#abernathys baby edits

[ao3feed-everlark]

Swan Upon Leda

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/Z6FBRvV

by FyreFlys

“Ya know, Katniss and I. We’ve been luckier than most. I wouldn’t have any regrets at all…” and he pauses. “I-if it weren’t…” and he’s laying the acting on thick, “if it weren’t for…” he shakes his head.

“If it weren’t for… what what?” Caesar prompts.

Katniss tries to prepare herself for whatever bombshell Peeta is bound to drop.

Nothing could prepare her for his next words. “If it weren’t for the baby.”

Katniss’s stomach plummets. She gasps with the crowd. Dread sinking in her bones.

Katniss regrets that night 4 months ago during the victory tour, even if she doesn’t entirely wish it never happened. This part, however- the one where she’s being forced back into a death arena while four months pregnant- would be so much easier if it had never happened.

Peeta isn’t supposed to know. So why is he telling Caesar, and all of Panem, on national television?

Words: 14540, Chapters: 1/4, Language: English

Fandoms: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: F/M

Characters: Katniss Everdeen, Peeta Mellark, Haymitch Abernathy, Effie Trinket

Relationships: Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark

Additional Tags: everlark, Catching Fire, Mockingjay, Post Mockingjay, Quarter Quell, Slight Canon Divergence, book and movie lore, they’re both 19 because I said so, I mess with the timeline and length of events a bit, Violence, Blood, Murder, Gore, Death, greif, PTSD, Flashbacks, Nightmares, Trauma, Rebellion, Propaganda, warfare, Bombs, Guns, this is the hunger games yall idk what you’re expecting, Regret, Secrets, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, but a lot of the comfort is also hurt, Eventual Fluff, Caretaking, Morning Sickness, Hormones, Unplanned Pregnancy, Miscarriage, I mean come on there’s no way that baby survives all of THAT let’s be realistic here, fake dating to real dating, Allies to friends to lovers to estranged to lovers again to estranged again and then back to lovers, Falling In Love, Katniss is hesitant because she is scared to love and be loved, Finnick gets taken by the capitol instead of Peeta and he still dies, Im so sorry Finnick I love you but it had to happen, Happy Ending, making a family, I skim a lot of plot y’all know what happens, unbetaed and lightly edited, I wasn’t trying super hard with this one it was just or fun, greek mythology metaphors, no promises that I actually finish this, slow updates probably, this became way longer than I intended it to

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/Z6FBRvV

#everlark #everlark fic #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #thg #ao3feed

[lousolversons]

My name is the war on the 80 percent. My name is the void, collecting her rent. - Commanded By Voices by IAMX

#westworldedit #westworld hbo #westworld #dolores abernathy #doloresabernathyedit #television #gif #* #lyric edit #i said that's my evil baby and i'm proud!

[dolcresabernathy]

i choose to see the beauty.

#dolores abernathy #doloresabernathyedit #justice for dolores #westworld #westworldedit #westworlddaily #evan rachel wood #erwoodedit #my baby's swan song #the pain is real #my edits #gifs #i cannot believe she's gone #bring yourself back online #hbo #filmtv

[macuilli]

favorite book characters ➝ francis abernathy, the secret history.

Angular and elegant, he was precariously thin, with nervous hands and a shrewd albino face and a short, fiery mop of the reddest hair I had ever seen. I thought (erroneously) that he dressed like Alfred Douglas, or the Comte de Montesquiou: beautiful starchy shirts with French cuffs; magnificent neckties; a black greatcoat that billowed behind him as he walked and made him look like a cross between a student prince and Jack the Ripper. Once, to my delight, I even saw him wearing pince-nez. Francis Abernathy was his name.

#the secret history #tsh #tsh edit #donna tartt #francis abernathy #moodboard #fbc #mine #pure baby child #O M G #this was in my drafts for like #idk a year??? #lmao

[sparklingdust4612]

Reviweing "White velvet" by @mrspeetamellark!!! *loud cheering and hooting*

Favourite parts:

1- she was in no way to “look at another man’s dong” if she wanted to marry him in a month’s time. Katniss had been relieved when Johanna had agreed, telling her fiancé that he was “all the penis” she needed,

2- "Katniss, Delly, and Annie are all single, so while the strippers might not get totally naked for us tonight, I’ll bet they end up doing at least a little bumping and grinding on them, but definitely not on me. Who can blame a group of sexy single women for wanting to cop a feel on a hot semi-naked man? I’m all for letting them have their fun!”

3- “There’s no way in hell Catnip will let any of those meatheads near her, I can promise you that, baby”,

(Gale, the over-confident friend is setting himself up for disappointment lol)

4- "There’s one for each of us except for Jo, who has a man in her life already, so she doesn’t need any of the peen we’re about to see.”

5- Delly whispered to Jo, “Are they ever gonna strip?” to which Johanna replied, “They just walked in thirty seconds ago, woman, damn! Most of the appeal of a strip show is about the tease. Sit back and enjoy, and try to calm the fuck down!”

6- "tell me, how do you ladies feel about seamen?”, Finnick asked, with a wink, as he gestured to the captain’s hat he wore along with his sailor’s uniform.

The ladies all laughed at his semen joke,

7- Finnick announced that Thresh was a volunteer firefighter in his spare time who couldn’t wait to show the ladies his hose.

8- Peeta, is affectionally called ‘The Naked Baker’ due to his firm, round buns. If you like his ass though, ladies, just wait till you get a look at the outline of the huge loaf in his pants. Peeta’s a whiz with bread and desserts and is really into roll play, and I don’t just mean the bread.”

9- STDs be damned. Penicillin was invented for a reason, right?

(gotta love how her brain works lol)

10- "Your vag is going to dry up soon if you don’t have sex in the near future! Get on that!”

11- "An ass like that is worth pursuing!”

12-I promise I’m happy the three of you are all going to be getting some stripper dick tonight.

13- “Trust me, Abernathy’s is like a breeding ground for new relationships.

Ok seriously, i am blown away. this was so much better than anything i had anticipated. Great job and I cant wait to try some buns and a loaf haha

Edit: I also think it was simply adorable of Peeta to want to leave the job immediately (we all know 90% of his reason was Katniss, 10% was his own personality) awwww <3

#hunger games #hunger games fanfic #everlark #HEA #stripper!peeta #mrspeetamellark #reviewing #Stella reads

[captainseaweedbrains]

Ship: Everlark #48

Thank you so much for sending me a prompt! I hope you enjoy! As always, drabbles don’t exist in my world. So it’s a bit longer than I anticipated. :P 

Prompt: Meeting again at a high school reunion AU

Ao3: X

Send me a ship and a prompt and I’ll write a fic/drabble!

“If you don’t go over there and talk to him, I’m going to and you know I won’t edit out any embarrassing details,” Madge warned when she saw Katniss looking over at the Welcome table yet again. 

Katniss scowled, the alcohol clearly not kicking in yet. “I don’t need your help, Madge.” 

“You’ve been sitting here for twenty minutes, Katniss,” her friend pointed out, “watching that table like a scared hawk.” 

“Can a hawk be scared?” Madge glared at her and she conceded. “All right, all right. Yes, I am acting like a scared, made-up hawk, but I can’t help it! I made a total ass of myself back in high school. I’m afraid he’ll remember.” 

“Of course he’ll remember.” 

“You’re no help. Why’d I bring you as my date again?” 

Her friend smiled a winning smile and rubbed her swollen stomach. “Because my dearest husband decided a fishing trip with his brothers was more important than coming with me to our ten year high school reunion and he bribed you with anything you wanted from his store as thanks.”

“Right, right,” she laughed. “So why are you trying to pawn your date off on some stranger, Madge Hawthorne?” 

“Please!” Madge scoffed. “Peeta Mellark is so not a stranger to you. How many times did you two hook up in high school? In the band room, under the stage in the auditorium, the Home Ec room, and correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you two do it in Abernathy’s office?” 

Popping the maraschino cherry from her drink into her mouth, Katniss smiled. “I’m not confirming, nor denying, anything of the sort. We were total saints in high school.” 

“Uh huh.” Madge sighed and readjusted herself in her seat. “If you were total saints, why not go over and talk about your sainthood with Peeta, then?” 

Because she had broken his heart? Because 18-year-old Katniss panicked and ruined a great thing? Because she knew for a fact, thanks to Facebook and small town busybodies, that Peeta had just gotten out of an engagement with some gorgeous blonde who looked like a model and showing up now felt like cutting open an old scar? Because she was scared of telling him how she really felt then? And how those feelings haven’t really gone away and seeing him there, smiling and laughing next to Delly Cartwright as they welcomed old classmates, reminded her those feelings were definitely still there?

“Because he’s busy working the Welcome table,” she said instead. “Don’t you hate when people chit chat you up while you’re trying to work a table?” 

“No, but that’s because I’m not weird about people like you are.” 

“I miss the shy, barely-spoke Madge from high school,” Katniss teased, bumping her foot against Madge’s. “What happened to her?” 

“I joined a sorority in college and had to do three years of recruitment,” was all she said, still giving Katniss a pointed look. “Go talk to him, Katniss. Rip the band aid off.” 

She looked over at the table and frowned. “What if he tells me off? I don’t think I can handle that kind of rejection.” 

“He won’t,” Madge comforted, resting a hand on Katniss’ knee. “But you won’t know until you go over and say hello. Here,” she tore off her name tag and ripped it in half, handing the two pieces over to Katniss. “Ask for a new name tag for me as your excuse to talk to him.” 

She gratefully took the stickers and stood up, glancing over at the table. Two people were in line, the first person animatedly talking to both Peeta and Delly she didn’t recognize from behind. Yes, she can do this. With one long shot of her drink, she went and stood in line, Madge giving a whoop of cheer in support. 

The wait wasn’t long. Five minutes tops before she was walking up to the table, the two pale blondes smiling up at her, reminding her of all those times in high school they’d be managing the ticket table at lunch for Student Council or the ticket booth for football and basketball games. 

“Katniss Everdeen!” Delly welcomed in her high-pitched squeaky voice that hasn’t changed a bit in ten years. “I thought I saw you around! You silly goose, how are you? What have you been up to? How has life been treating you? How is that lovely sister of yours?”

“Delly,” Katniss smiled. Even now, after all these years, it was hard not to reciprocate the woman’s warmth and energy. “Life’s been good, thanks. Can’t complain. Still living at home with my mom and sister. Prim’s fine. Going to school to be a doctor.”

“That’s amazing! And you’re a teacher now, I hear, right?” 

“Um—yes, I am.” Her eyes shifted to Peeta, who was all smiles as well, before focusing back on Delly. “I’m a high school choral director at the high school next town over.” 

“You did always have a beautiful voice,” Peeta stepped in and her legs almost turned to jello at the sound of his familiar yet somewhat deeper voice. “Inspiring students to find their voices.” Ever the wordsman, Peeta Mellark was. 

“Yes,” she blushed, unable to help herself. “Um. That’s a really nice way of saying I spend half my time telling my classes to quiet down so we can get some work done.” They laughed and that helped calm some of her anxiety. “How are you both? I haven’t seen either of you since we all left for college!” 

Delly answered first. “I’m a proud Stay-at-Home-Mom—” 

“Don’t get her started on her triplets or else we’ll be here all night,” Peeta teased, happily accepting Delly’s shove. 

“Wow,” Katniss breathed. “Triplets. That’s—that’s a lot of babies!” 

“That’s what Thom says—you remember Thom, right, Katniss? We all had gym together in eleventh grade. Well, he’s my amazing husband now and he’s always joking how we nailed it out of the park on the first try.” She held out her phone to show a picture of three chubby toddlers, two girls and a boy, smiling cheekily at the camera in nothing but their diapers. “Gretchen, Analise, and Tommy,” Delly explained, pointing to each happy baby. “They just turned three last month and boy, are they keeping me busy!” 

Katniss nodded. “They look adorable, Delly. Look just like you.” 

“Thank you. That’s what everyone says.” She put her phone away. “Anyone in your life, Katniss?” 

“Oh, um. No.” She looked down at the stickers in her hand, realizing she didn’t need it now with Delly talking a mile a minute. “Work keeps me pretty busy and most guys don’t understand why I prioritize a bunch of high schoolers over—well, everything.” She laughed, feeling a bit awkward now talking about her non-existent love life. 

Delly looked over at Peeta, a knowing look in her eyes. “Peeta knows exactly how that is.” 

“Delly,” he said, rolling his eyes at her. “I’m a high school art teacher,” he explained to Katniss. “And I run the school’s debate and speech teams for some extra money. So I get prioritizing your students over everything else.” 

Oh. She didn’t know he was a teacher, too. Well that made a lot of sense why it was a pain hunting him down on Facebook. How had she not put two and two together? “Elective teachers unite,” she joked half-heartedly, feeling nervous again now that the attention was on him. 

“May our program budgets always just barely make the cut,” he joined in, all smiles. She smiled back, unable to help herself. His smiles, familiar despite time away, always made her feel more at ease. 

“You know, ever since I had the triplets, my bladder has never been the same,” Delly abruptly said standing up. “I have to visit the potty. The bathroom,” she corrected herself. “We’re working on potty training right now. Peeta, guard the table while I’m away?” 

“Oh. Uh, sure thing, Dells.” 

“You keep a close eye on him, Katniss. Make sure he doesn’t cause any mischief,” Delly warned with a wag of her finger before walking away, waving to those she knew as she went, which seemed to be everyone.

Katniss stood there for a moment, forlornly watching their buffer leave. She barely knew Delly, but now as the curly-haired blonde left, she felt a bit of a betrayal of being left alone with Peeta. 

“You don’t have to watch over me,” Peeta said, her attention snapping back to him. “Delly was just teasing.” 

“Oh no, it’s okay.” It wasn’t, not really, but admitting that would make things ten times more awkward. “Madge is my supposed date tonight, but she’s been spending more time in the bathroom than with me. So it’s fine. Um.” Just get it over with! “How are you, Peeta?” 

“I’m fine, Katniss. Thank you for asking.” 

“Of course, of course.” Wishing she’d consumed more alcohol before pursuing this quest, she went forth, “I heard you moved back into town. With your brother?” 

He shook his head. “I forgot how small this town is. Yeah. I moved back. Go on and ask.” He motioned at her, rolling his eyes. “About my engagement. Everyone’s been asking about it.” 

Katniss winced. “I didn’t want to pry, but yeah, I heard.” 

“As did many others.” He sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I’m fine, really. I broke it off with her, actually. Wasn’t a right fit,” he explained. “I didn’t think it fair to either of us to continue further, but it still hurts a little.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Peeta.” But was she really, though? Was she seriously happy about a guy she hadn’t spoken to in over ten years being single again? God, she was a horrible person. “But it sounds like you did the mature thing. Breaking it off like that.” 

He shrugged. “That’s what everybody tells me.” 

Someone came up behind her and she stepped aside as Peeta snapped into greetings mode. It was amazing watching him change so swiftly like that. Some people truly never changed, she realized, remembering how quickly he seemed to change moods at the flip of a switch. He did it the day she broke things off with him. How his eyes cascaded down in disappointment and she’d wondered if he might cry after confessing how he felt about her for all this time, but then someone had walked in, calling out to them, and he became all smiles and acted like nothing drastic had happened between them.

It was a bit unsettling, the more she thought about it now. 

The line of late comers started growing and Delly still hadn’t returned. Deciding to keep her promise, Katniss took a seat next to Peeta and smiled as another former classmate stepped up, ignoring the quizzical look he sent her as they were asked questions about times for the planned events and how they both were doing. Many assumed they were married now, remembering how close the two were in high school, and thank god for Peeta stepping in and saving her stumbling tongue, explaining how Katniss was just keeping Delly’s seat warm until she returned and that they hadn’t seen each other until tonight. 

After the third or fourth classmate assumed their matrimonial union, Katniss laughed, picking at the ripped sticker she’d stuck to her skirt for safe keeping. “I didn’t realize so many people remembered us together.” 

“Small town school,” he reminded her, his tone light and joking. Like she didn’t stupidly break his heart. “I’m not surprised they remembered you. You forget how much of an effect you have on people, Katniss.” 

Her cheeks warmed. “I think you mean yourself there, Mr. Popular. I was that awkward band and choir girl with the braces who never shut up about why the Baroque style was far superior to Classical.” 

“I remember those rants fondly,” Peeta laughed. “Your face would get all pinched because I barely knew what you were talking about, so I couldn’t offer any opinion. And I loved those braces! The silver brackets really brought out the silver in your eyes.” 

She rolled her eyes, remembering that line he used to pull every time she complained about her teeth. “Well I’m happy to say those days are gone. I’ve been metal-free since college.” 

“Took that long, huh?” 

“I’m pretty sure my orthodontist was just milking it for my money those last three years,” she laughed. “My teeth looked pretty straight to me.” Katniss smiled widely, showing off her white, straight teeth she suffered many mouth cuts and rubber band snaps to achieve. He joined her and wow. It really did feel like no time had passed between them. Like they were just a couple of teens back in high school, making fun of a teacher or a douchey classmate. 

Peeta looked down at the table, tapping his pen in thought. “You know,” he said after a moment, still looking down, “I am free from this table at 7.”

“That makes sense,” she nodded. “If people haven’t arrived in the first hour and a half, that’s their loss.”

“It is,” he smiled, glancing up at her. Yes, his eyes were still as clear blue as she remembered, and was it possible for eyelashes to grow? His looked longer now. “If you’d be fine with it, Katniss, I’d like to catch up with you some more.” Was it her imagination or did he seem nervous? That made no sense. She broke his heart. If anyone should be nervous, it was her. And she was. The constant flutter in her stomach more noticeable now with her sitting so close to him. 

“Oh. Um.” It was her turn to look down at her hands. “Okay. Sure. Yeah, that’d be great.” 

Peeta seemed uncertain, though. “Are you sure? Was I too forward just now? Sorry, ever since my break-up, I seem to be a bit rusty talking with people.” That was hard to believe. 

“No, no!” Katniss rushed to assure him. “I just—didn’t think you’d really want to catch up after how we ended things.” There. She mentioned it. Old heartbreak was out there now. “I know I messed things up pretty badly.” 

To her surprise, Peeta laughed, shaking his head. “Trust me, that is water under the bridge, Katniss. I was stupid and should have picked up on the vibes you were sending me.” 

“And I was stupid, too,” she said, a bit shyly. 

“High schoolers can be pretty stupid.” 

“I don’t know,” she smiled. “Mine seem a lot smarter than when we were that age.” 

“Mine too.” He pretended to think. “Perhaps we were just idiots and it has nothing to do with how young we were.” 

She laughed. “Maybe.” 

He tapped her pen with his. “To being idiots?” 

“To being idiots.” She tapped his pen back. 

And at 7 o’clock sharp, Peeta declared it was time they drank until they got so drunk, it was like they were back at Finnick Odair’s Friday night after-game parties. Katniss happily agreed, sternly reminding him she wasn’t going to make out with him tonight like they used to do in the toolshed during those parties, causing him to burst out laughing. Quickly scrawling out Madge’s name on a new sticker, she told Peeta she’d meet him at the bar. 

“I have to give my date her sticker.” He told her the booze waited for no one and headed to where a group of their classmates were chanting for someone to “Chug! Chug! Chug!” She smiled and went back to Madge, who was chatting with Leevy Anderson, an old friend of hers. 

“Well,” Madge asked after Leevy excused herself. “You were gone an awful long time. Did you get my sticker?” Katniss handed it to her with a smile. “I take it things went well? Or were you just sputtering out nonsense.” 

“It went very well,” Katniss told her, glancing over at the bar where Peeta stood, holding two drinks out, one clearly being hers. “We’re going to get crazy drunk now because this night has been extremely long for both of us. I hope you’re fine driving me?” 

“One of us needs to get crazy drunk tonight,” Madge laughed, patting her stomach. “Drink for me, too?” 

“Of course.” 

“Going to make out with Peeta Mellark like old times?” her friend teased, noticing Peeta now. “I’m sure there’s a closet you two can sneak into.” 

Katniss scoffed at her friend’s blatant assumption. “No, we’re not making out tonight, Madge.” Madge nodded, taking a sip of her pop. “We might next Friday, though,” she added a bit coyly. “He’s taking me out to dinner.” And she walked away before her friend could say anything further.

#Everlark #The Hunger Games #Everlark fanfic #The Hunger Games fanfic #Everlark fanfiction #The Hunger Games fanfiction #my writing #asks #mandelion82 #high school reunion #fluff

[uthseikoashx-inflamedme]

(a senseless, compulsive and without any objectivity post really, and there's a lot of mistakes)

I just rewatched FB1 and 2 this evening and:

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

I forgot how awesome were Newt, Tina, Queenie and Jacob in FB1

I forgot how FB1 had a so well-written plot and how satisfying was this movie

I looked after Graves/Grindelwald and watching the scenes where he appears is a hilarious experience, I was delighted to analyse everything he said and did with his true identity in mind (and when MACUSA employees talk about Grindelwald with him- I'm a simple girl, I smirk)

(Also, he is very smart, the way he manipulates everyone when he discovers about Newt's Obscurus is something I liked to watch)

(How nobody found out he was not Percival Graves - he was doing power wandless and informulated magic constantly, it's the sign of marvellous skills - and Grindelwald almost didn't hide it, his colleagues were a bit oblivious, weren't they? I mean, they knew the true Graves, they never figured out?)

I was so invested in FB1 and its characters it was amazing

Also, Credence is definitely not human, he seems more... etheral? Is it because he's originally an Obscurus or something like that?

(Also something can be sure, even if both Ariana and Credence are Obscurus, they can't belong to the same nature - if Credence was initially a human like Ari was, he would have died after the MACUSA employees casted their spells - Ari just died and his corpse was lying on the floor, she didn't transform herself like Credence did)

Also, Grindelwald is odious, detestable towards Credence, I didn't want to punch someone in the face like this since a quite long time

Fantastic Beasts: Crimes of Grindelwald

About FB2, it was sometimes strangely... unsatisfying (or not strangely, because there are flaws which were not in FB1 to my opinion)

I'm happy because I understood this time how Jacob kept his memories and already knew Credence survived thanks the end of FB1

But unfortunately, even if I know the story, it seems to be so rushed - to many characters to be really empathetic for me

Also I had the feeling there's a lot of them who actually didn't do so much, who are just parts of the plot and not real personalities? Maybe I was less focused - I was - but still

In fact, I think my real problem with the film is: it shows glimpses of a larger story and the main story doesn't deserve alone a film

To me, the main plot is about Credence, the second one is about Newt and his team

To be honest, even if I do love Newt's team, specially Queenie arc who's a very lovely character (and damn interesting (but she didn't do good things in FB2 sniff)) (but Tina and Jacob and Newt were so sweet hell) the real story was about Credence - in fact, showing how Credence ended up with Grindelwald was probably the aim of the film

And besides, the movie wanted to show good guys arc (so Newt who wants to reconcile with Tina, Tina who wants to find Credence, Jacob who wants to find Queenie, Queenie who's confused and hopeless), a bit of context about Dumbledore's and Grindelwald's origin story, the rising influence of Grindelwald back in 1927, how the two most powerful wizards of their age organised their own team of allies, and I didn't mention Leta's backstory with Newt and with Corvus, Yusuf's own backstory, Theseus, Grindelwald's acolytes Rosier and Abernathy, Grimmson role, I forgot Travers also, and Flammel, and also Nagini- hell in fact the movie is saying a lot - I swear I didn't wanted to write a that long list but well it might explain why I am a bit confused about that movie

And again I don't understand why it didn't work for me because I love lore, to see the web between the data, the events and the persons and that exactly what the movie does

(Entirely irrelevant here, but I'm personally betrayed by Grindelwald who's a huge bastard, a real monster, and everytime I see him as an adult I'm sad because if he had done the good choices and - for example - didn’t take pleasure to kill people and actually fought for a genuine "Greater Good" both Albus and Gellert could have been happy pfff)

(Again irrelevant, but I couldn't help but laugh at the end with the parallel between Grindelwald and Dumbledore, I saw them as two ex who are still resentful against the other - but here, their fight takes mondial proportions, and they found a new ally to piss off the other, and I know I shouldn't seeing that but bloody hell I'm tired of this film I'm sorry I will stop)

It feels like a necessary exposition to prepare FB3 but not like a real, intimate film? In my opinion again, I can understand if you actually liked FB2

It's beautiful nonetheless, the clothes, the ambiance, the decor and the attention on the details, it's fairly amazing

The music, the realisation and the editing were great too, to my opinion - sometimes the editing is brilliant in fact, it draws parallels

Having a lot of lore and a lot of characters to theorise and write is awesome too, even if I believe it was not exactly the goal the movie wanted to achieve

(The way Dumbledore tried to manipulate Newt, also so interesting, the only difference between he and his former lover here is the gentle music (and the not-so-gentle smile of Grindelwald facing Queenie))

ALSO, everytime Credence sees his baby Phoenix Grindelwald is around, a point which support the theory of Credence-not-actually-a-Dumbledore with a Phoenix summoned, by a way or by another, by Grindelwald himself

(True question, why didn't Gellert kill Newt (and Theseus) in Père-Lachaise after the meeting - because no-fuckin-body is going to convince me he wasn't able to do it and he loathes Newt (because because of him Grindelwald had been arrested by MACUSA and Newt is Dumbledore's protégé))

(Or maybe Leta cast a protection like Lily did??? Actually why not??? (I hope not it will ruined a bit the sense of it if it is a so common protection))

(Or maybe Gellert knows he will need at least one of them in the future? Because he's a Seer, etc)

To sum up, the movie is great to theorise and will take sense in the future when the next movies will be released, but as a film itself, I was a bit let down

(I don't want to just yell at the film, I will never be able to create something like that and I'm probably too young and inexperienced concerning movie's creation but pfff I wanted to express what I was thinking about it so here I am)

Sorry about the multiple mistakes, again I'm not a native speaker and it's a bit a shitpost so I guess it's not so serious, but sorry anyway!

#i don't want to tag a lot of things idk #fantastic beasts #fantastic beasts and where to find them #fantastic beasts crimes of grindelwald #fb #fbwtft #fbawtft #fbcog #albus x gellert #grindeldore #ggad #gellert x albus #why EVERYTIME i post something i tag the ggad tags hell am i that obsessed? #albus dumbledore x gellert grindelwald #(i forgot this one) #gelbus #(this one too) #i know (i suppose?) the grindeldore fandom likes theories and i suppose this post might interest several persons? #it's not a brilliant post though really #sorry again about the mistakes

[desperationandgin]

Deep as the Road is Long (Part II, Chapter 16)

Rating: General Audiences

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A/N: Surprise! A bonus chapter. I realize I haven't gone through and replied to anyone's comments for the last chapter that was posted. I need to and I will, but in the meantime, I wanted to offer a chapter early as my sincere and heartfelt gratitude. The feedback has been passionate all the way around regarding this story whether readers have been frustrated with Jamie, sad for him (sad for both of them) or firmly on Claire's side. I know I've said this before, but I really didn't think anyone would ever read a story with this specific subject matter; I was just writing it for me. So, I'm really touched and floored at the reception of it all. Here's hoping I stick the landing, and here's to goodbye to Part 2! 

Thank you all so, so much from the bottom of my heart. Part 3 begins on Thursday.

December 2016

When the monitors began to pick up the rhythm in which they beeped, when Faith’s breathing changed, Claire knew. She’d yelled, that much she remembers, the screaming for Jamie, for someone to find him. Without thinking, she’d climbed right onto the bed with the little girl, reached out to touch her cheek, to beg her not to go, not yet. There were no life-saving measures performed; that hurdle and those signatures from Jamie to not resuscitate had been taken care of two weeks ago. And so, all Claire could do was hold Faith as she took her final breath, unable to process that it happened, that she was gone. The only sound was the single tone until Jamie thundered in, looking like a complete mad man, eyes wild as he took in the scene in front of him. Never in her life had she felt so much like nothing, trying to apologize while cradling his dead daughter.

Eventually, she’d moved so that he could take over, pulling Faith to his body and crying in a way that was so loud and so guttural Claire thought he might die, too. In the immediate days afterward, she tried telling herself she’d lost patients before, that she’d been the witness to more parents’ tears of agony than she could remember, but even with that thought, she knew this was different. Different because she’d started to fall in love with Jamie and she already loved Faith. The pain, at that time, was unmatched by anything she’d ever felt in her life. Even her husband’s death. When the police notified her of Frank’s accident she’d felt numb, felt nothing for such a long time. When it happened, she couldn’t imagine anything that would ever feel worse.

She learned after Faith’s funeral, there’s always a worse.

She’d been able to feel it, the shift between her and Jamie. Claire knew it was only a matter of time before he told her to go. To his credit, he never said that, exactly.

Your best wasna good enough.

When he said it she’d known he was right; the rest of the fight (could she even call it that?) was a blur to her, registering his words and letting them settle on her heart. After getting on the plane back home, she’d cried (her poor seatmate) until the flight attendant brought whisky minis and an extra pillow. Sleep for the duration of the flight was fitful, but once she was home she’d collapsed in bed and hadn’t moved for twelve hours. The harsh light of day only served to bring into focus what she couldn’t do anymore: treat terminally ill children. Not until Faith died in her arms did Claire realize how many devastating moments she had already been witness to, and couldn’t bear the idea of going through more. She hadn’t stopped second-guessing herself, wondering if she’d done the right thing, if the treatment had been the right course. For an entire day, she’d pored over Faith’s chart and all of her medical records; it did nothing to help, nothing to ease Claire’s mind. She should have recommended surgery or donor stem-cells; anything but what she’d done.

The doubt hadn’t left by the time she returned to work and she knew the second she stepped foot in her office that this branch of medicine wasn’t something she could physically do anymore. That was the day she spoke to her direct superior and decided to take a leave of absence at the hospital, knowing upon her return (if she returned) it wouldn’t be to that wing. All of her current patients and courses of treatment were explained and passed on to the only doctor she knew would give the same level of care - Joe Abernathy. He was a good man, and as they’d hugged, he’d kissed the side of her head, knowing (even if he didn’t know) this last death had done a number on her. With one more sweep of her office, Claire’d left, gone home, and hadn’t returned. She’d always been good with money; it was the one thing her Uncle Lamb had never worried over in regards to her well-being. She had the rest of Lamb’s money to live on for a while, everything she’d inherited when he died, along with Frank’s life insurance money. All she’d done with the latter was pay for the funeral, everything else has been in a savings account, waiting for the day it could be put to good use.

June was spent doing as little as possible, not letting herself drink anymore but not doing much else in the self-care department. Tears seemed to turn on like a switch being flipped; dinner one night was pizza ordered in, and all it’d done was make her sob for two hours before going to bed without eating a single slice.

In July, she decided she wasn’t ready, that going to work wasn’t something she could stomach yet, and so she’d turned in her phone, the phone that technically belonged to the hospital. When she’d finally made the decision to replace it she was asked if all of her contacts should be imported to her new device, if her photos should be. With hesitation, she’d finally said yes to keeping everything; photos of Faith and Jamie. Jamie’s number. She’d kept it all even though looking at the pictures did nothing but hurt.

Finally, in August, Claire knew she couldn’t avoid making an income again, and so she’d applied for and accepted a job as a general practitioner in a pediatrician’s office. Sore throats and objects stuffed in noses, healthy babies at normal checkups, that’s what she could handle. It worked out, it eased her mind, and slowly she fell into a routine again that was hardly living. She existed in the world, and it would have to be enough. She wasn’t making decisions anyone put all of their hope into, she didn’t have to watch anyone suffer because she did something wrong. Weeks passed; she went to work, saw her patients, and went home. Forgiving herself was slow going, but eventually, the pressure in her chest eased just a little.

And then Jamie called.

It was early on an October morning; Fridays the doctor’s office was closed, so she was home when his name flashed on her caller ID. Jesus H. Christ. Mostly, she’d listened after she picked up. His words registered, that he didn’t truly blame her, but the way he’d looked at her when he said it--he’d meant it then. Maybe he didn’t believe it anymore, but he had then. She heard him say she hadn’t let him down around the same time she’d started to cry. He promised to call again, and he had. He’d called the next day, then the next. Sometimes they didn’t say much, just sat on the line with static between them. Other times they spoke in circles around Faith, not saying her name, but remembering.

By the time December rolls around, they’ve spoken every single night since late October, never missing, even if the conversations are short. They FaceTime every now and again, and when her phone rings today, she can see it’s for video. Looking at herself in her phone camera she groans at hair that’s a mess piled on top of her head, the reading glasses she’s wearing and the ratty t-shirt with holes she has on. He’s caught her cleaning, but still, she accepts the call.

“Good morning,” she greets him, holding the phone out. She has to puzzle out what’s filling the screen on his end, tilting her head from side to side before giving up. “What am I looking at?”

Jamie’s face finally comes into view and he sits back. She recognizes the room he’s in, the library at Lallybroch with all of its old books and secrets. “Afternoon, technically,” he corrects for his own time zone. Then, he shows her the book she’d had an extreme close-up of. “I’ve been going through the books, trying to make some sort of catalog so we know what we have,” he explains. “And this one, well. I thought perhaps ye might like it as a gift.”

She can see the author is e.e. cummings and raises an eyebrow. “A gift for me, really?”

“Aye. Because it’s an original edition.”

That gets her full attention, and Claire frowns in disbelief. “Jamie, why would you give that to me? You should keep it. That has to be valuable, or at least mean something to your family.”

He makes a noise in the back of his throat. “I thought that, until I started to read and--” he pauses, looking down at the book in his hand now, swallowing.

“What, Jamie?”

There’s quiet for a few beats before his gaze meets the camera again. “I started to read it and everything reminded me of ye. So, I thought the book should belong to you instead.”

A lump feels lodged in her throat and when she finds her words again, they’re quietly spoken. “Which poems?”

“Och, Christ, dinna ask me that,” he says in a rare show of, well. Not quite embarrassment, even though his cheeks do turn a little pink.

“I can’t take something from your home without knowing.”

There’s a long pause before finally, he opens the book and simply begins to read. She doesn’t recognize the words, but his voice and soothing lilt make her heart, for the first time in months, unclench a bit.

“My blood approves and kisses are a better fate than wisdom. Lady, I swear by all the flowers. Don’t cry--the best gesture of my brain is less than your eyelids’ flutter which says we are for each other. Then laugh, leaning back in my arms. For life’s not a paragraph. And death, I think, is no parenthesis.”

By the time he finishes there are tears threatening to fall from her eyes, and she takes a deep breath, sniffling and brushing any moisture away. “Reminded you of me?” she reiterates.

“I want ye to have it. And perhaps ye could come get it.”

She isn’t sure of what he said, still too wrapped up in the poem. When it registers, she furrows her forehead. “Come and get it?”

Jamie clears his throat, quiet as he waits for it to sink it.

When it does, Claire’s eyes go wide. The last time she’d been to Scotland it changed everything she thought she knew about her life. “You want me to come there?”

“Aye, I do. But if ye canna do it, if I ruined it, if I...what I’m trying to say, Sassenach, is that I dinna want ye to be alone for Christmas. Everyone here would be glad to see ye.”

“You...you would be glad to see me?”

Jamie nods, his gaze intent. “I shouldn’t have let ye leave the first time.”

He’s apologized so many times, tried to make it right, what he’d said, what he’d done. She believes him now when he says she did her best, when he tells her that he knows there was nothing else she could have done. It doesn’t inspire her to pick up where she left off, though. She’s happier now, content to answer the questions of first-time parents and assure them they’re doing just fine. Still, even with forgiveness, she never thought Jamie would ask her back to Scotland, that they would ever share the same space again. She hears herself saying she’ll come, though as she lays in bed that night after purchasing a plane ticket, she can’t quite believe it.

She’d tried, a little more than a year ago now, to wrap her mind around her feelings for Jamie; the attraction was there, no doubt. Now as she lays in bed, she wonders if they fell into one another because he was sad and she took advantage of him as he sought some sort of anchor. If she hadn’t done exactly that, then was Faith the only link between them? Without her, and with her death leaving such a large hole in both of them, would there be anything left with Jamie to salvage? This trip, she knows, will give them both the answer either way.

When she arrives and makes it down to baggage claim she sees him right away; he’s hard to miss, giant that he is. Making her way to him, there’s a moment of not being sure whether or not to hug him before his arms wrap fully around her.

It’s the best she’s felt since February.

“It’s good to see ye, Claire. In person, I mean.”

When he pulls back she immediately feels bereft, but there’s a small smile playing on her lips. “It’s good to see you, Jamie. You look well.”

He walks with her to get her bag, turning his gaze to her. “Speaking of looking well. Were those glasses in the video last we spoke?”

Grabbing her suitcase, she raises an eyebrow. “They were. For reading. I had to bite that particular bullet in September.”

“I havena seen ye wearing them before,” he says, wracking his brain and going through every FaceTime conversation they’ve had since October.

“I never happened to be wearing them. The other day I was cleaning, going through bills and organizing paperwork.”

“Ye should do more paperwork when I call,” he teases lightly, taking her bag from her to carry.

He liked her glasses, and Claire ducks her head a little as she walks behind him a bit, letting him lead the way to his car. It’s still there, she thinks. Whatever it was, the embers are still warm. She remembers how he made her feel, what the guilt was like when he’d told her it was her fault and hers alone that Faith was gone. It doesn’t go away with smiles and conversation, but he is trying to fix it. Day by day, he tries to add another suture to the wound he made. She knows he’s trying, knows he sees a therapist twice a week. He’s trying, and rather than shut him out, her heart tells her not to give up on Jamie.

At Lallybroch, that same sense of family she felt the first time she ever stepped inside envelops her now. It makes her feel connected to something, close to people who’d treated her like family. Instead of Jenny needing to warm up to her, Jamie’s sister greets her like an old friend with a hug, Ian replicating the gesture. The children dogpile her as well; even young Michael who was so small back in May offers her grins and lets her hold him on her hip as they walk to the living room. Claire hadn’t been sure what to expect; everyone still in mourning, maybe because she felt that way for a long while. But there are so many smiles and so much lightness that a peace she’s never been able to find on her own settles against her like a blanket.

This is what healing with family does, and she suddenly, desperately, never wants to let it go.

Instead of staying in Jamie’s room, this time she has her own, and she crashes almost immediately, sleeping through until breakfast the next day. She lets the chatter of family around a table wash over her, and on a walk with Jamie afterward, confesses to him she’s never had that.

Somewhere between the house and the stables, Jamie stops walking, turning to look at her fully before lowering his head. Tentatively, his hand reaches out, index finger hooking around hers. “I ken ye’ve been alone for a verra long time, Claire. I’ve been waiting to say this, was hoping to do it face to face, but…” When he looks at her again, meets her eyes, his own look like a raging sea. “I left ye to go toe-to-toe wi’ the grief alone. I pushed ye away and sent ye home to nothing. That ye found your way out of the dark anyway is a miracle. It took Jenny and Ian both to get me there. So it leaves me to believe one thing about ye.” Raising her hand, he kisses her knuckles before finally letting her go. “You’re stronger than I am, Sassenach.”

There’s a lump in her throat that she can’t quite swallow, and she shakes her head, wrapping her arms around herself. “I’m still in the dark, Jamie. Or at least the shadows. I don’t know anymore.”

“And that’s my fault,” he tells her; not a question. An acceptance. “I’m no’ sure why you're even bothering to give me the time of day, truth be told. I never expected ye to answer the phone when I called, or to keep doing so after the first time we spoke. I can never do or say enough to make what I said right.”

“I changed my entire life because of what you said to me, Jamie.”

“Claire, I--”

“No. No, I need to say this. I need to talk now.” She has no idea where that comes from, but he respects it, and once he nods for her to continue, Claire clears her throat. “I changed my life. I couldn’t stop second-guessing myself, I couldn’t...stop questioning every decision I was making about treatment plans, which meant I couldn’t do my job. And that was your fault.”

His head bows but he doesn’t interrupt.

“It was also your fault that I started thinking about all of the times I might have to go through this again. In my job, the ideal, obviously, is to beat cancer, and I have before. I know I would have again. But one more loss like that...I don’t think I could do it. I don’t think I could go through it and make it to the other side a second time. So, it’s your fault I realized I need to do something different. I need to see the joys of life through a child, not fear and pain and sadness.”

Jamie steps forward when Claire stops speaking, tentatively reaching up to stroke her cheek with his thumb. It’s a light touch, hovering almost. “I hurt ye. And no matter what revelations came of it, that will no’ change. I would spend the rest of my life making it up to ye if I could. If ye’d let me.”

Claire looks at up him, bringing a hand to rest over his that’s still tucked close to her face. “Faith brought us together, Jamie.”

“Aye,” he whispers, slowly moving until his forehead can press against Claire’s. “I will no’ let her be the reason we’re apart. Stay in Scotland. Stay for a while until the darkness is gone and there are no more shadows.”

For a moment her eyes close and all she can do is breathe him in. But she feels herself nodding, nose grazing his.

“Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.”

Through the darkness to the dawn And when I looked back, you were gone. Heard your voice leading me on Through the darkness to the dawn. Love is deep as the road is long And it moves my feet to carry on. It beats my heart when you are gone. Love is deep as the road is long.

Next Chapter

#outlander fic #outlander #jamie x claire #jamie fraser #claire fraser #datril #deep as the road is long #my fic

[nellie-elizabeth]

Outlander: Perpetual Adoration (5x05)

Honestly, this episode felt kind of disjointed to me. Several of the pieces were good, but the picture they made in the end was less than it should have been.

Cons:

I enjoyed, in theory, the flashbacks to Claire back in the twentieth century. We see a story of her losing a patient, Graham Menzies, because of an allergic reaction to penicillin. His death shakes her bad enough that she decides to go on a trip to London with Brianna, which leads to her crossing paths with Roger, and ultimately finding her way back to Jamie. The main issue I had here was the strange way the scenes were arranged. In the "behind the scenes" section of the episode they talk about how they had filmed the scenes in order but ended up rearranging them in editing, and honestly that doesn't surprise me to hear. We see Claire attending the Perpetual Adoration and talking to the priest, before we hear Graham explain what it means to him. I'm not sure why they did this - not only is it unnecessarily complicated from a narrative standpoint, but the scene with the priest is stronger, with the overt message of people never being lost if they are not forgotten. It should have come later anyway.

Also, while I liked the flashbacks, or at least parts of them, I was annoyed at how much focus they pulled from the story proper. Sure, it's fun to see Joe Abernathy again, etc. But the scene with Joe and Kezzie having surgery, Claire and Marsali discovering the penicillin... those are moments I wanted to linger on much more, and it's a bummer they were so brief.

I'll talk in a minute about Jamie's plot thread, which I thought was quite strong, but I did feel like the opening part, where Fergus and Jamie walk in and Knox is there, was kind of odd. Last week there was such a sense of the militia as this unit of people, and this week they were all but absent, with Jamie and Knox getting all the screen time. I could have used a bit more of a sense of the group of men, their dynamics, how they're feeling after everything that went down in Brownsville.

I try so hard to care about Roger and Brianna. Sometimes I manage it, but their fight about Bonnet was really just - disheartening to watch. It's not even that I don't care at all, it's more just that it's dour and unpleasant and it sucks. Roger being upset with Brianna for telling her rapist that her baby is his... like, who am I meant to feel sympathy for in this scene? Because I certainly don't feel it for Roger. Then there's Roger saying that because Bonnet's not dead, they'll need to go through the stones right away, and Brianna gets this conflicted look on her face, like she's still not sure that's what she wants. I'm already exhausted with this dynamic, and I didn't think I would be. I think part of the problem is that I know from the books that they don't leave yet. Who knows, maybe they change things wildly from book canon, but I kind of doubt it.

Pros:

So, while I had my problems with the flashbacks, ultimately I enjoyed seeing Claire in this twentieth century setting, and her voice-over worked really, really well here. Outlander's use of voice-over has been inconsistent, but it's best employed when it's being used to convey a theme or philosophy instead of simply narrating events. Here, we have Claire ruminating on the nature of time, and how that relates to God. It's an excellent theme. We see how in the sterile, "safe" environment of the 1960's, a patient dies senselessly because of an undetected allergy. Meanwhile in the past, Claire is playing God by creating penicillin far before its time, and she uses it to perform successful surgery. Her foreknowledge and skill can and will create a ripple effect, and it's definitely one of the core themes I love to see Outlander explore.

Plus, the actor playing Graham Menzies was genuinely charming, and it was nice to see Claire have a chance to grieve Jamie in a more conventional sense. It's heartbreaking to think about how her original grief for Jamie was subsumed as she tried to be a wife to Frank and a mother to Bree. But decades later, with Frank dead and Brianna grown, she can start to process some of her feelings. She also ends up on the path that leads her back to him, so it all ends up for the best. Also, they brought in the romance novel thing! That's one of my favorite details from the book. Fun to see Joe again!

While Roger and Brianna's scenes left me feeling a little cold, I don't fundamentally dislike these characters. Roger shines brightest when he's focusing on his fish-out-of-water status. He's self-conscious about failing Jamie as a captain, and I really feel for him there. Also, I liked Roger and Claire's scene. They have a more natural chemistry as scene partners than he has with Brianna, and I think that's because Caitriona Balfe is a stronger actress. He compares his situation with Jemmy's unclear paternity, to Claire's decision to hide the truth of Brianna's parentage from her, and I thought that was really interesting, and made for a much better exploration of the situation than we got between Brianna and Roger.

Once again we're seeing how Murtagh continuing to exist in this timeline is changing things for Jamie. I really do go back and forth on whether I like his continued presence, but this week it really worked. Jamie's loyalty, and his decision about when to create a clear line in the sand, is one of the driving forces of this whole story-line. And having Murtagh there, having him be the specific source of Knox's search, adds a personal stake here that I think was definitely missing from the book. I like how in the book, Jamie is basically just trying to play the middle and wait for the right moment to declare himself a rebel, to ensure that he and his family end up on the winning side. It's interesting to watch him navigate that aspect of it. But here, his principles are more directly tangled up in things. His loyalty to Murtagh obviously outweighs his coerced loyalty to the crown!

I also like how Knox seems to really admire Jamie and feel a real sense of kinship with him. Jamie is more reserved, saying what he thinks Knox wants to hear, but I also think Jamie is somewhat genuinely moved by Knox's admiration for him. It was obviously pretty brutal watching Jamie kill him, especially after Knox's horrified realization of Jamie's relationship to Murtagh. Knox isn't a character I necessarily sympathize with, but it was hard not to wince when I saw his life come to end. For Jamie's sake, if nothing else.

So, with evidence of Jamie's true allegiance burned, and Knox dead, Jamie returns to the Ridge with a new friend for Claire - a tiny fuzzy kitten named Adso! This is a different way for the cat to make his entrance than what happens in the books, but hey. I'm still thrilled to see him!

At the end of the day, I'm not sure how to grade this episode. There were things about it I truly enjoyed, but others that frustrated me. We are five episodes in now, and these seasons aren't exactly very long. How am I going to feel about the shape of season five as a whole, when all is said and done? That remains to be seen!

7/10

#review #outlander #outlander review

[anoutlandishfanfic]

Idyllwild AU: The One With Faith’s Story

The premise of Idyllwild? FLUFF! PURE. UNADULTERATED. FLUFF.

As some of you may know, I’m a nanny by day and the MamaBear I work with is pregnant and close to term {{Edit: LittleBrother was born today! 5/10/19; 8lbs 10oz, 12in}} and the result is a feels fest in all things regarding the Fraser bairns. This chapter started out as a straight-up birth story, but it didn’t quite work with the Idyllwild feel and a sort of bedtime story was what I wound up with. Hugs to @thatsoccercoach for rocking the last minute beta.

Each chapter is meant to be stand alone, but you can find more over here on the master list. The only thing you need to know is that Faith will be six years old in a matter of days and Claire and Jamie have just had their fifth bairn (Counting Fergus. Can’t forget Gus!) a few months back… you can find that adventure here. Another fun take on a birth story.

It also worked out that Faith’s birthday in Idyllwild canon is May 12th, which is Mother’s Day this year! So, its a two fer one! Enjoy!

Bedtime, the Ninth of May, 2016; Lallybroch.

“Da, tell me ‘bout my birthday.”

“How ‘bout the story of the three wee piggies, instead?” I sighed wearily, though smiling as I pulled Faith’s covers up around her ears, just as she liked them.

“No, Da! I wanna hear my story!”

“Oh, aye?” I rose a brow at this insistence. “Aren’t you tired of it yet?”

Faith was absolutely besotted with her baby sister, Quinn, who had the entire household at her beck and call. The day Quinn arrived into the world just four short months ago had left quite an impression on Faith and she naturally assumed that all birthdays had stories such as her sister’s.

In that she wasn’t much mistaken, for my firstborn had made quite the entrance herself. The story of the day she was born was Faith’s favorite of late and I’d lost count of how many times I’d spun a happy, sentimental tale out of what was possibly the most terrifying day of my life.

Faith giggled, the tip of her nose emerging for just a moment as she pleaded, “Le do thoil, Da?”

I grinned as I caved in, powerless to say no.

“Aye, mo bheag gradh,” my heart clenched as I saw her not as the healthy, vibrant, headstrong kindergartener before me, but as she had been the first time I lay eyes on her… a tiny, helpless preemie in her isolette in the neonatal intensive care unit with a solid, plate glass window separating us.

I reached out my hand, desperate to replace the memory of the feeling of cold glass against the tips of my fingers with that of Faith’s tousled curls. She turned her cheek into my palm as I tucked a wisp behind her ear and her dark lashes brushed against me like the fragile wings of a butterfly. My stomach clenched at the heady rush of emotions surging through me, making me marvel at the utter miracle before me.

“How’s it start, then?”

It was a stalling tactic and I knew she’d see right through it, but I found it difficult to speak around the lump that had suddenly formed at the back of my throat.

“You know, Da!”

Her deft fingers grabbed a hold of mine, lifting them off her face in order to burrow herself deeper beneath the covers, her voice now muffled as she prompted, “Once a’pon’a time…”

The lilt of her speech slowed as she made herself cozy, her words jumbling together into an only semicoherant blob.

Oh, how she could steal the very breath from my lungs.

“Once upon a time,” I echoed, finding my smile again as I settled myself more comfortably against the headboard of the bed, “Mummy was working at the hospital with Auntie Geillis.”

“But Auntie wanted Mummy to go home an’ take a nap!” Faith cheerfully interrupted.

Pausing, I gave her a look. Her blue eyes sparkled, even amid the shadows, and I chuckled to myself as I reached out to tickle her neck.

“Are you tellin’ the story or am I, mo bheag leannan ruadh?”

“You, Da! Keep goin’!” she shrieked with laughter.

With that, we both settled back down and my thoughts turned inwards as I retreated into the past.

I remembered the way Claire looked as Faith grew within her, the special, contemplative gleam in my wife’s eyes as the swell of our firstborn became more than obvious beneath her scrubs. I heard her parting see you later, luv as she left for work that morning. She’d been pale and I could tell something was off. I should have pressed her about it, should have had her stay home and keep off her feet.

But if she hadn’t been at work, if she hadn’t had immediate and professional medical attention… would she still be with us today?

Would either of them be?

Shaking my head to banish the thought, I continued, “Mummy was tired and had a wee bit of a headache, but she wanted to stay and keep an eye on a patient who wasn’t feeling very good.”

Faith’s brow furrowed and her gaze turned thoughtful.

“Mummy takes verra good care of her patients, doesn’t she, Da?”

Sometimes at her own expense, lovie.

“Aye, tha’ she does,” I agreed instead. “So, Mummy agreed to work at her desk an’ Auntie would keep checking in on her.”

Claire’s patient had been in and out of her operating theater all week. It’d been a tough case, requiring her utmost attention, and even though our home was certainly within on-call distance, she’d wanted to remain in the building. Yet, even remaining seated with adequate hydration on hand, Claire’s headache worsened and she began to feel dizzy.

“But by lunchtime, Auntie said Mummy needed to come lie down on the wee bed at the end of the hallway.”

“An’ then Mummy called you an’ told you come an’ help her feels better?”

A dhia, that phone call took ten years off my life.

Jamie, I need you. How soon can you be here?

“She did,” I swallowed hard, “and I came and saw her in that wee room a’ the end of the hall.”

Her blood pressure had skyrocketed by the time I arrived and she was surrounded by no less than three doctors who were accompanied by at least ten nurses and a considerable crowd had even begun to form outside her door. It felt like the entire doctoral staff of the hospital was attending to Claire and I went into protective overdrive as Geillis ushered me to my wife’s side.

Caring not for hurt feelings and bruised egos, I’d shoved my way through and nearly climbed onto the narrow hospital bed beside my wife, taking her into my arms as much as was possible. She’d clung to me weakly, trembling against my chest as everyone tried to update me on her condition at once. I ended up ordering all of them out, save Geillis, and they begrudgingly moved to the hallway as she patiently explained to me what was going on.

Skipping all of that, I continued, “When I got there, Auntie told me today was the day you were going to be born.”

“Were you excited?”

Scared as hell, more like.

Lifting my shoulder in a half shrug, I tried to explain, “I was, but I was a little bit nervous because it wasn’t quite time for you to be born yet.”

“I was early,” she profoundly stated.

Faith had always known she was a preemie and found a great deal of pride in routinely shocking her doctors with her health, stamina, and growth. She’d been back to wow the nurses who had become family during our stay at Regions several times and, at the moment, she wanted to grow up to be just like them… so she could help her Mum at the hospital.

“You were thirty five days early, to be exact.”

Her eyes widened, “That’s a lot of days.”

“It was, and that’s why Mummy needed to go see Dr. Joe right away.”

Joe Abernathy had been Claire’s closest friend in medical school and they’d completed their residency together at Regions, where he’d stayed after graduation. He’d been a groomsman at our wedding and was a dear friend of the family, as well as being responsible for saving the lives of both my wife and child.

“Inna helicopter!” Faith wiggled with excitement as this was one of her favorite parts of the story.

I somehow found a genuine smile, seeing it as the grand adventure that she did, if for only a moment.

“Aye, Mummy got to ride in a helicopter.”

“Did you get to ride too, da?”

I’d certainly tried to.

After refusing to leave my wife’s side, my uncle Dougal MacKenzie had to physically restrain me as they loaded Claire into the LifeLink chopper.

“No,” I shook my head, forcing my smile to stay in place. “There wasn’t room for me to go with her, so Uncle Dougal took me in his squad car, instead.”

Idyllwild’s Chief of Police, Dougal MacKenzie, had been called in to ensure things went smoothly as our small community rarely had such an urgent medical emergency. I’d been thankful for his clear thinking in the moment and how he’d taken over all communication responsibilities. He’d gotten a hold of my brother Willie — who lived in Minneapolis and met us at the hospital — almost immediately, ensuring I wasn’t alone when he had to return to Idyllwild.  

“Did you get to go really really fast?”

“Aye, he turned on the lights and the sirens and we went as fast as we could.”

I remembered very little of that trip, nearly distraught and barely able to stay in my seat as Dougal navigated the highway system. We arrived after Claire did, obviously, and it had taken some time to find the proper lobby to wait in and even longer to get an update on my wife’s condition.

“Dr. Joe was taking good care of Mummy when I got there so I couldn’t see her right away, but I waited right where they told me and prayed for the both of you,” I continued hesitantly, finding the next parts of the story the hardest to sugar coat. My voice deepened, almost becoming hoarse as I skipped ahead.

“But then they brought me to come meet you for the very first time!”

Faith grinned, pushing herself up on her pillows in order to see me better as she asked, “Was I teeny tiny?”

The tiniest, my love.

Having been born at just over five pounds, Faith was easily the smallest baby I’d ever seen — let alone held — but she was, in actuality, one of the larger NICU residents. There’d an itty bitty preemie named Ben who was there when she arrived and remained when we left, giving us more of a point of reference and much to be thankful for. Another wee bairn named Zoe was in between Ben and Faith, size wise, and arrived towards the end of our stay, as well.

I reached out with a smile and wiggled Faith’s almost constant companion: a stuffed lamb named Tally. Claire’s uncle Quentin Lambert had given it to her, one of her first gifts at the hospital, and it appeared in all of her monthly, milestone photographs. I’d found infinite amusement in the pun, something that Uncle Lamb admitted he hadn’t realized until he was purchasing the beloved toy, and it was certainly a high point of Faith’s story.

“You were no bigger than your wee lambie,” I demonstrated.

“Tally was bigger than me?!”

“A bit, aye, she was.”

Faith took a moment to delight in this before asking for more specifics.

“When did you get to hold me?”

My stomach clenched, remembering just how long the excruciating wait with Willie and later Jenny in that dour lobby had been. I knew they’d ushered me back to meet Faith as soon as they could, but my daughter was a full hour old before I was able to see her through a window and another thirty minutes older before I got to actually hold her for the first time.

“Well, I had to wait a wee bit while they made sure you were healthy and strong before I could hold you,” I explained.  

“An’ I was!”

“Aye, mo beannachd, you were.”

She’d needed to be on oxygen for her first few days in the NICU, but her tiny body quickly rallied and she no longer needed the extra assistance long before was expected.

“And then you named me Faith!”

Claire and I knew were having a girl and had time to discuss names for quite a while before Faith’s premature birth. We’d tossed many around and even settled on a few favorites, but hadn’t really made a definitive choice. Claire had championed the name Faith almost from the get go, but I’d been more partial to having it be one of her middle names, as was Scottish tradition. I’d wanted to name her Elizabeth, taking her mother’s middle name, but Claire protested that it was far too formal and that she’d never cared for her Aunt Elizabeth, anyway.

Jenny had gone to great lengths to track down the hospital chaplain after I left to be with Faith and he joined me after I’d been with her for about two hours. He was, quite literally, a godsend and was able to keep me company for another three. He offered to baptize her and I eagerly accepted, grabbing my siblings from the lobby to stand as godparents on short notice.

“Aye, Father Anselm came and baptized you.”

“Faith Elizabeth Jane Beauchamp Fraser!” She giggled, for her full name and those of her siblings were of great amusement to her of late.

“Auntie Jenny thought it was fitting that you had a name as big as your courageous spirit.”

“Unca Willie too?”

“Aye,” I remembered the look of complete awe as he looked down at his niece. “He thought your name was perfect too.”

This clarified, Faith was ready to move on.

“An’ then you got to see Mummy?”

“I did!” I agreed, eagerly obliging to her desire to keep moving on. “Dr. Joe came and told me that Mummy was resting and I could go to her room and see her.”

I would never forget the feeling of relief that washed over me as I looked up to find Joe at the door of the NICU, his face communicating that the worst was over without so much as opening his mouth. He did open his mouth, though, and quickly got me up to speed, ushering me through the twists and turns of Region’s unknown hallways to my wife’s bedside.

Faith cheered, “An’ Mummy wanted to see me!”

This was the understatement of the century.

Claire’s body didn’t handle coming out of anesthesia well under usual circumstances and the emotional trauma she’d experienced prior to going under meant she was absolutely distraught when she woke. I could hear her calling for me and asking for her baby as we got closer and I broke into a dead run from the end of the hallway, nearly lifting her off the bed entirely and into my lap in my effort to calm her fears.

She’s okay, mo nighean donn. She’s safe, she’s strong.

“Aye, she did,” I managed a smile. “Mommy got to meet you a little bit later, but I told her all about you and that you were strong and—“

“Stubborn!”

My smile turned genuine in an instant and both of us shared a grin at this, for — despite her caring and sometimes shy disposition — my first born was as immovable as the Rock of Gibraltar when she wished to be. This attribute most often manifested itself as definite opinions and a habit of voicing them as loud as her little lungs could manage.

“I told her how you didn’t like the wee tubes across your toes and how you would fuss until things were just right.”

“An’ then Mummy got to hold me!”

I found Faith’s hand, squeezing it tightly as I remembered the look of complete joy and reverent awe on my wife’s face.

“Mummy loved you so much that they found a way for her to be with you while you both got better.”

It had taken some finagling and bending of protocols, but Joe managed to get Claire reunited with Faith within twenty-four hours of her birth. It happened in the middle of the night and he’d dubbed the plan Operation Mother Goose. Mother and daughter were able to bond skin to skin, giving both a tangible peace that hadn’t been there before. Parting again had been rough, but Joe had assured Claire that he also had a plan for how they could continue to see each other, though both mother and daughter were of fragile health.

“They made her a special spot! Just for Mummy!”

“Aye, just for Mummy.”

In one corner of the NICU — a ward surprisingly large in contrast to its tiny patrons — the nurses prepared a space where Claire could visit our daughter and still follow her doctor’s recovery instructions. Many of the nurses knew Claire from her time there before our marriage, though she hadn’t been in pediatrics, and they were eager to bend over backwards to facilitate these visits.

The space changed as Claire’s needs did, as regained health and movement, and she was eventually discharged from Regions five days before Faith was. She joined me in the spare room of my brother and sister in law’s home, going back and forth to the hospital together.

“But then the day came when you were ready to come home!”

It could have easily felt as though I were walking on air as we left the hospital together, had the weight of the car seat in my hands firmly tethered me to the ground and reality. I must have checked all the bolts and snaps and straps four times before I climbed into the driver’s seat, leaving Claire positioned beside the car seat in the back. It was over an hour car ride wasn’t ideal for Faith’s first and we ended up making quite a few pit stops to soothe her before we finally reached Idyllwild.

“I drove sooo slow — all the way home — because I had my most precious lassies wi’ me.”

“An’ then Gus showed me my room!”

“He did!” I grinned, relieved to finally be nearing the end of our tale. “Gus was so excited to have you home!”

Fergus had stayed with Jenny and Ian while Faith was at Regions, something he insisted on so that we could stay with his doux petit colibri. He came to visit as often as he could, but hospitals — especially intensive care units — aren’t very conducive to active ten year olds boys and, being as sensitive as he was, he didn’t like feeling in the way.

But he, along with my parents, was there to greet us as we arrived home… our family of four finally gathered together in Faith’s nursery for the very first time. There was a low sofa along one wall and we’d all piled onto it, limbs entangled as we watched Faith coo. After the spell had lifted, Fergus insisted on taking Faith on a tour of the entire house, leading me by the hand from room to room as I held her so that she would know exactly where she was and just how very much she was loved.

“An’ then I growed up an’ up an’ Mummy had Bree an’ Jakey an’ Quinn an’ we all lived happily ever after!” Faith pronounced with a great deal of satisfaction.  

“Aye, mo bheag nighean,” I kissed her brow, settling her back down beneath the covers. “That we did.”

…

About Five Minutes Later.

“She asleep?” Claire murmured from amidst the pillows, the downy head of our youngest bairn positioned comfortably at her breast.

I shed my shirt and climbed in beside them with a tired smile, “Aye, at last.”

Leaning towards her for a kiss, Claire eagerly turned her face to mine in response, greeting me with a warmth and affection that cleared away any residual vestiges of fear and regret that remained from dwelling on the past. She caught sight of them, though, as they retreated back into the far recesses of my mind and concern gathered in her eyes as she studied my face.

I shook my head, reassuringly, “She wanted to hear her story again.”

“Her story?”

“Of the day she was born.”

“Really?” she lifted one brow in amused question, shifting Quinn and offering her to me. I gladly took her, nestling her on my shoulder in order to burp her… something she didn’t particularly like.

“Oh, aye,” I dipped my chin and cooed in her ear for a moment, then explained, “Faith’s asked for it several times since Quinn was born.”

Understanding dawned and Claire grinned as she began to settle herself for bed, rearranging the bodice of her nightgown and the pillows around us, “What do you tell her?”

“About how you got to ride in a helicopter an’ how Joe took such good care of the both of you,” I shrugged, feeling a tad self conscious, wondering if she’d find the whole thing absurd or not a wise choice in regards to our daughter’s sensitive heart.

Her hand lifted to my arm, her palm brushing across my skin before settling just below my shoulder. The tops of Claire’s knuckles nudged our bairn’s leg as she did so, eliciting a wee sigh of contentment — for Quinn now returned the borrowed air from her wee tummy, thankfully without deposit — from her as she buried her face in my neck. Claire squeezed my arm reassuringly and I reached for her, covering her hand with my own.

The sensation of both my wife and child against my skin made me grow more and more sentimental with every heartbeat, loosening my tongue and bringing me to an idyllic place where everything that had gone wrong in the past was now completely right.

“I tell her about the special place the nurses set up for you… about how she got her name, when we brought her home.”

Claire’s lips brushed across the top of my hand before placing a tender kiss on my bare shoulder… the one she’d mended the day we met.

“Mmm, just the happy bits, then,” she intoned, the soft vibration of her voice sending a thrill down my spine.

My soul smiled as lifting my hand to her face, tipping her chin up for a real kiss as I affirmed, “Oh, aye… all of the happy bits.”

My fingers slid along her jaw and settled amidst the curls at the nape of her neck as I pulled her closer. I felt a laugh bubble up within her as she ever so slightly acquiesced, shifting ever so slightly to make things more comfortable, but remaining just far enough away as to leave me in want…

“Is she asleep, then?” I asked of our daughter, eager to have both of my hands free to wander the length of my wife.

Claire grinned, a knowing gleam in her eye as she nodded, gently nudging me towards the edge of her bed with her knee.

“Haste ye back,” she teased.

I thanked my lucky stars that Quinn cared little about where or how she slept — provided, of course, she had a full belly — and she didn’t so much as stir when I quickly deposited in her crib. Retracing my steps record time, I was beside my wife again a moment later, finally able to take her into my arms.

Claire melted against me with a contented sigh, much like the one our youngest had produced not long ago. My heart let out a sigh of its own as I found her lips once more and we sank deeper into each other’s embrace.

My fingers dipped beneath the supple, cotton folds that consisted of my wife’s favorite sleeping gown, delighting in the very feature that enabled her to nurse with ease at a moment’s notice. The material fell away at my touch and I crooned, “Have I told you how much I love seeing our bairns at your breast?”

Claire’s gaze softened, her eyes gleaming for a moment in the dim light.

“Not lately,” she murmured, looping her arms about my neck.

“Mmm,” I hummed, my lips against the tender skin of her neck, “I really must remedy that.”

#Outlander #outlander fanfic #idyllwild au #the one with faith's story

[everlarkficexchange]

In The End

Written by: @alliswell21

Prompt 76: historical au where katniss and peeta are betrothed since birth and peeta’s mom is actually nice. they grow up to be best friends neither of them knowing about the betrothal until something breaks their friendship and they become enemies. when they finally turn the right age, they find out about the betrothal and are forced to marry and consummate their marriage even if they despise each other. [submitted by anonymous]

  Tags/warnings: Rated Mature for Adult Situations and some description of injuries.

  Historical AU; Arranged Marriage; Friends to Enemies to Lovers; Canon Typical Violence; Anger and Hurt; Misunderstandings; As usual, a simple conversation would’ve fixed everything, but Nooo!; Angst; Smut; Nobody dies, so I guess that’s cool; this story away from me, word count sits at less than 20k… sorry; un-betaed, all mistakes are mine, and there will be a million of them because it was hastily edited. I apologize.

  Thank you @xerxia31 and @javistg for another great year of awesome prompts and fics. Thank you Anon for an awesome prompt! 

KPKPKPKPKPKPKPKP

  Mr and Mrs Everdeen huddle together in their horse drawn carriage, traveling home after a taxing day with family, at a Will reading. She holds their brand new baby girl to her chest, he wraps his arms protectively around both his wife and infant daughter.

  “Do you think we are doing the right thing?” Mrs Everdeen asks her husband tearfully. “It just feels so drastic.”

  “Oh my darling, think of it as ensuring a future for little Katniss. Both our families together, can cultivate a happy childhood for the children; provide a safe place for them to grow up loving each other; invest time and create good memories for them. They will be alright. Things will work out. We have to trust we’ll do everything in our power to make sure the will turn out to be well adjusted adults and live in harmony when time comes.”

  “You think we can do it?” She asks with hope in her voice, tightening her hold on her baby.

  “I really do, darling. Little Peeta and baby Katniss will have a wonderful childhood full of love, they will grow up together and their futures will be secure. We will make it happen!”

————-

  The first raindrop splashes Peeta’s cheek like a cool kiss from the clouds. Another one lands on Katniss’ arm startling her. Both children look quizzically up at the open blue sky; there isn’t a single sign of bad weather except for a very dark, single cloud drifting slowly towards them.

  A new handful of droplets fall on the kids’ shoulders, foreheads and chests. They look at each other in wonder, eyes wide open and smiles curling their lips. Before they can utter a word to one another, the one gray cloud breaks into a downpour directly above them, soaking them both to the bones in a matter of seconds.

  The children scream like seven year olds do when pelted by icy cold rain, and take off running hand in hand back to the house ahead of the meadow where the little friends have been playing in the tall grasses.

  Back in the house the little friends rush through the kitchen doors talking loudly and gasping for air after a all the running.

  “Children! I thought I sent you both to play outside. Don’t be making a ruckus now, baby Primrose is trying to nap.” Chastises Nanny Coin, a severe woman with icy gray eyes and matching hair in a bun.

  The woman never smiles, and despises when children laugh, so they never mind taking their play time outside, or better yet, to the Mellark home, where warm cookies always wait.

  “But it’s raining!” Katniss protests, “and I can hear Prim screaming from the nursery!”

  It’s true, little Primrose cries disconsolate upstairs in the bedrooms, and Katniss mama can’t keep her tired eyes open. The nanny isn’t nearly as soft as mama, so Prim cries on, louder and louder. Katniss worries her baby sister will hurt her throat or get a headache; Katniss’ head always hurt after crying too long.

  “What should we do?” she whispers to her best friend, Peeta.

  He always has solutions to her problems, and his ideas usually come quickly. But Peeta is the baby in his own family, so he doesn’t know how to help this time around.

  “You could sing.” He suggests shyly.

  He hasn’t shared his secret with anybody, but his little heart swells every time his best friends sings. He’s sworn to himself time and again once he’s big, he’ll marry her, so she sing him lullabies to sleep every night.

  Katniss purses her tiny, pink lips. “I can’t do that without Papa! Distract the nanny for me, will you? I have an idea!”

  “How?” Peeta groans trying to keep with her anyway.

  Her girly legs are longer and faster than his stubby ones, he doesn’t understand how’s it possible she’s taller and more athletic than him, he’s a whole six months older than her! He’s doughy around the belly, where she’s lithe and nimble. They look so much like opposites physically, she’s olive skinned with hair as dark as ink, and his fair with rosy cheeks, wavy blonde hair and blue eyes like a summer sky.

  Peeta takes after his mother, and Katniss takes after her father, yet, they share a single great great Grandfather on their mothers side. It’s confusing to them at times, because they should be cousins like their mothers, but their families insist they’re not.

  “I don’t know!” Katniss says annoyedly over her shoulder, smacking her friend’s arm with one of her twin long braids. “Draw something funny on the wall or something. That’ll drive Nanny Coin crazy!”

  Peeta balks at the preposterous idea, but follows suit without a hesitation once in front of the nursery door. Katniss slips inside the room where the wailing baby lays in her crib, while the nanny rebukes little Peeta for being naughty with that charcoal knob of his. He places his hand on the woman’s apron, leaving behind a perfectly imprint of his hand in sooty dark. Nanny Coin screeches, and a crazy chase ensues while the woman demands Peeta stays still for a good spanking.

  Katniss peeks out the door biting her lip guiltily, she didn’t want her friend to get in trouble, but the stain on the apron was completely intentional by the way his blue eyes sparked in her direction right before he did it. Katniss hurries to her sister, a small bundle of fully functional lungs that keeps turning purple in the face the longer she screams.

  “Hush, Little Duck, big sister’s here! Do you want to hear a story? This one is from papa, he’s the best storyteller ever, but he now works in an office now, it’s safer than working in the mines where the sun don’t shine, but it’s hard work and someone who cares for the miners had to do it, or at least that’s what he tells everyone… anywho… have you heard about the Mockingjays?”

  Prim doesn’t stop crying, so Katniss picks her up from the firm crib and loosens the blankets the infant is swaddled in. Prim’s eyes open a fraction to look up, then she calms fractionally, listening close.

  “Mockingjays are little songbirds, their plumage is black as night, with specks of white in the under wing. They’ve a crest they get from their father, the Jabberjay. He’s just a chattering one, always repeating what he hears others talk about, he’s a big gossip if you ask me. Mama always says that gossiping is not polite, so you and I shan’t do it, but it’s alright for jabberjays. The singing voice of the mockingjays comes from their mommy, the always delightful Mockingbird…”

  Katniss keeps taking in a soothing voice, bouncing the babe in her arms as she walks in a wide loop around the room, while unbeknownst to her, her papa who arrived home just in time to save little Peeta from a spanking, looks on from the door, with a warm, hand on Peeta’s chubby shoulder. The little boy thinks it again, watching his friend cooing to the baby, he’s going to grow up to marry Katniss Everdeen, then she’ll tell him bedtime stories lovingly!

  ——————

  “But why can’t I go sit with Peeta during his lessons?” Katniss asks grumpily at her mother. “It’s the same tutor anyway!”

  “Because you’re starting your own classes, darling.” Says Mama bouncing little Primrose on her lap while Katniss gets fitted for her brand new dress, a gift from Papa, for the first day with her tutor at home. “You’re curriculum is different than Peeta’s; Professor Abernathy has created a schedule fitting for a lady, just for you.”

  Katniss doesn’t understand why suddenly she needs private schooling. She was doing great at the public schoolhouse. Sure, it was a single class for all the children of town regardless of age, but Katniss loved it there and her teacher, Miss Lavinia. No matter how hectic school was, the young teacher managed to carve one o one time with each of her students at least for a few minutes daily.

  Katniss doesn’t think it’s fair she has be schooled at home on her own while all her friends from the schoolhouse had fun in class— except for Peeta of course. Peeta had never gone to the schoolhouse. His family l, the Mellarks, are bakers and the wealthiest people in town. They could afford private tutors for all three of their sons.

  Peeta always complains of how lonely and boring it is at home without classmates. His siblings are there, but they never chat during lulls in class. It wasn’t that he didn’t socialize with peers from town, Peeta’s the friendliest, most talkative boy Katniss ever known, but he envies Katniss for spending time independently from everyone, he thinks the little girl is very brave in that regard, and that makes Katniss very proud of herself.

  A few times a week Mrs. Mellark, Peeta’s mother, kindly invites Katniss to sit in Peeta’s piano lessons or in his art class— art is Peeta’s favorite subject by far— But lately, they’ve started teaching him more applied subjects like algebra, social sciences, statistics, and economics, and his tutor has insinuated more than once, that having the two children together in the class is a distraction to both.

  Katniss is ten now, Mama and Papa decided it’s time to start getting a more dedicated education for her future standing. They hired Ms. Trinket as governess, and Ms. Trinket convinced Profesor Abernathy to tutor both children two days a week.

  Professor Abernathy’s an eccentric drunk, with the highest credentials in the country. Mrs. Mellark was very impressed with the man, and profusely thanked the Everdeens for putting so much effort into Katniss’ education when she learned they hired his services as well.

  Katniss is puzzled about the exchange between her parents and Peeta’s mother, but the boy only shrugs noncommittal when his little friend muses about it.

  “Why would your folks care about my education?” Ponders Katniss staring at her friend who’s absorbed into his drawings. “It doesn’t add up!” Exclaims Katniss pursing her lips and crossing her arms over her chest. “What do you reckon, Peeta?”

  The boy says nothing.

  “Peeta,” Katniss insists, but when she gets the same answer, she stands from her plush chair and stomps unladylike to shake her friend’s shoulder. “Pee-ta!” Katniss pulls too harshly on her friend’s arm, causing him to scratch up his sketch.

  “Hey! What gives?” He cries in aggravation. “Why did you do that for?” He asks turning pink in the face.

  But Katniss barely hears him. She’s enthralled, staring at Peeta’s leather bound book, where the most vivid images are plastered page over page. She picks up the book and starts leafing through it.

  “You made all this?” She asks in awe, staring with wide eyes at the different portraits in the pages. There’s little Prim with her pet goat, Lady; there’s also Professor Abernathy, with a better groomed head of hair than she remembers while the rest of him looks as dull as ever. Then there’s the town’s church and the graveyard next to it. And then, there’s her… all over the book. In different stages of completion.

  Drawings of her braid, or her eyes; drawings of her scowling with her arms crossed on her chest petulantly; drawings of her smiling at Prim; there’s one where she’s wagging her finger menacingly at a raccoon that had tried to pull Peeta’s wavy hair one day from a low branch. The raccoon looks terrified of the little miss.

  Peeta tears the book out of Katniss hands and shoves it behind his back quickly. His cheeks are blotchy red with embarrassment.

  “That’s private!” He tells his friend mortified and upset.

  Katniss scowls, but after a moment, hangs her head contritely. “I’m sorry for looking without asking, Peeta.” She looks up at him then. “But the pictures where too pretty not to. I should have asked you first. I won’t do it again.”

  Peeta stares at her deflated form for a second, then his extended pinkie finger materializes under her nose.

  “I’ll show you my book, if you ask the next time you want to see my drawings, Pinkie promise?”

  Katniss smiles at her best friend and links her pinkie with his. “Pinkie promise!”

  “You wanna spit on it to make it unbreakable?”

  “Eww! No. We are not eight anymore. Spitting is for children, Peeta.”

  —————-

  Prim falls in the meadow behind the Everdeen home and scraps her knees while trying to catch up with Katniss and Peeta, as they run around flying Peeta’s new kite.

  Prim is sniffling pitifully, “Tell me the story of the mo-ingjay and the Winnow…”

  “The Mockingjay and the Willow, again?” Asks Katniss making a face.

  “Katniss, remember you said you wanted to help. Telling your sister a story while I clean her knees is the best way you can help me right now.” Says mama kindly, but not giving much room for protests.

  “Very well,” Katniss sighs, “So there once was a sad willow tree in the middle of a field—“

  “An island!” Prim protests crossing her arms brattily. “Last time you said it was an island. Start it over!”

  “Ugh!” Katniss groans, “How am I supposed to remember every single detail of this tale?”

  Peeta taps his friend’s shoulder, lifting a small hardcover book he carries around to doodle on. “I can write it down while you are both here to keep all the details faithful to Prim’s memory.”

  Katniss grins at her best friend. He sets to write down the story, word by word, and once he’s alone in his room before bed at home, he pulls the book out one more time and starts drawing drafts of a small crested bird hopping along the limbs of a willow tree. He works on the sketches until sleep pulls him under.

  —————

  “Animi est plus fortis quam musculus.”

  “Ugh… that was pitiful, Sweetheart. Concentrate and read it again, without wiggling your tongue in your mouth so much.”

  Katniss glares at her tutor from behind the lectern he insists she uses when reciting her Latin, reading poetry or simply asking questions.

  “Animi est plus fortis quam musculus.” She repeats twisting her tongue extra sharply, just to be contrary.

  “Better!” Calls Professor Abernathy checking his golden pocket watch. “Alright, now, what does that phrase mean, Miss Everdeen? And do hurry up with that answer, we only have five more minutes before that wench comes to fetch me.”

  Abernathy and Ms. Trinket hated each other the moment they met for Katniss’ first class. Watch them interact was the most entertaining thing Katniss had ever seen two adults do.

  The girl muses for a moment, scratching the back of her leg with the toe of her shoe, just because she knows Ms. Trinket would be horrified by the act.

  “The mind is stronger than the muscle?”

  “Mightier, but yes. You got it right, Sweetheart! The mind is mightier than the muscle.” Says Abernathy giving his pupil a rare smile that makes the muscles in his face ache from disuse. “Never forget it, Sweetheart, and you’ll be better off than many.”

  The professor was about to give his student a list of things to do to prepare for the their next lesson in two days time, but as clockwork, Ms. Trinket knocks on the door, and lets herself in without invitation just to announce it’s time for Katniss to join her mother in the drawing room for sewing.

  Katniss suppresses a groan. At least during tutoring hours she gets to speak her mind to some extent. Abernathy wants her to think for herself, and told her father he was going to teach her Latin, poetry, Greek and Roman mythology, and math, like he taught her male peers. But she was still a girl, and society dictates she needs training in a preconceived set of skills such as sewing, knitting, and hosting.

  Katniss follows Ms.Trinket almost dragging her feet on the carpet. They pass the drawing room without entering, which puzzles Katniss greatly.

  “Ms. Trinket, please, was I not supposed to go into the drawing room to sit with my mother?”

  “You will, after you change into a fresh outfit. You have visitors today, I’m afraid.” Ms. Trinket informs her charge.

  “Who’s visiting?” Katniss asks eagerly.

  “Miss Everdeen, mind your manners. It is not very polite to badger someone with questions while they’re in the middle of relaying information to you, child.” Chides Ms. Trinket.

  Not until Katniss gives a very winded apology, does Ms.Trinket finish telling her that she’s to have tea in the parlor with Mrs. Mellark and her youngest son, Master Peeta.

  Katniss smile could split her face in half. She tries to hide the spring in her step the same way she hid her slouch earlier. Ms. Trinket is not very into demonstrations of emotions, and everything has to be so measured it’s a chore on itself. Professor Abernathy often says that Ms. Trinket sucks the joy out of life. He may be onto something.

  Nevertheless, Katniss doesn’t argue when she’s put in the puffiest dress in her wardrobe, with three petticoats and the scratchiest stockings she’s ever worn. Ms. Trinket laments there’s no time to do anything new with Katniss’ hair, which makes Katniss scowl. She likes her braids. Peeta told her once he loves drawing them for whatever reason; she assumes that means he likes her braids too, so there’s no reason to change them.

  During tea, Peeta and Katniss are made to sit still, in opposite chairs from one another, with a tea table laden with finger foods between them. Is the boriest play date yet, but they can speak with their eyes, and Peeta’s facial expressions keeps threatening to make Katniss snort tea through her nose.

  “Peeta, Katniss, you both will be thirteen this year, and it will be highly inappropriate for you two to be alone, together, in a room.” Says mama Everdeen after some inane conversation.

  “Why would it be inappropriate? Are we not allowed to play in the meadow either?” Asks Katniss with wide eyes.

  Peeta looks equally troubled.

  “You are just not children anymore, and things need to change just a little. You will still see each other often, only in other settings.” Explains Mrs. Mellark kindly.

  “Peeta will come for tea with Katniss twice a week, and either Ms. Trinket or Professor Abernathy will sit with you both while you have an amiable conversation.” Says Mama glancing periodically at Mrs Mellark for support.

  “Also, I’m afraid that for now on, there won’t be any touching, or sharing a sofa. You two may walk around the gardens with your chaperones, and as for games you can play checkers, cards or chess.”

  Katniss groans before she can stop herself. Ignoring her mother’s glare she complains, “But Peeta always wins chess and checkers!”

  “And the gardens aren’t fun if you can’t explore it without worrying about staying clean, so, do we have to dress so stuffy all the time now as well?” Peeta asks frowning.

  “There will be no silly, childish games. why you two are old enough to converse on literature you’ve read or even read aloud to each other. It’s time you started doing more mature things, you know.” Says Mrs. Mellark drinking from her teacup.

  Peeta raises his hand half way. “Why grow up when we can be out in the meadow flying kites, or sunbathing, or even better, doing things we actually enjoy, like sitting on the grass barefooted or chasing frogs in the creek?”

  “Peeta, dear, your mother just explained you are not a children anymore. It’s time you both learn how to act like proper teens in society.” Says Mama Everdeen stoically. “You both have grown beautifully, and it’s time to leave childhood behind for the grown up version of yourself we’ve strived to reach.”

  Neither Katniss nor Peeta quite understand this concept, but they still enjoy spending time with each other and figure is best to not to argue and let the mother get their way for now.

  As predictable as it is, the youngsters favorite chaperone is Professor Abernathy. They get to sit on the Persian rug on the floor next to each other and leaf through books together; usually Peeta shows his sketches and doodles, and Katniss thinks up different scenarios for him to draw.

  One day, Professor Abernathy yawns, glaring at the children holding up their stomachs and covering their mouths with charcoal stained fingers, while a peel of laughter wakes him up from a nap.

  “If you two want me to keep pretending I’m supervising this silly little dates, you have to do something constructive with your time to show for. I can say I’m teaching you urchins something valuable, and you too would be able to spend time without the governess from hades poking her head in the door every five minutes.”

  “We do not know how to pretend we are working on a project, Professor.” States Peeta slowly, fishing for ideas almost.

  Professor Abernathy grunts, massaging the bridge of his nose. “Alright. What is it that you two do when you crowd over that book of yours?” Asks the man tiredly. His eyes urging them to think, use their brains if they had one.

  “We make stories that Katniss writes down,” Says Peeta.

  “Then Peeta illustrate them for me.” Katniss adds, her mind already working on an idea.

  “Well, can you find something educational you can substitute for the stories?” Offers the professor.

  Peeta nods his head in understanding, a slow smile forming in his lips. “Like a scientific journal?”

  “I think I have the perfect thing to work on!” Says Katniss delighted, “Why it will require us to spend a great deal of time outside!” She claps.

  Both teenagers brainstorm ideas on their new project, settling for Katniss idea of a book about plants. Her Papa knows all about edible plants, and her mother knows about medicinal ones, but nobody has ever thought of putting the knowledge into paper for later generations. There’s a variety of plants in the Everdeen’s garden— both edible and medicinal— so all Katniss and Peeta need to do is take a stroll outside and look at greenery. Even Primrose is welcome to join.

  The friends set out to work on their book; Peeta draws the plants with painstaking details, splurging in colorful pastels, more expensive than his usual charcoals; then Katniss writes in careful cursive the name, physical descriptions and a small explanation about the specific plant, next to Peeta’s drawing. They seal the finished pages with salt water.

  Mister Everdeen walks into the parlor one day while the two friends are working on their book. He sees the vivid picture of a dandelion both in seed and in bloom. The drawing is so detailed he can see each individual petal of the sun ray yellow crown, and each feathered-like seed pod. The leafy part is so lifelike, Mister Everdeen makes a double take to confirm it is indeed colored into the page and not pasted there. The roots in the drawing even have a few clumps of dirt falling from the base where the plant was supposed to be buried in the ground.

  “Say, Children, may I take a look at your book?” Papa Everdeen asks over Katniss and Peeta’s shoulders.

  The two friends stare at each other stunned for a quick moment, but Peeta finally hands over the book open to the page he’s currently sketching.

  “This is remarkable work, children. What’s the title?” Katniss’ Papa asks leafing through the book with a smile of wonder on his face.

  “Title, Papa?” Asks Katniss cocking her head, so her single long braid hangs like a rope over her shoulder. Now that she’s thirteen, double braids seem too kiddie.

  “Well, every best seller book has a catchy name.” Says mister Everdeen giving his daughter a wink.

  Peeta’s lips purse sideways, “Maybe ‘a guide to herbs’?” He proposes.

  “Too stiff.” Counters the girl squinting. “Our tome is more like a… dictionary for plants.”

  “A herb dictionary? How clever.” Says Papa kindly.

  “A Herbonary?” Peeta jests, chuckling.

  “Very clever indeed, Peeta, m’boy!”

  “I like it too! The Herbonary it is!” Katniss beams at her best friend who promptly turns scarlet on the cheeks.

  Mister Everdeen notices the boy’s blush, and smiles fondly, turning away from him to not cause his embarrassment to deepen.

  “Have you consider selling copies for money? We could go with this to the printing press and make a nice nest egg for your future? I bet there’s a market for it, and you can come up with a pen name you can publish it under… how about P.K. Everlark?”

  The two teens exchange stunned stares.

  “We… have no intentions on selling our book, Mister Everdeen. This is merely a past time we concocted to be able to play outside when Miss Trinket chaperones us.” Peeta explains truthfully, but Katniss throws him a warning glare an a well aimed elbow to the ribs.

  Mister Everdeen laughs joyfully at the boy’s candidness and his daughter’s reaction. “Thank you for your honesty, son. And I promise I won’t let slip this information to the mothers or miss Trinket. Your secret is safe with me,” he winks at Katniss for good measure. “Now, I’ll let you both be,” he says glancing in Professor Abernathy’s direction with a smirk. “Don’t wake your professor, he looks like he needs the rest.” The man saunters out of the parlor still smirking.

  Peeta and Katniss giggle to one another.

  ———

“Pssst… Peeta! Over here!” Katniss hisses lowly as soon as her best friend walks past her hiding spot.

  “Katniss?” He calls quietly, looking left and right before taking a huge step sideways, as inconspicuous as a sixteen year old boy with his broad physique can move while hiding behind a heavy curtain. “What are you doing here? Your mother is about to hit the roof looking for you!” Peeta whispers, squinting in an effort to actually focus on his friend’s face, but it’s no use in the dim wrong side of the curtain.

  “Well, if she wanted me to be part of this party, she should’ve asked me what I wanted to do and who I wanted to do it with, before throwing this monstrosity of a celebration. Why she didn’t even listened to my choice in outfit!”

  Peeta smiles wryly. He can practically hear Katniss’ scowl. “Really?” He asks convinced she’s exaggerating. “Did she ban your riding trousers? Did she wrangled you out of a cotton green dress?”

  He tried not to snicker, because the cotton dress incident was still a point of contention between Katniss and her mother. Mrs. Everdeen was dismayed to learn her daughter wore an A line, button down, forest green cotton dress to a church cookout the previous summer. Katniss said the dress was comfortable for the stuffy heat, and her mother said it was plain and beneath her station, she went as far as telling her she was not to wear the cotton outfit outside the house, which Katniss tried to go around it a handful of times before grudgingly giving up the garment.

  Katniss groans. “It’s worse than anything I’ve ever worn! I’m swimming in a sea of salmon color taffeta. It’s so itchy and big, I feel like a walking, pink marshmallow.”

  “Come now, Katniss. It cannot be that bad. Did you really expected your folks not to throw you the biggest ball of the century for your Sweet Sixteen?” He cajols lowly.

  His head is so close to Katniss’ she can feel his breath— warm and dense— against her cheek. She’s momentarily speechless at the strange swoop in her stomach at his proximity, but she’s almost used to this occurrence by now. It keeps happening every time he’s close. It’s been like this for the last year or so. The only thing she can do is shake her head stubbornly.

  “Mother knows I’m no good at making friends or saying something in public. Why does she insist on this waste of time?” She whines.

  Peeta chuckles as quietly as he can. “It’s alright, Kitty.” He said, using a nickname he very seldom let escape him. “I’ll speak for the both of us, and I’ll make friends with everyone and then introduce you to them so you can win them over as well.”

  “Win them over? Are you as daft as my mother? I’m terrible at socializing, Peet!” She waves her arms, perturbing the curtain.

  “Hey! You’re going to betray our hiding place!” Peeta hisses.

  “Katniss? Are you in here?” Comes Prim’s muffled voice at the other side of the thick material.

  “Ugh! Come on, we’ve been found!” Katniss grouses, and grips Peeta’s wrist to pull him out of hiding, except it’s not his wrist her fingers wrap around with force.

  Peeta gasps painfully— in more than the obvious way— while Katniss wrenches her hand away from her friends mishandled crotch.

  “I’m so sorry!” She chokes out from behind her hand. “I’m so very sorry, Peeta, please forgive me!”

  “It’s alright, Kitty,” he coughs raggedly, right before Prim steps behind the curtain with them. “Having offspring is overrated anyway.” He gasps.

  “Oh!” She smacks his chest when he chuckles, “Stop! Here I am all worried about you…”

  “Why? What happened?” Prim inquires curiously, “Also, Mama is going to ground until you’re forty five if you don’t emerge from hiding right away.” The girl says brightly. “Peet, are you sweating?”

  But Katniss is already throwing the curtain aside and making sure she’s not manhandling anyone’s family jewels this time.

  As soon as Peeta emerges, Katniss gives him another apologetic glance.

  “What happened to you?” Prim asks again noticing just how awkward Peeta’s standing.

  “Fine. I’m fine.” He huffs.

  “You don’t sound very fine. I couldn’t look you up, in case you need medical assistance.”

  “It won’t be necessary, I just need a drink of fresh water and I’ll be right as day.”

  “If you’re sure…” Primrose shrugs, “Oh well, I’m going to taste the adorable french foods mama commissioned for the party! There’s so much chocolate! Ta-ta!” The young girl is gone as soon as she came, leaving Katniss glowering at her uncomfortable shoes.

  She hates the how they pinch her toes.

  Peeta on the other hand, is finally able to take a good look at his friend, and is left momentarily speechless at the sight.

  He gulps his saliva loudly enough it ensnares Katniss’ attention. She narrows her gray eyes at him.

  “Are you sure you’re right? You seem unwell.”

  “You’re… beautiful!” He finally breathes out. He can’t remember his best friend ever wearing makeup before today, and although is a very subtle layer of lipgloss and barely noticeable rouge, he can tell is there, and he can’t stop gawking.

  Katniss blushes. “Peeta, you’re staring.” She mumbles averting her eyes.

  The words snap him back to his senses, and he finally forces his eyes from her pretty face. “I’m sorry.” He mutters.

  Katniss sighs. “It’s alright. I know I look ridiculous. I mean—“

  “No! You’re not ridiculous at all! You’re… pretty. I mean, it’s different but… um… very nice.” He stutters rubbing the back of his neck nervously, his eyes twitching between her and the rest of the room.

  “Nice? Please! I’m a pink nightmare!”

  “Well… I can concur that salmon is not a hue I would chose personally, but if I squint really hard, the material looks more like orange, and you know how partial I am to orange.” Peeta tries to make his friend smile.

  “This is horrible, Peeta.” Katniss laments dramatically. “Can you hide me?”

  Peeta chuckles and throws one arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him for a hug. “I can try. How’s this?” He asks, his voice deep and low makes a shiver go down her back, and her tummy warms up.

  Katniss breathes Peeta’s manly scent deeply. “This is loads better.” She mumbles burying her face into his dinner jacket.

  Peeta wraps both arms protectively around his friend. They sway to the music coming from the parlor, where a string quartet plays soft, ambient tunes.

  “I made you cheese buns.” Peeta whispers quietly into her hair.

  Katniss squeezes him into her arms. “You’re the best! Thank you!”

  She lifts her head to kiss him gratefully on the cheek, but he lowers his face at the same time to tell her a funny anecdote about his brother’s attempt at stealing one of the buns. Her lips land halfway over his, and they freeze in place.

  Peeta’s blue eyes almost bulge out of the sockets. Katniss’ face burns in mortification, but after a fraction of a second staring at each other in complete and utter horror, they both move at the same time, to meet their lips in the middle.

  A voice in the distance breaks the spell. “Miss Everdeen, where are you now?”

  The two teens jump apart as soon as Miss Trinket’s voice reaches them.

  “Come on, Kitty, I slaved over half of those hors d'oeuvres. The least you can do is stuff your face full of them, and ruin your taffeta dress in the process.” Peeta says dragging Katniss away from the upcoming governess as fast as they can slip away.

  Katniss is breathless when they arrive to the canapés table— from the kisses and the haste in which they moved— her eyes are wide and her mouth is dry. She doesn’t move an inch away from Peeta. She can’t, even if she wanted to; she’s stuck to him by an invisible force, much like magnets.

  Everything would be alright if they hadn’t run straight into Peeta’s mother at the table, overseeing the waiters placing fresh plates of puff pastries, crackers with generous dollops of caviar and little foie gras mounds sprinkled with parsley on a bed of cherry tomatoes. Katniss’ stomach protests. What ever happened to sandwiches?

  There’s a table with soups on the other side of the room, she wishes they could head there now.

  “Oh, good. Peeta, you found Katniss!” Mrs. Mellark says glancing at the teens. “My, my! You look lovely tonight dear! Happiest of birthdays, and a very sweet sixteen, Katniss, darling!” The woman hugs Katniss effusively, and the girl can barely breathe of mortification.

  “Oh, but look at you! I knew Ms. Portia was the right choice for your dress. Peeta, my darling, would you be a dear and escort the birthday girl to the dance floor so the ball can officially begin? Nobody can dance until the debutant has had her first dance of the night, you know.” Mrs. Mellark’s bright blue eyes rest on Katniss’ burning face with fondness. “Go on, dance the night away you two. You’re only sixteen once!” Peeta’s mother cooes nudging them away to the dance floor.

  “Katniss shoes are pinching her toes.” Says Peeta over his shoulder trying to get out of dancing. He knows his best friend hates to be the center of attention, plus he is as graceful on the dance floor as an enraged bull in a china shop.

  “Then just do the one song and go sit afterwards, but truly, you two need to get in there… now!” The woman says with finality, and to make matters worse, Mrs. Everdeen spots them right then, and starts coming towards them.

  “Peeta…” Katniss whispers.

  “It’s alright. I’ve got you. If the shoes are really terrible, toss them away and dance in your stockings.”

  Katniss looks up at Peeta in time for him to give her a wide spin in the middle of the dance floor, and suddenly the music starts anew.

  Mrs. Everdeen and Miss Trinket— who’s just joined the hunt for the reluctant dancers— are forced to stay at the edge of the ring of partygoers, watching the birthday girl and her escort dance.

  Unexpectedly, Katniss and Peeta dance the night away, laughing and eating everything in the room, having a good ol’ time. Her uncomfortable shoes lay forgotten under a chair by the punch table, and the owner doesn’t miss them one bit all night.

  Peeta intertwines his fingers with his dance partner and only lets go after he kisses her cheek good night.

  ———

“Father is sending me and my brothers abroad.” Says Peeta agitated a week after Katniss’ sweet sixteen party..

  “How long?” Katniss asks under her breath. Miss Trinket clears her throat obnoxiously behind them. Katniss glares in turn, but faces ahead, pretending she’s interested in any of the flowers in the garden.

  “A year.” Peeta answers mechanically. “He wants us to attend some college courses, get some worldly experience; see how life is in foreign country and whatnot.” Peeta looks up at her beseechingly. “I don’t want to go. We have never been separated that long before.”

  Miss Trinket harumps again. “Dears, it’s impolite to murmur while there’s a third party with you.”

  “Then by all means, Miss Trinket, will you be so kind to give me and my dearest of friends, a so much craved privacy, so he can tell me what’s troubling him without having to speak in hushed tones?” Katniss practically growls.

  “Well, I’ve never!” The governess is in the process of snatching Katniss, arm to drag her back into the house, when Mister Everdeen happens into the yard to save the situation.

  “Ah! Miss Trinket excuse my interruption,” He bestows a blinding smile on the woman who simply nods and half curtsies.

  “No at all, sir. Please, join us.” Says Miss Trinket affably.

  After nodding gratefully, the man completely ignores the governess. “Peeta, m’boy, I heard from your father about the exciting opportunity you and your brothers have been presented with. I understand you four leave for port the day after tomorrow?”

  Katniss’ breath catches. Her head swivels smacking Peeta’s shoulder with her thick braid. “So soon? You didn’t say you were leaving so soon!” She accuses.

  “I… was about to when…” his blue eyes travel to Miss Trinket showing every ounce of annoyance he’s feeling, “never mind that. I’m sorry. I’m afraid today I came to say goodbye for a while.”

  Katniss is to the brink of tears.

  “Mmm… the day is so warm and nice though,” comments Mister Everdeen, taking a deep breath and looking at the sky above then in awe, “Why don’t you two take the horses out for a ride? Then master Peeta can join us for supper.”

  “I wouldn’t want to impose—“

  “Nonsense. Miss Trinket will see to it that your mothers are informed of the dinner plans while you’re out riding. Have fun, and don’t break any bones.” Mr. Everdeen winks at his daughter, “Miss Trinket?” He nods at the lady and let’s his long legs carry him inside the house.

  “Well, I guess propriety is out the window then.” Huffs miss Trinket. “By all means, go on your jolly horseback ride. Just be sure to be back here in thirty minutes to wash up for supper.”

  The two friends grin at each other, while Miss Trinket mutters under her breath heading to the kitchen door from the garden.  

  “Come on then!” Katniss urges taking Peeta’s hand in hers.

  They ride for five minutes before finding a clearing in the woods they like and stopping to sit together on the grass.

  They talk and abuse Effie Trinket for her aggravating meddling. “As if we’d do something inappropriate!”

  “Hogwash!”

  They prove her right a second later, when Peeta suddenly can’t hold back any longer and lunges forward, catching Katniss’ face in his hands and kissing her fervently on the lips for a solid minute without breathing at all.

  His hands are still cradling her face. The fingers of one of her hands twine with his; the fingers of her free hand start carding through his hair, pushing it from his eyes.

  “Am I being too bold?” He asks quietly leaving delicate kisses on the side of her face, down her jaw.

  “No. You’re being the right amount of bold. Stop talking and kiss me some more.”

  Peeta chuckles, and obeys.

  “I’ll write to you everyday,” he says against the delicate skin under her ear.

  “Mmm… I’ll write once a month if I can muster any words to put pen to paper.” She sighs.

  Peeta smiles to that. “Fibber! I bet you’ll be keeping a journal, so you don’t miss a story on any given day.”

  Her arms go around his neck. “Maybe you’re right. We will see.”

  Peeta lays her on her back, on top of his discarded riding coat, and words cease to matter until time comes to get back to the Everdeens for supper. And what a chore it is to temp down their need to stay wrapped up in each other, after so many kisses on the grass.

  “You’ll wait for me to return, won’t you? You won’t be kissing other boys while I pine away abroad?”

  Katniss smiles against his lips, “I won’t, but you have to promise the same,” she lifts her between them, her pinky finger extended and her eyebrows arched. “You won’t go breaking some foreign girl’s heart and coming home engaged to a stranger.”

  Peeta chuckles, but hooks his own pinky finger with hers to seal the promise. “I can assure you, my heart will remain in Panem, until I can come back to claim again.”

  “Good! We have an accord then.” Her fingers caress his cheek sweetly.

  “Seems we do!” He kisses her one last time.

  ———

  The year is up, and true to their word, Katniss and Peeta never stop their correspondence until the very last day of his journey abroad.

  She’s eagerly waiting for his arrival, counting down  the days, the hours and minutes. There’s so much to tell him! So many new people to introduce him to, like her new next door neighbors, the Hawthornes.

  Katniss really hopes Peeta gets along with her new neighbor boy, Gale Hawthorne, she befriended him and likes him a good deal despite he’s broody disposition; the young man proved to be a great hunting partner. Peeta isn’t much for hunting, he rather spend time fishing in the lake, so Katniss hopes the two boys can find something in common to bond over, so they can all spend time together.

  Her mind wanders away from her to thoughts of spending time with just Peeta… her heart beats wildly and her cheeks warm up.

  Now that she’s seventeen, maybe Papa will agree she’s old enough to be courted, and Peeta has hinted repeatedly he would like nothing more than officially ask permission to call on her as more than her childhood friend. She figures, in a way, they’ve been practicing for courtship all those years having tea with a chaperone breathing down their necks; she wonders if Peeta gets permission to court her properly, they could skip the six month to a year recommend engagement period, and go straight to the marriage and living under one roof, sharing one bed?

  Now her whole body is burning with sinful sensations. Her and Peeta have only shared a few tight lip kisses and chaste caresses, but lately, she can’t stop wondering about what would it be to free with her kisses and embraces? Sharing a bed with her ‘Boy with the Cheese Buns’ would certainly be the sweetest thing of all.

  The giddiness of her prospect future is threatening to choke her with happiness; not even Prim’s relentless— yet harmless— teasing puts a damper on Katniss’ spirits. Her future is so near, she can almost taste it!

  ———-

  Peeta and his brothers arrive early on a Sunday. He doesn’t reach out to her right away though. As disappointing as it is, Katniss understands. The Mellarks have been traveling for almost two weeks before arriving home; Peeta’s probably exhausted. She couldn’t possible begrudge him a bit of rest. In fact, resting will do wonders for a romantic encounter!

  Two days go by and a note from Peeta arrives to the Everdeens.

My dearest, Kitty:

  I apologize for not being to see you yet. I wished I had a better excuse to give, but I think I slept thirty hours through since arriving home, and now that I’m awake mother and father have been particularly overbearing. Neither my brothers or I have had time to get away on our own, which is to put it mildly, quite annoying!

  I think my eldest brother might start a mutiny soon if he doesn’t get to call on his Sweetheart, Delia Cartwright. I think I may I have mentioned he’s proposing to her as soon as he sees her?

  It’s probably the reason mother has decided to drag the whole family on a holiday to the countryside for the rest of the week. We leave within the hour, and she just only sprung this news on us! She says “we’re celebrating all three of her boys are back home under one roof, and it may very well be the very last time to have a vacation with her babies.”

  (There’s a drawing of a bunch of crying stick figures in diapers)

  The trip is unavoidable, but I’ll be missing seeing you the whole time. I pinky promise I’ll be home soon.

  (Stick man with a less crudely drawn hand, pinky finger up.)

  Then… (doodle of a smiling stick boy giving flowers to a stick figure doll)

  Wait for me, will you?

  Yours, Always.

  P~

  Katniss presses the letter to her chest sighing. She’s waited a year to see her boy, she can spare a few days more for him to get mothered and smothered.

  What she has no ways of knowing, is that she’s wrong on assuming their reunion will happen any time soon.

  ————

The war springs up swiftly and treacherously without warning. Cannons are being fired all over Panem by a neighboring, rival country.

  Men between the ages of eighteen and thirty five are being drafted left and right indiscriminately. All three Mellark brothers get called upon to defend their country; all three brothers respond valiantly by taking arms and kissing their loved ones goodbye. But Peeta hasn’t seen Katniss yet. He can’t leave before seeing her one more time, so he runs to the Everdeen home with his heart in his throat.

  The sight that greets him simply kills him.

  A man, tall, dark, and handsome stands at the bottom of the porch steps with Katniss facing him in the first step, bringing their faces almost leveled.

  Peeta is too far away to hear what they say, but he sees just how pale Katniss looks.

  She’s scowling at the man, and for a moment, Peeta quickens his step to force the stranger away, sensing he’s somehow upsetting his best friend; but right as she makes an aggravated gesture with her hands and goes to walk away, the man reaches for her wrist, pulls her back to face him, and right as she opens her mouth to say something, he kisses her right on the lips.

  The man wraps his long, strong fingers around her waist and drags her body flushed with his.

  If Peeta had stayed two more seconds, he would’ve seen Katniss push the man away and yell at him indignantly with tears in her eyes; he would’ve seen her rushing inside her house.

  If Peeta had stayed one minute longer, and gone after her— even if to demand an explanation— she would had been over the moon to see his face again and she would’ve told him she loved him right then and there.

  If he had waited enough, Katniss would’ve wrapped her arms around his neck and kiss him instead.

  But Peeta didn’t stay; he flew from the scene broken-hearted and thinking the worst of Katniss.

  The two friends never got a chance to clear the misunderstanding before the ravages of war scarred them both for life.

————

The war wages on for almost three years before Panem gets the upper hand and crushes down its attackers. But the damage runs deep and wide. Everywhere there’s devastation and loss.

  A group of injured soldiers is brought into the Everdeen home— turn hospital— in stretches.

  “Miss Everdeen, please, we need help!” A man calls from the door while pulling in one soldier with a badly mangled leg into the makeshift triage area.

  Katniss isn’t one to help with bloody patients, she’s more of a fetcher for the women actually treating the hurt and sick, but everyone else is busy helping others— hurt soldiers come by the hoard every day— and so it falls on her to see to the new arrivals. Hopefully the blood shed will stop now that the last push to expel the enemy army from Panem soil has come and gone, but the devastation seems to linger, even though the war has ended.

  “Bring him here,” Katniss tells the man pointing to a spot where she’s pushing a bookshelf out of the way to make room.

  The man has trouble pulling the heavy soldier forth— a Sergeant judging by the insignias of his burnt uniform— but when he finally reaches Katniss’ side, she almost faints.

  “Prim!” Katniss yells at the top of her lungs. “Mama! Someone! Please…” she’s sobbing uncontrollably, while fussing over the wounded man.

  Prim, now sixteen, but with the wisdom of one that has seen many horrors, comes to help. She has been directing the influx of patients around by the severity of their injuries and yelling orders to helpers all around, but she comes to her sister as fast as she can, alerted she must’ve found someone they know.

  The man is caked in mud head to toe and unconscious, but Prim’s eyes widen as soon as she sees him, she grew up seeing his mop of blonde hair, she’s seen it covered in mud before.

  “It’s his leg!” Katniss cries out desperately. “He won’t wake up. I put a torniquete on his leg to stop the bleeding, but he’s cut up pretty badly.”

  Prim goes to work right away.

  “I need someone here right away!” Prim calls loudly above the hubbub, then turns to her patient, with a soothing voice. “Peeta? Can you hear me? Peeta, is Primrose, you’re home now and I’m going to look at your leg.” She brushes his stiff hair back, breaking pieces of dirt from his bangs.

  Peeta’s breathing harshly, and needs immediate medical attention. He moans softly, but otherwise stays unconscious.

  Katniss rushes away to grab bandages, suturing materials, an a fresh water basin. Her hands tremble something awful, but she’s on her knees next to Peeta in no time, trying to clean away the muck with careful swipes.  

  The more Prim prods, the deeper she frowns. Katniss whimpers every time a new bruise or a cut gets cleared of guck, and opts for keeping her eyes from Prim’s telltale face.

  “I need help here!” Prim calls again.

  “I’m here!” Says Madge Undersee, only daughter of former Mayor Undersee, and Katniss’ personal friend for the last three years. “Tell me what to do?” Says the young woman kindly.

  “Tear off his pants, I’m afraid we will have to amputate.”

  “No!” Katniss gasps, but as the fabric of his pant leg gets shredded away, it’s plainly clear something’s really wrong with his lower limb.

  Chunks of meat and muscle have been sliced and charred on the edges, the bones of his ankle are twisted the wrong way as well. There’s no way Prim can sew him back together.

  “Was it my torniquete?” Katniss sobs quietly.

  “Of course not, Katniss. This looks like a bayonet or some kind of shrapnel explosion. I’m afraid of cutting off the boot, but doubt the foot fared any better than the calf.”

  Katniss is going to vomit, but she can’t move away; she’s holding Peeta’s hand for dear life. Maybe he can feel her there, clinging to him, and he’d survive what’s to come alright.

——-

  Peeta comes to thirsty, hungry and in severe pain.

  His eyes bother him, but he’s warm and somewhere dry for the first time in weeks.

  He tries to sit up, but every end nerve of his body screams in protest, so he stays put.

  Someone gasps next to him. “You’re awake!”

  Soft hands caress his leathery cheeks and then the person starts calling out loudly, “He’s awake!”

  There’s a lot of sobbing, and out of nowhere people start crowding him. Everything is still blurry in his eyes, so at first he’s scared he’s somehow got imprisoned by the enemy. Then he hears something curious.

  “My son! My baby! He’s awake!” Sounds like his mother.

  Arms wrap around him, a body leans on his chest.

  “Thank heavens you’re alright!”

  More people talk encouraging nonsense. He can’t filter the words properly. Nothing makes sense, then he hears her choke back a sob.

  “Peeta! You’re awake!” He swears Katniss cool fingers entwined with this.

  It must be a trick of his mind. He can’t tell. His head is spinning. Suddenly, he’s out again.

——-

  The next time he wakes up it takes him a minute to get his bearings. He’s more alert this time around and promptly recognizes his own bedroom, which is strange, because he could’ve sworn he was some 50 miles away from his town, fighting off a raid.

  Again, he tries to sit up, but realizes he can’t move very fast.

  His left foot itches something awful though. He has an all consuming urge to scratch it, he’s almost in tears. He tries to fold his leg at the knee and bring the itchy foot closer to his hand.

  “Peeta! Stop!” There’s a gasp.

  He knows the voice and wonders why is she in his room?

  But his foot itches… so, bad!

  “Peeta, please! Stop!” She’s agitated, on top of him, trying to restrain him.

  He doesn’t want to look at her, but he can’t exactly stop his eyes from find her when she’s practically laying across his body, pushing him back into the mattress. Another time, this would’ve been a dream come true for him. But not now. She’s preventing him from instant gratification, and that’s one more reason to hate her.

  Katniss looks too pale, too thin, too gaunt. Her hair is shorter, or so he assumes since it’s gathered at her nape in a tight bun. Her eyes are sunken in and rimmed with red and dark circles around them. Her dress is a muted, faded gray, as far as he can tell she’s wearing a white apron over her chest.

  She could be a maid or a nurse rather. He doesn’t care, he wants her off of him so he can scratch his foot.

  “I just need to scratch my foot, goddamnit!”

  Katniss gasps at his rude language, but she’s too busy trying to keep him from reaching his god damned itch.

  “You can’t, you have to calm down first, and then we will talk… I’ll call your father in, just… give me a second!” She grunts blocking his arm with her shoulder.

  Finally, he pushes her away— because she’s tiny, barely a hundred and five pounds soaking wet, and he’s two hundred pounds of solid muscle— Peeta practically tosses her aside and brings his hand down his limbs.

  That’s when he discovers the awful truth… there’s no left foot; there’s no knee to bend; there’s no leg at all. Just a painful stump that ends right above where his knee used to be.

  He starts screaming.

  Katniss sobs trying to fold him into her arms, but he doesn’t want her. He wants his leg… his foot itches so damned much he can’t stand it.

———-

  “Go away.” He tells her the next time he opens his eyes.

  “I can’t, I’m your very own, personal nurse.” She tells him and tries to smile, but it falls flat and sad.

  “Go. The fuck. Away, Katniss! I’m not your charity case.” He yells at her.

  He can see the tears gathering in her eyes, but she plasters a fake smile on her face and fluffs his pillow, as if she didn’t hear him. “My mother will be by this afternoon to change your bandages. She says the scars are healing nicely.”

  “GO. THE. FUCK. AWAY!” He’s kicking and screaming and for all intents, foaming at the mouth.

  She tries to hold back her sobs, but she can’t; she tries to sooth him. She tries to sing to him, touch him.

  But he’s just so strong and angry, when she leans closer to plead with to calm down, he wraps his hand around her neck and pushes her back so hard, she lands on his old desk, breaking it with the force of the collision.

  Peeta’s parents burst into the room and try to diffuse the situation as best as they can, but Peeta is acts like a mad man, swearing and cursing awful, awful names at them, at Katniss, everyone really.

  She can’t breathe, she can’t see; her neck burns where his fingers squeezed her throat, there sure will be bruises soon. She’s unsteady on her feet, but stumbles back to him, because she knows he’s hurting, and she’s hurting too. He doesn’t know about her Papa, he wouldn’t be acting this way if he did.

  “Peeta, darling… it’ll be alright—“

  “GO AWAY, KATNISS! I DON’T WANT TO SEE YOU. I DON’T WANT TO HEAR YOU. YOU’RE A FAKE AND HATE YOU FOR IT!” He hurls spit at her, and luckily misses her by a foot.

  Katniss can’t take it anymore; so she runs out of the room, out of the Mellark’s house, and doesn’t stop running until she reaches her own home. She’ll apologize to Mr. and Mrs. Mellark for not listening to their pleads to stop, but she had to get out there. Peeta hates her, and she’s not equipped to that kind of rejection from the boy she hope to grow old with.

  ———

  Doctor Aurelius comes to town at the request of Healer Everdeen. He’s the best doctor in two counties and has helped many people, including her own ailing husband after the incident that almost killed him.

  The good doctor is a middle aged man with half moon spectacles, and a quiet demeanor. He seems smart and capable, but he has the annoying habit of humming while he works, and for some reason that aggravates Peeta.

  The doctor examines Peeta’s leg carefully for a few quiet moments. “I hear you were having some phantom aches and itches on your left foot.” Says the doctor lifting his eyes to Peeta’s. “Is this still true for you?”

  Peeta shrugs and looks away. “Not as bad as the first few weeks.” His voice sounds strange to his own ears. “But yesterday I couldn’t take myself out of bed, because my left slipper was missing. Objectively, I know I don’t need it, but I can’t bring myself to function until I see the pair, sitting at the foot of my bed. Somehow that seems like a more pressing concern, to me right now.”

  Doctor Aurelius takes notes without speaking for a moment, and then, stands up wiping his glasses with a kerchief. “It’s not unusual for an amputee to experience phantom cramps, itches and pain on their missing extremities. Our working hypothesis is, that the brain is not used to missing a piece of the body so suddenly, so it continues sending out pulses and orders that ultimately go nowhere. Then the brain tricks itself into feeling these sensations of pain, itch, etcetera. Hopefully, they’ll become less frequent with time.

  “Same wise, I would guess your mind is applying a similar preservation principle, in a visual level. Your mind demands to see the whole set of footwear ready to go, even if consciously you know it’s a waste. This correlations take time to sink in and adapt to the new reality.”

  “So that’s it? My brain is going to keep playing tricks on me until it catches up with the fact I’m a cripple now?” Peeta snaps. His father that has been sitting quietly on a corner of the room clears his throat as a reminder to his son to remember himself.

  “Mister Mellark, you’ve healed beautifully. Your caregivers did an amazing job containing the wounds and repairing as much as the damage to your muscles and cartilage as they could. And yes, you lost a limb, and of course the will be scarring for life, but given the severity of your injury, I can assure you, the Everdeen healers did you an even greater service than they could provide to their own kin, and you should be grateful for it.”

“What do you mean by that, sir?” Peeta asks a little apprehensive.

  Mr. Mellark shifts uncomfortably in his chair, but he’s the one to speak next. “Peeta, there was an accident about two weeks after the enemy’s surrendered. The office building Mr. Everdeen worked at, had been used as a military weapon and ammunition storage. Since the war was officially over, announced the would be rounding up their assets and moving them to a more secure location.”

  “Mr. Everdeen was overseeing the process when some black powder was accidentally ignited, and all hell broke loose. He managed to keep the exploding from reaching the barrels of powder and the cannonballs.”

  Peeta swallows. “Is Mister Everdeen… d-d—“

  Mr. Mellark shakes his head, “He’s alive, but he’s been paralyzed from the the waist down. He’ll be confined to bed or a wheelchair for the life.”

  Peeta shifts uncomfortable in his bed. His pajamas too stiff on his body. He frowns at his lap. “I’m sorry to hear that. Mr. Everdeen certainly doesn’t deserve such a fate.”

  “No, he does not. That’s why in my personal opinion you should count yourself fortunate, Mister Mellark. You’re a great candidate for a prosthesis. It will take some work to get use to it; you’ll have to train your body to relearn to walk, but I’m confident at the end of a few weeks, you’ll recovering your mobility. If it’s alright with you, I’ll have my colleague, Dr. Beetee Latier, pay you a visit in the next few days. He’ll have to take measurements and there would be a handful of fittings, but I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t be walking with minimum aid in two months time.”

  Peeta looks at doctor, and gives a curt nod of assent. Walking with minimal aids is definitely more desirable than not walking at all.

  When the doctor is gone, Mr. Mellark approaches his son with barely disguised aggravation.

  “Son, I know losing your leg is a a rotten hand to be given in life. But we should all be grateful the odds were in your favor during the raid.”

  “How so?” He spits venomously. “None of this seems very lucky to me.” Peeta growls angrily.

  Mr. Mellark gives his son a stern glance, “Peeta, you may not see how fortunate you truly are, and you’re entitled to your ire, but you’re one of only three man in your unit to survive the war, and make it home to your family. Other young fellows weren’t quite so lucky. You shouldn’t take your life for granted, and really shouldn’t take your anger out on people who loves you.”

  Great! Now Peeta feels guilty for not dying that day, and he’s got a sneaky suspicion his father was talking about Katniss right before leaving him alone in his bedroom.

  ———

  Panem heals slowly but surely. Everyone is eager to leave the war behind and rebuild what was lost; weddings spring everywhere, and pregnancies start being announced soon after. No family goes without celebrating one.

  The eldest Mellark brother weds his pre-war Sweetheart, Delly Cartwright, immediately upon his return home. The second brother takes a few months but then he too, marries a girl, Leevy, that although not wealthy, has his whole heart in her hands. The whole town is in assistance, including the Everdeens. Peeta sulks in a corner the whole time trying to avoid everyone as much as he can.

  He’s been fitted for his fake leg, and moves alright with a walking stick, but he swears people look at him with pity and he hates it.

  Then he sees Katniss in the crowd, her demeanor removed and stoic. She looks nothing like she did when they were children. She’s so beautiful though… it hurts his chest to look at her, being so far away, but that only last until the same man he saw kissing her the day he was deployed approaches her with a drink in hand and she takes it, gifting the man a small, grateful smile.

  The man says something, and she laughs, shaking her head ruefully, then he offers her his arm, and she takes it without hesitation, walking towards a group of people Peeta has no interest on figuring out their identities. His stomach churns too unpleasantly, his blood boils in his veins.

  He can’t believe they have the audacity to show up together to his home, where he can see them and flaunt their relationship on his face. He hates that man, whoever he is. The jealousy sours the day for him, so he tries to avoid the whole party altogether.

  Tries, being the keyword.

  “Hello, Peeta.” Says Primrose Everdeen smiling sweetly at him. She looks lovely, long blond hair braided down her back just like her sister did before the war. Her blue eyes are kind, but older than a seventeen year old should. “It’s so nice to see you!”

  Peeta nods. “Hello, Prim.” They stand there staring at each other. “It was nice seeing you too. Enjoy the party.” He starts turning to go, but Prim pounces forward cutting off his escape.

  “Have you said hello to Katniss yet? I’m sure she’d love to see you.”

  “Uh. I don’t think so. Now, if you excuse me.”

  He tries to go around the girl, but the blonde is persistent.

  “You should come with me and sit for a spell. I heard you made the cake yourself. It looks delicious, I would love a piece served directly by the baker himself…” her smile is too wide, but her eyes aren’t crinkled at the corners. “I bet my sister will die of envy when sees I’m having dessert already!”

  Peeta gives the girl an awkward smile. “I’ll take a rain check. You go enjoy the party, you hear?”

  Primrose lets all pretenses fall and goes for the kill.

  “You’re being stubborn, Peeta Mellark! We miss you! We want to see you and be around you.”

  “And you are a nosy little pest, Primrose Everdeen!”

  Peeta’s outburst is so loud the whole party screeches to a halt and everyone turns to stare at him and the healer girl.

  Prim’s face harden. “I saved your life you know.” Says Prim lowly. It may be petty and childish, but he doesn’t get to insult her just because he’s being stupid.

  When the incident doesn’t intensify, people lose interest and look away.

  “Well, thanks for nothing! You should’ve let me die. Now move out of my way—“

  “Hey! Don’t you dare talk to my sister that way!”

  Peeta stiffens for a second, but storms past the Everdeen sisters like a hurricane all the same. Katniss follows hot on his heel, angry, hurt and ready for a fight.

  “What makes you think it’s alright to be so rude and nasty to people who are only trying to help you, care for you?”

  “Care for me?!” Peeta wheels around. “You are piece of work, saying that to me right now!”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Katniss demanded in outrage.

  “Katniss, I know, alright? I saw you. Stop lying, it’s unbecoming. I would’ve thought all that expensive education would’ve taught you cheating is a foul, amoral thing, and that’s even before I was a disfigured, cripple! Maybe Miss Trinket lost her time with you, two timing Jezebel!”

  Slap!

  The sound of an open palm colliding with flesh freezes time and sound in the hallway Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen stand staring at each other perplexed by his scathing words and her retaliation.

  Katniss’ chest heaves harshly with every ragged breath she takes. “I don’t have the faintest idea of where you come off saying such awful things, Peeta Mellark. I have never been more insulted in my life, but I see now you’re not the best friend I’ve been missing all this time. You may have lost a leg, but that’s not what makes you a cripple, Peeta. You’re—you’re, a monster. A mutt. The boy I grew up with never came home, all that is left is a bitter, twisted version of him.”

  Katniss stomps past her former best friend, slamming into his side with her shoulder for good measure.

  Peeta just swivels with the friction, laughing mirthlessly. “Look who’s talking! But I guess you’re right, that naive, lovesick boy you duped is gone, honey! Welcome to the new Panem, where childhood memories come to die!” He opens his arms in a grand gesture, but she flies down the corridor back to her folks to beg them to go home.

  “Peeta! Why is Katniss rushing out of your    B brothers’ reception in tears? What did you do this time?” Demands Mrs. Everdeen closely followed by her husband.

  “All I did was tell her the truth. I cannot be held responsible by her guilty conscience reaction.”

  Mrs Mellark looks at her son with suspicion. “Guilty conscience? Of what exactly?”

  “I saw her kissing another man, mother! That fellow wearing the 2nd Battalion of Panem uniform. Did he hear the war ended already?”

  “Gale Hawthorne?” His Mother makes a dismayed sigh.

  “When did you see this kiss happening, son? And please do not speak so loudly. People will hear. Command Major Hawthorne has an impeccable reputation, and this is a severe accusation to a married man.”

  “Married?” Now Peeta feels the world has gone topsy turvy. “I— no, he kissed Katniss the day I got my orders to join the front. I went to say goodbye to the Everdeens, that man was there, he kissed her right in front of her house.”

  “Oh, Peeta…” His Mother laments, “You’ve gone all this time thinking the worst of your very best friend, and you never talked to her about it? He may have stolen a kiss before going to war. I’m sure you would’ve done the same given the chance, but she never showed interest in him that way.”

  “Hawthorne is that neighbor boy she used to hunt with. How do you know she wasn’t in some… affair with the fellow?” Peeta grumbles not ready to concede.

  “Command Major Hawthorne was stationed just outside town the last seven months of the war. He met former miss Undersee. She’s Katniss only friend besides Primrose. Mister Hawthorne and miss Undersee fell madly in love and eloped a few days after you were found and brought to the Everdeens. Katniss is their first child’s godmother, which was born not two weeks ago. We didn’t raise you to make assumptions based on half perceptions.” Says Mrs Mellark sadly.

  “Son,” Says Mr. Mellark cautiously, “I think you owe Katniss an apology. Maybe an explanation as well? You too need to patch things up between yourselves. Katniss’ folks and us have done everything in our power to brought you two up close; everything we’ve ever done is so you too would have the best possible relationship as grown ups. It is important you both get over this terrible enmity and put it behind you.”

  Peeta’s lips thin into a line. “What’s the use? She thinks I’m a angry monster. A mutt. And I think she may be right after all.” He turns away from his parents and makes a beeline to his rooms, tired of pretending he was something he was not.

  “She’s a survivor, that one,” Says mrs Mellark, stopping her son in his tracks. “She single handedly fed our entire town when food had to be rationed to send supplies to the troops. Thanks to her instincts you’re here, you know. It is my understanding she stopped your hemorrhage when you were first brought wounded to her mother’s care. She’s been doing odd works around town to help support her family since her father can’t work anymore,

  “She’s never done anything other than help anyway she can. She worries about you. You would do well to figure out how to get along with her. She’s an honorable young lady, you should feel lucky she’s your… your…“

  “Best friend,” supplies Mr. Mellark dubiously.

  Peeta just shakes his head, and goes to his room, clomping his walking stick with each step.

  The next year and a half, both the Mellarks and the Everdeens try to bring the former friends back together, but egos where hurt, guilt was mishandled, self loathing clouded some thoughts and trauma kept the spirits low. Neither Peeta or Katniss were willing to take the first step towards reconciliation, so nothing was solved, and resentment just festered untreated.

————

  The day after Peeta’s twenty third birthday, the Mellarks dress in their best fineries, have a frugal lunch and practically hogtie Peeta into his Sunday suit and on to the family carriage. His parents won’t tell him where they’re going or why are they dressed so fancy.

  They travel some thirty miles outside town, through some well kept dirt roads and rolling hills of green grass. Summer isn’t quite gone yet, but air is starting to get nippy, specially riding on the driver bench of the cart.

  The family arrives to a grand Victorian type house, sitting smack in the middle of a beautiful valley with rose bushes in every possible color lining the property in every direction. Behind the main house sits the biggest greenhouse Peeta has ever seen, an structure made of glass and wrought iron. The place has to be splendid during the spring months, when the air is warm.

  “What is this place?” Peeta asks curiously.

  “It’s the home of my great grandfather Snow.” Says mrs Mellark with an uncomfortable sniff.

  Peeta’s heard of the man before, nothing terribly good. The man is an eccentric, patronizing old man with a god complex and a disturbing sense of humor. A total bastard, that as far as Peeta knows, takes pleasure on holding his family’s inheritances over their heads by bullying them into doing his bidding. Peeta’s surprised the old coot is still alive.

  More surprising for Peeta, is to find his brothers and their wives there as well, looking as confused and nervous as he is.

  “What are we here for, you reckon?” Asks the middle brother his blue eyes fixed on the terracotta tiled veranda with its floating fern baskets hanging from the ceiling every few feet.

  “No idea,” mutters the other brother. The two then look at Peeta. “You rode here with mother and father,” he posits arching an eyebrow.

  “I’m as clueless as you are.” He answers aggravated.

  “We’re here because Peeta is finally twenty three. We are finally ready for the announcement that will secure our entire family’s fortune for the future.” Says Peeta’s mother uneasily.

  “What? What do you mean?” Peeta asks anxiously. “This sounds like a scheme, a mockery I was too insignificant to clue in.”

  “I’m sorry, son. We are not allowed to say anything until we’re all here for the announcement.”

  “Father?” He appeals to his old man, but even his father declines with a sad shake of his head.

  “We stand to lose everything, Peeta. Then where will we be? No roof, no bakery, no income to support us all. Your Grandfather will clear things up soon enough. I just hope we prepared you enough for this day.”

  “Well, that sounds ominous enough. Anything else?”

  “Uh… Peet, I guess maybe that will make things more fun?” Says his middle brother pointing at the horse drawn carriage gaining speed in the distance.

  Everyone recognize the Everdeen crest and the black stallions pulling the cart.

  “What are they doing here?” Peeta grumbles moodily.

  “Remember I said all of our family is being affected by tonight’s events?” Mrs. Mellark reminds him. “Mrs. Everdeen is my second cousin, Grandfather Snow, is her great Grandfather as well.”

  “Well, I do not want to be responsible for their fortune or misfortune. I want no part in this—“

  “You keep your mouth nice and civil, you hear me?” Peeta’s taken aback, his father has never spoken to anyone in such a tone before, cutting and firm with no room for protesting. “While we are in front of great Grandfather Snow, you will treat Katniss like she’s the most important person in the world to you, and you will be decent to her for once. I’m sick and tired of your disrespectful jabs and uncalled for hostility. Tonight it’s imperative Grandfather Snow sees a united front, otherwise, both our families are doomed. Do you understand?”

  “Of course. I’ll… try my best—“

  “Don’t try! Be better.”

  By the time Mr. Mellark stops talking, the Everdeens have entered the property, and their horses are coming to a halt next to the Mellark’s fuel propelled carriage.

  The mothers embrace in the middle of the veranda, exchange a few hushed words, eyes flitting between Katniss and Peeta as they speak rapidly. Katniss scowl is as deep as Peeta’s frustration. They’re about to protest the whole thing, when the door of the house opens wide, and out comes a man with a peculiarly groomed beard.

  “Ah! Right on time! Excellent!” Says the man clapping his hands once before opening his arms in welcome. “Cousins, It’s been a long time since we’ve been all together. Both of you look as lovely as always.”

  “Seneca,” Says first mrs. Everdeen and the man comes to kiss her twice, once on each cheek.

  He does the same with Mrs. Mellark, but then turns to Prim and Katniss, and gives them a salacious wink. Peeta hasn’t spoken to either Katniss or Prim since he blew up at his brothers’ wedding less than two years earlier, but he still feels protective of the girls, so he steps between the man and the girls, deliberately making himself look bigger than he is to shield his former friends.

  “You may be my mother’s cousin, but we have not been officially introduced to you, sir,” Says Peeta  smoothly, presenting his hand jovially. “I’m Peeta, youngest Mellark son.”

  The man grins as if pleased with the young man. “Seneca Crane. I am Grandfather Snow’s direct grandchild, and also his legal counsel. It is a joy to finally meet my cousins beloved children.” Seneca shakes everyone’s hands, and stays perfectly gentlemanly when greeting the ladies. A moment later, he invites everyone inside. “Come, please, Grandfather is waiting!”

  Inside, the house is enormous and richly decorated. The furnishings solid oaks and mahogany, the carpets and rugs thick and fluffy under their feet, the crystal chandeliers in every room so ornate the whole place is one step shy of gaudy.

  They follow Seneca who prattles on and on about inconsequential little things such as the price of herbicides, or the fact that he’s been putting back looking for a curator for Grandfather’s art collection, because he’s so lazy.

  A few minutes later, they come to a set of double doors. Seneca looks over his shoulder with snide smirk, then he pushes the doors open.

  The first thing Katniss registers, is the pungent smell of roses that seems to be coming from the very walls of the room, but then she notices the dozens upon dozens of pink, red and white flowers standing in tall vases proudly all over the place.

  It’s not a sitting room or a parlor like most hosts would bring guests to entertain them. The room is in fact a very big office, with floor to ceiling bookshelves packed with books, small decorative tokens, and even pictures of various familiar faces including Everdeens and Mellarks.

  There’s a desk as big as dining table in the middle of the room, and a frail looking, old man, with hair as white and thin as floss, sitting in a big wing chair behind the desk.

  “So the day has come at last, and my house welcomes all of you and your families once more.” Says the old man without looking up from a document he’s reading on his desk. “Let’s have supper first, then, we will discuss what have brought us all here today.”

  The whole party shuffles to an even grander dining room, with scrumptious food on the table and beautiful desserts to end the meal. Everyone tries to enjoy the diner, but tension is think in the air.

  “Very well family,” Says Grandfather Snow once he’s done eating his pudding. “Seneca has drawn contracts for everyone to sign. The deeds to your houses, the bakery, Miss Primrose’s education and Emmett Everdeen’s medical expenses will be put into trusts until after the consummation of the vows and then, you will all have hefty bank accounts all on your names.”

  Everyone is confused by his words… everyone except for the parents that is.

  “Excuse me, I don’t understand.” Says Peeta just as Seneca Crane presents him with a piece of paper, he can only assume is the contract the old man is talking about. “My mother said that today I would find out how I was responsible for everyone’s well being, but you mentioned consumption of vows? What’s does that mean, Grandfather?” He asks as respectfully as he can. He senses this old man is not to be trifled with.

  “Oh! Of course. What am I thinking?” The old man laughs a wheezy sound, and then turns his black  beady eyes to the young man. “Why I forgot congratulations are in order, my boy!”

  “Congratulations?” Asks one brother under his breath.

  “Um, thank you?” Answers Peeta uneasily. “Just… uh—“

  “Katniss, dear! You are now twenty two years old, am I right?” Asks the old man cutting Peeta off.

  “Yes, Grandfather. I will be twenty three in May.”

  “Good! And you have done well, even with your father’s unfortunate accident.” He observes. “Where is the fellow by the way? And excuse me for not asking after him sooner.”

  “My husband is at home, with a friend.” Says Mrs. Everdeen solicitously.

  Grandfather Snow nods. “Will he be able to sign his portion of the contract?” He asks rather callously.

  “Yes, Grandfather. He just can’t travel in his condition.”

  “I see.” Says the man, and Katniss is reminded of a snake ready to pounce looking into the old man’s face. “Will he attend the wedding?”

  “Wedding?” Peeta asks in alarm. “What wedding?”

  Snow turns to Peeta once more. His smile gives everyone chills. “Why, Katniss’ of course.”

  Katniss gasps in shock. Her eyes wide as saucers look to her mother pleadingly. She tries to ask so many questions, but her voice has left her, and she feels like a fish struggling for oxygen.

  “There’s been a mistake,” Says Prim from her place meekly, “my sister isn’t engaged. She not even being courted by anyone.”

  “Oh but she has been.” Says Seneca Crane ruffling through his papers, as soon as he sits down after presenting everyone with their own copies of their contracts. “She’s been engaged pretty much since birth, and her courtship has been the longest one in history… at least in my opinion.” The man gives an effeminate laugh, making everyone sink into their chairs. Their minds connecting dots and coming to conclusions as the minutes tick by.

  Peeta is besides himself angry. He stands up from the table abruptly and storms out of the dining room.

  Katniss excuses herself and him, and runs after to catch up. “Peeta! Wait!” She calls desperately. “We need to talk about this.”

  “No! We don’t! Leave me alone.”

  “I can’t! This about the two of us, not just you.”

  “If you’re alright with this… travesty, then be my guest. You’re on your own and you truly aren’t the person I once knew. The Katniss I knew growing up would’ve taken offense at this disrespectful show, she would rebel against it, not roll on her back and take it like a good little bumpkin with no brains in her head.

  “I for one can’t accept this, even less if you’re just complying so easily. You have no spine, no self worth, you make me sick!” He finally turns around to throw her a killing glare but the sight of her, dowthrothen and beaten makes his heart ache.

  She looks at him stoically. Tears swelling her eyes, that she refuses to let fall. “I don’t care what you think of me. You can say whatever you want, but both you and I know we can’t afford pissing off grandfather Snow. Your family would lose the bakery in case you didn’t read your contract. My father will most likely die, because I won’t be able to pay for his treatments and medicines. Prim will lose any chance of getting a dowry. Your brothers and their families won’t have a place to live in, Peeta.

  “I know marrying me is got to be about the most repulsive thing in the world to you right now, and believe me, after hearing just how lowly you think of me, I’m not exactly thrilled either. But my family’s future depends on this sham of marriage. I don’t know why this awful man picked us for this mockery of a life, but I won’t be responsible for letting any of them down. If you are alright with sinking your family and yourself in a hole so deep there’s no coming out, that’s on you, and you are the spineless, brainless one. Not me.”

  She turns around and walks stiffly back into the house, leaving Peeta to stand alone in the veranda.

  Peeta sits there for a few more minutes, thinking about everything Katniss has said, wondering what his family’s fate would be, getting angry at his parents deception, and then going back to feel hopeless. But Katniss is right, it would be selfish of him to refuse the contract when innocent people, like his nephews who are but babes, could be left without a roof over their heads. He shivers to think the fate that would befall Mr. Everdeen, a man he’s always admired until today, when he learned his part in the unfair deal.

  He goes back inside with a heavy heart, to see everyone putting on coats and cloaks, getting ready for the long road ahead before the last rays of sunshine are gone.

  Nobody looks at him, nobody talks to him, except Primrose, who gives him a cold glare, while rubbing a soothing hand over her Mother’s back as she sobs uncontrollably.

  Peeta marches on, and stands next to Katniss.

  She scans his face for a moment; when he sticks his elbow out to her, she takes it wordlessly.

  They will go into this as one. A front united.

  They take a few stoic steps towards Seneca Crane. “Excuse us, Cousin Seneca, if Grandfather’s generous deal is still on the table, we will like to accept the terms of the contract.”

  “Excellent, young lad!” Exclaims Seneca boisterously, “follow me everyone, and… do not worry about returning home tonight. You are all guests of Grandfather Snow until visibility allows safe travels.”

  —————

  Katniss and Peeta are only given two weeks to plan their wedding and marry, and just because the bride and groom to be decided to go through with the arrangement, didn’t mean they had forgiven each other from the awfulness of the past few years.

  They are stiff and chilly towards each other during visits to the florists, the musicians, the clothiers, and even the stationer they commissioned invitations from. But there are flashes of kindness between the two at times.

  For example, Peeta asks Katniss is they should go chocolate cake, since it’s her favorite, or if they should let Prim choose, so she feels included in the wedding preparations. He’s already paid the butcher for his best lamb, and ordered plums from the grocer, for Katniss’ favorite dish of lamb and plum stew.

  And there’s the moment at the florists, when Katniss adamantly argues that orange flowers are not just acceptable for wedding decor, but cheery and full of hope. Same goes for the their visit with the clothier, Miss Portia and her brother Mr. Cinna show them a variety of white laces and ribbons for sashes, yet she spots the soft orange velvet hidden in a corner, and decides Peeta’s vest should be made out of it, and she and Primrose will wear matching sashes with their dresses. She doesn’t mention she chose the hue, because it’s Peeta’s favorite color.

  Then the gossip and whispers pick up. Their town is small and sleepy for the most part, but everyone knows about the rift between the two former friends, and none of the stories floating around are very kind to the couple, particularly Katniss, who gets severely and unfairly judged by every woman in town. So Peeta comes to escort the Everdeen women to the small chapel in the square, and asks to speak at the end of the service.

  He delivers a beautifully worded— if deceivingly scalding— speech about the virtuous of his future wife, and how they had been given a second chance at a future they thought gone, that restores both their good names in one fifteen minute long statement.

  But not everyone was fooled into seeing a pair of starcrossed lovers reclaiming their fairytale romance.

  Professor Abernathy watches Peeta walk into the local pub with his brothers the day before the wedding. He’s not in a celebratory mood, but his brothers seem elated that their families futures are secure, and they have a misguided assumption that Peeta and Katniss’ relationship will heal sooner rather than later; after all, they used to love each other as children.

  Commander Hawthorne is there too, and he feels the need to congratulate the groom of his son’s godmother.

  “Sergeant Mellark!” Calls Gale Hawthorne reaching the trio of broad shouldered Mellarks. All three blonde heads turn to him at the same time.

  “That would be me,” Says Peeta frowning. “But I retired, Command Sergeant, sir.” Says Peeta saluting his military superior.

  “At ease. I’m here to congratulate you on your upcoming nuptials. You may not know me, but I used to be your bride’s neighbor.” Says Gale impassively.

  “I know who you are alright.” Says Peeta glaring. He takes a long swig of his ale, hoping the man would go away.

  “Same wise, Sergeant. Catnip talks about you constantly. It was quite annoying at times honestly. She always held a candle out for you, sir.”

  Peeta slams his beer mug on the table top, causing his two brothers who had been conversing between themselves to turn back to the newcomer.

  “Then pray tell, Sir, why did you kiss my sweetheart if you knew she was waiting for me?”

  A shadow passes over Gale’s face, bringing a mighty scowl that could rival Katniss’.

  Sensing trouble, Professor Abernathy drinks a tumbler full of white liquor in one gulp without flinching, and steps between the man deliberately.

  “Command Sergeant, nice of you to come buy us all a glass of whiskey, but I’ll tell you what, son, it’s time for Mister Mellark here to go back home for a regenerative beauty sleep. After all it won’t do to have the groom look all rumpled and tired.” Abernathy makes a dismissive gesture to the man who only glowers for moment but walks away at the end.

  “Come up, Boy, I wasn’t kidding, I’m gonna walk you home. Your brothers can stay, though.” He says throwing them a glare that says they should obey. “Come on, I have my own harpy to go home too, you know?”

  Peeta walks out of the pub more reluctantly than he was to go in.

  Abernathy pounces on him right away. “Boy, you and Sweetheart have got to warm up before the show tomorrow. Nobody wants to see two people go hate each other kiss. It’s just wrong and cringeworthy, much like your performances of late.”

  “Well, in case you don’t know, Katniss and I aren’t exactly the same awestruck children we used to be.”

  “No, you are most definitely not. Those kids were cute and lovely. You gave me tooth decay you were so sweet. Now, you just make me wince in pain.” Abernathy takes a look at Peeta with those sharp gray eyes of his. “So, you broke the girl’s heart, but I didn’t know why until just now. You think Hawthorne overstepped some claim line you had on the girl, and then you decided to treat her and the rest of the world like shit.”

  Peeta glances back at his old mentor. “She hasn’t been very nice either.”

  “Boy, I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say she has no clue what is it she did wrong to earn your scorn. I’d be defensive too.” He stays quiet while Peeta ponders. “Look, Hawthorne was out of line, but so were you, and still you haven’t done crap to fix it. Hawthorne at least did something to redeem himself enough, now Sweetheart is his spawn’s godmother. What have you done to gain at least her friendship back?”

  “I hate that Hawthorne!” Peeta grunts. “And He has the gall to call her a nickname in front of me? Where does he get off?”

  “Ah!” Says Abernathy, “Jealousy is still Well and alive I see. You should go with that. That my old lady would disapprove of this advice, but I say, you need to get in your wives good graces, before you get in your wife, if you catch my meaning.”

  Peeta balks at the man, but Abernathy is not a salacious man, he actually looks a bit green in the face.

  “I doubt Katniss and I will go that far at all, at least not now. As you said, we’re not even friends.”

  “Boy, a men has needs, and when sharing a bed with the warm body of his wife… well, it’s hard to stay away. I say this with much regret.” The man looks up. “Well, here we are. I’ve done my part. Now you go do yours. Fix it!”

  “What?” Peeta has been so absorbed in the conversation he didn’t realized they were already home, except it’s not his home. It’s Katniss’ home. “Wait!”

  But Abernathy is knocking loudly, and quick steps approach the door.

  “No! Why did you— no!”

  The door opens, Katniss herself stands at the other side scowling suspiciously at the two men.

  “Sweetheart, your man’s home! You’re welcome!” He says to her pointing at her nose with his index fingers. He points a lot Peeta next, “Fix it!”

  He then turns around and walks home with his hands into his trousers pockets, whistling a catchy jaunty.

  “Can you believe that walking mess convinced miss Trinket to marry him?” Says Peeta staring at the man’s back.

  “Mmm… war will do that to people, but really, I can’t speak too much about women’s dubious choice in spouse.” She says coldly.

  Peeta sighs deeply. “I guess not.” He agrees. “Can I possibly come in?”

  “It’s almost nine. I should be in bed as it is, not to mention how inappropriate talking to you without a chaperone is.”

  Peeta chuckles. “Now you want a chaperone? You used to hate having one.”

  Katniss rolls her eyes, making his heart stutter. “Come in. I can’t have the gossip mill start up again the night before the wedding.”

  “Look, Katniss, we need to at least go into this marriage as friends. So I’ve been thinking, that if I stop being so… wounded, we may have a chance after all.”

  “You know I’m rubbish at making friends.”

  “Yes, but you see, we have an advantage here, we already know everything about each other. We have a childhood in common, and we know the big stuff.”

  “Then what else can we talk about if we know the big stuff? Favorite colors? We know that too.”

  Peeta shakes his head at her rueful smirk. He smiles too, a real one for the first time in months. “I have a confession to make.” He says. “I saw Hawthorn kissing you five years ago.”

  Katniss cocks her head sideways. A plethora of emotions wash over her face before settling on a angry scowl.

  “You’ve put me through hell, because you saw a desperate, confused boy, force a kiss on me, on a highly emotional day, and you never deign to come talk to me about until now?”

  Peeta can see the fire and steam coming out of her ears and nostrils. The only thing he can do is brace for it.

  “You mean to tell me, Peeta Mellark, all this hateful talk, all this nasty behavior, the awful insults, the finger prints around my neck… I had those for almost a month! All that, you mean to tell me, was just because of a stolen kiss I didn’t even enjoy?”

  The first punch doesn’t hurt physically, as it does emotionally. Then comes another dozen punches and kicks to his chest and right leg, because she’s still aware of his prosthesis, but she’s angry at him.

  “You ass, Peeta Mellark! You broke my heart and I had no idea what I did wrong! You’re an idiot!” She punches and scratches, and he doesn’t move one inch, taking all of her rage and letting her release all the pent up anger, sadness, and fear she’s been carrying around for the past half decade.

  Primrose and Mrs Everdeen are in the room, neither Peeta nor Katniss knows when they arrived, but they just stand there there watching Katniss pummel her tiny fists against Peeta’s hard chest, and when she starts crying so much, snot drips from her nose, Peeta finally takes her into his arms, and squeezes her tightly to him.

  “I’m so sorry, Kitty. You’re right, I have been a complete idiot. You didn’t deserve any of the things I’ve said and done. I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll try to be a better friend to you now. Please.”

  Katniss lands another hit to his ribs, it still doesn’t hurt though, so he decides to teach her how to throw a decent punch for the future.

  Mrs Everdeen brings Prim upstairs, giving the couple privacy. Katniss gets a headache from crying so much, and promptly falls asleep in his warm arms.

  The night is so bizarre, but Peeta feels hope stir in his chest for the first time in ages.

———-

  The wedding is short, simple and lovely. The reception is a true celebration, with food, music, and laughter. The cake is Peeta’s best work yet, delicious and fluffy, but the outside makes it hard to cut into it, so beautiful and intricate. A hundred Katniss blooms made of sugar, covering three tiers of pure, decadent chocolate… and buttercream vanilla filling, because that’s what Prim wanted.

  The bride and groom share a couple shy glances, but there’s still a layer of frost on their interactions.

  Mr Everdeen, rolls in his wheelchair to Peeta’s side. “May I have a word?” He asks in a somewhat delayed speech.

  “Of course,” Says Peeta solicitously, moving them both to a more secluded corner.

  “Son,” the man starts, “I’m sorry we didn’t protect either of you two from your Grandfather’s suck games. I heard you tried to stand up to him.”

  Peeta shakes his head. “Not really. I just stood and left everyone in that room to fall in despair. It was Katniss who made it plain for me to see I was being selfish. I just wished I could show Snow that I’m still me, even now. Not a piece in his games. That me and Katniss would e ended up here anyway without his meddling. I just don’t know how to do that.”

  “But that’s the easy part, Peeta! Just love each other, bring each up. Be nice, and attentive to one another. Don’t allow fear and guilt take more out of you two than it’s already done. Trust each and forgive yourselves. Things will get better. I know they will. We tried to rise you seeing good, loving families; happy, strong marriages. We hoped that you would see and model… I wish we could’ve had let you know what was ahead. But the war threw a wrench in the mix. But you’re now married, it’s up to you how you live that marriage. I have faith you two will find your happy medium and grew back together, I to the loving teens you used to be.”

  Peeta is grateful for his father-in-laws words, so he hugs him and goes on to look for his wife, he owes her a wedding dance.

  ————-

  Katniss and Peeta bow out of the party quietly.

  Peeta breathes deeply, “Um, I have a gift for you.” He tells his new bride shyly.

  “You didn’t have to,” She says gratefully, unwrapping the pack he sits on her lap. He says nothing, only watching her nervously. “What is this?” She asks holding a beautifully bound book in soft burgundy silk over hard cover.

  Still, he won’t say anything, so she turns the book over, right side up, and gasps, holding a hand to her chest. “Peeta… how is this possible?” Her eyes are filled with tears when she finally looks up from the gold engraved title of the book:

  The Mockingjay and the Willow Tree, and Other Bedtime Stories.

By K.P. Everlark

  Her breath hitches.

  He speaks anxiously, “I actually had it rebound years ago, hoping it would be an engagement present. I had this stupid little dream, that one day we would read it to our own babies together, but for a while there, that dream was dead and buried… it doesn’t matter now. The dream, or whatever… I want you to know I don’t expect you to bore me children if you don’t trust me or want to. I—“

  She throws her arms around his neck, surprising him. “It’s perfect!” She whispers I to his shoulder. “Our children will love it!”

  “So you like it?” He asks hopeful.

  “I do! Very much!”

  The newlyweds get ambushed by Seneca Crane. The man presents the two with a set of keys to a grand hotel in the town.

  “Wedding night gift!” He says wiggling his eyebrows unnervingly. “From Grandfather. He asked me to deliver this as well.”

  Mr. and Mrs. Mellark and Mr. and Mrs. Everdeen rush to their children, to see what other twisted requirement Snow is throwing at them.

  Katniss eyes grow wide as she reads the document. “What is this?” She passes the paper to Peeta, who struggles to keep his eyes on the words, instead of glaring daggers at Seneca.

  “What?!” He screeches. “Absolutely not! Find another way, but I’m not having sex to my wife for the first ever with some creep audience in the room. I’m sorry, but I’m putting my foot down on this. Enough is enough!” He says indignantly.

  Katniss looks at Peeta with barely hidden admiration.

  The parents are disgusted on all levels, but they don’t intervene either.

  “Very well, we are prepared to negotiate in the case you refused to go with the stipulation in section B of paragraph five.”

  Katniss leafs through the contract, Seneca hands her, and scowls. “That only covers the manner in which it’s confirmed or verified that the marriage has been consummated. It does not say anything about when or if, it should happen at all. What if we are not ready to do that!”

  “Oh, the consummation of the vows is non negotiable. It has to happen before dawn on your wedding night. Tonight. Otherwise, the rest of the contract is void and you all forfeit your Inheritance. I will give you both five minutes to discuss, and then I’m only authorized to speak to the husband about the manner in which we are proceeding from here on out.”

  Peeta and Katniss share an uncomfortable glance. “We will be fine.” Peeta says smiling. “If you leave it in my hands, I’ll take of it. You go ahead and go to the hotel. No sense letting it go to waste.”

  Katniss nods. “I trust you, Peeta.”

  “Promise? After everything you still trust me?”

  Katniss presents her pinky finger. “We have to start somewhere. Why not now?”

  He links his pinky with hers.

  Peeta comes into the room quietly, dejected. Not even enjoying the beauty of the place.

  Katniss is already in bed in a thin sleep gown that leaves little to the imagination and no undergarments to tangle with. She pulls the sheets all the way up to her chin, feeling her heart stutter in her chest. Somehow she wants to feign sleep, but one look at his face, and she knows there’s no use.

  Peeta disrobes quietly, he blows out a candle and lower the flame of the oil lamp on her side of the bed. He’s down to his under trousers when he moves to the bed. He lingers at the foot for a second, but moves back to Katniss’ side instead of his. He sits at the very edge of the mattress with his lap covered by the corner of the heavy quilt, he sheds the last piece of clothing he wears, letting it fall carelessly to the floor

  Katniss tenses, but peels back the covers enough for him to climb in bed. She puts up no resistance when he maneuvers to hover on top of her body. Carefully, he inches his right knee between both of hers to support his weight; the bottom of her gown rides up her thighs making her all too aware of their situation. A moment later Peeta brings the other knee between her thighs as well and hisses in pain, wincing.

  “Peeta, take off the prosthesis. You’ll be more comfortable without it. I can help with it.”

  “No,” whispers stubbornly. “I don’t want you to have to fuck a cripple man.” He gasps in pain. “I don’t want you to see me like that.”

  Her fingers caress his face gently. “Oh, Peeta, I don’t think of you as a cripple, but I’ve already seen you without your leg.” She blushes, “I’ve seen all of you, to be honest.”

  Peeta frowns, but let’s his left leg fall to the mattress. “You’ve seen me naked?” He asks rising one eyebrow.

  Her blush deepens. She nods. “I had to. I was your nurse for about week and half. I gave you daily sponge baths, you know.”

  “Well, if that doesn’t kill the mood, then I don’t know what would.”

  “Don’t think of it that way. I’m not trying to emasculate you. I thought you knew. Besides… your equipment seemed to be in top notch working condition every time I had to handle it. You even mumbled my name a couple of times… it made me feel… wanted.” She says hiding her face into his chest.

  “You touched me in my sleep? And you… enjoyed it? I feel so violated!” He chuckles at her embarrassment. He gently pushes apart her thighs with his right knee, she widens the space willingly, and he sits sideways to undo the fastenings of his fake leg.

  With her help, they have it off in a moment, after which he just stares at her scantily short nightgown. He’s momentarily dumbstruck.

  “You looked beautiful in your wedding clothes.” He stutters.

  “But you like this outfit better?” She smirks with a burning blush.

  His eyes caress her form and then his hands slide up her thighs slowly, uncovering her skin inch by inch. She moves her arms straight above her head, to aid him in removing the gown completely.

  He swallows audibly, his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “I think I like no outfit way better, no offense to Miss Portia and Mr. Cinna.”

  Katniss does something she hasn’t done in ages. She giggles. “Now we’re even… do please bring the covers back, it’s a bit chilly.” She says rubbing her arms.

  Peeta can’t stop looking at the rosy, puckered, nubs of her breasts until she shivers. He falls back on his hands, positioned at each side of her head. Once he’s brought the sheets back up to cover them both, he lowers himself to his elbows, his body warm and so much bigger than hers, cradled between her thighs.

  “Hey, I really don’t care if you see… ‘me’.” He says quietly twirling a loose strand of her dark hair around his finger, “I like seeing you too.” A moment passes, then he adds. “I never thanked you for taking care of me while I was hurt. I’m sorry I was such a nightmare when I finally woke up. I wish I had been in a better place mentally and emotionally. You were a perfect angel and I was horrible to you.”

  “It’s in the past.” She says looking up at him.

  Peeta sighs and shakes his head. “We’ve made a mess out of things haven’t we?”

  “We can’t dwell on that anymore.”

  “I know. We have bigger issues to attend to right now.” His blue eyes look nervously into her gray ones. “I’m sorry, Katniss. I tried to reason with Seneca. But his options went from bad to worse with my every rejection. We finally settled on one that although invasive, won’t be performed with Seneca in the audience.”

  Katniss shivers in disgust. “What’s the new caveat?”

  “You’ll have to get a gynecological exam, performed by a doctor of Seneca’s choosing, and they will confirm you have had intercourse recently. They’ll check for babies too, though I doubt it’ll be possible to determine so soon.”

  Katniss digs her face into his chest again. Peeta  holds his weight off her frame. Still, their skins touch everywhere, warm and soft, tingling in anticipation, flushing and waking up secret nerve ends they never had reason to know existed. Her nipples press to his chest, and suddenly both their bodies are covered in goose flesh.

  “So, they’re not coming in to watch you enter me then?” Katniss tries to confirm. Her fingers wrap around his strong arm muscles tentatively… Oh! It feels good, so impossibly good, to be under his weight this way.

  He shakes his head, kissing her temple. “No one will be peeping. I told them we’re not in the Middle Ages. They couldn’t just ask to watch us make love… nobody’s first time should be that way.”

  “Thank you,” She says gratefully.

  He takes a deep breath. “We do have to save tonight’s sheets. They want to see the mess we leave behind.”

  “Such perversion! Aren’t we already married? Why isn’t that enough for them?” Katniss asks indignant, she’s so worked up she shifts under his weight, making their bodies slide and press together in different places.

  Peeta’s member rubs the place where her inner thigh meets her cleft and they feel the friction wake a type of hunger they’ve never had a chance to explore before.

  Peeta groans, just as she gasps. His hips roll into her middle again of their own volition.

  “Katniss.” Peeta’s voice is almost a whisper against her warm cheek. “I have something to tell you. I’ve never done this before, so I’m probably not going to last very long. Please don’t judge my performance too harshly. I’ve been dreaming about doing this with you since I was old enough to learn about carnal urges.”

  “We’ll work together!” Says Katniss smiling sweetly. Her fingertips drawing circles over his biceps. “Is not like I have anything to compare your performance with. I don’t have much experience either, only what my friend Madge told me about laying with a man, and a very awkward talk with my mother when we were sixteen.” Katniss laughs burying her forehead into his shoulder. “Mother saw us kissing in the garden the day father let us ride our horses on our own. We thought we were so subtle… how naive!”

  He drags his lips to her ear. “We are not naive children anymore. We are about to do more naughty things than merely kissing in the meadow. I’m supposed to be readying you for me. I don’t want to hurt you, so… um… can I… touch you? Kiss you, perhaps?” His hips roll into her again, making them both sigh.

  “I don’t know… kissing hasn’t been too safe for me. People tend to get angry when boys kiss me, and either lecture me about the birds and the bees or accuse me of being some kind of harlot.” She says pointedly.

  “Goddamnit, Katniss! Kiss me!” He doesn’t let her respond, his mouth is on hers, devouring her whole.

  She responds enthusiastically, her hands cradle his face while he brings a hesitant hand down her arm. In an effort to help him, she rotates her torso, but he misses the hint, so she grabs his hand and puts it on her eagerly awaiting breast.

  He’s never squeeze a tit before, he never allowed himself such liberties with her when they were young; and later he was too convinced no woman would want him, he never pursued anyone else. But now that his hand is kneading her soft, perfectly round mound in his hand, he wants to taste it. He suckles on her breasts like they are coated with ambrosia and he will die if doesn’t lick all of it off her skin.

  The sounds they make are obscene! Wanton and needy. He’s ready to burst, but every word he’s ever heard from his brothers stick in his mind: “Be gentle but passionate. Make sure she’s sufficiently aroused, lubrication between the legs will make this loads easier and more pleasurable for everyone. A woman’s juices is the best dessert a man will ever taste.” and the such. He wants to do so much, but he can barely hold on to sanity as it is!

  “Katniss, I am going make sure you’re ready for me.”

  Katniss nods, perspiration clinging to her forehead. “Touch me, Peeta!” She keens.

  Peeta’s hand reaches between Katniss’ legs. He could die a happy man just dragging his fingers through the warm, wet, folds of his bride. “I have to penetrate you right now, Kitty.” He grunts against her lips.

  She wills her thighs further apart, and holds her breath in anticipation. Peeta takes himself in hand and growls, her arousal still on his fingers feels heavenly against his heated skin. It’s even better when the tip of his cock glides between her folds, and blindly seeks her entrance.

  Katniss moans at the sensation of his manhood there, teasing her. Her pelvis angles instinctively to guide his member home.

  It takes a couple of fumbling tries, but then he finds the place he fits in, and pushes right in, all the way to the hilt.

  Katniss gasps. All the breath pushed out of her lungs the deeper his length full her.

  “Peeta!” She whines, digging her nails into his shoulders. “Oh… Peeta, my love!”

  Peeta can’t hold back. He thrusts into her desperately, erratically. He’s placing sloppy kisses on her mouth, his hands planted by her head for fear of falling face first. Then without much warning, he’s moaning loudly while his seed spills in spurts deep inside Katniss.

  “Katniss!” He chokes back her name, “I’m going to take care of you now.” He rasps when he’s able to speak again.

  Katniss wants to ask what he means, but he pulls out of her body quickly, and throws off the blankets from their bodies. Those are only hindering his movements anyway. He balances on his leg stump and knee, until he sits with her legs splayed wide on the mattress. His eyes roam over her nude form, greedily, lustful, and ravenously.

  His fingers pull her folds apart. “Oh, darling… you look glorious, dripping wet, with load fulls of my seed escaping your depths.”

  Katniss doesn’t think Peeta is actually talking to her, since his eyes are fixated on her womanhood.

  “There are traces of blood. That’s good, Kitty,” He says looking up at her. He sees the same lecherous shine in her eyes he’s sporting.

  “Then let it stain the sheets, husband. We don’t want to disappoint Seneca or Grandfather.”

  “I don’t care about them right now. I’m going to make you scream in pleasure now. You tell me if this feels good, because I only know this on a theoretical level.”

  She nods.

  The fingers of his other hand caress her along the slit, her hips adjust at the touch. His sinks one finger inside the place his penis just vacated, and the action brings forth a reaction. She gasps and bucks into his touch, he starts pumping his finger in and out of her, his thumb accidentally bumps the very top of her cleft, and then she really gives him something to work with.

  They spend the next twenty minutes exploring her womanhood. Using his release as lubrication, but she’s producing her own juices copiously. Out of curiosity, he takes a lick of the sticky film, and she sings his name like he’s never heard before. He’s hard again, so he asks if he can have one more time. She practically cries when he enters her, and this time they fall apart together.

  ————-

  The next morning, they present Seneca with truly filth sheets, and the man finds the notion so hilarious, he waves the doctor examination. It’s obvious, Peeta claimed his wife more than once by they awkward way she moves anyway.

  “Our contracts, sir.” Demands Peeta not amused by Seneca’s uncalled commentary.

  “Very well. Here you go. The Mellarks and Everdeens owe Grandfather Snow nothing more. This generation is free and financially secure.”

  “Thank you, sir. Now if you excuse us. We have a life to build from the ashes. One that’s real and free of manipulative relatives.” Says Katniss glaring at the man. “We hope to never see you again, sir, we expect to be the last people Grandfather Snow gets to tries to use for his amusement.”

  Peeta nods in agreement.

  They just look at each other, and walk out of the hotel hand in hand.

  “So what do we know?” She asks meekly.

  Peeta takes her face in his hand. “I just want to spend every minute o the rest of my life with you. Making up for all the heartache I caused.”

  She sees hope in those blue eyes she’s known since she can remember. Eyes full of promises and humility. Eyes she trusted when she was a child, she reckons she can trust him again now, he’s not going anywhere anymore.

  They kiss sweetly, breathing each other in, and swap shy smiles.

  “Come on then!” She links her arm through his elbow, and they walk under the shining sun towards a promising future.

#Springtime Edition 2019 #submission #aliswell 21 #prompt 76

[mymoonjin1]

My thoughts on Crimes of Grindelwald

I know there are loads of comments on this already but I too need to rant for a while. I’ll try to finish this off with some constructive criticism, though. (I’d like to add that it’s perfectly fine if you did enjoy this film, this is just MY opinion.)

I don’t even know where to start. Listen, I am a huge Harry Potter fan, always have been, even considering a tattoo. And I actually really liked the first Fantastic Beasts movie. It had its flaws, but overall it was a good story. But most importantly: the movie can stand on itself. It has its own plot. Newt arrives in New York and accidentally lets loose a few magical creatures. The goal: finding the creatures whilst figuring out who is causing the muggle attacks. Simple, fun. They mention Hogwarts and Dumbledore, stuff we’re familiar with, but not overly so. It’s done cleverly. Now. Cut to Crimes of Grindelwald. Oh, boy. From uncomfortable close-ups to just plain weird editing this film is a goddam mess, not to mention the nonsensical storylines. No matter how effing cute nifflers are. Let’s break it into themes. 

Grindelwald

The movie ended and I still had no idea what Grindelwald’s crimes were. He “escapes” (He had already switched places with Abernathy, so why was that whole scene even there? A dark, evil wizard like him surely would just call Abernathy's sacrifice necessary for the cause or whatever), his French sidekick kills a family in order to keep their house and then he gives a speech. That’s it. What were his crimes?! He’s already a “notorious" dark wizard, what has he done besides spreading the word? Also, what is his actual ideology here? I’m sorry but that speech was a bit lame and again, confusing. Is he opposed to World War II or is he gonna take advantage of it? Kill all muggles or only those responsible for the war? But most importantly, we see Grindelwald for like ten minutes during the whole movie, why is his name even on the freaking title? I liked when he held his wand like he was directing an orchestra whilst killing everyone with the blue fire. That’s pretty much it.  Also, I’m not getting into Johnny Depp’s controversy cause that’s a whole other issue, but I think it reflected on his performance, like he was being too cautious, or something, at least that was my perception. I mean, whatever the circumstances, you’re already playing the role, then play the goddam role. 

Queenie

*Sigh* I honestly do not understand how they managed to turn a sweet and caring character into this whiny and annoying person, doing things so out of character. The love potion crap. Are you freaking kidding me?! Why was this necessary? Never mind about Jacob’s consent when I can just roofie him, kidnap him and force him to marry me! I’m the victim here, I just want to marry the one I love! Just… whyyyy? Also, she’s a freaking mind reader. How could a mind reader get brainwashed into joining a dark wizard? Because he preaches... free love? Ummm, does he?! Also, why did she freak out on the street? It was never mentioned before that her mind could get overwhelmed in crowds. It would make sense, but it was so out of nowhere it came out weird, and that scene just takes too damn long. Then the movie forgets about her for like twenty minutes to suddenly show her at the French witch’s house, like sure, I’ll go for a cup of tea with a total stranger, why not? Ugh. 

Dumbledore 

Ok, I actually liked Jude Law’s performance. The issue is that he, just like Grindelwald, is barely in the movie. We already knew that their relationship wasn’t going to be explored in this film, but it was still disappointing. We only got a “we were closer than brothers” and some hand-holding seen through the Mirror of Erised, WHICH APPARENTLY CAN NOW SHOW MEMORIES TOO, BUT OKAY. And please explain to me how is a blood pact different from an Unbreakable Vow? I get the aesthetic but surely an Unbreakable Vow is more convenient since it can’t be undone. Dumbledore suggested at the end of the movie that he might be able to destroy the blood pact. Wouldn’t have Grindelwald made sure to not leave anything to chance? Also, when did they make this blood pact, before the duel that killed Ariana? Why were they able to duel then? It can’t have been after, they wouldn’t have been exactly on speaking terms after that. That blood pact storyline took away the complexity of Dumbledore’s motives about not wanting to go after Grindelwald. Why wasn’t it enough that he once loved him and couldn’t bear to confront him after all that happened between them? That was a perfectly good explanation. This whole thing completely downplayed their relationship, like “yeah, now I just need to figure out how to destroy this necklace and I’ll be free to duel and possibly kill him, yay!” *Sighs*

Leta and Yusuf

What was the real purpose for these characters? We were lead to believe that the Lestrange family history was going to have this awesome revelation/plot twist and it ended up going nowhere. Also, the (insufferably long) scene where they finally explain the whole thing was so overcomplicated and confusing AF. For some reason, Leta’s dad (a rapist) sent her and her half-brother to the US, but since the baby wouldn’t shut up Leta switched him with another baby who happened to look exactly like him, and that baby was Creedence. Uh…okay? But then Leta returned to the UK and studied at Hogwarts? Sooo was that meant to be only a cool summer abroad? And how did she know about her half-brother Yusuf? How did they meet? Who made that freaking prophecy? Yusuf made that unbreakable vow with… whom, exactly? Himself? Arrgggg. Yusuf seemed to be an important character, I mean he locks Tina and Newt in a dungeon (they escape immediately but ok), but no. He spends almost the entirety of the movie unconscious only to appear conveniently at the cemetery to reveal he’s Leta’s half-brother. Just. Why ANY OF IT if later on we’d find out Creedence isn't even a Lestrange? GOD. 

So, back to Leta. She switched the babies (in the Titanic?) and also befriended Newt at Hogwarts. What was her relevance in the present? Why wasn’t the whole "ending up marrying his brother" explained? That’s a flashback that would’ve been useful, unlike the other ones. It could’ve added so much more to the relationship between the three of them, specially Theseus and Newt. But it was never mentioned. Also, why was she hated by everyone at school? Were all the Lestrange hated or was it only her? And THEN, FFS what was she even trying to attempt when she approached Grindelwald? Was she like tempted into joining him but regretted her decision last minute and tried to kill him instead? WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT ALL ABOUT? I liked the part when she said “I love you” and you’re not quite sure if she meant Newt or his brother. That was interesting. Would’ve been even more interesting had it been developed properly. But the rest of it? What a mess.

Newt, Tina, and Jacob

I actually adore Newt as a character. He’s a refreshing male lead who’s unapologetically himself throughout the story. I read a Vox article that called him amazingly neurodivergent, and in an interview, Redmayne also said he thought of him as having Asperger's. What an extraordinary thing to see in a male lead in a multimillion-dollar franchise! He’s awesome and doesn’t need to change the way he is in order to be cool. And yet in this film, he’s sooo relegated. He could’ve done SO much more, instead, he’s just lost in the sea of subplots with no real purpose. As for Tina, she has absolutely no character development whatsoever and Jacob is just there for comic relief. Also, how did he get his memories back? I’m sorry, but “the potion only took away the bad memories” is lazy writing. They are great characters but did absolutely nothing in this movie. Totally underappreciated. 

Nagini and Creedence

I don’t get why they made such a fuss over this since she has like THREE lines in the entire movie?! Seriously, why was she even there? She brought absolutely NOTHING to the plot. She just stands there next to Creedence when she could’ve been a super badass character. I’m not getting into the whole controversy, but I mean, if it was already happening, she should’ve at least had a kickass introduction. A backstory. ANYTHING. Why is a woman turning into a snake a circus attraction when anyone in this universe can become an animagus with enough practice? She was sooo mistreated here as a character. I get that there’s gonna be three more movies but COME ON, you can’t just make a huge ass preamble to another film without ANY sort of character development. It needs to have a plot of its own too. Like each of the Harry Potter books/movies. GEEZ. Now, Creedence. How did he survive? We saw a little remnant of the obscurus at the end of the first film, but hey, a little more context would’ve been nice. I thought the host and the obscurus were different things. Care to explain?! Also, how did he end up in Europe working at a magic circus? That circus thing could’ve been a very interesting plot but it goes nowhere. Again. And then... the ending. I hope the theory going around that it’s actually Ariana’s obscurus that somehow got attached to him and not actually him that’s a Dumbledore (and that’s what the phoenix was attracted to) is real because otherwise IT DOESN’T MAKE ANY SENSE. Kendra Dumbledore died in 1899. Crimes takes place in 1927. That’s 28 years. I HIGHLY doubt Creedence is 28. Why would he still be living at an orphanage at 28 then? Or did Dumbledore’s dad knock someone up in Azkaban? Just. So. Many. Plot. Holes.

Nonsensical stuff

-The lady guarding Leta’s chamber. What. The. Fork?! She lets them through even though she clearly knew Tina wasn’t Leta, and only after they’re already inside she unleashes those weird cat things with Leta being there, the actual owner of the chamber who clearly doesn’t have a problem with the “intruders”. Just… WHY? 

-Jacob being able to go through the statue. Ummmm?! 

-McGonagall. SHE WAS BORN IN 1935! WHAT?!

-Also, I get the whole 1920’s vibe and I mean no disrespect towards Colleen Atwood, because the costumes are actually gorgeous, but like… no robes? NONE? You can’t tell muggles and wizards apart. That was a key aspect of Harry Potter, at least with the older generations, so you’d think in the 1920’s they’d be even more traditional with their wizard clothing. I mean, Lupin wore both suits AND robes. Just saying. 

-Out of hundreds of people at the cemetery, the niffler somehow knew precisely what item to steal and from whom. Ok???? 

-Nicholas Flamel. What was the point of him? All he did was talk with a random woman through a book and then conveniently appear at the end to tell everyone what to do to control the fire. I mean, cool, but care to elaborate?

-And that blue fire eagle thing. It’s a very, very long sequence that could have been way quicker. It was time wasted on CGI, time they could’ve spent more wisely elsewhere. 

-Another thing that has been rubbing me the wrong way is the mention of Creedence’s nanny being half-elf. I know it’s probably stupid for me to be weird about it but listen. This is a universe with house elves and goblins, and that’s totally fine, I like the part they play in the story. But then we also have Professor Flitwick, who’s never mentioned to be either of those things; he’s just little. That’s it. And he’s a total badass. So why did the nanny had to be half-elf? I remember an interview with Peter Dinklage in which he said he didn’t like playing roles that cast little people as magical beings, which is why he loved Tyrion in Game of Thrones. Then why couldn’t the nanny just be a regular witch? Why half-elf? How did that come about? Think about it: a human witch/wizard… with a house elf? Which are, essentially… slaves?! I don’t even want to know. And I’m probably overthinking it, but seriously. It wasn’t a necessary detail to mention. 

The Fanservice 

Ok, I get that they’d include certain Potter related stuff. Nostalgia is fun, right? AS LONG AS IT MAKES SENSE. McGonagall being there makes no sense. RESPECT. CANON. PLEASE. I get retconning stuff like classes taking place on different floors at Hogwarts but dude. This was kind of an important detail. The Philosopher’s Stone casually being shown at Flamel’s house. I mean, fine. But we get it, we know who he is, it’s not like we are idiots who need reminding of this. Also, the music. I adore Hedwig’s Theme, but this is a different story. I get like a few notes here and there, but the WHOLE damn theme during that Hogwarts shot? It actually kind of threw me off a little. I couldn’t pay attention to what was actually happening. 

Conclusion 

Ok. I honestly don’t understand what went wrong. I don’t know if Rowling should just stick to writing novels or if it was the editing, the directing or-or… I just can’t even. JK Rowling is amazing at writing mystery. In all of the Harry Potter books, there were mysteries to be solved: who’s after the Philosopher’s Stone? Who opened the Chamber of Secrets? Why is Sirius Black after Harry? Who put his name in the Goblet of Fire? And so on. And in the first FB movie, the mystery was who was responsible for the attacks, and it made you believe it was Creedence’s little sister. That was still a good plot twist. Please, do tell, what was solved in Crimes? What did they actually accomplish? They spent the whole movie going in circles. Like I said, you can’t just have a huge ass preamble to a different movie. It needs to stand on its own, have its own arc. Otherwise, what’s the point? I genuinely wanted to like this film, but its narrativity makes it impossible to enjoy the actual plot, even with likable characters and appealing visuals.

Listen, I will forever be grateful to JK Rowling for the impact Harry Potter has had in my life. They are to this day my favorite books. I loved the original book for Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, as well as Quidditch Through the Ages and Tales of Beedle the Bard. They added fun details to the main story, a little peek into the Wizarding World. But then the whole expansion happened. And I used to get mildly excited whenever a new story was published on Pottermore. But eventually, I lost interest. And whenever someone said “I wish there was another book” I immediately cringed at the thought. Why ruin something that had ended in such a perfect way? The Harry Potter world ended with the seventh book. And that was ok. You need to let things go. That’s life. But then for money some reason, Cursed Child (aka That Which Must Not Be Named) was allowed to happen. And then, Fantastic Beasts happened, but it was a whole different story with brand new characters within the same universe, actually written by JK Rowling. Well, that actually sounded promising. Because it was a separate thing. A few references here and there. What could go wrong? Right. 

There are millions of reasons why the expansion hasn’t been working, but I think part of the problem came from social media. When we were kids we’d send letters to our favorite authors, but now they are just a tweet away. Which can obviously be wonderful. But you have to know where to stop. And I don’t think JK understands that. And I don’t mean it like she’s not allowed to have her own opinions and versions of certain things that didn’t come up in the books; she created the universe. But altering canon isn’t right. Forcing narratives that don’t make sense with what’s already established is weird. That’s why it’s important to leave things to the imagination/each reader’s interpretation. You want to write a different story within the same universe, that’s amazing, go ahead! As long as it’s properly developed and has its own merits. I genuinely want to like FB. And I did. But I don’t know what went wrong with this one. You’re capable of SO much more, Jo, I know you are. Sorry if I’m being too harsh. 

#fantastic beasts #crimes of grindelwald #crimes of grindelwald spoilers #rant #opinion #fantastic beasts movie #fantastic beasts and where to find them #jk rowling #twoheartedslytherinwrites

[dolcresabernathy]

it’s time everyone woke up.

#dolores abernathy #doloresabernathyedit #caleb nichols #calebnicholsedit #engerraund serac #westworld #westworldedit #westworlddaily #evan rachel wood #erwoodedit #aaron paul #apauledit #my edits #gifs #my baby #best

[imagineclaireandjamie]

There hadn't been any chapters of the band au for a while, so how about Jamie and Claire meeting a certain Geneva, president of Jamie Fraser's fan club

We Live For Love 

Claire Fraser turned on her flashers and pulled on theparking brake.

 “I’ll be right back,” Jamie murmured in the passengerseat, ducking for a quick kiss before opening the door and jogging into theconvenience store.

 Claire stretched, sighing happily. It was just past sevenAM on the first day of a whole week off – and they were making the most of it.They had left their tiny apartment, picked up Jamie’s VW at the garage around thecorner, and made good time up the West Side Highway and into the Bronx. Somewherebetween two and three hours up the Taconic would land them in the picturesquetown of Rhinebeck – where a farmhouse dating from before the Revolution wastheirs, and theirs alone, for the next seven days.

 The tour had been going spectacularly well – sales of thelatest album were through the roof, earlier this year they had made their firsttour in Japan, and she and Jamie and the band had played to a sellout atMadison Square Garden last night. Any trepidation about their third album hadvanished with the first of dozens of positive reviews. Joe had encouraged themto be smarter with this tour – to say no to more dates, just because theycould. To build in days off and mini breaks. To stay sane.

 She watched a family of four pull up to the gas stationin a battered Buick stationwagon. The father got out – and so did a very littleboy, perhaps two or three. He hugged his father’s leg as he pumped the gas.

 Her hand drifted to her belly. Three months along – thankGod! – with their first child. More than three years of trying had led her toalmost lose hope. Only Jamie and her doctor knew – not even her manager, JoeAbernathy, let alone any of those suits at Chrysalis. One of the things that sheand Jamie needed to decide during this week was how to break the news – and whatthey would do, once the baby came.

 For they both craved a normal life. Stepping out of thespotlight. Not that the fans weren’t amazing – the countless girls who had huggedClaire during autograph sessions, eagerly describing how she had inspired themto make their own music; the dozens of up-and-coming guitar players that Jamiehad met and mentored since they had hit it big.

 But fame was a dizzying carousel. Fun for a short ride –but staying on too long made you sick.

 The hate mail. The death threats. The scantily-dressedwomen that local promoters in Detroit and San Antonio had had wait in Jamie’sdressing room – they always insisted on separate areas to prepare before aconcert. The man who had broken into their hotel room in London and waited,naked, on the bed until they returned from dinner.

 She smiled at the memory – at least *that* timequick-thinking Jamie had knocked him out cold before taking her downstairs tothe front desk. Times like that, it helped to have a famous name – the hotelmanager had profusely apologized, terrified of the negative publicity, andgratefully agreed to Jamie’s half-joking idea of the presidential suite.

 The fan club, on the other hand – those were more tame.Most of them, anyway – they devoured every issue of the fan magazine, snappedup the limited-edition copies of songs that she and Jamie recorded on a whim,had pressed privately, and distributed directly to the fans – to Chrysalis’constant consternation. Geneva Dunsany was the president – a perky, enthusiasticfan who at times appeared a bit too touchy-feely but on the whole seemedgenuine.

 It was Geneva’s idea – a rather good one, Claire had toadmit – to do the photoshoot for People magazine. Claire and Jamie Fraser –millionaire rockstars - home in the tiny apartment they had occupied in Alphabet City since before theywere married. Showing off their wall full of gold records, Jamie’s prizedguitars, the tiny upright piano he had bought Claire as a wedding present.Laughing as they crammed into Jamie’s 1965 VW Beetle to escape the madness ofthe city. Claire sitting on Jamie’s lap on the subway, both wearing sunglasses,kissing like mad.

 They were so, so happy.

 Finally, Jamie breezed out of the convenience store –clutching a tabloid, to-go coffee, and paper bag. She leaned over the passengerseat to open the door, and he slid in gratefully.

 “Did anyone recognize you?”

 She turned to face him – and froze. For his eyes werewide – pupils dilated. His hands trembled as they clutched the newspaper.

 “Claire?” His voice was so rough.

 “Jamie? You’re scaring me – ”

 “You know I love you, right?”

 “Yes,” she replied automatically. “I don’t understand – ”

 “And that it’s only been you since the day we met, right?And that I love you more than any man has ever loved a woman? Right?”

 “Jamie! What – ”

 “Here.” He thrust the newspaper into her shaking hands.

 MY NIGHT WITH JAMIE FRASER!

 The headline blared in three-inch letters.

 FAN CLUB PRESIDENT GETS TO PLAY WHILE HIS WIFE IS AWAY.

 All the breath left her chest.

 “Geneva,” Claire choked.

 “I have no idea what she’s going on about.” Now his voicewas deep, fierce. “I *knew* she was up to something. That she had some kind ofulterior motive in getting close to us.”

 Tears sprung to Claire’s eyes. “I – I…”

 Jamie pushed the paper to the ground and grabbed Claire’shands. “Look at me. Please.”

 She did. His thumb stroked her wedding ring.

 “You know it’s not true, Claire. You *know* I wouldnever, *ever* play you false. You know that, right?”

 “Yes,” she hiccupped. “I know. You don’t even need to sayit, Jamie.”

 Then he crushed her in a deep hug – the parking brake diggingpainfully into his back – but he didn’t care one bit.

 “I love you so much,” he whispered. “You and the baby. Iam so, so angry.”

 “Me too.” She inhaled the skin of his neck – right in thespot where she would always taste his sweat, right after a concert. “I’m so angrytoo. But we’ll figure it out. We always do.”

 He sighed, and they held each other for a very long time.

 “We need to make some phone calls,” she said after awhile.

 He pulled back just enough to brush the messy curls fromher eyes. “I guess Joe, right?”

 She nodded. “Let’s find a payphone. And then we’ll keepon driving. There’s nothing else we can do today.”

 “It will blow over, Claire.”

 “I know. I don’t even want to acknowledge it. I want tokick her out, and sue her ass until kingdom come.”

 Finally he smiled. “Yes.”

 “And then,” she swallowed, eyes dazzling. “Then – I wantto wait until I’m a few more months along. And then I want us to get naked infront of a camera, and show off our baby in my belly. Would you do that?”

 “Yes.” His eyes glowed with love and want and pride andadmiration. “Yes. Absolutely yes.”

 “Good.” She leaned over and he met her in a slow, sweet kiss.

 “Do you want me to drive?”

 “Hell no,” she teased, pulling on her seatbelt. “Let’sgo on a bit further. I think there’s a bigger rest stop not too far from here. Then we’llcall Joe – and then our vacation begins.”

 He buckled his seatbelt. “As my lady commands.”

 She turned off the flashers and put the car in drive. “Ilove you, Jamie.”

 He rested his hand on top of hers on the stick shift. “Ilove you, Claire.”

 Jamie turned the radio back on – and Van Halen’s “Panama”blared – and Claire pulled the VW onto the highway.

#;mod gotham #we live for love au

[wafflesetc]

House Hunters International: Outlander Edition

Obviously a crack!idea that has come to life. Yes, I do spend a wee too much time watching House Hunters, but who doesn’t. We’re going to go with this being an modern AU for our Jamie and Claire. Two little girls, Faith and Brianna as well. As of right now, this is going to be a 4 parter story because in house hunters we always get the little background into the family, then they tour three different properties, and then we see them living happily ever after in the house that they chose. So, I am planning to stick to that format as well. Shout out to @futurelounging and @bonnie-wee-swordsman for this crack!fic idea and helping me spawn off some thoughts to get this plot bunny into motion.

To say I was tired was an understatement. I had not washed my hair in nearly three days, slept more than a consecutive 4 hours in a row in four days and had not seen my husband in the daylight in almost five. Residency was going to be the actual death of me. I had vomit from a two year old with a pneumonia on my scrub bottoms, some lady’s blood from bed 4 on my scrub top, and I had iodine stains on my *new* converse shoes from the trauma that had made me go over my clock out time, by four and a half hours. It was now nearing two AM and as I closed my locker in the resident’s lounge and sat on the bench. I put my hands in my face and heard the door open. *What I would do for five minutes alone.* I thought to myself, contemplatively.

“What are you still doing here, Lady Jane?” I heard Joe Abernathy ask me. With a sigh of relief, I looked up and smiled at my dear friend.

“A trauma rolled in just as I was about to clock out. Being chief resident is going to be the death of me, Joe.”

“Maybe so, LJ. But I have to admit, you’re the only one who was even remotely equipped with the skill set to take those nails out of that man’s head. Aren’t you off for the next few days?” Joe asked as he took off his lab coat and hung it on his locker, right across from mine.

“I am off for four, glorious days. I can’t wait to kiss my husband and get no sleep because of toddlers. And have a pager that is going to stay permanently off.” I replied as I turned my pager off. “But we’re finally going house hunting. I can’t handle a 1100 square foot flat with two toddlers and being on the third floor. Between strollers, diaper bags, groceries, and lack of sleep, both Jamie and I have decided we need to move to a bigger place.”

“Ah.” Joe laughed as he washed his hands in the sink. “I remember hunting for our first house. We thought we were on the same page with what we wanted out of a house and then we looked at the first three and well… The wife and I wanted very different things.”

I had to laugh, that was the feeling I was expecting to happen with me and Jamie as well. “I have a feeling that is what my experience is going to be like. And I don’t know who will back down first, me or Jamie.”

Joe sat down next to me, patting me on the shoulder. “Well, marriage is just a game of give and take, or being stubborn till you both get what you want. We found that when we walked into the house, it just felt like home. Don’t fret, LJ. You’l find the place you’re meant to raise your red headed Frasers. I promise.”

I smiled at him, standing up and grabbing my bag. “Thanks, Joe. Now I’m going home to kiss my husband and hopefully spend some time with him before one of my spawns decides to wake up before dawn.”

As I got home, I quietly peered into the second bedroom and looked at the girls, asleep in their cribs. I dropped my bag on the couch and crossed the room to our bedroom. I opened the door to find Jamie in his usual starfish position. I slipped out of my scrubs and threw on my pajamas. I pulled the duvet down and started to slide into my side of the bed, as to try and not wake Jamie up. I quietly gasped as I felt his cold hands on my the sides of my hip.

“Jamie!” I said, in almost a whisper.

“There ye are.” Jamie said as he pulled me on top of him, slowly undoing my pajama bottoms. “I have missed ye.”

Having seen not nearly enough of my redheaded husband, I kissed him on his bare chest. “Are you sure you want to do that, I smell like a sterile hospital and I haven’t washed my hair since I bathed the girls before my shift the other day, and I’m pretty sure you’re exhausted because—”

I was cut short by Jamie’s mouth overcoming mine. He kissed me slowly, shimmying my pajama bottoms off. I could feel his cold feet kick them off the bed and onto the floor. I smiled into his kiss, pushing my hips down onto his.  

“Eager as well, are ye?” Jamie said as I felt him grab my elbows and roll us over so he was on top. “Ye do smell like a hospital, Claire. But I havena seen ye in almost five days. I need ye and I need ye, badly.”

I grabbed the top of his boxers pushing them off his hips.

“You do need me badly.” I laughed as I pulled his head down to mine.

“I’m tired of sharing ye with the hospital. Tonight, it’s just me and you, mo nighaen donn.” Jamie said as he slowly started to slide himself home.

“Oh, GOD, I’ve missed you.” I squeaked as he pushed my hips down into the mattress setting the rhythm. Jamie was slow and steady, taking his time, throughly showing me how much he had missed me. And when he slowed himself even slower for a minute, he cusped my face with his right hand bringing my attention to him for a moment, and was holding himself steady above me with his left hand.

“Ye need to stop making so many squeaky noises, Sassenach. Yer gonna wake the lassies up. Drywall in the new house, these plaster walls are not going to cut it.” Jamie said sternly. I laughed and kissed the hollow on his neck. I reached up grabbing his ass pulling him back down so his full weight was on me.

“Yes, master.” I playfully replied. “Wait till we can christen every surface in what will be our home.”

I felt Jamie smile into my curls, but as he started to move at a more erratic pace I was blissfully sent into oblivion.

I woke up to an empty bed. Not surprising, I thought to myself, Jamie knew I needed the sleep and I figured he got up with Faith and Brianna. I walked over to the closet, grabbing my robe and wrapping myself in the blue fleece.  I quickly made the bed and tried to brush the birds nest on top of my head but settled for throwing it up in some sort of a messy bun.

As I made my way to the door, I heard the soft giggles of Bree and I heard Faith yapping some nonsense to Jamie. I smiled. *God it was so good to be off for a few days.* I walked down the hallway to the smell of pancakes and butter. I watched as Jamie flipped one over and then turned to settle Bree in her highchair, feeding her a scoop of something orange.

“MAM!” Faith squealed as she ran into my arms.

“Hi baby!” I muttered as I scooped her up into my arms. “What’s da making you for breakfast?”

“Pwancakes! With sprinkles today too. Da says we gonna go shoppin for some fin later today!” Faith said as she stuck her syrupy hands on my face.

“Faith.” I heard Jamie say as he took the rag from the counter and wiped her hands. “I told ye not to touch anything until ye washed that syrup off your hands.” 

“Don’t burn the pancakes, Jamie.” I said as I took the rag from his hands. “I’ll take the girls. Let’s eat and get ready. I told Joe we’d drop them off at noon and we’re meeting with Mrs. Crook at 12:45 to go over what we want and don’t want in a place.” 

Jamie huffed and smiled as he turned back to the stove. “As ye wish, Sassenach.” 

“I canna believe we are bairn free for a whole day.” Jamie said as he pulled into the realtor’s office parking lot.

“I can’t believe we’re both off and finally looking for a bigger place. If I step on one more teething toy when I get home from a shift, I am going to go bonkers!” 

Jamie laughed as he opened my door and handed me my coat. “Well, Sassenach, ye are already as ye say, bonkers. Ye married a Fraser.” 

“I sure did, didn’t I?”I said as I pulled him into the office.

Mrs. Crook’s office was warm and welcoming. A fair yellow on all the walls, a tiny desk with a computer and three big chairs. 

“Och! That must be the Frasers!” Mrs. Crook called from the back room. “I shall be with the two of ye in just a moment!” 

“Take yer time.” Jamie said as he took a seat in one the chairs. I quietly walked around the office, taking stock of all the pictures of families on the wall with their ‘sold’ signs. 

“That will be the two of ye verra soon!” I heard from behind me as Mrs. Crook showed up with a pile of folders. “Let’s sit down and go over your must have lists, aye? Then narrow it down from there.” Mrs. Crook led me over to her desk. “Och. And ye must be Mr. Fraser. I have heard nothing but good things, mister!” 

“James Fraser.” Jamie said as he stuck his hand out to Mrs. Crook. 

“Mrs. Crook.” She replied happily and then took her seat. 

Jamie smiled and took my hand in his. 

“First home?” Mrs. Crook asked. 

“Can ye tell?” Jamie asked with a large smile on his face. 

“Sure can, the two of ye look like yer in over yer heads a bit, but dinna fash. I shall find ye the home of yer dreams. But first, we must go over what ye want and what ye willna want.” 

Jamie let out a breath and sat back in his chair. “Claire’s commute has to be shorter than 30 minutes. I would like as much land as we can. Something around 7 or 8 acres, if possible. And weel, preferably something with dry wall over plaster walls because.” I felt Jamie’s hand tighten on mine and saw the red flare on the tips of his cheeks.  “Och, Claire likes to make squeaky noises when she’s in bed with me and Brianna is a light sleeper. You dinna want to wake a sleepy, cranky, red heided Fraser baby.” 

“Jamie.” I said as I took my hand from out his grasp. “Mrs. Crook probably does not need to hear about that.” 

Mrs. Crook laughed and smiled. “Dinna fash yerself, that is a verra reasonable request. And Mrs. Fraser what are yer requirements?”

I took a deep breath and gave Jamie a look. Two can play this game. 

“Something a bit modest. A bit bigger than 1100 square feet, maybe around 2400 square feet. I’m not too picky. Although, I do love some good oak floors. My absolute must haves though would be a three bed two bath place. That’’s the minimum.” I said as I took one of the folders Mrs. Crook placed in my direction. I smiled and opened it. “And definitely dry wall, not plaster. Jamie likes to say ‘Oh, God’ and I don’t want a cranky Fraser myself.”

Mrs. Crook handed Jamie a folder and laughed. “Weel, that means newer construction for sure, if ye really want the dry wall. If not, sounds like ye’d have yerself TWO cranky Fraser’s Claire, and I willna lie, a cranky Jamie might be worse.”

Jamie laughed as he took the folder from her hands and opened it. “Ye best believe it.” He muttered under his breath.

Mrs. Crook put her hands down on the desk grabbing both our attentions. “So, it sounds to me like ye need a 3 bed 2 bath place, minimum. A decent amount of land, newer construction and preferably as close as we get Claire to the hospital but not too close to the city, aye?” 

I smiled and reached for Jamie’s hand, intertwining our fingers. “That sounds exactly like what we need.” 

“Weel, I have three different properties in mind. What do ye say we go look at the first one today?” Mrs. Crook said as she grabbed her purse from off the desk. 

“Ye lead the way, Mrs. Crook. The Frasers are yers for the day.” Jamie said as he squeezed my hand in return. 

“We must be off then, this first one is the furthest away!” Mrs. Crook said as we all stood up, Jamie and me following close behind her. 

“You two just follow me in your car. It’s about a thirty minute drive from here.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” I said as I grabbed the keys from out of Jamie’s hands. “I’m driving.” I shouted to Jamie as he slid into the passenger seat. 

As sleep deprived as I was, I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face and neither could Jamie.

#Outlander #outlander fan fiction #jamie x claire #jamie fraser #claire fraser #house hunters: outlander edition #outlander au #omfg #I can't believe I am actually doing it #but HERE YA GO #omfg I need to feed myself now #*runs off and hides*