’t experimented with.”

Katniss turns, grey almond-eyes on him. “I’ve seen you around before.”

“I don’t go to Juilliard,” Peeta stammers out.

“No!” She grins and he finds himself smiling back at the way her face completely blooms with loveliness. “I’ve seen you sitting on this roof. You play out here sometimes.”

“Yeah, Katniss has been mini-spying on you,” Johanna informs him.

“Really?” He eyes her and Katniss’ cheeks color—geez, now she’s even more gorgeous. “I’m flattered.”

“I actually live over there—” Katniss points to the adjacent building. It’s at few floors higher, but just enough for someone to look over and see clearly onto their roof. “—sometimes I go up to write or to look at the stars.”

“Don’t lie to the man,” her friend retorts, earning a glare. “At least tell him that you’re a little hot for him holding a guitar.”

“Johanna—” Annie thankfully interrupts. “Thresh has been looking for you.”

“I gave him a blowjob last month and he’s been hitting me up ever since,” she replies. Looking over at Katniss, Johanna winks. “Have fun with your mystery man.”

The two girls walk off, leaving Finnick, Peeta, and Katniss standing together.

“Oh!” Finnick looks around. “I think I better make sure that we still have enough ice and prepare for my birthday speech.” He pats Peeta on the back. “Have fun.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen a more obvious setup,” Katniss tells him when they’re finally alone.

“They mean well,” Peeta replies. “At least, Annie and Finnick do. Johanna is a bit of a mystery.” He looks over to the bar. “Did you want a drink?”

“Sure.” They head to the bar; Peeta tries to keep cool as Katniss joins his side. Their hands are a muscle movement away from touching and he stiffens his hand. “I’d love a Corona and lime.”

“Very summer of you,” he replies before requesting it from the bartender. “How do you know Annie?”

The bartender places the tall neck bottle, placing the lime wedge at the opening, before handing it to Katniss.

They find their way to a spot at the far corner of the party and settle down together on a lone bench. Finnick is talking to the DJ and he sees Annie talking to Madge, whose arm is around Gale’s waist. Johanna has found Thresh and they are dancing, both decently tearing up the floor.

It’s the perfect summer night.

“She works with Johanna,” Katniss explains. “I think they’re EAs for the two CEOs, so they’re always working together. I’ve known Johanna my whole life. When I found out I got into Juilliard, I didn’t hesitate to ask her to come with me. She didn’t hesitate to say yes. Her home life was less than ideal.”

“That sucks.” Real smooth, idiot. His tongue is so tied around her, but Peeta takes a breath and searches for another topic. “How about you? What’s your family life like?”

“I have one sister. Sweetest girl you’ll ever know.” Her smile goes soft and sad, lost in thought. “My Dad passed away when I was five.”

“I’m sorry.”

His hand goes unconsciously to hers resting between them. Peeta motions to pull away, but her fingers entwine with his.

Their eyes meet, silently agreeing that it feels right.

“It’s fine. He was sick for a long time,” Katniss explains. “When I was 12, my mom met Haymitch and we all kind of loved him from the start. They got married when I was 13 and have been thoroughly happy ever since.” She moves closer. “And you? Tell me about your family.”

“My Dad’s a businessman,” he starts. “Have you heard of Mellark Bakery?”

“Yeah, they have that huge factory across the bridge,” Katniss replies. “Your Dad work there?”

Peeta holds out his free hand, wondering if he should have open this can of worms. However, if this is going anywhere (is it too early to propose?), he should probably tell her about his family.

“Nice to meet you. Peeta Mellark.”

Katniss let out a laugh, putting down her Corona to shake his hand.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was meeting with a son of industry!”

“My Dad is actually pretty cool,” he tells her. “He’s always been very encouraging and supportive of me and my older brothers, Emmett and Noel. Emmett is an artist and Noel is a chef.”

“And your mother?”

“Pretty opposite.” Katniss squeezes his hand, listening intently. “She’s a society woman. Very beautiful, but very cold.”

“Oh, she is going to hate me,” Katniss replies.

Peeta grins at her words. “Already planning to meet the parents?”

“Of course. We’ve connected, you know?” she proclaims. “Now that I’ve seen you up close, there’s no going back.”

“And your family?” he counters. “Would they like me?”

“They’re going to love you,” she says, her grey eyes on him. “You seem so easy to care for.”

Peeta looks at his feet, overcome by her words. “How do you know?”

“Last month, I was coming home from school and you were walking out of your building. There was a little old woman coming out of her taxi and she seemed to be struggling to even open the door. So, you opened the door for her, and you helped her set up her walker on the sidewalk. Then, you paid for her cab and helped her inside your building. Nobody does shit like that anymore. Everyone always seems to be looking out for themselves, nowadays.”

“Mags has lived here the longest, so she’s kind of building royalty,” Peeta explains. “Also, her husband died a while back and she has no kids. The people in this building are her family and we take care of one another.”

“I like that,” Katniss tells him.

“I like you,” he blurts out. “I mean, if it hasn’t been obvious enough.”

Katniss doesn’t respond, but she shifts a little bit closer to him as she stares into his eyes.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

Peeta is intrigued by her abruptness. “What did you have in mind?”

She pulls him by his hand to stand up. He rises and their chests brush against one another. It is brief, but it is enough to light a fire in his belly at the feel of peaked nipples against his thin flannel button-down.

“We’re going stargazing.”

++++++

“For some reason, Johanna has a deal with the maintenance crew in the building,” Katniss recounts as they step onto the roof of her apartment complex. “No one else but myself, Johanna, and Madge are allowed up here.” She leads him over to a set of lounge chairs. “I don’t really know what kind of deal she cut, and I’ve never bothered to ask.”

“That’s probably for the best,” he tells her. “Are you allowed to bring people up here?”

“I’m pretty sure that Johanna and Madge have brought guys up here before.” Katniss turns to him, her eyes glowing under the light of the moon. “You are the only person that I’ve ever brought here…the only person I want to bring here.”

Peeta isn’t sure if it is the moon…or the Corona…or the heat of the night…but something dances inside his chest, telling him to go to her. Her eyes are on him, hunger so intense in them that there is nothing he could do but go to her. Katniss follows suit, marching towards him with determination.

A groan escapes her lips at the feel of him hard against her pelvis. “Peeta, please…”

They meet in the middle of the roof, breaths heavy and Katniss reaches to cup his cheek. His arm rounds her slender waist, pulling her close to let her feel what she does to him.

“What would you like?” he asks, voice roughened with need. His free hand moves along the lines of her body and she whines, pressing closer to him. “Tell me what you want, Katniss.”

“I want you to kiss me.” Katniss’ mouth grazes against him and he nearly crumbles at the feel of heat between her legs. “Then, I want you to fuck me until we both see stars.”

His mouth is on hers, slotting them together. He sucks harshly at her upper lip as her hands reach for him, holding his face in place as she bites at his lower lip. They both moan into one another, tasting lime and alcohol and the fire between them.

Katniss moves them towards one of the chairs, her hands traveling down and reaching to the buttons of his shirt as her tongue sweeps into his mouth. His own hands move to yank at her jean jacket until she shrugs it off.

“Touch me, Peeta,” she says into his mouth. His shirt has been tossed to the ground and her hands roam unabashedly against his heated skin.

Peeta reaches for the hem of her dress and Katniss complies, lifting her arms up so he could pull the dress over her head. Once it is off, he steps back and looks at the beautiful woman under the summer moon.

Every inch of her skin is caramel and Peeta licks his lips ravenously as his eyes rove over lush breasts with rosy nipples…the graceful dip of her waist…full hips…and nude mesh panties that cover a thatch of dark hair.

“You are beautiful,” he rasps.

Katniss slowly sits down on the lounger, resting back. Her chest heaves, nipples pointed in the warm air, as she waits expectantly for him.

Peeta kneels before her. Carefully, he takes her boots and places them next to the lounger. Then, he is at her center, mouthing her through the mesh and sampling the honey pleasure of her core. Her hands go to his hair, fingers running through his hair and nails scratching at his scalp as he sucks and tongues her through the scrap of nothing.

“Fuck! Peeta!” Her wails are like gold and he moans, vibrating against her cunt. “More, please!” He moves the scrap of cloth away from her quim and plunges his tongue inside her. “Oh my God!”

Part of him is thankful for the party next door, the vibration of music sheathing her cries in the air. Peeta loves the sound of her, unabashed in showing him how good she feels. Katniss pushes herself against his tongue, legs wrapping around his head as she humps his face.

He is drenched in her; his new favorite drink for a summer’s night.

Peeta’s hands move to his jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them quickly.

Pulling away, Katniss whines at the motion until she sees his pants undone. Her eyes, already smoky, have gone obsidian at the sight and he pushes his briefs down, his erection jutting out.

She sits up, one hand pressed to the seat as the other reaches to his length, wrapping her fingers around him. Her thumb moves to the mushroomed head, spreading the precum and he almost seizes at the sensation.

“You’ve given me what I want,” she tells him, her hand stroking him slowly. “What do you want?”

“I want to show you the stars,” Peeta replies, his hand reaching to her panties and she lifts her hips, letting him slide them off until it joins their pile of discarded clothing. He stands before her, reaching for the waist of his jeans and boxers before pulling them off in one motion. His shoes and socks followed, joining her boots.

He stands before her, naked and obviously wanting.

Katniss lays back, pushing herself up onto her elbows, admiring the sight before her.

“I did watch you from here,” she says, her voice strained. “You’d fiddle with your guitar and I’d fiddle myself.”

The image of Katniss, hands on herself…fingers dipping into that dripping cunt is just too much.

Peeta falls to his knees, yanking her down until ass is at the edge of the chair, the backs of her legs pressing along his front.

Then, in one motion, he thrusts roughly into her sodden quim.

The moment Peeta slides into her, her whole body growls.

He can feel her contracting around him and he begins to move, savoring the feeling of being surrounded by her slick. Peeta leans down and their lips meet, her body practically folding in half so he can taste her.

Katniss moans into their kiss, tasting her essence against his tongue as they move against one another. The chair creaks under the pressure of their fucking and he can’t imagine that it feels very comfortable.

He attempts to lift her in-between thrusts, but Katniss frantically shakes her head.

“No, just like this,” she gasps into his sweaty skin. Her legs spread away to wrap around his waist. “Won’t be long now…”

She feels too good, silk and sopping around his cock. Her grip on him is the perfect pressure and as he thrusts, Katniss arches up, bottoming out.

“Holy fuck, you’re amazing,” he groans. “There is no way in hell that I’m letting you go now.”

Hell, Peeta is already convinced that this woman with the dark waves and smoky eyes is the woman that he’s going to marry. In his mind’s eye, he already imagines her in a white dress…carrying her over the threshold of her dream home…of fucking her against every wall of the house…of filling her to the brim until she’s swollen with his child.

“Don’t let me go,” Katniss cries out, her insides beginning to flutter around him, and he juts his cock shallowly knowing that he’s going to spill inside her at any moment. “I wanted you since the moment I saw you…fuck….oh…” Her muscles pulsate around him and her pelvis rises to meet his thrusts.

Her cries are swallowed into the starry sky above them and Peeta watches her in the beauty of her climax. Her hair flows behind her, her skin glistening, and she’s smiles up, her eyes full of love.

She’s watching him, jaw clenched, as the sky above is suddenly illuminated by fireworks, creating a halo around him.

Peeta comes undone, filling her, his pelvis pressing to hers until he is spent.

After, he lays, pillowed against her chest, her hand smoothing down his mussed hair.

“I see stars…” she whispers against him.

“Annie must have said yes,” he explains. “I picked up the ring with Finnick today.”

Katniss snorts. “When Finnick does something, he goes hard.”

“So do I,” he tells her.

She kisses the top of his head. “What do you mean by that?”

“You’ll see.”

They are married three months later.

 FIN.

#Everlark #Everlark Fanfiction #Everlark Ficlet #Rated M #Modern AU #summerinthecity!Everlark

[archersandsunsets]

also I would take a MJ reunion in the hospital scene fix it (bonus points if it’s from someone else’s POV: Finnick, Gale, even Annie, Haymitch)

“Finnick!” Something between a shriek and a cry of joy. A lovely if somewhat bedraggled young woman—dark tangled hair, sea green eyes—runs toward them in nothing but a sheet. “Finnick!” And suddenly, it’s as if there’s no one in the world but the two of them, crashing through space to reach each other. They collide, enfold, lose their balance, and slam against a wall, where they stay. Clinging into one being. Indivisible.

A pang of jealousy hits Katniss. Not for either Finnick or Annie but for their certainty. No one seeing them could doubt their love.

Boggs, looking a little worse for wear but uninjured, finds Haymitch and her. “We got them all out. Except Enobaria. But since she’s from Two, we doubt she’s being held anyway. Peeta’s at the end of the hall. The effects of the gas are just wearing off. You should be there when he wakes.”

Peeta, Katniss thinks.

Alive and well—maybe not well but alive and here. Away from Snow. Safe. Here. With her. In a minute she can touch him. See his smile. Hear his laugh.

Haymitch’s grinning at her. “Come on, then,” he says.

She’s light-headed with giddiness. What will she say? Oh, who cares what she says? Peeta will be ecstatic no matter what she does. He’ll probably be kissing her, anyway. She wonders if it will feel like those last kisses on the beach in the arena, the ones she hadn’t dared let herself consider until this moment.

Peeta is awake already, sitting on the side of the bed, looking bewildered as a trio of doctors reassure him, flash lights in his eyes, check his pulse. Katniss is slightly disappointed that hers was not the first face he saw when he woke, but he sees it now.

………

The haze and energy of their reunion still buzzes within Finnick, even as the doctors pry them apart, saying they have to run tests on Annie. Her tears of happiness quickly morph into fear as she clings to Finnick’s hand once they’ve coaxed her back onto a gurney.

“I’ll be right here when you get back,” he tells her, kissing her knuckles.

“Right here,” she mumbles in response amid a whimper, but her grip only tightens.

The doctors allow Finnick to walk with her down the hall, but they don’t let him into the examination room. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t argue, knowing the amount of trouble this has caused; he only asks that they find him in the Med Bay when she is done with her tests, before they put her in a room. He isn’t sure any of them is listening until a kindly nurse puts her hand on his shoulder as they wheel Annie away. Finnick makes eye contact with her, registers the knowing look in her eyes.

She’ll find him, he decides. Then he turns back toward the Med Bay. It’s all he can do not to let the anxiety of separation tear him apart, even as he reminds himself it’s temporary, so he wanders back, fishing his rope out of the pocket of his jumpsuit.

He doesn’t tie a knot. That will come later, when he and Annie are together again. Allowed to heal, allowed to live, allowed to love. Finally.

The chaos of the Med Bay surges around him, a blur of frenzied activity. Finnick lost track of the gurney where Johanna had laid the moment he spotted Annie, and he wouldn’t know who to ask now. Maybe it’s best he wait, anyway. Everything is so crazy right now, no one would know what to tell him.

It’s too much. Finnick makes his way down a hallway, and he stops at the sight he finds at the end of it.

The door to the room is closed, but he can see through the window inside.

It’s the same kind of embrace Finnick remembers from the arena, when Peeta’s heart stopped and he nearly died, and then… Well, then he saved the kid’s life, and Katniss nearly shot him for it before she understood. And Katniss, so scared and crying, clung to Peeta when he woke up as though he would slip right through her fingers if she let go.

They cling to each other that way now. The way Finnick assumes he and Annie looked, but there is something different here. Something softer, more tender. Like the waves lapping against the sand, instead of the violent crash against rocks.

Peeta comforts her the same way now, stroking her hair and whispering, but he’s crying, too. And when they pull away, Katniss’s hand reaches for his face. For the purple bruise that Finnick can make out without being in the room. She probes it gently, barely touching the skin. Then she leans in and kisses the spot.

She says something then, but Finnick can’t hear it. He doesn’t have to.

Peeta’s expression says it all.

#answered #rosegardeninwinter #everlark fanfiction #drabbles #my writing

[ilguna]

Meliorism Talks

EUNOIA

the title is interesting

METANOIA

the dawn of time

metanoia is a boost for self esteem

slowburn teaser

when did they find out they were soulmates?

gale + rosecelli, friends?

how i came up with the last name

tanith is gone

rip tanith

their soulmate words

is rosecelli a dom or sub?

songs that give me vibes

who would finnick choose, gallows or rosecelli?

inspiration for prevaricate

one bed au

finding out the definition of prevaricate

liking how it’s going so far

reaction to the minefield

reaction to chapter 17 of metanoia

after i murdered hydri

relieved at prevaricate ending

loving the ending!

cute as HECK

happy with the metanoia ending

excited when i posted the moodboard

identifying with personality/moodboard

what would rosecelli study in college?

is rosecelli and gallows the game storyline?

canon name reveal

personality vs looks

what happened to rosecelli, happened to annie

how to pronounce rosecelli

aftermath

why did finnick get mad at rosecelli and not johanna?

i suggest an angsty AU

please don’t kill him

anon loves the idea

i am unrelenting

no, i will never let them be happy

cry my children

bargaining for a short story

photo album short story?

roscelli’s to-be axe

the axe fits rosecelli’s aesthetic

rosecelli would go feral

rosecelli is That Bitch

living through rosecelli

i suggest a metanoia prequel

rosecelli is AMAZING

metanoia prequel

rosecelli’s fancy weapons

random convo

pet names (or lack thereof)

rosecelli showers finnick in gifts

trident is iconic

a gift idea that rosecelli bought finnick

finnick talking to annie about living situations

finnick and rosecelli moving in together

annie staring at rosecelli in chapter eighteen

chaotic power couple

finnick leaving annie

rosecelli warned finnick

finnick breaking the news to annie

who’s annie’s soulmate?

might be true

poor annie

beginning of the hate fuck convo

spicy couple

would rosecelli shower finnick in sugar cubes?

what if finnick/rosecelli had fucked in district 13?

finnick would’ve been smug after the hate fuck

annie watched finnick flirt in the arena

flirting wasn’t obvious

what’s up with tigris?

what happened after rosecelli killed the peacekeeper?

what if finnick left like rosecelli wanted? - AU

would annie leave finnick for her soulmate? - AU

what would’ve happened in chapter fourteen

would finnick still get married in that case?

would rosecelli and gallows get along?

would finnick regret marrying annie anyway? - AU

who would win in a fight? rosecelli or annie?

finnick’s girl can whoop some ass

did finnick and rosecelli get along during rosecelli’s victory stop?

rosecelli’s favorite ice cream flavor?

zavian would get frozen yogurt

and peanut toppings

tanith and zavian being soulmates

and the immediate regret after

smh anon has grown attached

same anon

who would win in a fight? gallows or rosecelli?

content anon think she’s trying her best

didn’t rosecelli have male cousins? (fight idea cont.)

disappointing that everyone calls rosecelli a bitch

she’s not always like that

rosecelli would have to eat all the sugar cubes to piss finnick off

them fighting? i think u mean making out

fighting is their foreplay lmao

finnick would stick around even after death

the encounter in 13 is canon? no but i can make it be

only play fighting tho

nasty spat to make out session in front of panem

canon would be nice but annie...

breaks up w annie for that good puss puss

everyone watching back home like....

gallows/rosecelli crossover - AU

what about the other way around?

how rosecelli would react

gallows would pull a knife on rosecelli

what would she smell like?

definition of metanoia

who would they be?

something rosecelli would say

idea where rosecelli killed peeta and johanna - AU

liking that idea

rosecelli was unfazed

the worst time to find your soulmate ever

poly of rosecelli/gallows/finnick?

feminist icon!!

what if rosecelli and finnick had a baby?

reminds her of a brooklyn99 quote

roscelli not letting finnick help

them being parents!!!

beetee as godparent???

im loved <3

comprimising in choosing katniss?

rosecelli being poc friendly

FASHION SENSE

a sad ass idea

her star signs!!

explanation 1/3

explanation 2/3

explanation 3/3

her EXACT birthday

i am rosecelli

new au incoming

here it is - AU

more to it

even more to it

it sounds cool though

rosecelli slander

rosecelli keep 6ft away challenge

planet anon and i are rosecelli

his speech to her was cute af

he was dropped as a baby

krampus before santa

as she should

the motherly voice...

malefic - AU SHORT STORY

i expanded on it some ^

and a little more

its not her fault!!

they scared the shit outta each other

new idea for rewrite

rosecelli = new toy lmfao

baby talk is back, bless up

finnick’s self care trips 

omg the mfing godparents

what if rosecelli/gallows were tributes in the same games?

her internal diaogue lmao

AKRASIA

i suggest the idea

more off the idea

excitement about the title

short story idea - AU

another short story idea - AU

annie finds her soulmate post-metanoia

what if annie found her soulmate after metanoia? 

running into finnick/rosecelli 

don’t have to compete for annie 

ROM-COM 

finnick is the face of the rebellion 

i write out a blurb if rosecelli/finnick died together

plutarch getting them both out?

rosecelli is a handful but she’d be helpful

rosecelli begrudgingly accepting the fact she’s “mockingjay”

rosecelli would have to be shitfaced to do anything

finnick as the face also makes sense

trying to find a name for rosecelli’s rebellion title

how it would change rosecelli/finnicks relationship

more to the pretend relationship

re: pretend relationship and kissing

gale being nosy

the rebellion name?

annie having to watch her ex fuel the rebellion

what if rosecelli is tasked with protecting finnick? - AU AU

further explanation of above

a scenario in which rosecelli protects finnick

another funny one

rosecelli kills katniss/peeta to protect finnick (bodyguard)

reaction to that

rosecelli comforts finnick after mags

the thought of that is feel worthy

even more feels

song suggestion for rosecelli

rosecelli just wants to be loved

finnick is a literal puppy

finnick is the only annoying puppy she wants

them kissing the arena and then remembering the cameras

draco/roscelli and harry/finnick parallel

pyrrhic

only she is allowed to kill finnick

AU for Roscelli/Johanna being lovers

enemies to lovers with johanna? - AU

omg if they were soulmates - AU

sexual tension <3

finnick/rosecelli are otp BUT johanna and rosecelli--

the hate sex????

imagine johanna’s face when they speak to each other

#ilguna #meliorism talks #metanoia

[mellarkablefiremutts]

Okay so after watching all four Hunger Games movies over the last 24 hours for the first time in like 5 years (reread books around the same time I would say) I have some thoughts to put out into the universe:

- I thought I remembered Catching Fire being my favorite THG movie but after binging all 4 movies back to back I really feel like Mockingjay PT 2 is my favorite. Actually before rewatching I remember reading reviews about how it wasn’t necessary to break it into 2 movies and I do think that’s true for general audiences but after watching I think for fans it was definitely necessary to get in all in and as accurate as possible.

-The additional casting/actors from MJ 1 who carry over and new characters as well are amazing (favorites Finnick and Johanna are fantastic, I appreciate even more the secondary characters like Boggs, Pollux, Castor, Cressida, etc and then there is Julianne Moore as Coin and Phillip Seymour hoffman as Plutarch, phenomenal acting performances ahhhh) and then you combine all these people with the plot of the end of the book. So awesome!

- I feel like Josh Hutcherson, Jennifer Lawrence and Jena Malone all could have won awards for their incredible performances. Really solid portrayals of what trauma and PTSD look like and all the repercussions of that.

- It is SO brutal. Such a gut punch emotionally. And I love it. I ball my eyes out when Finnick and Prim die, and in anticipation of their deaths when they have their last meaningful moments with people they love (dancing with Katniss, Finnick marrying Annie). Right after Finnick dies and Peeta lists off the names of the victors and driving the message home that Snow is responsible for all their deaths, truly. Waterfalls everywhere. I feel like I got to experience all those emotions again new because it’s been so long.

-I actually forgot that Gale’s bomb/Coin was the one who decided to drop that bomb on the capital children??? How could I forget that?! I had a moment like a newbie where I realized/remembered and was like OHH YEAHHH holy shit that’s fucking terrible..

-Somehow MJ2 seemed to tank with general audiences and I think it’s because those people are in it for a jolly happy ending, but that’s never been what the hunger games is. It’s a stark commentary on the brutality and effects of war and violence as well as socioeconomic disparity and government corruption. The distortion of truth to keep people under control (God that feels familiar now ugh). At the end Katniss and Peeta are broken almost beyond repair, save for the hope and healing they find in each other. I think that’s one of the reasons I like it best. The underlying messages of love and hope balanced with the reality of the losses and price that is paid for eventual peace. And from a YA series! Insane. It is so relevant and doesn’t pretend to be a neat and tidy superhero movie. But I do think that’s what people wanted/expected after the first books/movies and that’s too bad because all those people are missing the points that make this series so incredible.

- I love the visualization I get from MJ2 because my brain had trouble coming up with how those action scenes looked while reading.

- The movie makes it clear that there never was a “love triangle” type choice really (I know the book does as well but I guess I was pleasantly reminded of this?). In the beginning I found myself wondering how they were going to get the audience from “Peeta is a raging murderous mutt” to “Peeta recovers and They live a semi normal life together” but they managed it, for me anyway. It was always going to be Peeta if it was ever going to be anyone at all.

-One thing I realized I disliked about the last scene is how Katniss is wearing a frilly dress and is dolled up in a way that doesn’t seem like herself? I understand they were trying to represent a “new” version of her but I don’t think putting her in an outfit so out of character was really needed to do the trick. Maybe you could make the argument that she would have worn dresses if she wasn’t living in poverty just trying to survive but still, seemed out of character to me.

-I do wish there was more Johanna Mason. And more Finnick. More time to flesh out all the details. But all in all i do think it is my favorite of the four movies (for now anyway). Maybe this is an unpopular opinion? Oh well

- I didn’t realize Brienne of Tarth is in it so now it’s definitely my favorite lol

#i had too many thoughts and they wouldn’t leave me alone so #sorry not sorry #mockingjay #mockingjay part 2 #thg #the hunger games #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #finnick odair #johanna mason

[thehopefuldandelion]

Birds, Dreams, and other Happy Things

A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first fic EVER( I’ve read a ton but have never written one). I have been really loving the song Dream a Little Dream of Me specifically by Doris Day and I wanted to create a little fic about it. All grammar mistakes and errors are mine. :)

One shot, everlark...

And I do not own the hunger games...

FanFiction.net : 

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13456901/1/

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“You ready Katniss?” my roommate and singing partner, Johanna, asks me.

 “I guess,” I reply, “what if they hate the song?” 

“They won’t, otherwise I’ll beat them to bits.” That’s Johanna for you. Always telling me the God honest truth. Ever since I started working at this crusty, dilapidated bar a couple years ago, my life has changed. For the better, I guess. Life as an Everdeen has never been easy. Low paying jobs and Ramen have become the highlights of my shitty existence ever since my father died, leaving my mother to check out. My sister, Primrose, has had the happy childhood I never knew because of my efforts. At 16, I became a parent to her after my mother abandoned us, taking my dad’s life insurance money with her. Hell, I don’t know where she is but I hope I never see her greedy face again. Regardless, bills still have to be payed including Prim’s pricey college tuition. My rent is already 2 days late and I can’t afford- 

“Katniss,” someone calls in a gruff voice waking me out of my trance. I recognize it immediately as the bar owner, Haymitch Abernathy’s, voice. "You're on in 2.”

 I reply with a simple, 

“Thanks Haymitch.”

 Here goes nothing. 

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

“Peet, pleaseeeeeeee. I really need a wingman tonight. You are the best man for the job,” I can almost hear the pout in my best friend Finnick’s voice over the phone as he says this. 

“Finnick, you know I can’t. I have an important meeting tomorrow I need to be well rested for. This is my final opportunity to expand the bakery throughout the country,” I tell him in reply.

 I've known Finnick since we were in diapers, running around, eating baby food. He’s always been a great friend, especially in college, but can be a real douche when it comes to any and all responsibilities. 

“I’ll have you home by 1 at the latest. C’mon Peeta. You need the distraction after Delly-” 

“DONT TALK ABOUT HER,” I cut him off and then take a deep breath, “Ok, I'm sorry I yelled but you know it's still a sensitive topic for me.” 

He’s not wrong about me needing a distraction. I had just walked into our apartment, excited to tell Delly the news about the bakery, when I see her butt naked on another man. His name was Thom or something like that. What an asshole.  

“Fine,” I grumble, "I'll come BUT only if I get to leave when I want.” 

“YESSSSSSSSSS!” Finnick squeals like a schoolgirl causing me to roll my eyes. And that’s that. 

——————————————————————————

I place a kiss on my father’s picture with my index and middle fingers, a ritual I do before every performance no matter where it is. James Everdeen was a man with both spunk and spirit and sang with the most beautiful voice. If you listened closely enough, you could hear the silence of the birds as if to hear his melodious singing. It wasn't the same since after he died and I am still grieving his death. My mind strays to the thought of Prim hearing me sing tonight. Her college is out of state preventing us to see each other more than 4 times a year. I cherish every second of her company when she visits. 

As I step onto the worn stage and in front of the 1950’s style microphone, I remember how exhilarated I become whenever that spotlight focuses on me. On my left are the backup singers, Johanna and Annie, while on my right I can hear Thresh drop a beat as Gale plays the keyboard. My body and voice are one as the words seem to flow out of my mouth in tandem with the moving of my body. “This is for you dad,” I think to myself. 

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

The bar Finnick drags me to is called Abernathy’s, a small but welcoming place, near his apartment. Once inside, we both grab drinks and head over to a rectangular table. I notice Finnick winking at a stereotypical busty blond with fake eyelashes and large boobs. I roll my eyes exaggeratingly while I turn my attention to the stage (more of an elevated platform only 2 or 3 feet off the ground) as someone announces the next singer. I don’t catch her name because of Finnick’s obnoxious flirting.  

The girl, no, woman who walks out takes my breath away. From her toned, olive legs to her enticing grey eyes and dark hair, she is the most beautiful human being I've ever laid eyes on. The moment she opens her mouth I am captivated by her melodic voice. It is both sultry and sweet with a touch of harmony. I’m hooked like a fish on a line. It’s official, I’m a goner and I don’t even know her name.

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

Stars shining bright above you   

Night breezes seem to whisper I love you

Birds singing in the sycamore trees

Dream a little dream of me 

As my eyes wander over the surprisingly filled bar, I notice a pair of crystal blue orbs that seem to stand out from the rest of the crowd. His orbs are locked onto mine in a comfortable gaze. Who is this man? Why is he here? And why, oh why, do I want to sing this song for him?

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

Say night-ie night and kiss me 

Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me

 When I'm alone as blue as can be 

Dream a little dream of me 

The attraction between the singer and I is heated and I can't seem to tear my eyes away from hers. It seems as if time has stopped and it’s just the two of us. She seems to be singing the song directly at me until she continues searching the large crowd. Who is this woman who has captured my heart in a matter of minutes? 

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

Stars fading but I linger on dear  

Just craving your kiss 

I’m longing to linger till dawn dear 

Just saying this 

Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you  

Sweet dreams to leave all worries behind you

But in your dreams whatever they be 

Dream a little dream of me 

I tear my eyes away from his muscular body and slightly curled blond hair and focus on finding my sister in the crowd. Her small, slender frame and long blonde hair aren't hard to miss so I spot her right as the musical interlude ends. She gives me a smile filled with an emotion that reminds me of the day she convinced me to sing again. It was a deathly cold winter morning only a couple days after my father’s accident. I shut out the world and anything that made me feel happy including singing. I felt guilty, like I shouldn't sing because my dad is dead and I'm dishonoring him. Prim, darling, Prim dragged me out of bed, made me eat a hearty breakfast, and said she had signed me up for the Christmas caroling competition in town. No matter how much I bitched she would not have it. I did sing and I realized that my dad is still with me, both in my heart and voice. Humming and singing around the apartment has become a habit of mine ever since. Hey, singing pays the bills so how can I complain?

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

Stars fading but I linger on dear 

Just craving your kiss 

I’m longing to linger till dawn dear 

Just saying this 

Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you  

Sweet dreams to leave all worries behind you 

But in your dreams whatever they be 

Dream a little dream of me 

Dream a little dream of me 

Dream a little dream.... of me 

When the song concludes, the singer turns her back to the audience and says goodnight seductively over her shoulder causing me to drool. I must have really zoned out with thoughts of her because Finnick shakes my shoulder several times before I respond. 

“You ok, dude?” he asks concerned, “What were you thinking about?”

 I nod my head, anxious to go talk to the dark-haired goddess who just walked out of her dressing room. I jump out of my seat, startling people around me and walk (ok, run) towards my future.

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

As soon as I sing the last note, a wave of contentment envelops me like a blanket. This is where I belong, on a stage, honoring my father through song. 

Annie drags me off stage and leaves to get drinks for all of us. Thresh, the gentle giant he is, just pats my back and smiles. He has never been much of a talker but I appreciate his calming demeanor when I have a shitty day. I feel an arm wrap around my shoulder and see a familiar face, Gale. My best friend since we could hunt. Gale has been Prim and my life support for since my father died and would lug me out of bed on days my depression got the best of me. I can’t imagine life without his ugly face.

“Great job out there Catnip. You always do great,” he tells me. 

I scrunch my nose in response to the nickname he gave me when I was 11. 

“Not too bad yourself. Is Madge here or...?” 

“No, she’s complaining that everyone would laugh at her swollen feet.” He then looks at me with a humorous glint in his eye and says, “Pregnant women. Am I right?”

 Madge and Gale have been dating since high school and are now married with a baby on the way. I often find myself daydreaming about having what they have but I snap out of it. The chances of me having someone who cares for me and would want a family with me are slim. Some would say I’m picky but its more that I’m cautious. I saw what happened to my mother after my dad died. Love destroyed her in the end and I don't know if I could live like that.

 “I wouldn’t know,” I huff, “I will be in my dressing room”.

——————————————————————————

I bump into Johanna on my way back to the dressing room. She notices the scowl on my face.

 “What’s got your panties in a twist?” she asks mockingly. 

“It’s none of your concern, Johanna.” How am I supposed to explain to someone that what I want most of all, I can and will never have.

 A couple minutes later, after I’ve changed into more comfortable clothing, I hear a knock on the door. 

Johanna, in a screeching voice, says, “Brainless, you better get out here. Haymitch wants you to mingle with people.”

I gag. I don’t “mingle”. I avoid people at all cost. My sister is out there waiting for me, though, so I grudgingly walk into the main bar area.

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

There she is. The closer I get, the faster my heart starts beating. She’s even more beautiful up close than I could see from afar. The singer is wearing skinny jeans (which make her ass look divine), a flowy green blouse with a hint of cleavage, and not a trace of makeup can be found. Her hair is in an intricate but effortlessly messy braid. My fingers itched to unbraid it and run my hands through her luscious long locks.  

The woman is hugging a shorter blond headed girl who I assume is a friend or, possibly, sister. This intense urge to grab her by the waist and kiss her senseless bubbles up within me. I push it back down knowing I need to be of sound mind when I confront her. 

As I get closer, the blond girl says something about a cat to which the singer responds with a scowl. I’m about to tap her on the shoulder when a drunken man, about a head taller than me, with bleached hair steps in front of me and asks if the singer wants a drink. She tries to refuse but he doesn’t take no for an answer. On an impulse, I go up to her which shocks the man. 

“Hey honey,” I say while putting an arm around her waist and kissing the side of her head, “I’m sorry, I had to go to the bathroom.” 

My mind gets lost in her forest scented shampoo. She smells like evergreen trees during Christmas and her sweet perfume mixes nicely with the smell.  

The beautiful singer looks at me with wide eyes and a shocking expression on her face.Just when I thought this was a stupid idea, she continues the act by saying, “It’s ok, dear.” She then takes it a step further by laying her head on my chest as well as most of her body weight. 

The douchebag looks pissed, mumbles “whatever”, and walks away.

“Thanks for that...” She says and inquires for my name. 

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

“Peeta,” he responds with a crooked smile, “Peeta Mellark.” 

My first reaction to Peeta saving the day was to yell at him but as I smelled his scent, cinnamon and spices, I decided to play along.

 He sticks out his hand for me to shake. 

“Katniss, Katniss Everdeen,” I tell him. When I shake his hand, I feel goosebumps rise on my skin and an electrical shock go through my arm. I pull my hand away and look at his face. It’s obvious Peeta felt it too.

“Hey, could I maybe buy you a drink?” Peeta questions me nervously. 

“That would be nice,” I say in reply excited to see where this night may go.

Peeta and I end up talking the whole night through. He tells me that he grew up in his parent's bakery and wants to open a new one in New York. His 2 older brothers, Rye and Bran, were troublemakers until they settled down. As the night continues, we seem to drift from surface level topics and dive into the darkest parts of our pasts. When I learn about his abusive childhood from his mother, I start bawling caused by the 1 too many beers I’ve had. I recount stories from Prim and I’s childhoods and my job here at Abernathy’s. When my parents were brought up, I was reluctant to tell this handsome man about my dad but as soon a s I do, I'm comforted in a way I have never felt before. Haymitch eventually yells at us to get out of the bar and I leave with a content smile on my face. 

While I’m walking to the taxi, too intoxicated to drive, Peeta calls my name. 

“Katniss, can I have your number? So, we can... you know... talk... and... stuff?” 

As I turn around, his floppy blond curls are bouncing while he runs towards me. I giggle at his hesitant tone. We exchange numbers and I give him a kiss on the cheek which puts a pink blush on his face. 

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

Katniss and I went on our first date about 2 months later. A simple romantic picnic in the park while watching the sunset.

“Beautiful,” I said but not at the sunset. 

Without warning, she straddles my lap and gives me the shortest kiss making my body ache for more. From then on, we were inseparable. I love her and I want the whole world to know but I am not sure how to tell her. 

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

I have fallen hopelessly and incandescently in love with Peeta Mellark. He’s been there through every painful period, strenuous performance, and temper tantrum. Without him, I’m lost; But how do you tell someone you love them when you have never been in love before?

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

I hear the apartment door open and shut. Small, olive arms wrap around my waist. Katniss deeply sighs against my back.  

“Long day?” I ask. 

“Yeah. I missed you,” she tells me in return. 

I turn in her arms so I can face her and kiss the top of her head. Those beautiful silver orbs lock onto mine. A stray hair falls out of her braid, which I push behind her ear in a loving gesture. She rises on her tiptoes and brushes her lips against mine. Katniss sighs into my mouth as we tangle our tongues together.

 I can feel her tug on the hem of my gray Henley shirt which causes me to say sarcastically, "I didn’t cook us dinner just so it could burn.” 

Katniss gives off a hearty laugh and I fall in love with her even more. It seems just yesterday I was listening to her sing and admiring her beauty and now I get to call her my girlfriend. We both serve our plates and talk as we enjoy a relaxing evening at home. 

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

The next morning, I wake up and see a handsome, naked Peeta beside me. The sunlight flooding in from the open window hits his golden curls in a way that makes it look like he is wearing a halo. His muscular arms are wrapped around my slender waist and I lean my head back against his chest. This is what I have always dreamed of but never had.  

I give Peeta a languid kiss and his eyelids slowly open revealing those crystal blue eyes I’ve come to love. 

“If that’s my wakeup call every morning, I’m never leaving this bed,” he says in a low voice. 

“Peeta, I love you.” 

I said it. That confession is finally out in the open. I close my eyes, scared of his response. 

He puts a finger under my chin, causing my eyes to open. 

“Katniss, my love, I love you as well,” he says with a crooked smile.

 In that moment, I realize that Peeta is home. And as long as I'm with him, I will never feel lost.

 We spend the rest of the day in bed, repeating our confessions of love, and kissing to our heart’s content.

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

A/N: Ahhhhhh that’s it! I hope you liked it. Anyway uhhhhhhh ill check in with you all later. Bye ;)

#Hunger Games #fanfic #birds dreams and other happy things #singing #love #everlark