#i could never trust myself enough to open a parachute..

[jointhefreckles]

.first date.

.

>> so, tell me something about you

>> i was born here, 30 years ago. i grew up in an emotionally abusive family. i developed an eating disorder, social anxiety, and emotional dysregulation. i’m in therapy.

i had a dog as a child, named chip. he died when i was 9. i developed trust and relationship issues. i have a cat now. cats live longer. his name is dale.

i’ve never been in a relationship. you can’t call getting laid in a regular manner followed by not so regular morning-after breakfasts a relationship. i don’t.

i lost my virginity in high school with my ski instructor. i loved him. for him it was just another of many shags. i didn’t like it, though.

in the aftermath i tried to numb the rejection pain with casual sex with classmates. i didn’t love them, but liked the sex - a lot.

i’m a big noodles lover. i could live only on pasta. and wine. still and all the remains of common sense make me have a more balanced diet. i avoid eating anything with a face that can observe me during the meal. cream soups make me sick. i have gluten intolerance and an allergy to strawberries. i don’t eat brown m&m’s ’cause i find them ridiculous.

i prefer mountains to beaches. snow to sand. sweater weather to a bikini body. fancy campfires on a beach, though.

crowded places are not my thing. unless it’s a harry styles’ concert.

i jumped with a parachute once. luckily it opened. out of joy i spread my legs open for the instructor. now it feels like an inherent part of the procedure - the next step right after opening the parachute. i have never jumped again since.

i numb myself with alcohol. wine is my drug of choice. prosecco when i feel festive.

i have been attending addicts anonymous meetings for the last six years. sex addiction. or compulsive sexual behavior disorder, as i should properly call it. i’m not allowed to sleep with the attendees, but i’m not flawless. a relapse is a natural part of recovery.

i have never watched “star wars.” i know lines from “friends” by heart. i blame disney for my fucked up idea of ​​men.

i’ve been in love more often than not. i prefer it this way than to die and not love at all.

i never throw away single socks. i just pair them randomly. isn’t it the same with human relationships?

but enough about me. how about you? are you ready to lose it with me?

.

#love stories #short stories #writeblr #writers #writers of tumblr #first date #love story #short story #story time

[duskypinkbow]

He did look really good didn’t he 😍 also I’m just trying to distract my self with his looks so I don’t cry 😂 😫

He did!! 🥰 And he looked so happy when he was skydiving!! Scared.. but happy.. loved it 🙌🏼

#i could never trust myself enough to open a parachute.. #never.. #but daaaamn guys skydiving is fucking fun #i went skydiving.. 3 1/2 years ago and DAAMN #immediately wanted to do ir again #answerd #anon #love u!!

[scapegrace74-blog]

New Ways of Turning Into Stone, Chapter 7

A/N  For anyone waiting patiently for this chapter, I apologize.  Somewhere in the midst of writing this story, I fell out of love with it, making it very hard to find the inspiration to finish. I’m too stubborn to abandon it, though, so here is the final chapter.  The good news is the angst fest is over, for the most part.  Slight reference to child trafficking in the past.  Thanks to everyone who read and interacted with this story!  This final chapter is entitled A Dragonfly in Amber.

The whole story can be found on my A03 page.

Eighteen Months Later

The breeze off the firth was picking up, and Claire wished she’d grabbed a  jumper before leaving her flat.  She spent a lot of time these days looking back at the million decisions that made up a life, aware of their path as though they were footprints visible to the eye.  Where once missteps would have inspired judgement or shame, she could now chart their passage with a certain measure of peace.

A rare free Thursday brought her to a seasonal market in what was otherwise a car park overlooking Edinburgh Castle.  With no specific objective in mind, she wandered the stalls of fresh produce and locally made crafts, meandering but purposeful.  A jar of raw honey and a half-dozen blueberry scones made their way into her tote bag before she stopped at a store selling beautifully woven woolen goods, thinking that she could perhaps invest in a shawl.

Lifting the various offerings from where they were displayed, something caught her eye.  Beneath the many-patterned pile of wool stood a beautiful wooden chest, its heft and patina speaking of its craftsmanship.   It had been painted in a rusted umber, the shape of a dragonfly elegantly carved into its solid lid.

“Tis lovely, is it no’?” a soft lilt startled her from her trance.

“Yes, very.  Is it for sale?”  She had no idea why she’d asked.  Her flat was crowded enough as it was and frivolous purchases no longer within her budget.

“Alas, no.  Twas an anniversary gift from my man.”  Perhaps seeing the disappointment register on her face, the woman added, “I can give ye the card o’ the man who made it, at least.  Ye’re no’ the first tae have admired his work.”

Claire’s hands shook slightly as the shopkeeper sought out the card, an eerie sense of premonition settling over her.  Sure enough, the familiar names leapt into relief as she accepted the woman’s offering:

Lallybroch Furniture Design

James Fraser, Proprietor

***

The afternoon and evening passed in a blur of obligations and routine.  It was only as she settled into the peace of her own bedroom that Claire allowed her thoughts to return to the business card tucked safely into her wallet.  

She’d known Jamie was still in the city.  While she’d resisted the urge to seek him out a thousand times, she couldn’t stop herself from searching his name on the Internet.  A harmless indulgence, she rationalized, and one that assured her that he was well, his business going from strength to strength. Despite the capitol’s tight-knit community, however, their paths had never crossed.  Until now.

Was it a sign?  Long Ago Claire paid no heed to such foolishness, but that was before a chance encounter spun her life one hundred and eighty degrees, sending her down a brand new path.  Now she accepted these memos from the universe with humility.  Tomorrow, she would go looking for Jamie Fraser.

***

Jamie heard the jingle of the bells above the door, even over the mechanical whirr of his sander.  Unbending and blowing a sweaty curl off his forehead, he admired the intricate scrollwork of the custom hutch that was his latest commission.  It still amazed him to watch his visions take shape before his eyes.  If life hadn’t slapped him hard across the face, knocking him far off course, he might have spent the rest of his days unaware of the gift that resided between his hands.

“Took ye long enough, Geordie,” he called out to the footsteps approaching from the door.  “Where’d ye go fer the varnish, Glasgow?”

There was a pause, and an eerie sense of premonition settled over him.  Today was going to be the day.

“It’s not Geordie, it’s me.  Claire.”  He’d thought of her voice each day for the past eighteen months, and yet he hadn’t been able to summon its exact timbre: sonorous, precise, with a smoky finish like well-aged whisky.

“Claire,” he replied to the universe, summoning her by name before he even turned around.

Sawdust motes danced in a sunbeam descending from a clerestory window, illuminating the mahogany in her curls.  She was everything he remembered, and so much more.  The nacre of her skin, now dusted with cinnamon freckles.  The topaz of her eyes less fierce, more open, and overwhelmingly anxious.  The tight line of her jaw was less defined, her once whippet-thin figure filled out into plush curves.  Overall the impression was one of softness, of willing vulnerability.

“The door was open,” she explained needlessly, her eyes drinking him in hungrily.  He wondered what changes she read on his surface.

“It’s... uhhh...” his voice wobbled painfully, “it’s good tae see ye, Sassenach.  How have ye been?”

He hadn’t trusted himself to seek her out since Maggie’s death, understanding that they both needed time to heal.  It didn’t stop him from zeroing in on every glimpse of brown curls, nor from reading wedding announcements with an invisible fist gripping his throat.  If it was meant to be, he counselled himself, they would find one another when the time was right.  And now she was here, standing in his workshop and more lovely than his zealous imaginings.

“Good,” she replied, eyes meeting and then sheering away from his gaze.  “Really good.  Busy.”  She was gripping the strap of her handbag like a parachute cord, and he couldn’t help glancing at her left hand, selfishly relieved to note it was still bare.

“I, ummm, I saw one of your pieces.  At the market yesterday.  Not for sale, of course.  The woman offered me your card, so I thought, you know, that I might...  You’re really very talented, Jamie,” she prattled nervously.

He blushed, delighted by her praise.  “I thank ye, Claire.”  To taste her name in his mouth, so long forbidden, was intoxicating.  He would never tire of saying it.

“And yer work?  Tis Friday.  Are ye taking a well-deserved day off?”

“Oh, no.  I’m not practicing anymore, Jamie.”

He froze, horrified.  Of all the scenarios he’d played out in his mind, he’d never imagined her anything but a doctor. It was too much a part of who she was.  A familiar sense of oppressive responsibility crept over him.  If he’d somehow caused this to happen...

“Sassenach, no...” he whispered.

To his utter confusion, she laughed, merry and bright as the bells that had announced her return to his life.

“It’s alright, truly.  I, well, a lot has changed since last year,” she explained, a glimmer of something coy transforming her face.  His wame sunk into his feet.

“Ye’ve met someone.”   A statement of fact.  Punishment for wishing for something that wasn’t meant to be.

Her spritely laugh rang out again, increasing his pain.  He felt the old, habitual hardening around his heart, and fought to keep his breath steady.  No matter how much it hurt, he owed it to Claire to listen to her joy.

“In a manner of speaking.  His name is Fergus, and he’s eight years old.”

Startled, he stared into her upturned face, trying to read the truth in her features.  A hand, delicate but strong, took his own.  He held onto it like a lifeline as she told her unlikely tale.

Shortly after their last meeting, Claire had been walking through Grassmarket when she’d been jostled by a running figure.  It was only upon righting herself that she realized she was without her phone.   Giving chase, she eventually cornered the thief down a blind alley, only to realize that it was a young boy, unkempt and malnourished.

Rather than turn the pickpocket in, Claire had negotiated an exchange: her phone for a four-course meal and the story of how a boy of his age, with a heavy French accent no less, had come to live on the streets of Edinburgh.

“He was trafficked, Jamie.  A group in Paris were keeping him and other orphans in a brothel.  When they came to transport them, Fergus escaped.  He hid in a lorry, and this is where it brought him.  He had no coat, no money, hardly any English, but he’d been surviving on his wits for six weeks before I found him.  I can’t bear to think what might have happened to him had we not crossed paths that winter’s day.”

“Christ,” he swore, thinking of his own nephew, and what he wouldn’t give to protect the lad’s innocence.

Claire went on to describe the painstaking process of reporting Fergus, whose real name was Claudel, to the authorities without allowing him to be deported back to France and into the waiting hands of the very people he had escaped.

“There was no formal steps to follow, no real resources I could rely on.  I ended up filing for adoption, because it was the only way to keep him safe.  In the beginning, he needed all my attention.  He had no formal schooling and had to learn English in a hurry.  He suffered from terrible nightmares.  I transferred all my patients, shut down the office, but I assumed it was only temporary, until he felt more secure and could go to school with other kids his age.  But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that Fergus isn’t the only trafficked child in Scotland.  I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t do whatever I could to protect every one of them.  So I quit.  I’d made some contacts at ECPAT in London, trying to sort out the mess with Fergus’ immigration paperwork.   I called them up and offered my services on a part-time basis.  A former pediatrician with experience in grief counselling.  They couldn’t accept fast enough.  So now, when I’m not busy being Fergus’ mom, I’m the executive director of ECPAT here in Scotland.”

“Christ,” he repeated.  “Sassenach, I’m...  God, ye’re an amazing woman.”

It was her turn to blush, glancing down to notice that their hands were still clasped, fingers woven together like thirsty roots.  They were standing toe to toe, breathing in harmony.  Jamie smelled of pine, a sharp sweetness that seemed to cling to his body.  She dared a look upwards and found his gaze locked on her mouth.  Oceans stormed in the depths of his eyes.

“You’ve got a little...” she reached for his jaw, “...a little something, right here...”  Before she could dislodge the fleck of sawdust trapped in his auburn stubble, Jamie’s whole body surged forward, their noses practically bumping.

“Sassenach...” he beseeched.

“Yes?”  Wispy, fluttering wings of hope surrounded her.

“I’ve bided as long as I can.  May I please, for the love of all tha’s holy, finally kiss ye?”

A tiny nod, a murmured assent, then their lips took up the conversation that had begun so many months before.  There, in a dusty workshop at eleven o’clock on a Friday morning, the last obstacle that stood between them came crashing to the ground.  In its place came warmth and certainty, a candleflame of cherished possibility. 

#my writing #outlander

[doubleshotofsomething]

Come Into My Life

Part one Part two ---

Song Prompt: “Entra en mi vida” by Sin Bandera

Warnings: swearing. That’s it. 

Author’s Note: so technology is finally cooperating with me. the remaining two parts will be out by midnight. which is in like...two hours here.

Summary: If the Horse won’t drink the koolaid. Then the Koolaid will drink the horse

--

“You seem to think this is something you can hide from.”

--

Part Three: Quiero que seas dueña de mi corazón

So...

Apparently...

The mountain decided to move out and stalk Muhammed.

Because, on your living room couch, sat the golden haired, blue eyed, mammoth of your self-proclaimed safety precaution.

"I hope you don't mind," Thor grins, hands stretched on the back of the couch. "I let myself in."

You blink at him. Once. Twice. Because, what the fuck?

"I used that bedroom window that you keep leaving unlocked."

You were on the penthouse floor of your apartment building. It was once owned by some millionaire that had trust issues when it came to banks, so their home security rivaled that of any Stark Industries offices. But then again, Stark Industries did create that security system.

So, you left your bedroom window unlocked. Because, unlike a certain ice capsule that slept through decades of technological advancements, you knew what a parachute looked like. You know, incase you needed to use a window on the top floor as an escape.

"I'm gonna pretend like I didn't just walk into my place, just to find you lounging around on my favourite couch, like you own the place--" You begin as you kick off your shoes. "--and then, I'm going to completely ignore the fact that your glorified knife is chilling on my coffee table, as if it contributed money when I was buying it. And then--"

"You're going to ignore my presence and hope I go away?" He cuts in, grin widening.

You glare. "You're a bad hair day on a work day piled up with meetings."

The grin falls off instantly and the purest look of confusion replaces it on his face. "Huh?"

"Get out of my house, Thunder Lord. I have super hero things to do." You sigh, taking off your coat and neatly folding it against the back of the chair.

You head into the kitchen, having expected him to be gone already, only to find him leaning against your fridge. Arms crossed and completely unmoving, Thor flashes you a grin.

"So--"

"--I said leave."

"I heard you," he nods. "Considered it for a moment, truly. But then, I recalled every attempt on your life since this world found out about you. I have to tell you, I had half a mind to take you away from this realm. Somewhere safer--"

He must have fallen and bumped his head, you're sure of it.

"--but this is your home. This is where you want to be and I could never hurt you like that. So, here I am." His grin widens, as if this is something to be proud of. "Your personal ironman suit. Here to stay, until all threats against you have been executed."

You narrow your eyes at him. "You mean eliminated."

He stares back. "No, executed. With an axe. Against the neck. Then they're head placed next to the external flame, or a spike, or hung on the walls of the living room--" he glances in the direction of said room. "--it could really use some colour."

"Hang on--" you blink. "--I think you're doing that thing again where you're telling me how to live my life and I tuned out. So, I might not have heard you correctly."

Sighing, Thor moves away from the fridge to stand in front of you. He gently cups your face in both hands, watching as your eyes widen -- because what the fuck? -- and gives you a gentle smile.

He knows you're not ready to hear what he has to say. He knows he can't force it all on you like this. But he can't sleep at night, not knowing if you actually made it to bed in one piece. And he can't always be there, watching over you, all the time. He'd love to, but he has work to do.

So, he chooses to grab the bull that you are by the horns. He chooses flight, over fight.

"I can have SHIELD agents following you, shadowing you, monitoring you every second of every day--" his thumb gently brushes your cheek. "--you know I can do it. You know there is nothing you can do to stop it. Or, you can accept the fact that I am your current security detail until further notice."

You must have had too much caffeine, because your heart just did a weird tap dance.

"Does Sam know about this?" You take a few steps back and push his hands away.

Thor chooses to ignore the way his chest tightened with those actions. "He said you're going to murder me in my sleep."

"Oh, so he was kind enough to warn you."

--

You had been expecting it.

The thought of an Avenger suddenly escorting you every where, or tailing you, had been something that crossed your mind. You knew, at some point, that Sam would get tired of your choice in security protocols.

You knew that Fury would consider you too much of a risk, to let you remain unsupervised. You were also aware of the fact that this 'deal' was his way of keeping an eye on the management of the company. The man didn't trust anyone, not even you. Not that you could blame him, it's not like you trusted him either.

So you kept all the assassination attempts, and occasional hostile take-overs, hidden. Even with Sam and Hope personally overseeing all security updates done at your home, you still managed to keep the death threats, attempts, that pressure plate bomb that found its way beneath your mattress, and the kidnapping attempts hidden.

If there was one thing you were Avenger-level good at, it was hiding things.

Not even Thor knew about all of them. And you were well aware of how hard that would be, considering how stalkery he has been since he witnessed you accidently hold that axe.

You expected this. Really, you did. What you didn’t expect, was him.

Thor. Odinson. God of Thunder. Pain in your ass. Bane of your existence. The bad side of all your jokes and jabs. That Thor, was the one assigned as your security detail.

“No, no-- Sam, you’re not listening.” You were late for a meeting, because the only hairdryer in your apartment had been considered a safety risk and was tossed out your bedroom window, and then struck -- midair -- by a lightning bolt.

“Sam, you asshole, listen. This idiot had the audacity to move himself into my apartment, make me take the stairs, invade all my meetings, rearrange my furniture--” your anger was getting stronger and stronger with everything you listed. “--he sits on my favourite couch, Sam. My couch. You know how hard it was for me to get that couch. You know--” 

“I’m sure he’s just looking out for you--”

“The stairs! Sam, he is making me take the stairs!” 

“I offered to carry you--” Thor adds from beside you. Unlike your practically-a-sprint jogging pace, your glorified Jarvis is casually strolling beside you, as you rush up the staircase to your office.

You choose to ignore him. “Give Bucky the phone. I wanna talk to him--”

“Y/N--”

“I just wanna apologise to him. Is that so wrong? I just want him to know that I’m sorry I used his arm to crack open his tub of ice cream. I just wanna tell him that I miss him and I’m ready to be the woman he needs--” 

“I am not swapping Thor with Bucky.”

“But we’re in love!”

Thor scoffs, opening the door for you.”You don’t even know what that word means.”

You don’t get to hear what Sam says. Because you’re hurling your phone at Thor before you even realise it and, just like your hairdryer, a lightning bolt slices it apart before it reaches its target.

He sighs. “We need to work on your aim.”

--

Tags: @nekoannie-chan​, @thorfanficwriter​

#annie's500kittieswritingchallenge #annie's1stwritingchallenge #thor #thor x reader #thor fluff #thor fanfic #thor x you #avengers x reader #reader insert #x reader #x you #mcu #marvel writing challenge #thor masterlist #part3 #sam wilson #ghost

[hockeysweetheart]

CCCSweet Moments Between these two Including every Kiss This wont Include the Bread story or When Katniss Pushed him and Regreated it.  ( Beause those are in other posts)   It’s a very long one 

Hunger Games. 

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

Chapter 6 

"You're shivering," says Peeta. The wind and the story have blown all the warmth from my body. The girl's scream. Had it been her last? Peeta takes off his jacket and wraps it around my shoulders. I start to take a step back, but then I let him, deciding for a moment to accept both his jacket and his kindness. A friend would do that, right?

Chapter 9/10  ( Peeta Confessing his love) 

I'm still in a daze for the first part of Peeta's interview. He has the audience from the get-go, though; I can hear them laughing, shouting out. He plays up the baker's son thing, comparing the tributes to the breads from their districts. Then has a funny anecdote about the perils of the Capitol showers. "Tell me, do I still smell like roses?" he asks Caesar, and then there's a whole run where they take turns sniffing each other that brings down the house. I'm coming back into focus when Caesar asks him if he has a girlfriend back home. Peeta hesitates, then gives an unconvincing shake of his head. "Handsome lad like you. There must be some special girl. Come on, what's her name?" says Caesar. Peeta sighs. "Well, there is this one girl. I've had a crush on her ever since I can remember. But I'm pretty sure she didn't know I was alive until the reaping." Sounds of sympathy from the crowd. Unrequited love they can relate to. "She have another fellow?" asks Caesar. "I don't know, but a lot of boys like her," says Peeta. "So, here's what you do. You win, you go home. She can't turn you down then, eh?" says Caesar encouragingly. "I don't think it's going to work out. Winning. won't help in my case," says Peeta. "Why ever not?" says Caesar, mystified. Peeta blushes beet red and stammers out. "Because. because. she came here with me."

For a moment, the cameras hold on Peeta's downcast eyes as what he says sinks in. Then I can see my face, mouth half open in a mix of surprise and protest, magnified on every screen as I realize, Me! He means me! I press my lips together and stare at the floor, hoping this will conceal the emotions starting to boil up inside of me. "Oh, that is a piece of bad luck," says Caesar, and there's a real edge of pain in his voice. The crowd is murmuring in agreement, a few have even given agonized cries. "It's not good," agrees Peeta. "Well, I don't think any of us can blame you. It'd be hard not to fall for that young lady," says Caesar. "She didn't know?" Peeta shakes his head. "Not until now." I allow my eyes to flicker up to the screen long enough to see that the blush on my cheeks is unmistakable. "Wouldn't you love to pull her back out here and get a response?" Caesar asks the audience. The crowd screams assent. "Sadly, rules are rules, and Katniss Everdeen's time has been spent. Well, best of luck to you, Peeta Mellark, and I think I speak for all of Panem when I say our hearts go with yours." The roar of the crowd is deafening. Peeta has absolutely wiped the rest of us off the map with his declaration of love for me. When the audience finally settles down, he chokes out a quiet "Thank you" and returns to his seat. We stand for the anthem. I have to raise my head out of the required respect and cannot avoid seeing that every screen is now dominated by a shot of Peeta and me, separated by a few feet that in the viewers' heads can never be breached. Poor tragic us.

Chapter 19 

"Katniss," he says. I go over to him and brush the hair back from his eyes. "Thanks for finding me." "You would have found me if you could," I say. His forehead's burning up. Like the medicine's having no effect at all. Suddenly, out of nowhere, I'm scared he's going to die. "Yes. Look, if I don't make it back  - " he begins. "Don't talk like that. I didn't drain all that pus for nothing," I say. "I know. But just in case I don't  - " he tries to continue. "No, Peeta, I don't even want to discuss it," I say, placing my fingers on his lips to quiet him. "But I  - " he insists. Impulsively, I lean forward and kiss him, stopping his words. This is probably overdue anyway since he's right, we are supposed to be madly in love. It's the first time I've ever kissed a boy, which should make some sort of impression I guess, but all I can register is how unnaturally hot his lips are from the fever. I break away and pull the edge of the sleeping bag up around him. "You're not going to die. I forbid it. All right?" "All right," he whispers. I step out in the cool evening air just as the parachute floats down from the sky. My fingers quickly undo the tie, hoping for some real medicine to treat Peeta's leg. Instead I find a pot of hot broth. Haymitch couldn't be sending me a clearer message. One kiss equals one pot of broth. I can almost hear his snarl. "You're supposed to be in love, sweetheart. The boy's dying. Give me something I can work with!"

And he's right. If I want to keep Peeta alive, I've got to give the audience something more to care about. Star-crossed lovers desperate to get home together. Two hearts beating as one. Romance. Never having been in love, this is going to be a real trick. I think of my parents. The way my father never failed to bring her gifts from the woods. The way my mother's face would light up at the sound of his boots at the door. The way she almost stopped living when he died. "Peeta!" I say, trying for the special tone that my mother used only with my father. He's dozed off again, but I kiss him awake, which seems to startle him. Then he smiles as if he'd be happy to lie there gazing at me forever. He's great at this stuff. I hold up the pot. "Peeta, look what Haymitch has sent you."  

 Chapter 19 ( Had to add some Flirting from the stream 

"Let's get you in the stream, wash you off so I can see what kind of wounds you've got," I say. "Lean down a minute first," he says. "Need to tell you something." I lean over and put my good ear to his lips, which tickle as he whispers. "Remember, we're madly in love, so it's all right to kiss me anytime you feel like it." I jerk my head back but end up laughing. "Thanks, I'll keep it in mind." At least, he's still able to joke around. But when I start to help him to the stream, all the levity disappears. It's only two feet away, how hard can it be? Very hard when I realize he's unable to move an inch on his own. He's so weak that the best he can do is not to resist. I try to drag him, but despite the fact that I know he's doing all he can to keep quiet, sharp cries of pain escape him. The mud and plants seem to have imprisoned him and I finally have to give a gigantic tug to break him from their clutches. He's still two feet from the water, lying there, teeth gritted, tears cutting trails in the dirt on his face. "Look, Peeta, I'm going to roll you into the stream. It's very shallow here, okay?" I say.

Katniss?" Peeta says. I meet his eyes, knowing my face must be some shade of green. He mouths the words. "How about that kiss?"

I burst out laughing because the whole thing is so revolting I can't stand it.

"Something wrong?" he asks a little too innocently.

"I. I'm no good at this. I'm not my mother. I've no idea what I'm doing and I hate pus," I say. "Euh!" I allow myself to let out a groan as I rinse away the first round of leaves and apply the second. "Euuuh!"

"How do you hunt?" he asks.

"Trust me. Killing things is much easier than this," I say. "Although for all I know, I am killing you."

"Can you speed it up a little?" he asks.

"No. Shut up and eat your pears," I say.

Chapter 20

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

The temperature drops rapidly and soon I'm chilled to the bone. Eventually, I give in and slide into the sleeping bag with Peeta. It's toasty warm and I snuggle down gratefully until I realize it's more than warm, it's overly hot because the bag is reflecting back his fever. I check his forehead and find it burning and dry. I don't know what to do. Leave him in the bag and hope the excessive heat breaks the fever? Take him out and hope the night air cools him off? I end up just dampening a strip of bandage and placing it on his forehead. It seems weak, but I'm afraid to do anything too drastic. I spend the night half-sitting, half-lying next to Peeta, refreshing the bandage, and trying not to dwell on the fact that by teaming up with him, I've made myself far more vulnerable than when I was alone. Tethered to the ground, on guard, with a very sick person to take care of. But I knew he was injured. And still I came after him. I'm just going to have to trust that whatever instinct sent me to find him was a good one.

Oh, right, the whole romance thing. I reach out to touch his cheek and he catches my hand and presses it against his lips. I remember my father doing this very thing to my mother and I wonder where Peeta picked it up. Surely not from his father and the witch. "No more kisses for you until you've eaten," I say. We get him propped up against the wall and he obediently swallows the spoonfuls of the berry mush I feed him. He refuses the groosling again, though. "You didn't sleep," Peeta says. "I'm all right," I say. But the truth is, I'm exhausted.

It's too warm for the sleeping bag now. I smooth it out on the cave floor and lie down, one hand on my loaded bow in case I have to shoot at a moment's notice. Peeta sits beside me, leaning against the wall, his bad leg stretched out before him, his eyes trained on the world outside. "Go to sleep," he says softly. His hand brushes the loose strands of my hair off my forehead. Unlike the staged kisses and caresses so far, this gesture seems natural and comforting. I don't want him to stop and he doesn't. He's still stroking my hair when I fall asleep. Too long. I sleep too long. I know from the moment I open my eyes that we're into the afternoon. Peeta's right beside me, his position unchanged. I sit up, feeling somehow defensive but better rested than I've been in days.

"Well, there's more swelling, but the pus is gone," I say in an unsteady voice. "I know what blood poisoning is, Katniss," says Peeta. "Even if my mother isn't a healer." "You're just going to have to outlast the others, Peeta. They'll cure it back at the Capitol when we win," I say. "Yes, that's a good plan," he says. But I feel this is mostly for my benefit. "You have to eat. Keep your strength up. I'm going to make you soup," I say.

Chapter 21

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

Chapter 22 

"No! Just don't, Katniss!" His grip tightens, hurting my hand, and there's real anger in his voice. "Don't die for me. You won't be doing me any favors. All right?" I'm startled by his intensity but recognize an excellent opportunity for getting food, so I try to keep up. "Maybe I did it for myself, Peeta, did you ever think of that? Maybe you aren't the only one who. who worries about. what it would be like if. " I fumble. I'm not as smooth with words as Peeta. And while I was talking, the idea of actually losing Peeta hit me again and I realized how much I don't want him to die. And it's not about the sponsors. And it's not about what will happen back home. And it's not just that I don't want to be alone. It's him. I do not want to lose the boy with the bread. "If what, Katniss?" he says softly. I wish I could pull the shutters closed, blocking out this moment from the prying eyes of Panem. Even if it means losing food. Whatever I'm feeling, it's no one's business but mine. "That's exactly the kind of topic Haymitch told me to steer clear of," I say evasively, although Haymitch never said anything of the kind. In fact, he's probably cursing me out right now for dropping the ball during such an emotionally charged moment. But Peeta somehow catches it. "Then I'll just have to fill in the blanks myself," he says, and moves in to me. This is the first kiss that we're both fully aware of. Neither of us hobbled by sickness or pain or simply unconscious. Our lips neither burning with fever or icy cold. This is the first kiss where I actually feel stirring inside my chest. Warm and curious. This is the first kiss that makes me want another. But I don't get it. Well, I do get a second kiss, but it's just a light one on the tip of my nose because Peeta's been distracted. "I think your wound is bleeding again. Come on, lie down, it's bedtime anyway," he says.

Chapter 23 

The sun eventually rises, its light slipping through the cracks and illuminating Peeta's face. Who will he transform into if we make it home? This perplexing, good-natured boy who can spin out lies so convincingly the whole of Panem believes him to be hopelessly in love with me, and I'll admit it, there are moments when he makes me believe it myself? At least, we'll be friends, I think. Nothing will change the fact that we've saved each other's lives in here. And beyond that, he will always be the boy with the bread. Good friends. Anything beyond that though. and I feel Gale's gray eyes watching me watching Peeta, all the way from District 12. Discomfort causes me to move. I scoot over and shake Peeta's shoulder. His eyes open sleepily and when they focus on me, he pulls me down for a long kiss. "We're wasting hunting time," I say when I finally break away. "I wouldn't call it wasting," he says giving a big stretch as he sits up. "So do we hunt on empty stomachs to give us an edge?"  

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

Chapter 23 ( Just a sweet moment) 

"Oh, that's right. That's what I was thinking," he says. "Scoot over, I'm freezing." I make room for him in the sleeping bag. We lean back against the cave wall, my head on his shoulder, his arms wrapped around me. I can feel Haymitch nudging me to keep up the act. "So, since we were five, you never even noticed any other girls?" I ask him. "No, I noticed just about every girl, but none of them made a lasting impression but you," he says. "I'm sure that would thrill your parents, you liking a girl from the Seam," I say. "Hardly. But I couldn't care less. Anyway, if we make it back, you won't be a girl from the Seam, you'll be a girl from the Victor's Village," he says.

Chapter 24 

"Can't we go back to the cave?" he asks. "It's near water and easy to defend." I sigh. Several more hours of walking  -  or should I say crashing  -  through the woods to reach an area we'll just have to leave in the morning to hunt. But Peeta doesn't ask for much. He's followed my instructions all day and I'm sure if things were reversed, he wouldn't make me spend the night in a tree. It dawns on me that I haven't been very nice to Peeta today. Nagging him about how loud he was, screaming at him over disappearing. The playful romance we had sustained in the cave has disappeared out in the open, under the hot sun, with the threat of Cato looming over us. Haymitch has probably just about had it with me. And as for the audience. I reach up and give him a kiss. "Sure. Let's go back to the cave."

Chapter 24 

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

Chapter 25  "You're not leaving me here alone," I say. Because if he dies, I'll never go home, not really. I'll spend the rest of my life in this arena trying to think my way out. "Listen," he says pulling me to my feet. "We both know they have to have a victor. It can only be one of us. Please, take it. For me." And he goes on about how he loves me, what life would be without me but I've stopped listening because his previous words are trapped in my head, thrashing desperately around. We both know they have to have a victor. Yes, they have to have a victor. Without a victor, the whole thing would blow up in the Gamemakers' faces. They'd have failed the Capitol. Might possibly even be executed, slowly and painfully while the cameras broadcast it to every screen in the country. If Peeta and I were both to die, or they thought we were. My fingers fumble with the pouch on my belt, freeing it. Peeta sees it and his hand clamps on my wrist. "No, I won't let you." "Trust me," I whisper. He holds my gaze for a long moment then lets me go. I loosen the top of the pouch and pour a few spoonfuls of berries into his palm. Then I fill my own. "On the count of three?" Peeta leans down and kisses me once, very gently. "The count of three," he says. We stand, our backs pressed together, our empty hands locked tight. "Hold them out. I want everyone to see," he says. I spread out my fingers, and the dark berries glisten in the sun. I give Peeta's hand one last squeeze as a signal, as a good-bye, and we begin counting. "One." Maybe I'm wrong. "Two." Maybe they don't care if we both die. "Three!" It's too late to change my mind. I lift my hand to my mouth, taking one last look at the world. The berries have just passed my lips when the trumpets begin to blare. The frantic voice of Claudius Templesmith shouts above them. "Stop! Stop! Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victors of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark! I give you  -  the tributes of District Twelve!" 

* NOT A Kissing but cuddling moment sorta* 

"Don't go to sleep," I tell him. I'm not sure if this is exactly medical protocol, but I'm terrified that if he drifts off he'll never wake again. "Are you cold?" he asks. He unzips his jacket and I press against him as he fastens it around me. It's a bit warmer, sharing our body heat inside my double layer of jackets, but the night is young. The temperature will continue to drop.

Chaper 26 

  I spew the berries from my mouth, wiping my tongue with the end of my shirt to make sure no juice remains. Peeta pulls me to the lake where we both flush our mouths with water and then collapse into each other's arms. "You didn't swallow any?" I ask him. He shakes his head. "You?"

  "Guess I'd be dead by now if I did," I say. I can see his lips moving in reply, but I can't hear him over the roar of the crowd in the Capitol that they're playing live over the speakers. The hovercraft materializes overhead and two ladders drop, only there's no way I'm letting go of Peeta. I keep one arm around him as I help him up, and we each place a foot on the first rung of the ladder. The electric current freezes us in place, and this time I'm glad because I'm not really sure Peeta can hang on for the whole ride. And since my eyes were looking down, I can see that while our muscles are immobile, nothing is preventing the blood from draining out of Peeta's leg. Sure enough, the minute the door closes behind us and the current stops, he slumps to the floor unconscious. My fingers are still gripping the back of his jacket so tightly that when they take him away it tears leaving me with a fistful of black fabric. Doctors in sterile white, masked and gloved, already prepped to operate, go into action. Peeta's so pale and still on a silver table, tubes and wires springing out of him every which way, and for a moment I forget we're out of the Games and I see the doctors as just one more threat, one more pack of mutts designed to kill him. Petrified, I lunge for him, but I'm caught and thrust back into another room, and a glass door seals between us. I pound on the glass, screaming my head off. Everyone ignores me except for some Capitol attendant who appears behind me and offers me a beverage. I slump down on the floor, my face against the door, staring uncomprehendingly at the crystal glass in my hand. Icy cold, filled with orange juice, a straw with a frilly white collar. How wrong it looks in my bloody, filthy hand with its dirt-caked nails and scars. My mouth waters at the smell, but I place it carefully on the floor, not trusting anything so clean and pretty.

Chapter 26 ( Had to add this one in here ) 

The hovercraft materializes overhead and two ladders drop, only there's no way I'm letting go of Peeta. I keep one arm around him as I help him up, and we each place a foot on the first rung of the ladder. The electric current freezes us in place, and this time I'm glad because I'm not really sure Peeta can hang on for the whole ride. And since my eyes were looking down, I can see that while our muscles are immobile, nothing is preventing the blood from draining out of Peeta's leg. Sure enough, the minute the door closes behind us and the current stops, he slumps to the floor unconscious. My fingers are still gripping the back of his jacket so tightly that when they take him away it tears leaving me with a fistful of black fabric. Doctors in sterile white, masked and gloved, already prepped to operate, go into action. Peeta's so pale and still on a silver table, tubes and wires springing out of him every which way, and for a moment I forget we're out of the Games and I see the doctors as just one more threat, one more pack of mutts designed to kill him. Petrified, I lunge for him, but I'm caught and thrust back into another room, and a glass door seals between us. I pound on the glass, screaming my head off. Everyone ignores me except for some Capitol attendant who appears behind me and offers me a beverage. I slump down on the floor, my face against the door, staring uncomprehendingly at the crystal glass in my hand. Icy cold, filled with orange juice, a straw with a frilly white collar. How wrong it looks in my bloody, filthy hand with its dirt-caked nails and scars. My mouth waters at the smell, but I place it carefully on the floor, not trusting anything so clean and pretty. Through the glass, I see the doctors working feverishly on Peeta, their brows creased in concentration. I see the flow of liquids, pumping through the tubes, watch a wall of dials and lights that mean nothing to me. I'm not sure, but I think his heart stops twice. It's like being home again, when they bring in the hopelessly mangled person from the mine explosion, or the woman in her third day of labor, or the famished child struggling against pneumonia and my mother and Prim, they wear that same look on their faces. Now is the time to run away to the woods, to hide in the trees until the patient is long gone and in another part of the Seam the hammers make the coffin. But I'm held here both by the hovercraft walls and the same force that holds the loved ones of the dying. How often I've seen them, ringed around our kitchen table and I thought, Why don't they leave? Why do they stay to watch? And now I know. It's because you have no choice. I startle when I catch someone staring at me from only a few inches away and then realize it's my own face reflecting back in the glass. Wild eyes, hollow cheeks, my hair in a tangled mat. Rabid. Feral. Mad. No wonder everyone is keeping a safe distance from me.

Chapter 27 

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

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

Chapter 27 Rewatching the games 

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

Chapter 27 Final interview of the book 

Then Peeta's there looking handsome in red and white, pulling me off to the side. "I hardly get to see you. Haymitch seems bent on keeping us apart." Haymitch is actually bent on keeping us alive, but there are too many ears listening, so I just say, "Yes, he's gotten very responsible lately." "Well, there's just this and we go home. Then he can't watch us all the time," says Peeta. I feel a sort of shiver run through me and there's no time to analyze why, because they're ready for us. We sit somewhat formally on the love seat, but Caesar says, "Oh, go ahead and curl up next to him if you want. It looked very sweet." So I tuck my feet up and Peeta pulls me in close to him. Someone counts backward and just like that, we're being broadcast live to the entire country. Caesar Flickerman is wonderful, teasing, joking, getting choked up when the occasion presents itself. He and Peeta already have the rapport they established that night of the first interview, that easy banter, so I just smile a lot and try to speak as little as possible. I mean, I have to talk some, but as soon as I can I redirect the conversation back to Peeta. Eventually though, Caesar begins to pose questions that insist on fuller answers. "Well, Peeta, we know, from our days in the cave, that it was love at first sight for you from what, age five?" Caesar says. "From the moment I laid eyes on her," says Peeta. "But, Katniss, what a ride for you. I think the real excitement for the audience was watching you fall for him. When did you realize you were in love with him?" asks Caesar. "Oh, that's a hard one. " I give a faint, breathy laugh and look down at my hands. Help. "Well, I know when it hit me. The night when you shouted out his name from that tree," says Caesar. Thank you, Caesar! I think, and then go with his idea. "Yes, I guess that was it. I mean, until that point, I just tried not to think about what my feelings might be, honestly, because it was so confusing and it only made things worse if I actually cared about him. But then, in the tree, everything changed," I say. "Why do you think that was?" urges Caesar. "Maybe. because for the first time. there was a chance I could keep him," I say. Behind a cameraman, I see Haymitch give a sort of huff with relief and I know I've said the right thing. Caesar pulls out a handkerchief and has to take a moment because he's so moved. I can feel Peeta press his forehead into my temple and he asks, "So now that you've got me, what are you going to do with me?"

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

For Caesar, this is a natural place to segue into all the ways we did get hurt in the arena, from burns, to stings, to wounds. But it's not until we get around to the mutts that I forget I'm on camera. When Caesar asks Peeta how his "new leg" is working out.

"New leg?" I say, and I can't help reaching out and pulling up the bottom of Peeta's pants. "Oh, no," I whisper, taking in the metal-and-plastic device that has replaced his flesh.

"No one told you?" asks Caesar gently. I shake my head.

"I haven't had the chance," says Peeta with a slight shrug.

"It's my fault," I say. "Because I used that tourniquet."

"Yes, it's your fault I'm alive," says Peeta.

"He's right," says Caesar. "He'd have bled to death for sure without it."

I guess this is true, but I can't help feeling upset about it to the extent that I'm afraid I might cry and then I remember everyone in the country is watching me so I just bury my face in Peeta's shirt. It takes them a couple of minutes to coax me back out because it's better in the shirt, where no one can see me, and when I do come out, Caesar backs off questioning me so I can recover. In fact, he pretty much leaves me alone until the berries come up.

"Katniss, I know you've had a shock, but I've got to ask. The moment when you pulled out those berries. What was going on in your mind. hm?" he says.

I take a long pause before I answer, trying to collect my thoughts. This is the crucial moment where I either challenged the Capitol or went so crazy at the idea of losing Peeta that I can't be held responsible for my actions. It seems to call for a big, dramatic speech, but all I get out is one almost inaudible sentence. "I don't know, I just. couldn't bear the thought of. being without him."

"Peeta? Anything to add?" asks Caesar.

"No. I think that goes for both of us," he says.

Caesar signs off and it's over. Everyone's laughing and crying and hugging, but I'm still not sure until I reach Haymitch. "Okay?" I whisper.

"Perfect," he answers.

Chapter 27   A sweet moment then Freaking Haymitch Ruined it... I guess Peeta had to learn the truth at some point 

When the train makes a brief stop for fuel, we're allowed to go outside for some fresh air. There's no longer any need to guard us. Peeta and I walk down along the track, hand in hand, and I can't find anything to say now that we're alone. He stops to gather a bunch of wildflowers for me. When he presents them, I work hard to look pleased. Because he can't know that the pink-and-white flowers are the tops of wild onions and only remind me of the hours I've spent gathering them with Gale. Gale. The idea of seeing Gale in a matter of hours makes my stomach churn. But why? I can't quite frame it in my mind. I only know that I feel like I've been lying to someone who trusts me. Or more accurately, to two people. I've been getting away with it up to this point because of the Games. But there will be no Games to hide behind back home. "What's wrong?" Peeta asks. "Nothing," I answer. We continue walking, past the end of the train, out where even I'm fairly sure there are no cameras hidden in the scrubby bushes along the track. Still no words come. Haymitch startles me when he lays a hand on my back. Even now, in the middle of nowhere, he keeps his voice down. "Great job, you two. Just keep it up in the district until the cameras are gone. We should be okay." I watch him head back to the train, avoiding Peeta's eyes. "What's he mean?" Peeta asks me. "It's the Capitol. They didn't like our stunt with the berries," I blurt out. "What? What are you talking about?" he says. "It seemed too rebellious. So, Haymitch has been coaching me through the last few days. So I didn't make it worse," I say. "Coaching you? But not me," says Peeta. "He knew you were smart enough to get it right," I say. "I didn't know there was anything to get right," says Peeta. "So, what you're saying is, these last few days and then I guess. back in the arena. that was just some strategy you two worked out." "No. I mean, I couldn't even talk to him in the arena, could I?" I stammer. "But you knew what he wanted you to do, didn't you?" says Peeta. I bite my lip. "Katniss?" He drops my hand and I take a step, as if to catch my balance. "It was all for the Games," Peeta says. "How you acted." "Not all of it," I say, tightly holding onto my flowers. "Then how much? No, forget that. I guess the real question is what's going to be left when we get home?" he says. "I don't know. The closer we get to District Twelve, the more confused I get," I say. He waits, for further explanation, but none's forthcoming. "Well, let me know when you work it out," he says, and the pain in his voice is palpable.

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

CATCHING FIRE 

Chapter 1 ( 

I can't stop the redness that floods my cheeks. It's stupid, of course. Hardly anybody knows me better than Hazelle. Knows the bond I share with Gale. I'm sure plenty of people assumed that we'd eventually get married even if I never gave it any thought. But that was before the Games. Before my fellow tribute, Peeta Mellark, announced he was madly in love with me. Our romance became a key strategy for our survival in the arena. Only it wasn't just a strategy for Peeta. I'm not sure what it was for me. But I know now it was nothing but painful for Gale. My chest tightens as I think about how, on the Victory Tour, Peeta and I will have to present ourselves as lovers again.

A little later on Chapter 1. 

He seems to remember. "Why am I all wet?" "I couldn't shake you awake," I say. "Look, if you wanted to be babied, you should have asked Peeta." "Asked me what?" Just the sound of his voice twists my stomach into a knot of unpleasant emotions like guilt, sadness, and fear. And longing. I might as well admit there's some of that, too. Only it has too much competition to ever win out. I watch as Peeta crosses to the table, the sunlight from the window picking up the glint of fresh snow in his blond hair. He looks strong and healthy, so different from the sick, starving boy I knew in the arena, and you can barely even notice his limp now. He sets a loaf of fresh-baked bread on the table and holds out his hand to Haymitch. "Asked you to wake me without giving me pneumonia," says Haymitch, passing over his knife. He pulls off his filthy shirt, revealing an equally soiled undershirt, and rubs himself down with the dry part. Peeta smiles and douses Haymitch's knife in white liquor from a bottle on the floor. He wipes the blade clean on his shirttail and slices the bread. Peeta keeps all of us in fresh baked goods. I hunt. He bakes. Haymitch drinks. We have our own ways to stay busy, to keep thoughts of our time as contestants in the Hunger Games at bay. It's not until he's handed Haymitch the heel that he even looks at me for the first time. "Would you like a piece?" "No, I ate at the Hob," I say. "But thank you." My voice doesn't sound like my own, it's so formal. Just as it's been every time I've spoken to Peeta since the cameras finished filming our happy homecoming and we returned to our real lives. "You're welcome," he says back stiffly. Haymitch tosses his shirt somewhere into the mess. "Brrr. You two have got a lot of warming up to do before showtime." He's right, of course. The audience will be expecting the pair of lovebirds who won the Hunger Games. Not two people who can barely look each other in the eye. But all I say is, "Take a bath, Haymitch." Then I swing out the window, drop to the ground, and head across the green to my house.

Chapter 3 

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

Okay ( I skipped over the Talk between Snow and Katniss ) Basically hes not convinced about that Katniss loves Peeta and is kinda a Di** about Katniss having the company of another guy when  Gale Literally  just surprised kissed her  Taking her By Surprise so  yeah this is what this post is below about basically 

His face sobers, grows older in the glow of the red tail-lights. "Then you can't fail." "If you could just help me get through this trip - " I begin. "No, Katniss, it's not just this trip," he says. "What do you mean?" I say. "Even if you pull it off, they'll be back in another few months to take us all to the Games. You and Peeta, you'll be mentors now, every year from here on out. And every year they'll revisit the romance and broadcast the details of your private life, and you'll never, ever be able to do anything but live happily ever after with that boy." The full impact of what he's saying hits me. I will never have a life with Gale, even if I want to. I will never be allowed to live alone. I will have to be forever in love with Peeta. The Capitol will insist on it. I'll have a few years maybe, because I'm still only sixteen, to stay with my mother and Prim. And then ... and then ... "Do you understand what I mean?" he presses me. I nod. He means there's only one future, if I want to keep those I love alive and stay alive myself. I'll have to marry Peeta.

Chapter 4 

Favourite colour 

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

Chapter 4  * The Speeches In district 11* 

Peeta had his personal comments written on a card, but he doesn't pull it out. Instead he speaks in his simple, winning style about Thresh and Rue making it to the final eight, about how they both kept me alive - thereby keeping him alive - and about how this is a debt we can never repay. And then he hesitates before adding something that wasn't written on the card. Maybe because he thought Effie might make him remove it. "It can in no way replace your losses, but as a token of our thanks we'd like for each of the tributes' families from District Eleven to receive one month of our winnings every year for the duration of our lives." The crowd can't help but respond with gasps and murmurs. There is no precedent for what Peeta has done. I don't even know if it's legal. He probably doesn't know, either, so he didn't ask in case it isn't. As for the families, they just stare at us in shock. Their lives were changed forever when Thresh and Rue were lost, but this gift will change them again. A month of tribute winnings can easily provide for a family for a year. As long as we live, they will not hunger. I look at Peeta and he gives me a sad smile. I hear Haymitch's voice. "You could do a lot worse." At this moment, it's impossible to imagine how I could do any better. The gift ... it is perfect. So when I rise up on tiptoe to kiss him, it doesn't seem forced at all.

"Wait!" I stumble forward, pressing the plaque to my chest. My allotted time for speaking has come and gone, but I must say something. I owe too much. And even if I had pledged all my winnings to the families, it would not excuse my silence today. "Wait, please." I don't know how to start, but once I do, the words rush from my lips as if they've been forming in the back of my mind for a long time. "I want to give my thanks to the tributes of District Eleven," I say. I look at the pair of women on Thresh's side. "I only ever spoke to Thresh one time. Just long enough for him to spare my life. I didn't know him, but I always respected him. For his power. For his refusal to play the Games on anyone's terms but his own. The Careers wanted him to team up with them from the beginning, but he wouldn't do it. I respected him for that." For the first time the old hunched woman - is she Thresh's grandmother? - raises her head and the trace of a smile plays on her lips. The crowd has fallen silent now, so silent that I wonder how they manage it. They must all be holding their breath. I turn to Rue's family. "But I feel as if I did know Rue, and she'll always be with me. Everything beautiful brings her to mind. I see her in the yellow flowers that grow in the Meadow by my house. I see her in the mockingjays that sing in the trees. But most of all, I see her in my sister, Prim." My voice is undependable, but I am almost finished. "Thank you for your children." I raise my chin to address the crowd. "And thank you all for the bread." I stand there, feeling broken and small, thousands of eyes trained on me. There's a long pause. Then, from somewhere in the crowd, someone whistles Rue's four-note mocking-jay tune. The one that signaled the end of the workday in the orchards. The one that meant safety in the arena. By the end of the tune, I have found the whistler, a wizened old man in a faded red shirt and overalls. His eyes meet mine. What happens next is not an accident. It is too well executed to be spontaneous, because it happens in complete unison. Every person in the crowd presses the three middle fingers of their left hand against their lips and extends them to me. It's our sign from District 12, the last good-bye I gave Rue in the arena.

Chapter 5  Katniss Tells Peeta everything  

Peeta relates all that occurred in the square. The whistle, the salute, our hesitation on the verandah, the murder of the old man. "What's going on, Haymitch?" "It will be better coming from you," Haymitch says to me. I don't agree. I think it will be a hundred times worse coming from me. But I tell Peeta everything as calmly as I can. About President Snow, the unrest in the districts. I don't even omit the kiss with Gale. I lay out how we are all in jeopardy, how the whole country is in jeopardy because of my trick with the berries. "I was supposed to fix things on this tour. Make everyone who had doubted believe I acted out of love. Calm things down. But obviously, all I've done today is. get three people killed, and now everyone in the square will be punished." I feel so sick that I have to sit down on a couch, despite the exposed springs and stuffing. "Then I made things worse, too. By giving the money," says Peeta. Suddenly he strikes out at a lamp that sits precariously on a crate and knocks it across the room, where it shatters against the floor. "This has to stop. Right now. This - this - game you two play, where you tell each other secrets but keep them from me like I'm too inconsequential or stupid or weak to handle them." "It's not like that, Peeta - " I begin. "It's exactly like that!" he yells at me. "I have people I care about, too, Katniss! Family and friends back in District Twelve who will be just as dead as yours if we don't pull this thing off. So, after all we went through in the arena, don't I even rate the truth from you?" "You're always so reliably good, Peeta," says Haymitch. "So smart about how you present yourself before the cameras. I didn't want to disrupt that." "Well, you overestimated me. Because I really screwed up today. What do you think is going to happen to Rue's and Thresh's families? Do you think they'll get their share of our winnings? Do you think I gave them a bright future? Because I think they'll be lucky if they survive the day!" Peeta sends something else flying, a statue. I've never seen him like this. "He's right, Haymitch," I say. "We were wrong not to tell him. Even back in the Capitol." "Even in the arena, you two had some sort of system worked out, didn't you?" asks Peeta. His voice is quieter now. "Something I wasn't part of." "No. Not officially. I just could tell what Haymitch wanted me to do by what he sent, or didn't send," I say. "Well, I never had that opportunity. Because he never sent me anything until you showed up," says Peeta. I haven't thought much about this. How it must have looked from Peeta's perspective when I appeared in the arena having received burn medicine and bread when he, who was at death's door, had gotten nothing. Like Haymitch was keeping me alive at his expense. "Look, boy - " Haymitch begins. "Don't bother, Haymitch. I know you had to choose one of us. And I'd have wanted it to be her. But this is something different. People are dead out there. More will follow unless we're very good. We all know I'm better than Katniss in front of the cameras. No one needs to coach me on what to say. But I have to know what I'm walking into," says Peeta. "From now on, you'll be fully informed," Haymitch promises. "I better be," says Peeta. He doesn't even bother to look at me before he leaves. The dust he disrupted billows up and looks for new places to land. My hair, my eyes, my shiny gold pin. "Did you choose me, Haymitch?" I ask. "Yeah," he says. "Why? You like him better," I say. "That's true. But remember, until they changed the rules, I could only hope to get one of you out of there alive," he says. "I thought since he was determined to protect you, well, between the three of us, we might be able to bring you home." "Oh" is all I can think to say. "You'll see, the choices you'll have to make. If we survive this," says Haymitch. "You'll learn." Well, I've learned one thing today. This place is not a larger version of District 12. Our fence is unguarded and rarely charged. Our Peacekeepers are unwelcome but less brutal. Our hardships evoke more fatigue than fury. Here in 11, they suffer more acutely and feel more desperation. President Snow is right. A spark could be enough to set them ablaze. Everything is happening too fast for me to process it. The warning, the shootings, the recognition that I may have set something of great consequence in motion. The whole thing is so improbable. And it would be one thing if I had planned to stir things up, but given the circumstances ... how on earth did I cause so much trouble? "Come on. We've got a dinner to attend," says Haymitch  

 Basically the rest of Chapter 5 

Effie arranges us in formation for our entrance. First the prep teams, then her, the stylists, Haymitch. Peeta and I, of course, bring up the rear. Somewhere below, musicians begin to play. As the first wave of our little procession begins down the steps, Peeta and I join hands. "Haymitch says I was wrong to yell at you. You were only operating under his instructions," says Peeta. "And it isn't as if I haven't kept things from you in the past." I remember the shock of hearing Peeta confess his love for me in front of all of Panem. Haymitch had known about that and not told me. "I think I broke a few things myself after that interview." "Just an urn," he says. "And your hands. There's no point to it anymore, though, is there? Not being straight with each other?" I say. "No point," says Peeta. We stand at the top of the stairs, giving Haymitch a fifteen-step lead as Effie directed. "Was that really the only time you kissed Gale?" I'm so startled I answer. "Yes." With all that has happened today, has that question actually been preying on him? "That's fifteen. Let's do it," he says. A light hits us, and I put on the most dazzling smile I can. We descend the steps and are sucked into what becomes an indistinguishable round of dinners, ceremonies, and train rides. Each day it's the same. Wake up. Get dressed. Ride through cheering crowds. Listen to a speech in our honor. Give a thank-you speech in return, but only the one the Capitol gave us, never any personal additions now. Sometimes a brief tour: a glimpse of the sea in one district, towering forests in another, ugly factories, fields of wheat, stinking refineries. Dress in evening clothes. Attend dinner. Train. During ceremonies, we are solemn and respectful but always linked together, by our hands, our arms. At dinners, we are borderline delirious in our love for each other. We kiss, we dance, we get caught trying to sneak away to be alone. On the train, we are quietly miserable as we try to assess what effect we might be having. Even without our personal speeches to trigger dissent - needless to say the ones we gave in District 11 were edited out before the event was broadcast - you can feel something in the air, the rolling boil of a pot about to run over. Not everywhere. Some crowds have the weary-cattle feel that I know District 12 usually projects at the victors' ceremonies. But in others - particularly 8, 4, and 3 - there is genuine elation in the faces of the people at the sight of us, and under the elation, fury. When they chant my name, it is more of a cry for vengeance than a cheer. When the Peacekeepers move in to quiet an unruly crowd, it presses back instead of retreating. And I know that there's nothing I could ever do to change this. No show of love, however believable, will turn this tide. If my holding out those berries was an act of temporary insanity, then these people will embrace insanity, too. Cinna begins to take in my clothes around the waist. The prep team frets over the circles under my eyes. Effie starts giving me pills to sleep, but they don't work. Not well enough. I drift off only to be roused by nightmares that have increased in number and intensity. Peeta, who spends much of the night roaming the train, hears me screaming as I struggle to break out of the haze of drugs that merely prolong the horrible dreams. He manages to wake me and calm me down. Then he climbs into bed to hold me until I fall back to sleep. After that, I refuse the pills. But every night I let him into my bed. We manage the darkness as we did in the arena, wrapped in each other's arms, guarding against dangers that can descend at any moment. Nothing else happens, but our arrangement quickly becomes a subject of gossip on the train. When Effie brings it up to me, I think, Good. Maybe it will get back to President Snow. I tell her we'll make an effort to be more discreet, but we don't. The back-to-back appearances in 2 and 1 are their own special kind of awful. Cato and Clove, the tributes from District 2, might have both made it home if Peeta and I hadn't. I personally killed the girl, Glimmer, and the boy from District 1. As I try to avoid looking at his family, I learn that his name was Marvel. How did I never know that? I suppose that before the Games I didn't pay attention, and afterward I didn't want to know. By the time we reach the Capitol, we are desperate. We make endless appearances to adoring crowds. There is no danger of an uprising here among the privileged, among those whose names are never placed in the reaping balls, whose children never die for the supposed crimes committed generations ago. We don't need to convince anybody in the Capitol of our love but hold to the slim hope that we can still reach some of those we failed to convince in the districts. Whatever we do seems too little, too late. Back in our old quarters in the Training Center, I'm the one who suggests the public marriage proposal. Peeta agrees to do it but then disappears to his room for a long time. Haymitch tells me to leave him alone. "I thought he wanted it, anyway," I say. "Not like this," Haymitch says. "He wanted it to be real."

That night, on the stage before the Training Center, we bubble our way through a list of questions. Caesar Flickerman, in his twinkling midnight blue suit, his hair, eyelids, and lips still dyed powder blue, flawlessly guides us through the interview. When he asks us about the future, Peeta gets down on one knee, pours out his heart, and begs me to marry him. I, of course, accept. Caesar is beside himself, the Capitol audience is hysterical, shots of crowds around Panem show a country besotted with happiness. President Snow himself makes a surprise visit to congratulate us. He clasps Peeta's hand and gives him an approving slap on the shoulder. He embraces me, enfolding me in the smell of blood and roses, and plants a puffy kiss on my cheek. When he pulls back, his fingers digging into my arms, his face smiling into mine, I dare to raise my eyebrows. They ask what my lips can't. Did I do it? Was it enough? Was giving everything over to you, keeping up the game, promising to marry Peeta enough? In answer, he gives an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

Chapter 6    So Katniss and Peeta gave it all and Snow is still not convinced so Katniss is like screw you I’ll run away. 

Only not here, not quite yet. It's essential to get back to District 12, because the main part of any plan will include my mother and sister, Gale and his family. And Peeta, if I can get him to come with us. I add Haymitch to the list. These are the people I must take with me when I escape into the wild. How I will convince them, where we will go in the dead of winter, what it will take to evade capture are unanswered questions. But at least now I know what I must do. So instead of crumpling to the ground and weeping, I find myself standing up straighter and with more confidence than I have in weeks. My smile, while somewhat insane, is not forced. And when President Snow silences the audience and says, "What do you think about us throwing them a wedding right here in the Capitol?" I pull off girl-almost-catatonic-with-joy without a hitch. Caesar Flickerman asks if the president has a date in mind. "Oh, before we set a date, we better clear it with Katniss's mother," says the president. The audience gives a big laugh and the president puts his arm around me. "Maybe if the whole country puts its mind to it, we can get you married before you're thirty." "You'll probably have to pass a new law," I say with a giggle. "If that's what it takes," says the president with conspiratorial good humor. Oh, the fun we two have together.

Chapter 6  ( The Party of the year) 

Peeta and I make no effort to find company but are constantly sought out. We are what no one wants to miss at the party. I act delighted, but I have zero interest in these Capitol people. They are only distractions from the food.

Just then Portia appears with a large man who looks vaguely familiar. She introduces him as Plutarch Heavensbee, the new Head Gamemaker. Plutarch asks Peeta if he can steal me for a dance. Peeta's recovered his camera face and good-naturedly passes me over, warning the man not to get too attached. I don't want to dance with Plutarch Heavensbee. I don't want to feel his hands, one resting against mine, one on my hip. I'm not used to being touched, except by Peeta or my family, and I rank Gamemakers somewhere below maggots in terms of creatures I want in contact with my skin. But he seems to sense this and holds me almost at arm's length as we turn on the floor.  ( Leaving room for Jesus as they say )  

Chapter 6 On the way home 

When I open my eyes, it's early afternoon. My head rests on Peeta's arm. I don't remember him coming in last night. I turn, being careful not to disturb him, but he's already awake. "No nightmares," he says. "What?" I ask. "You didn't have any nightmares last night," he says. He's right. For the first time in ages I've slept through the night. "I had a dream, though," I say, thinking back. "I was following a mockingjay through the woods. For a long time. It was Rue, really. I mean, when it sang, it had her voice." "Where did she take you?" he says, brushing my hair off my forehead. "I don't know. We never arrived," I say. "But I felt happy." "Well, you slept like you were happy," he says. "Peeta, how come I never know when you're having a nightmare?" I say. "I don't know. I don't think I cry out or thrash around or anything. I just come to, paralyzed with terror," he says. "You should wake me," I say, thinking about how I can interrupt his sleep two or three times on a bad night. About how long it can take to calm me down. "It's not necessary. My nightmares are usually about losing you," he says. "I'm okay once I realize you're here." Ugh. Peeta makes comments like this in such an offhand way, and it's like being hit in the gut. He's only answering my question honestly. He's not pressing me to reply in kind, to make any declaration of love. But I still feel awful, as if I've been using him in some terrible way. Have I? I don't know. I only know that for the first time, I feel immoral about him being here in my bed. Which is ironic since we're officially engaged now. "Be worse when we're home and I'm sleeping alone again," he says. That's right, we're almost home.

Chapter  7  ( Basically The 

"Been hunting?" he asks. You can see he doesn't think it's a good idea. "Not really. Going to town?" I ask. "Yes. I'm supposed to eat dinner with my family," he says. "Well, I can at least walk you in." The road from the Victor's Village to the square gets little use. It's a safe enough place to talk. But I can't seem to get the words out. Proposing it to Gale was such a disaster. I gnaw on my chapped lips. The square gets closer with every step. I may not have an opportunity again soon. I take a deep breath and let the words rush out. "Peeta, if I asked you to run away from the district with me, would you?" Peeta takes my arm, bringing me to a stop. He doesn't need to check my face to see if I'm serious. "Depends on why you're asking." "President Snow wasn't convinced by me. There's an uprising in District Eight. We have to get out," I say. "By 'we' do you mean just you and me? No. Who else would be going?" he asks. "My family. Yours, if they want to come. Haymitch, maybe," I say. "What about Gale?" he says. "I don't know. He might have other plans," I say. Peeta shakes his head and gives me a rueful smile. "I bet he does. Sure, Katniss, I'll go." I feel a slight twinge of hope. "You will?" "Yeah. But I don't think for a minute you will," he says. I jerk my arm away. "Then you don't know me. Be ready. It could be any time." I take off walking and he follows a pace or two behind. "Katniss," Peeta says. I don't slow down. If he thinks it's a bad idea, I don't want to know, because it's the only one I have. "Katniss, hold up." I kick a dirty, frozen chunk of snow off the path and let him catch up. The coal dust makes everything look especially ugly. "I really will go, if you want me to. I just think we better talk it through with Haymitch. Make sure we won't be making things worse for everyone." He raises his head. "What's that?" I lift my chin. I've been so consumed with my own worries, I haven't noticed the strange noise coming from the square. A whistling, the sound of an impact, the intake of breath from a crowd. "Come on," Peeta says, his face suddenly hard. I don't know why. I can't place the sound, even guess at the situation. But it means something bad to him. When we reach the square, it's clear something's happening, but the crowd's too thick to see. Peeta steps up on a crate against the wall of the sweetshop and offers me a hand while he scans the square. I'm halfway up when he suddenly blocks my way. "Get down. Get out of here!" He's whispering, but his voice is harsh with insistence. "What?" I say, trying to force my way back up. "Go home, Katniss! I'll be there in a minute, I swear!" he says. Whatever it is, it's terrible. I yank away from his hand and begin to push my way through the crowd. People see me, recognize my face, and then look panicked. Hands shove me back. Voices hiss. 

  Chapter 9  * After Gales Whipping* The next day.

Someone gives my shoulder a shake and I sit up. I've fallen asleep with my face on the table. The white cloth has left creases on my good cheek. The other, the one that took the lash from Thread, throbs painfully. Gale's dead to the world, but his fingers are locked around mine. I smell fresh bread and turn my stiff neck to find Peeta looking down at me with such a sad expression. I get the sense that he's been watching us awhile. "Go on up to bed, Katniss. I'll look after him now," he says. "Peeta. About what I said yesterday, about running - " I begin. "I know," he says. "There's nothing to explain." I see the loaves of bread on the counter in the pale, snowy morning light. The blue shadows under his eyes. I wonder if he slept at all. Couldn't have been long. I think of his agreeing to go with me yesterday, his stepping up beside me to protect Gale, his willingness to throw his lot in with mine entirely when I give him so little in return. No matter what I do, I'm hurting someone. "Peeta - " "Just go to bed, okay?" he says. 

  Chapter 9    Basically 

"I've heard worse," she says. "You've seen how people are, when someone they love is in pain." Someone they love. The words numb my tongue as if it's been packed in snow coat. Of course, I love Gale. But what kind of love does she mean? What do I mean when I say I love Gale? I don't know. I did kiss him last night, in a moment when my emotions were running so high. But I'm sure he doesn't remember it. Does he? I hope not. If he does, everything will just get more complicated and I really can't think about kissing when I've got a rebellion to incite. I give my head a little shake to clear it. "Where's Peeta?" I say. "He went home when we heard you stirring. Didn't want to leave his house unattended during the storm," says my mother. "Did he get back all right?" I ask. In a blizzard, you can get lost in a matter of yards and wander off course into oblivion. "Why don't you give him a call and check?" she says. I go into the study, a room I've pretty much avoided since my meeting with President Snow, and dial Peeta's number. After a few rings he answers. "Hey. I just wanted to make sure you got home," I say. "Katniss, I live three houses away from you," he says. "I know, but with the weather and all," I say. "Well, I'm fine. Thank you for checking." There's a long pause. "How's Gale?" "All right. My mother and Prim are giving him snow coat now," I say. "And your face?" he asks. "I've got some, too," I say. "Have you seen Haymitch today?" "I checked in on him. Dead drunk. But I built up his fire and left him some bread," he says. "I wanted to talk to - to both of you." I don't dare add more, here on my phone, which is surely tapped. "Probably have to wait until after the weather calms down," he says. "Nothing much will happen before that, anyway." "No, nothing much," I agree. It takes two days for the storm to blow itself out, leaving us with drifts higher than my head. Another day before the path is cleared from the Victor's Village to the square. During this time I help tend to Gale, apply snow coat to my cheek, try to remember everything I can about the uprising in District 8, in case it will help us. The swelling in my face goes down, leaving me with an itchy, healing wound and a very black eye. But still, the first chance I get, I call Peeta to see if he wants to go into town with me.

Chapter 9 Katniss and Peeta realize People fear them and the Peacekeepers too 

Nothing much will happen during the blizzard. That's what Peeta and I had agreed. But we couldn't have been more wrong. The square has been transformed. A huge banner with the seal of Panem hangs off the roof of the Justice Building. Peacekeepers, in pristine white uniforms, march on the cleanly swept cobblestones. Along the rooftops, more of them occupy nests of machine guns. Most unnerving is a line of new constructions - an official whipping post, several stockades, and a gallows - set up in the center of the square. "Thread's a quick worker," says Haymitch. Some streets away from the square, I see a blaze flare up. None of us has to say it. That can only be the Hob going up in smoke. I think of Greasy Sae, Ripper, all my friends who make their living there. "Haymitch, you don't think everyone was still in- - " I can't finish the sentence. "Nah, they're smarter than that. You'd be, too, if you'd been around longer," he says. "Well, I better go see how much rubbing alcohol the apothecary can spare." He trudges off across the square and I look at Peeta. "What's he want that for?" Then I realize the answer. "We can't let him drink it. He'll kill himself, or at the very least go blind. I've got some white liquor put away at home." "Me, too. Maybe that will hold him until Ripper finds a way to be back in business," says Peeta. "I need to check on my family." "I have to go see Hazelle." I'm worried now. I thought she'd be on our doorstep the moment the snow was cleared. But there's been no sign of her. "I'll go, too. Drop by the bakery on my way home," he says. "Thanks." I'm suddenly very scared at what I might find. The streets are almost deserted, which would not be so unusual at this time of day if people were at the mines, kids at school. But they're not. I see faces peeking at us out of doorways, through cracks in shutters. An uprising, I think. What an idiot I am. There's an inherent flaw in the plan that both Gale and I were too blind to see. An uprising requires breaking the law, thwarting authority. We've done that our whole lives, or our families have. Poaching, trading on the black market, mocking the Capitol in the woods. But for most people in District 12, a trip to buy something at the Hob would be too risky. And I expect them to assemble in the square with bricks and torches? Even the sight of Peeta and me is enough to make people pull their children away from the windows and draw the curtains tightly. We find Hazelle in her house, nursing a very sick Posy. I recognize the measles spots. "I couldn't leave her," she says. "I knew Gale'd be in the best possible hands." "Of course," I say. "He's much better. My mother says he'll be back in the mines in a couple of weeks." "May not be open until then, anyway," says Hazelle. "Word is they're closed until further notice." She gives a nervous glance at her empty washtub. "You closed down, too?" I ask. "Not officially," says Hazelle. "But everyone's afraid to use me now." "Maybe it's the snow," says Peeta. "No, Rory made a quick round this morning. Nothing to wash, apparently," she says. Rory wraps his arms around Hazelle. "We'll be all right." I take a handful of money from my pocket and lay it on the table. "My mother will send something for Posy." When we're outside, I turn to Peeta. "You go on back. I want to walk by the Hob." "I'll go with you," he says. "No. I've dragged you into enough trouble," I tell him. "And avoiding a stroll by the Hob ... that's going to fix things for me?" He smiles and takes my hand. Together we wind through the streets of the Seam until we reach the burning building. They haven't even bothered to leave Peacekeepers around it. They know no one would try to save it. The heat from the flames melts the surrounding snow and a black trickle runs across my shoes. "It's all that coal dust, from the old days," I say. It was in every crack and crevice. Ground into the floorboards. It's amazing the place didn't go up before. "I want to check on Greasy Sae." "Not today, Katniss. I don't think we'd be helping anyone by dropping in on them," he says. We go back to the square. I buy some cakes from Peeta's father while they exchange small talk about the weather. No one mentions the ugly tools of torture just yards from the front door. The last thing I notice as we leave the square is that I do not recognize even one of the Peacekeepers' faces.

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

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

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

"Oh, good," says my mother, examining the cloth. "We're running low on bandages."

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

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

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

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

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

"Didn't it already?" I ask, a little too innocently.

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

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

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

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

"What is it?" says Peeta, holding me steadily. "Oh, I banged up my left foot. The heel. And my tail-bone's had a bad day, too." He helps me over to one of the rockers and I lower myself onto the padded cushion. My mother eases off my boots. "What happened?" "I slipped and fell," I say. Four pairs of eyes look at me with disbelief. "On some ice." But we all know the house must be bugged and it's not safe to talk openly. Not here, not now. Having stripped off my sock, my mother's fingers probe the bones in my left heel and I wince. "There might be a break," she says. She checks the other foot. "This one seems all right." She judges my tailbone to be badly bruised. Prim's dispatched to get my pajamas and robe. When I'm changed, my mother makes a snow pack for my left heel and props it up on a hassock. I eat three bowls of stew and half a loaf of bread while the others dine at the table. I stare at the fire, thinking of Bonnie and Twill, hoping that the heavy, wet snow has erased my tracks. Prim comes and sits on the floor next to me, leaning her head against my knee. We suck on peppermints as I brush her soft blond hair back behind her ear. "How was school?" I ask. "All right. We learned about coal by-products," she says. We stare at the fire for a while. "Are you going to try on your wedding dresses?" "Not tonight. Tomorrow probably," I say. "Wait until I get home, okay?" she says. "Sure." If they don't arrest me first. My mother gives me a cup of chamomile tea with a dose of sleep syrup, and my eyelids begin to droop immediately. She wraps my bad foot, and Peeta volunteers to get me to bed. I start out by leaning on his shoulder, but I'm so wobbly he just scoops me up and carries me upstairs. He tucks me in and says good night but I catch his hand and hold him there. A side effect of the sleep syrup is that it makes people less inhibited, like white liquor, and I know I have to control my tongue. But I don't want him to go. In fact, I want him to climb in with me, to be there when the nightmares hit tonight. For some reason that I can't quite form, I know I'm not allowed to ask that. "Don't go yet. Not until I fall asleep," I say. Peeta sits on the side of the bed, warming my hand in both of his. "Almost thought you'd changed your mind today. When you were late for dinner." I'm foggy but I can guess what he means. With the fence going on and me showing up late and the Peacekeepers waiting, he thought I'd made a run for it, maybe with Gale. "No, I'd have told you," I say. I pull his hand up and lean my cheek against the back of it, taking in the faint scent of cinnamon and dill from the breads he must have baked today. I want to tell him about Twill and Bonnie and the uprising and the fantasy of District 13, but it's not safe to and I can feel myself slipping away, so I just get out one more sentence. "Stay with me." As the tendrils of sleep syrup pull me down, I hear him whisper a word back, but I don't quite catch it.

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

Chapter 12 

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

Chapter 13

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

Chapter 14  ( Basically they Start training like Caeers the way it’s writen the song  Under pressure would  fit well so Now they are  on there way to the games again) Also sobering Haymitch up...    ( And Peeta has been the drill sargent )  In this part he has a change of heart.

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

Chapter  14  They decide to watch Haymitch’s Games  ( Okay call me mean I am skipping over Haymitch’s Games because this would be extra long) 

"It's the only Quell we have. We might pick up something valuable about how they work," I say. But I feel weird. It seems like some major invasion of Haymitch's privacy. I don't know why it should, since the whole thing was public. But it does. I have to admit I'm also extremely curious. "We don't have to tell Haymitch we saw it." "Okay," Peeta agrees. He puts in the tape and I curl up next to him on the couch with my milk, which is really delicious with the honey and spices, and lose myself in the Fiftieth Hunger Games. After the anthem, they show President Snow drawing the envelope for the second Quarter Quell. He looks younger but just as repellent. He reads from the square of paper in the same onerous voice he used for ours, informing Panem that in honor of the Quarter Quell, there will be twice the number of tributes. The editors smash cut right into the reapings, where name after name after name is called.  

Peeta clicks off the tape and we sit there in silence for a while. Finally Peeta says, "That force field at the bottom of the cliff, it was like the one on the roof of the Training Center. The one that throws you back if you try to jump off and commit suicide. Haymitch found a way to turn it into a weapon." "Not just against the other tributes, but the Capitol, too," I say. "You know they didn't expect that to happen. It wasn't meant to be part of the arena. They never planned on anyone using it as a weapon. It made them look stupid that he figured it out. I bet they had a good time trying to spin that one. Bet that's why I don't remember seeing it on television. It's almost as bad as us and the berries!" I can't help laughing, really laughing, for the first time in months. Peeta just shakes his head like I've lost my mind - and maybe I have, a little. "Almost, but not quite," says Haymitch from behind us. I whip around, afraid he's going to be angry over us watching his tape, but he just smirks and takes a swig from a bottle of wine. So much for sobriety. I guess I should be upset he's drinking again, but I'm preoccupied with another feeling. I've spent all these weeks getting to know who my competitors are, without even thinking about who my teammates are. Now a new kind of confidence is lighting up inside of me, because I think I finally know who Haymitch is. And I'm beginning to know who I am. And surely, two people who have caused the Capitol so much trouble can think of a way to get Peeta home alive.

Chapter  15  

It's interesting, though, when I think of what Peeta said about the attendant on the train being unhappy about the victors having to fight again. About people in the Capitol not liking it. I still think all of that will be forgotten once the gong sounds, but it's something of a revelation that those in the Capitol feel anything at all about us. They certainly don't have a problem watching children murdered every year. But maybe they know too much about the victors, especially the ones who've been celebrities for ages, to forget we're human beings. It's more like watching your own friends die. More like the Games are for those of us in the districts.

For some stupid reason, I blush, but I force myself to hold my ground. "No, I'm an open book," I whisper back. "Everybody seems to know my secrets before I know them myself." He smiles. "Unfortunately, I think that's true." His eyes flicker off to the side. "Peeta is coming. Sorry you have to cancel your wedding. I know how devastating that must be for you." He tosses another sugar cube in his mouth and saunters off. Peeta's beside me, dressed in an outfit identical to mine. "What did Finnick Odair want?" he asks. I turn and put my lips close to Peeta's and drop my eyelids in imitation of Finnick. "He offered me sugar and wanted to know all my secrets," I say in my best seductive voice.

Peeta laughs. "Ugh. Not really."

"Really," I say. "I'll tell you more when my skin stops crawling."

"Do you think we'd have ended up like this if only one of us had won?" he asks, glancing around at the other victors. "Just another part of the freak show?"

"Sure. Especially you," I say.

"Oh. And why especially me?" he says with a smile.

"Because you have a weakness for beautiful things and I don't," I say with an air of superiority. "They would lure you into their Capitol ways and you'd be lost entirely."

"Having an eye for beauty isn't the same thing as a weakness," Peeta points out. "Except possibly when it comes to you." The music is beginning and I see the wide doors opening for the first chariot, hear the roar of the crowd. "Shall we?" He holds out a hand to help me into the chariot.

I climb up and pull him up after me. "Hold still," I say, and straighten his crown. "Have you seen your suit turned on? We're going to be fabulous again."

"Absolutely. But Portia says we're to be very above it all. No waving or anything," he says. "Where are they, anyway?"

"I don't know." I eye the procession of chariots. "Maybe we better go ahead and switch ourselves on." We do, and as we begin to glow, I can see people pointing at us and chattering, and I know that, once again, we'll be the talk of the opening ceremonies. We're almost at the door. I crane my head around, but neither Portia nor Cinna, who were with us right up to the final second last year, are anywhere in sight. "Are we supposed to hold hands this year?" I ask.

"I guess they've left it up to us," says Peeta.

I look up into those blue eyes that no amount of dramatic makeup can make truly deadly and remember how, just a year ago, I was prepared to kill him. Convinced he was trying to kill me. Now everything is reversed. I'm determined to keep him alive, knowing the cost will be my own life, but the part of me that is not so brave as I could wish is glad that it's Peeta, not Haymitch, beside me. Our hands find each other without further discussion. Of course we will go into this as one.

The voice of the crowd rises into one universal scream as we roll into the fading evening light, but neither one of us reacts. I simply fix my eyes on a point far in the distance and pretend there is no audience, no hysteria. I can't help catching glimpses of us on the huge screens along the route, and we are not just beautiful, we are dark and powerful. No, more. We star-crossed lovers from District 12, who suffered so much and enjoyed so little the rewards of our victory, do not seek the fans' favor, grace them with our smiles, or catch their kisses. We are unforgiving.

And I love it. Getting to be myself at last. 

Chapter 16

"What are you so angry about?" Peeta asks, wiping the gravy from his shirtfront. "Because I teased you on the elevator? I'm sorry. I thought you would just laugh about it." "Forget it," I say with a shake of my head. "It's a lot of things." "Darius," he says. "Darius. The Games. Haymitch making us team up with the others," I say. "It can just be you and me, you know," he says. "I know. But maybe Haymitch is right," I say. "Don't tell him I said so, but he usually is, where the Games are concerned." "Well, you can have final say about our allies. But right now, I'm leaning toward Chaff and Seeder," says Peeta. "I'm okay with Seeder, not Chaff," I say. "Not yet, anyway." "Come on and eat with him. I promise, I won't let him kiss you again," says Peeta.

After training, Peeta and I hang out, waiting for Haymitch and Effie to show up for dinner. When we're called to eat, Haymitch pounces on me immediately. "So at least half the victors have instructed their mentors to request you as an ally. I know it can't be your sunny personality." "They saw her shoot," says Peeta with a smile. "Actually, I saw her shoot, for real, for the first time. I'm about to put in a formal request myself." "You're that good?" Haymitch asks me. "So good that Brutus wants you?" I shrug. "But I don't want Brutus. I want Mags and District Three." "Of course you do." Haymitch sighs and orders a bottle of wine. "I'll tell everybody you're still making up your mind." After my shooting exhibition, I still get teased some, but I no longer feel like I'm being mocked. In fact, I feel as if I've somehow been initiated into the victors' circle. During the next two days, I spend time with almost everybody headed for the arena. Even the morphlings, who, with Peeta's help, paint me into a field of yellow flowers. Even Finnick, who gives me an hour of trident lessons in exchange for an hour of archery instruction. And the more I come to know these people, the worse it is. Because, on the whole, I don't hate them. And some I like. And a lot of them are so damaged that my natural instinct would be to protect them. But all of them must die if I'm to save Peeta.  

Chapter 17   Okay short form prior they admitted in there  seassons what they did and Kinda forbidden stuff. Now Haymitch has to do DAMAGE Control. 

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

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

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

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

"No nightmares," he says.

"No nightmares," I confirm. "You?"

"None. I'd forgotten what a real night's sleep feels like," he says.

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

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

"It's too bad we can't go somewhere," I say wistfully.

"Who says we can't?" he asks.

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

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

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

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

I can hear the smile in his voice. "Then you'll allow it?"

"I'll allow it," I say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peeta has to return to his room for prep, and I'm left alone with Venia and Flavius. The usual chatter has been suspended. In fact, there's little talk at all, other than to have me raise my chin or comment on a makeup technique. It's nearly lunch when I feel something dripping on my shoulder and turn to find Flavius, who's snipping away at my hair with silent tears running down his face. Venia gives him a look, and he gently sets the scissors on the table and leaves.

Katniss talking about the toasting 

Back home everything is so much simpler. A woman usually rents a white dress that's been worn hundreds of times. The man wears something clean that's not mining clothes. They fill out some forms at the Justice Building and are assigned a house. Family and friends gather for a meal or bit of cake, if it can be afforded. Even if it can't, there's always a traditional song we sing as the new couple crosses the threshold of their home. And we have our own little ceremony, where they make their first fire, toast a bit of bread, and share it. Maybe it's old-fashioned, but no one really feels married in District 12 until after the toasting.

Chapter 17 Katnisses Interview 

By the time I'm introduced, the audience is an absolute wreck. People have been weeping and collapsing and even calling for change. The sight of me in my white silk bridal gown practically causes a riot. No more me, no more star-crossed lovers living happily ever after, no more wedding. I can see even Caesar's professionalism showing some cracks as he tries to quiet them so I can speak, but my three minutes are ticking quickly away. Finally there's a lull and he gets out, "So, Katniss, obviously this is a very emotional night for everyone. Is there anything you'd like to say?" My voice trembles as I speak. "Only that I'm so sorry you won't get to be at my wedding ... but I'm glad you at least get to see me in my dress. Isn't it just ... the most beautiful thing?" I don't have to look at Cinna for a signal. I know this is the right time. I begin to twirl slowly, raising the sleeves of my heavy gown above my head. When I hear the screams of the crowd, I think it's because I must look stunning. Then I notice something is rising up around me. Smoke. From fire. Not the flickery stuff I wore last year in the chariot, but something much more real that devours my dress. I begin to panic as the smoke thickens. Charred bits of black silk swirl into the air, and pearls clatter to the stage. Somehow I'm afraid to stop because my flesh doesn't seem to be burning and I know Cinna must be behind whatever is happening. So I keep spinning and spinning. For a split second I'm gasping, completely engulfed in the strange flames. Then all at once, the fire is gone. I slowly come to a stop, wondering if I'm naked and why Cinna has arranged to burn away my wedding dress. But I'm not naked. I'm in a dress of the exact design of my wedding dress, only it's the color of coal and made of tiny feathers. Wonderingly, I lift my long, flowing sleeves into the air, and that's when I see myself on the television screen. Clothed in black except for the white patches on my sleeves. Or should I say my wings. Because Cinna has turned me into a mockingjay.

Chapter 18 

I'm still smoldering a little, so it's with a tentative hand that Caesar reaches out to touch my headpiece. The white has burned away, leaving a smooth, fitted veil of black that drapes into the neckline of the dress in the back. "Feathers," says Caesar. "You're like a bird." "A mockingjay, I think," I say, giving my wings a small flap. "It's the bird on the pin I wear as a token." A shadow of recognition flickers across Caesar's face, and I can tell he knows that the mockingjay isn't just my token. That it's come to symbolize so much more. That what will be seen as a flashy costume change in the Capitol is resonating in an entirely different way throughout the districts. But he makes the best of it. "Well, hats off to your stylist. I don't think anyone can argue that that's not the most spectacular thing we've ever seen in an interview. Cinna, I think you better take a bow!" Caesar gestures for Cinna to rise. He does, and makes a small, gracious bow. And suddenly I am so afraid for him. What has he done? Something terribly dangerous. An act of rebellion in itself. And he's done it for me. I remember his words ... "Don't worry. I always channel my emotions into my work. That way I don't hurt anyone but myself." ... and I'm afraid he has hurt himself beyond repair. The significance of my fiery transformation will not be lost on President Snow. The audience, who's been stunned into silence, breaks into wild applause. I can barely hear the buzzer that indicates that my three minutes are up. Caesar thanks me and I go back to my seat, my dress now feeling lighter than air.

Chapter 18 Peeta’s interview 

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

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

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

We walk down the hallway. Peeta wants to stop by his room to shower off the makeup and meet me in a few minutes, but I won't let him. I'm certain that if a door shuts between us, it will lock and I'll have to spend the night without him. Besides, I have a shower in my room. I refuse to let go of his hand. Do we sleep? I don't know. We spend the night holding each other, in some halfway land between dreams and waking. Not talking. Both afraid to disturb the other in the hope that we'll be able to store up a few precious minutes of rest. Cinna and Portia arrive with the dawn, and I know Peeta will have to go. Tributes enter the arena alone. He gives me a light kiss. "See you soon," he says. "See you soon," I answer. Chapter  19 

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

"Hello, again," he says, and gives me a kiss. "We've got allies."

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

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

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

Chapter 19 and 20 

But there is no other side. I know this before anyone else, even though I am farthest from the top. My eyes catch on a funny, rippling square hanging like a warped pane of glass in the air. At first I think it's the glare from the sun or the heat shimmering up off the ground. But it's fixed in space, not shifting when I move. And that's when I connect the square with Wiress and Beetee in the Training Center and realize what lies before us. My warning cry is just reaching my lips when Peeta's knife swings out to slash away some vines. There's a sharp zapping sound. For an instant, the trees are gone and I see open space over a short stretch of bare earth. Then Peeta's flung back from the force field, bringing Finnick and Mags to the ground. I rush over to where he lies, motionless in a web of vines. "Peeta?" There's a faint smell of singed hair. I call his name again, giving him a little shake, but he's unresponsive. My fingers fumble across his lips, where there's no warm breath although moments ago he was panting. I press my ear against his chest, to the spot where I always rest my head, where I know I will hear the strong and steady beat of his heart. Instead, I find silence.

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

Chapter 22 

"Poor Finnick. Is this the first time in your life you haven't looked pretty?" I say. "It must be. The sensation's completely new. How have you managed it all these years?" he asks. "Just avoid mirrors. You'll forget about it," I say. "Not if I keep looking at you," he says. We slather ourselves down, even taking turns rubbing the ointment into each other's backs where the undershirts don't protect our skin. "I'm going to wake Peeta," I say. "No, wait," says Finnick. "Let's do it together. Put our faces right in front of his." Well, there's so little opportunity for fun left in my life, I agree. We position ourselves on either side of Peeta, lean over until our faces are inches from his nose, and give him a shake. "Peeta. Peeta, wake up," I say in a soft, singsong voice. His eyelids flutter open and then he jumps like we've stabbed him. "Aa!" Finnick and I fall back in the sand, laughing our heads off. Every time we try to stop, we look at Peeta's attempt to maintain a disdainful expression and it sets us off again. By the time we pull ourselves together, I'm thinking that maybe Finnick Odair is all right. At least not as vain or self-important as I'd thought. Not so bad at all, really. And just as I've come to this conclusion, a parachute lands next to us with a fresh loaf of bread. Remembering from last year how Haymitch's gifts are often timed to send a message, I make a note to myself. Be friends with Finnick. You'll get food. Chapter 23

Johanna narrows her brown eyes at me in hatred. "Lay off her?" she hisses. She steps forward before I can react and slaps me so hard I see stars. "Who do you think got them out of that bleeding jungle for you? You - " Finnick tosses her writhing body over his shoulder and carries her out into the water and repeatedly dunks her while she screams a lot of really insulting things at me. But I don't shoot. Because she's with Finnick and because of what she said, about getting them for me. "What did she mean? She got them for me?" I ask Peeta. "I don't know. You did want them originally," he reminds me. "Yeah, I did. Originally." But that answers nothing. I look down at Beetee's inert body. "But I won't have them long unless we do something.

Chapter 24

know it's stopped when I feel Peeta's hands on me, feel myself lifted from the ground and out of the jungle. But I stay eyes squeezed shut, hands over my ears, muscles too rigid to release. Peeta holds me on his lap, speaking soothing words, rocking me gently. It takes a long time before I begin to relax the iron grip on my body. And when I do, the trembling begins. "It's all right, Katniss," he whispers. "You didn't hear them," I answer. "I heard Prim. Right in the beginning. But it wasn't her," he says. "It was a jabberjay." "It was her. Somewhere. The jabberjay just recorded it," I say. "No, that's what they want you to think. The same way I wondered if Glimmer's eyes were in that mutt last year. But those weren't Glimmer's eyes. And that wasn't Prim's voice. Or if it was, they took it from an interview or something and distorted the sound. Made it say whatever she was saying," he says. "No, they were torturing her," I answer. "She's probably dead." "Katniss, Prim isn't dead. How could they kill Prim? We're almost down to the final eight of us. And what happens then?" Peeta says. "Seven more of us die," I say hopelessly. "No, back home. What happens when they reach the final eight tributes in the Games?" He lifts my chin so I have to look at him. Forces me to make eye contact. "What happens? At the final eight?" I know he's trying to help me, so I make myself think. "At the final eight?" I repeat. "They interview your family and friends back home." "That's right," says Peeta. "They interview your family and friends. And can they do that if they've killed them all?" "No?" I ask, still unsure. "No. That's how we know Prim's alive. She'll be the first one they interview, won't she?" he asks. I want to believe him. Badly. It's just ... those voices ... "First Prim. Then your mother. Your cousin, Gale. Madge," he continues. "It was a trick, Katniss. A horrible one. But we're the only ones who can be hurt by it. We're the ones in the Games. Not them." "You really believe that?" I say. "I really do," says Peeta. I waver, thinking of how Peeta can make anyone believe anything. I look over at Finnick for confirmation, see he's fixated on Peeta, his words. "Do you believe it, Finnick?" I ask. "It could be true. I don't know," he says. "Could they do that, Beetee? Take someone's regular voice and make it ..." "Oh, yes. It's not even that difficult, Finnick. Our children learn a similar technique in school," says Beetee. "Of course Peeta's right. The whole country adores Katniss's little sister. If they really killed her like this, they'd probably have an uprising on their hands," says Johanna flatly. "Don't want that, do they?" She throws back her head and shouts, "Whole country in rebellion? Wouldn't want anything like that!" My mouth drops open in shock. No one, ever, says anything like this in the Games. Absolutely, they've cut away from Johanna, are editing her out. But I have heard her and can never think about her again in the same way. She'll never win any awards for kindness, but she certainly is gutsy. Or crazy. She picks up some shells and heads toward the jungle. "I'm getting water," she says. I can't help catching her hand as she passes me. "Don't go in there. The birds - " I remember the birds must be gone, but I still don't want anyone in there. Not even her.

THE BEACH SCENE  Chapter 24 if your wondering 

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

Chapter 25 

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

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

Chapter 26  

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

Mockingjay . 

Chapter 3 

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

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

"We're not cousins," Gale and I say together.

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

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

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

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

"No," says Coin flatly.

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

"They'll be tried with other war criminals and treated as the tribunal sees fit," she says.

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

My words hang in the air for a long moment.

Chapter 16 

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

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

Chapter 17 

"Yeah," I say. "Made it through somehow." I don't want to talk about Peeta. One of the best things about training is, it keeps me from thinking of him. "Haymitch says he's getting better," she says. "Maybe. But he's changed," I say. "So have you. So have I. And Finnick and Haymitch and Beetee. Don't get me started on Annie Cresta. The arena messed us all up pretty good, don't you think? Or do you still feel like the girl who volunteered for your sister?" she asks me.

"No," I answer.

"That's the one thing I think my head doctor might be right about. There's no going back. So we might as well get on with things." She neatly returns my keepsakes to the drawer and climbs into the bed across from me just as the lights go out. "You're not afraid I'll kill you tonight?"

"Like I couldn't take you," I answer. Then we laugh, since both our bodies are so wrecked, it will be a miracle if we can get up the next day. But we do. Each morning, we do. And by the end of the week, my ribs feel almost like new, and Johanna can assemble her rifle without help.

Peeta makes a little gesture with his spoon, connecting Gale and me. "So, are you two officially a couple now, or are they still dragging out the star-crossed lover thing?" "Still dragging," says Johanna. Spasms cause Peeta's hands to tighten into fists, then splay out in a bizarre fashion. Is it all he can do to keep them from my neck? I can feel the tension in Gale's muscles next to me, fear an altercation. But Gale simply says, "I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it myself." "What's that?" asks Peeta. "You," Gale answers. "You'll have to be a little more specific," says Peeta. "What about me?" "That they've replaced you with the evil-mutt version of yourself," says Johanna. Gale finishes his milk. "You done?" he asks me. I rise and we cross to drop off our trays. At the door, an old man stops me because I'm still clutching the rest of my gravy bread in my hand. Something in my expression, or maybe the fact that I've made no attempt to conceal it, makes him go easy on me. He lets me stuff the bread in my mouth and move on. Gale and I are almost to my compartment when he speaks again. "I didn't expect that."

Chapter 18 

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

The following evening, the newest member of our squad arrives. With no manacles. No guards. Strolling out of the train station with his gun swinging from the strap over his shoulder. There's shock, confusion, resistance, but451 is stamped on the back of Peeta's hand in fresh ink. Boggs relieves him of his weapon and goes to make a call. "It won't matter," Peeta tells the rest of us. "The president assigned me herself. She decided the propos needed some heating up." Maybe they do. But if Coin sent Peeta here, she's decided something else as well. That I'm of more use to her dead than alive.

Chapter 19

Squad 451 and the television crew collect dinner from the canteen and gather in a tense circle to eat. At first I think that Peeta is the cause of the unease, but by the end of the meal, I realize more than a few unfriendly looks have been directed my way. This is a quick turnaround, since I'm pretty sure when Peeta appeared the whole team was concerned about how dangerous he might be, especially to me. But it's not until I get a phone call through to Haymitch that I understand. "What are you trying to do? Provoke him into an attack?" he asks me. "Of course not. I just want him to leave me alone," I say. "Well, he can't. Not after what the Capitol put him through," says Haymitch. "Look, Coin may have sent him there hoping he'd kill you, but Peeta doesn't know that. He doesn't understand what's happened to him. So you can't blame him - "

"I don't!" I say.

"You do! You're punishing him over and over for things that are out of his control. Now, I'm not saying you shouldn't have a fully loaded weapon next to you round the clock. But I think it's time you flipped this little scenario around in your head. If you'd been taken by the Capitol, and hijacked, and then tried to kill Peeta, is this the way he would be treating you?" demands Haymitch.

I fall silent. It isn't. It isn't how he would be treating me at all. He would be trying to get me back at any cost. Not shutting me out, abandoning me, greeting me with hostility at every turn.

"You and me, we made a deal to try and save him. Remember?" Haymitch says. When I don't respond, he disconnects after a curt "Try and remember."

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

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

Chapter 20 

Isn't it obvious?" No one even knew Peeta had regained consciousness. I don't know how long he's been watching, but by the look of misery on his face, long enough to see what happened on the street. How he went mad, tried to bash my head in, and hurled Mitchell into the pod. He painfully pushes himself up to a sitting position and directs his words to Gale. "Our next move...is to kill me."

Chapter 21 

That makes two requests for Peeta's death in less than an hour. "Don't be ridiculous," says Jackson. "I just murdered a member of our squad!" shouts Peeta. "You pushed him off you. You couldn't have known he would trigger the net at that exact spot," says Finnick, trying to calm him. "Who cares? He's dead, isn't he?" Tears begin to run down Peeta's face. "I didn't know. I've never seen myself like that before. Katniss is right. I'm the monster. I'm the mutt. I'm the one Snow has turned into a weapon!" "It's not your fault, Peeta," says Finnick. "You can't take me with you. It's only a matter of time before I kill someone else." Peeta looks around at our conflicted faces. "Maybe you think it's kinder to just dump me somewhere. Let me take my chances. But that's the same thing as handing me over to the Capitol. Do you think you'd be doing me a favor by sending me back to Snow?" Peeta. Back in Snow's hands. Tortured and tormented until no bits of his former self will ever emerge again. For some reason, the last stanza to "The Hanging Tree" starts running through my head. The one where the man wants his lover dead rather than have her face the evil that awaits her in the world. ‘

Chapter 21

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

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

Chapter 22 

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

Chapter 23 

While Cressida and Pollux make fur nests for each of us, I attend to Peeta's wrists. Gently rinsing away the blood, putting on an antiseptic, and bandaging them beneath the cuffs. "You've got to keep them clean, otherwise the infection could spread and - " "I know what blood poisoning is, Katniss," says Peeta. "Even if my mother isn't a healer." I'm jolted back in time, to another wound, another set of bandages. "You said that same thing to me in the first Hunger Games. Real or not real?" "Real," he says. "And you risked your life getting the medicine that saved me?" "Real." I shrug. "You were the reason I was alive to do it." "Was I?" The comment throws him into confusion. Some shiny memory must be fighting for his attention, because his body tenses and his newly bandaged wrists strain against the metal cuffs. Then all the energy saps from his body. "I'm so tired, Katniss." "Go to sleep," I say. He won't until I've rearranged his handcuffs and shackled him to one of the stair supports. It can't be comfortable, lying there with his arms above his head. But in a few minutes, he drifts off, too.

Chapter 23 

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Trust me, Plutarch's thrilled," Cressida adds.

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 24 

"I'm leaving in the morning," I say. "I'm going with you," Gale says. "What should we do with the others?" "Pollux and Cressida could be useful. They're good guides," I say. Pollux and Cressida aren't actually the problem. "But Peeta's too..." "Unpredictable," finishes Gale. "Do you think he'd still let us leave him behind?" "We can make the argument that he'll endanger us," I say. "He might stay here, if we're convincing." Peeta's fairly rational about our suggestion. He readily agrees that his company could put the other four of us at risk. I'm thinking this may all work out, that he can just sit out the war in Tigris's cellar, when he announces he's going out on his own. "To do what?" asks Cressida. "I'm not sure exactly. The one thing that I might still be useful at is causing a diversion. You saw what happened to that man who looked like me," he says. "What if you...lose control?" I say. "You mean...go mutt? Well, if I feel that coming on, I'll try to get back here," he assures me. "And if Snow gets you again?" asks Gale. "You don't even have a gun." "I'll just have to take my chances," says Peeta. "Like the rest of you." The two exchange a long look, and then Gale reaches into his breast pocket. He places his nightlock tablet in Peeta's hand. Peeta lets it lie on his open palm, neither rejecting nor accepting it. "What about you?" "Don't worry. Beetee showed me how to detonate my explosive arrows by hand. If that fails, I've got my knife. And I'll have Katniss," says Gale with a smile. "She won't give them the satisfaction of taking me alive." The thought of Peacekeepers dragging Gale away starts the tune playing in my head again.... Are you, are you Coming to the tree "Take it, Peeta," I say in a strained voice. I reach out and close his fingers over the pill. "No one will be there to help you."

Chapter 27

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

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

epilogue

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

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

Here the daisies guard you from every harm

Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true

Here is the place where I love you.

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

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

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

But there are much worse games to play.

#thg #everlark #The Hunger Games #Hunger Games #CatchingFire #catching fire #mockingjay #cf #Peeta #Peeta Mellark #katniss and peeta #Katniss #katniss everdeen #mockingjay part 1 #mockingjay part 2 #every everlark moment

[joannie95]

Legacy- Part 36

Pairing: Carter!reader x ?????

Summary:  Everyone knows Peggy Carter is a force to be reckoned with, who could have guessed her granddaughter would hold the same ferocity, if not more.This story follows y/n Carter’s life as she faces the obstacles life pitches her.

Warnings: Swearing, mentioned death

A/N: Thank you to @mo320 and @hermionie-is-my-queen for proofreading and helping with the ideas for this chapter, thank you to @writeyourmindaway for making these awesome text dividers im so excited to use them all

Once you reach the bridge you come face to face with Phil, before you get a chance to say anything he pulls you into a tight hug.

"I'm so sorry Phil." It's no secret that he's been a father figure for a while now, one of your biggest fears is that you'll disappoint him. Leaving him behind without a word was difficult to do.

"You don’t ever have to apologize, you did what you thought was best for you. You're back now and that's all that matters." 

Once he let's go things just seem to fall into place as if you never left.

"So I heard you fangirled and made an absolute fool of yourself in front of Steve Rogers." You laughed when you noticed his face go red.

"I did not make a fool of myself." He tried to argue.

"Oh, Steve, I'm such a huge fan, you know I watched you sleep. I helped design your new suit. I hope you like it, I love you." You mocked his voice in an exaggerated tone. 

He playfully shoved you. "I really missed you kid."

"I missed you too." You look up when you hear someone clear their throat.

"Agent Carter." Nick is giving you an unreadable look. "It's good to have you back."

You nod and give him a quick smile. "It's good to be back sir." Once he walked away you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and waited for the rest of the team to make their way inside. 

You noticed how amazed Steve and Bruce were of everything around them. To your side Natasha opened a file on Clint, you walked behind her and put your hand on her shoulder trying to assure her you'll find him. She stands up and gives you a quick but warm smile before showing Bruce to the lab.

You and Darcy watch Phil nearly make a fool of himself while he asks Steve to sign his near mint condition trading cards. Something you knew he was always proud to show off. They're interrupted when Jasper Sitwell gives them the location of the man you're looking for.

"Captain, Carter." Fury looks towards the both of you. "You're up." 

You both quickly nod and go off to change into your stealth suit. Once you're dressed you roll your shoulders trying to adjust to the feeling. 

Darcy walks up behind you with your sword in her hands. "I made sure no one put their hands on it since you left." 

You take the sword and unsheathe it. "Oh how I've missed you." You put it back and quickly attach it to the back of your suit.

Darcy gives you a hesitant look. "Are you ready?" 

You let out a breath. "Ready as I'll ever be." You both make your way to the quinjet to meet up with Natasha and Steve and head off to Stuttgart, Germany.

On the quinjet you stand near Natasha and Darcy in the hopes that you don't make an absolute fool of yourself in front of Steve. 

"Go over there." Darcy mumbles towards you.

"Darcy, shut up." You mumble back before looking behind you making sure he didn't hear you.

Natasha quietly laughs and rolls her eyes. "We're 5 minutes out prepare to land." 

You walk towards the back of the quinjet and stand next to Steve. "Hi." You mumble awkwardly.

"Hi." He looks down as he talks trying to avoid your gaze. "So. How long have you worked for S.H.I.E.L.D?" 

"Um, about 9 years. I started off in a lab and worked my way up." 

"That's good." He started flexing his hands. "So-." 

He was about to ask you something when he was interrupted by Natasha. "Alright, we're here."

He opened up the ramp and looked towards you. "See you down there." And immediately jumped after.

Before you could second guess yourself you followed his lead and jumped. When you land you see Loki knock Steve to the side. You quickly unsheathe your sword and swing towards Loki, he deflects your sword with his staff. Like second nature you continue to swing your sword and deflect his attack. All you hear is the clang from your sword hitting his staff. Before you can dodge it you feel his staff hit your back and knock you down. You hear Steve stand up and begin to fight Loki again. After a few good hits he's knocked down once again.

As you're about to get back up you see someone you hoped you'd never have to see again. "You've got to be kidding me." You sheathe your sword just as Loki raises his hands to surrender. You walk towards the quinjet hoping to ignore the thorn in your side that is Tony Stark.

You stand towards the front with Darcy and Natasha as they fly the jet back to the helicarrier. "I swear, if either of you knew about this-" Your hand starts to grip the back of their chairs.

"We didn't." Darcy looks up at you. "I know we didn't tell you about Steve but trust us, we would never keep this a secret." 

You start to calm down, you look up once you see flashes of lightning and roars of thunder. "Where did this come from?" There's a crash on top of the quinjet and you all look up.

Stark opens the ramp. Seconds after, you see a blond muscular man with a hammer enter before quickly grabbing Loki and jumping out. Immediately after you see Stark walk to the edge of the ramp and fly out of the quinjet, Steve grabs a parachute and prepares to jump as you quickly follow suit.

"I'd sit this one out guys." Natasha speaks up as she continues to pilot the quinjet.

Before you get a chance to respond you see Steve jump out of the quinjet head first, you follow his lead and jump out seconds later.

You both land in a forest, up ahead you see Stark and the man from earlier in the middle of a fight. Steve throws his shield and it ricochets off both their chests. "Hey!" He calls out to them. "That's enough! I don't know what you plan on doing here-." He continues before being interpreted by the blond man.

"I've come here to put an end to Loki's schemes." He speaks up in a commanding tone.

You hesitantly take a step forward. "Then prove it, put the hammer down."

"Uh, yeah! No! Bad call, he loves his hammer."

You glare at Stark and roll your eyes. He always had to make a joke of everything.

The man swings his hammer back and knocks Stark behind him. "You want me to put the hammer down?" He leaps up and swings his hammer preparing to strike.

You feel Steve pull you behind him as he raises his shield above your heads. When the two connect there is a loud boom and a flash of light. The four of you are thrown backwards.

You slowly start to get up and look at the destruction around you. "Are we done?"

You've all returned to the bridge of the helicarrier. The blond man who you've learned is Thor is telling you about Loki's plan with the tesseract. A chitauri army invading earth, you all continue to discuss it when Phil and Stark enter the room.

As always, Stark acts like the know-it-all he is, and tries to take charge. He starts messing with the screens in front of him when you notice him place a small disk under the desk. You look around but no one else seemed to have noticed what he did. 

You look towards Steve when he speaks up. "Does Loki need a particular type of power source?" 

"He'd have to heat the cube to a hundred and twenty million kelvin just to break through the coulomb barrier."

"Finally someone who speaks English." Tony walks up to Bruce. "It's good to meet you doctor banner, your work on anti-electronic collision is unparalleled. And I'm a huge fan of the way you lose control and turn into an enormous huge rage monster." 

You scoff and look towards tony. "Is everything a joke to you." 

He gives you a puzzled look. "Excuse me?" 

You walk towards him until you're face to face. "Everything is always a joke, you can never take anything seriously can you Stark?" 

"Tell me something, how do you think your parents would feel if they knew you turned yourself into a science experiment?" He knew what he was doing, what buttons to push to make you crack.

"Don't you dare talk about my parents, you lost that right 16 years ago." You grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the wall. "I became the person I am today despite you and I know my parents are proud of me. You even try to talk about them again and I won't hesitate to break every single bone in your body."

Nick walked into the bridge. "Carter! Take a walk." 

You dropped him and walked out of the room with Darcy following.

"Come on. You can't let him get to you." She grabbed you by the shoulder and turned you around.

You ran your fingers through your hair in frustration. "I know, but it's just- as soon as I see him, all the hurt just comes flooding back."

"Close your eyes and breathe. We just gotta get through this." She pulls you into a hug.

Phil is walking towards you with a look of concern. "Hey, are you alright now?”

"I think so. Phil, be honest with me, did you know he was going to be here?" When you noticed that he was avoiding eye contact you knew.

He let out a deep breath before looking you in the eyes. "Yes, Fury sent me to drop off the information on what was going on and all of you.

You did your best to keep the tears at bay. Phil was the one person you should have been able to trust not to keep anything from you. "How could you, you knew exactly what him being here would do to me and you couldn't even give me a heads up."You shook your head and walked away. 

He was about to follow before Darcy stopped him. "Don’t, just give her time." 

You walked around and tried to give yourself time to cool off. If you couldn't trust Phil to be honest with you, who could you trust? You were so deep in thought you didn't notice you were about to bump into Stark. You glared at him before he cleared his throat and tried to walk around you. Before he could you grabbed him by the arm and slammed him against the wall.

"What's with all the slamming?" He tried to push you away before you pushed him back.

"I saw what you did, you attached something to the computer. I don't know what kind of game you're playing but it needs to stop. You and I both know I don't trust you so you better watch your back because the second you slip up, I'll be there." Before he could speak up again you let him go and walked off. 

You hear Natasha speak through your earpiece. "Loki means to unleash the Hulk. Keep Banner in the lab, I'm on my way. Send Thor as well." 

You immediately rush towards the lab, you see Nick and walk in behind him. "What are you doing Mr. Stark? You're supposed to be locating the tesseract."

"We are." Bruce speaks up. "the model’s locked and we’re sweeping for the signature now. When we get a hit, we’ll have the location within half a mile."

"And you’ll get your cube back, no muss, no fuss. What is Phase Two?" Tony questions Nick.

"Phase two? Nick what is he talking about?" You look towards him waiting for him to respond.

Before he does, Steve walks in and slams a large hydra gun on the table. "Phase Two is S.H.I.E.L.D using the Cube to make weapons."

You look at the gun in disgust and shake your head as you back away from Nick. "What is this? Why is S.H.I.E.L.D making weapons of mass destruction? This isn't right, this isn't what my grandmother wanted."

"Last year earth had a visitor from another planet who had a grudge match that leveled a small town. We learned that not only are we not alone, but we are hopelessly hilariously, out-gunned. They're not the only threat either. The world’s filling up with people who can’t be matched, they can’t be controlled. They forced our hand! So we had to come up with some-"

Before Nick was able to finish his explanation he was interrupted by Tony. 

"Nuclear deterrent! ’Cause that always calms everything right down.

You looked towards him, anger written all over your face. "Very hypocritical, coming from you."

"Remind me again how you made your fortune, Stark?"

"I’m sure if he still made weapons, Stark would be neck deep-"

"Wait-Wait! Hold on! How is this now about me?"

You scoffed. "Isn’t everything?"

Everyone continued to talk over each other. Arguing back and forth. It's suddenly interrupted when the monitor makes a noise, signaling the Tesseract has been located.

Bruce walks over to it when he seems to see something on the monitor. "Oh my god."

There's suddenly an explosion and you're all thrown across the room. You, Steve and Tony scramble to your feet and run out of the lab to try and find the source of the explosion.

You talk into your earpiece. "Hill we need an update."

"Engine three is down. The line looks mostly intact but it’s impossible to get out there to make repairs while we’re in the air. Somebody’s gotta get outside and patch that engine."

You nod towards Stark before responding. "We're on it." You look at the two men in front of you. "You two go ahead, I'll secure Loki."

You run in the other direction, dodging people in your way. You didn't notice the man around the corner, as you run your head is slammed with the butt of a gun knocking you down. When you look up you see a man aiming his gun at you about to shoot, before he does you quickly grab the pistol strapped to your hip and shoot him between the eyes. You get up and round the corner continuing to your destination. Further down the hall you hear two more men about to round the corner. Before they do you jump up and swing on a hanging pipe kicking one of the men down and against a wall before jumping down and throwing a roundhouse kick to the other. You shoot them both and continue running.

You're about to reach Loki's cell when you hear an explosion. You rush in and see Phil on the floor, blood on his chest. You drop your gun, run to him and drop to the ground. "No no no no no come on Phil stay with me, you're gonna be fine I just gotta get you some help." You reach for your earpiece but he grabs your hand and stops you.

"It's going to be okay kid, I promise." His eyes started to water and his breathing was getting shallower by the second. 

"Don't do this to me Phil, I've lost so many people I can't lose you too. You know I need you, I won't be able to do this without you." The tears were coming and they weren't stopping. 

"You're not going to lose me, I'll always be right here." He put a finger to your chest right above your heart. 

You grab on tight to his hand and put your forehead against his. "I love you, please don't leave me Dad."

You didn't notice the smile on his face when he heard that. "I love you too, I promise it'll be okay." 

You looked up when you didn't hear him anymore. "No, No!" You reach for your earpiece. "I need help.” Your voice started to crack. “Please, I need help in here!" You don't know how much time passed but you felt a pair of hands pulling you up but you refused to let go. "No I can't, I can't leave him." When they finally got you up, you saw it was Darcy holding you back. You broke down and she was there to hold you. You continued to cry, you heard Nick behind you notifying everyone about what happened. 

"Agent Coulson is down."

Legacy Tags:

@agentmarvel13 @1v-kayla @5sos-wdw @a-dancing-hufflepuff @agent-barnes40 @agreatcheesecakestudentstuff @annoylinglyaries @antclottz @avngrsinitiative​ @bradfordsgreekgod​ @babypink224221​ @captainam-erika-trash​ @carisi-sonny​ @caseymcflurry​ @chook007​ @cosmiccomicloverqueen @daniellajocelyn​ @doctoranon​ @ecamille-xo​ @editsbyjenny @ellieababy​ @eternaleviee​ @futuremissstark @geeksareunique​ @gummiwormsandonedirection​ @henrietteoaks​ @hermionie-is-my-queen​ @imahoeforbucky​ @ineedmorefanfics​ @isabella-bby​ @jaemingold​ @junitorials13​ @katykyll​ @keenmarvellover @klanceiscannon14​ @lady-sigyn​ @littlephoenix-fire​ @lovemarvelousfics​ @l0kisbitch​ @luckyfiction17​ @ludwigvonbaethoven @maddie-laufeyson​ @magnificentsoulecollector​ @mikariell95​ @mistressoftorture​  @moli1497 @nanajaeminniee @orderoftheflamingflamingos​ @oxodianaoxo​ @paintballkid711​ @pastelpurplexoox​ @peteyparkersbabyy @princessizzy36​ @shallowshawn @sillydecoy @spodermanpete​ @starstruckgardenstudentzonk​ @2132981​ @superhero2552​ @thatharrypotterfan13 @thatweirdchick147​ @the-ducks-umbrella @tienna-laufeyson16 @trustme3-13​ @wishiwasanavenger​ @xalinx​ @yougottalovefandoms​ @zaza-jones​ @izzyisavengersupernaturaltrash​

#Steve Rogers #captain america #steve rogers x reader #avengers imagine #Avengers #natasha romanoff #Black Widow #clint barton #hawkeye #bruce banner #hulk #thor #tony stark #Iron Man #Phil Coulson #Nick Fury #marvel #avengers fanfiction #avengers series #legacy

[youngbugandtonystank]

I LOVED your meta-analysis of Tony in endgame! Can you do the homecoming edition with tony's facial expressions and feelings? thank you! x

Hi!

Of course, I’m sorry I took so long.

Well, Homecoming is my favorite irondad movie. Yes, it’s an irondad movie for me. We get to see the paternal side of Tony. It’s not a surprise for me or anyone that Tony can get paternal, you can tell he loves kids and gets along better with them than with most adults. He’s a natural on this.

Let’s start with the fact that Tony had a long emotional journey in Civil War, from getting nostalgic with clearing traumatic memories of his parents with technology, Charlie Spencer, his guilt over Ultron, the Accords, fighting with the Avengers to finding out the truth about said parents and getting betrayed in the process.

All of this.

And the first thing he decided to do after all of this?

Make sure Peter gets home.

Now, the most important thing you should notice about Tony in here is his posture. Look how relaxed and happy he looks, look at the way he’s sitting. After recently getting betrayed by a close friend, this is how he behaves around Peter. This is enough for me to believe that he blindly trusts Peter and that scares him. Since the moment he met him this is the thing that impressed me the most about their relationship. How easy things come for Tony when it comes to Peter. Trust is the main one.

Of course, it’s not all unicorns because this is Tony Stark. He probably noticed how quickly he was to trust Peter and how he behaves around him so he uses his typical mechanisms of defense to fight this.

One of my friends pointed out for me that on many occasions Tony tries to avoid eye contact with Peter.

Typical mechanism. Avoid eye contact, put on his glasses, mask on.

And that is not the only effort he made to put a distance between him and Peter, he uses the ‘’hands-off’’ mentor attitude and puts Happy like a wall between them. Look at his hand gestures, he’s trying to make this something casual. It’s his way of putting up a wall.

Also, this is not how we open the door for someone else, ok?

There were other ways to open the door for the kid.

And as soon as Peter is out of the car:

After a while of not getting in contact with the kid, Peter; the danger magnet he is, gets himself in trouble and we discover that Tony receives alerts every time the suit's emergency parachute is activated or when it exceeds a certain altitude. We also discover Tony has a tracker on Peter’s suit and it’s not afraid to admit he put everything necessary in the suit. 

At first, he doesn’t appear to be shaken up by the fact that Peter almost died a few minutes ago but this is because he’s trying to remain calm. In the Homecoming Novelization, they give us the reason why Tony is in that place:

“So where are you?” I asked, looking around suspiciously. I half expected to see a drone in the sky spying on me.“India,” came the response. “I thought I’d hit up a Hindu temple. Center myself. That sort of thing.” Wow, I thought. I guess when you have Stark money, you can do stuff like that. “Thank God this place has Wi-Fi or you would have drowned.”

He’s trying to center himself. After saying ‘’Please, forget about the flying vulture guy’’ and trying to make Peter understand he needs to stay on the ground for his own safety and Peter failing to understand this, this is his dad reaction:

The angry-anxiety outburst. This man was having an anxiety attack throughout this scene. After not succeeding in getting a guarantee that Peter is going to be out of harm's way, he goes into fight-or-flight mode and releases this little explosion. When you’re on your way to an anxiety episode that is very close to turning into a panic attack your body starts interpreting your anxiousness as a signal that you’ll need to stand your ground or escape from what you believe is a danger. What it’s most interesting to me in this is his reaction after the outburst. He’s not only confused as to why is he so angry or so fatherly invested in this kid, but he’s also experiencing his mind going “blank” as the fear and worry take over.

Almost like he’s asking himself ‘’Why am I acting like this?’’ ‘’What the hell was that?’’

And then saying: ‘’Sorry, teenager’’. Dad af.

And then we fully get to see what he’s trying to stay calm from. THIS. Anxiety can trigger this reaction. I believe what Tony is experiencing here is some sort of mechanism of physiological tremor caused by anxiety. This is how awesome RDJ’s performance is. He understands his character so much he can make these little decisions and add more depth into the character.

After this, he tells Peter it’s not too early to start thinking about college, since he went when he was 15 so for Tony, it’s never too early and he knows Peter is a genius kid. He understands Peter and he even acknowledged this when he said this: ‘’Listen, I know school sucks. I know you want to save the world. But... you're not ready yet.’’ 

Then he calls Peter to tell him the FBI was about to ambush Toomes and his people but he also took the opportunity to congratulate Peter for his job on Washington. I love the sheepishly way he’s doing it, like this is new territory for him. 

But Peter at the moment is not appreciating the compliments because he has other things in mind. This is the moment you realize both of them are on different grounds. What many people don’t realize is that Peter is not only seeking approval, he’s trying to find a way to ensure his stay in Tony’s life. Notice how he asks Happy what’s going to happen to him when he realizes Tony sold the tower (He can feel Tony slipping further away from him) or when he tells Ned that he’s never going to come back to school since Tony is moving the Avengers upstate and blindly believes that If he brings Toomes to justice Tony is going to offer a place for him (He takes drastic measures). 

Meanwhile Tony is trying hard to be there for him but still at arm's length. He gets a little offended when Peter doesn’t appreciate that effort and brush that off like it’s nothing. You know the thing that actually warms my heart? When he remembers the little stuff about Peter’s life. While Peter is trying to win his place in Tony’s life, Tony already has Peter in his heart, whether he knows about this or not.

Remember those conversations you have with your parents over the phone and they hear some weird background noise and they demand to know what’s going on? This is Tony in here. Also, the fact that he knew that Peter quit band six weeks ago. lol dad much?

Then the famous ferry confrontation. This is exactly the moment Tony lets Peter know in a very direct way he cares and a lot. Since the moment Peter accuses him of not caring, he doesn’t take his eyes off of Peter. 

He’s using anger as a way to let out the stress and worry he has over this kid. The little sniff, the way he continuously walks toward him, etc. He’s tired of being worried and explains to Peter that he’s the only one keeping faith in him because of how young he is and the more he explains, the more scared he gets. 

When things get to the point where he can’t stand it, ‘’it’s not working out’’ / = ‘’It’s not working out for me’’, he demands the suit back and dramatically says that this is something permanent. That this is a ‘’forever’’ decision. He believes that if he takes away the suit Peter is going to stop risking his life. And this decision probably hurts him more than it hurts Peter judging by the way he can’t even look at the kid when he asks for it. 

He heartbrokenly explains to Peter that if he dies then he feels that is going to be on him. He feels responsible for Peter and it’s heartbreaking because this is coming from him. This is not some misplaced way to fix things or a way to repair some old wounds. This is not his responsibility, he can easily go to this kid’s aunt and tell her what’s going on so she can deal with it but instead, he realizes he got emotionally attached to this kid and therefore no matter if he’s in the suit or not, Tony is going to feel responsible. Because he cares. Because he has a soft spot for him. Because he already has a place in his heart.

The way he grips his arm, another way to tell he’s on the verge of anxiety, again. And then he admits what’s been on his mind since meeting Peter: He wants him to be better than him. He already chose him. He wants him to be his better version. He recognizes Peter and him are similar in ways that scare him but he wants the flaws he sees in himself to disappear on Peter. He doesn’t want Peter to be like him. And he demonstrates this in the self-deprecating way he expresses it: 

Then Peter goes and still risks his life with or without the suit and Tony gets Happy to drive Peter to Avengers upstate. The first thing Tony does? Apologize to Peter for taking the suit and at the same time, he lets him know he did something wrong therefore he had it coming. Something he probably never got directly from his father; an apology and proof that he actually cared. 

He makes sure Peter knows he’s proud by fist-bumping his shoulder lol, side-hugging him and telling him he wants him on the team by showing him his new suit. 

Can we talk about this for a moment? Is this Tony’s version of putting the kid’s accomplishments on the fridge? He was going to show this to a lot of reporters and people when Peter ‘’announced’’ he was going to be an official member of the Avengers. Can we also acknowledge the fact that Tony keeps track of Peter so much that he knows bloggers write about spider-man and this time he’s bringing the big guns by picking up 50 real reporters to the case? D-A-D.

Then he gets rejected lol. Something he probably expected it. There’s no denying he felt rejected but not because Peter doesn’t want to be part of the Avengers, the part he feels rejected from is the ‘’mentoring’’ part. He did mention that with a little mentoring, Peter could be a real asset. He wants to be that mentor and now he’s ready to be more close to him.

He even takes the mask off.

But he still can’t keep eye contact with him, something he still does in Infinity War. Apparently, Peter’s big puppy eyes are lethal weapons for him. He can’t stand the admiration and gratitude coming from this kid’s gaze. He’s not used to this.

This is what I love the most about Homecoming. Proud!dad Tony. AT the end of the day, he’s proud that Peter chose to do the right thing and stay on the ground. He knows Peter is going to be the best out of all of them and this is the most gratifying accomplishment for him. 

Thank you for asking! I was going to make one from Peter’s POV, if you want it, please tell me! 

#tony stark #peter parker #irondad #spiderson #homecoming #spiderman homecoming #hoco #mcu #marvel #robert downey jr #tom holland #infinity war #endgame #far from home #Iron Man #spiderman

[give-me-back-my-rhodey]

Let’s Burn the World Down - AUgust Day 6

Title: Let’s Burn the World Down

Author: Purple_ducky00

Rating: Teen

Relationship: Clint Barton/Tony Stark, Background relationships: Bucky/Natasha, Steve/Sam

Link: Read on AO3

Summary: Tony falls in love with the guy he keeps meeting in the ER. Too bad the guy already has a girlfriend... or does he?

+++++++++++

For a billionaire, Tony has to go to the hospital very often. Whether it’s a lab accident, a car accident, an assassination attempt, and/or anything else, Tony finds himself in the ER at least once a month. His insurance is higher than his standards, which isn’t saying much, Tony surmises, because he’s halfway in love with the guy he sees almost every time he goes.

 They’ve seen each other so frequently that they’ve started nodding to each other and saying, “What are you in for?” like they do in the movies at the police station.

 Although he’s being truthful, Tony knows that most of his incidents sound very made up. “Oh, they sent someone to assassinate me, but I managed to flirt my way out of it with only a stab wound.” “My lab exploded.” “My robot dropped a steel sheet on my foot.” “I tripped on something and fell off my porch to the porch below.” But he is even more disbelieving of this man’s injuries.

The guy says stuff like “I shot myself with a boomerang arrow.” “I was skydiving with my dog and my parachute got caught on a tree branch, and an eagle attacked me.” “I think that pizza I ate was too old.” “My old circus buddy tried to kill me. He failed.” “I fell out of the vents, and the bad guys beat me up.”

 Today Tony comes in because he had to jump through a window to avoid Sunset Bain. He now has glass sticking out of his side, and he’s sitting calmly until a doctor can see him. The man limps in, bloody and skin mangled on his leg. The others in the ER gasp as he signs in and takes a seat beside Tony. “Hey man, what you in for?” He asks.

 “Jumped out a window to avoid my ex.”

 “Mood.” The man nods sagely. “I just battled a cougar and won. Before you ask, yes it was the cat kind, although I don’t doubt that a middle-aged woman couldn’t do this if she was rejected.” He gestures to his leg. Tony barks out a laugh.

 “Oh, they could. Trust me. By the way, I never got your name. Or did you want to stay anonymous?” Tony asks.

 The man shakes his head. “We’d go great no matter how we do it. Name’s Clint.”

 “I’m Tony.”

“Yea, I know.” When Tony looks at him, surprised, Clint pats his shoulder placatingly. “You’ve got these people fooled with your greasy shirts and hats, but I never forget a face. Don’t worry, I won’t rat you out. But why do you come to this crappy ER all the time? Aren’t you supposed to go to the ones that are made for rich people?”

 Tony shrugs. Truthfully, the first couple time he came, it was because he had happened to be in the neighborhood when disaster struck. He had struck up conversation with Clint, and he decided that if he were able to talk with him, Tony would keep coming to this ER. “I don’t know. I’m in the area a lot, I guess.”

 Tony gets that he has problems. He knows that he quickly falls in love with anyone who will show him kindness or even just the time of day because he didn’t get enough love and attention from his parents as a child. He goes to therapy, and he does make an effort to figure out which people are being nice only because they want something, which people are just simply being nice, and which people are flirting. It’s still hard sometimes, like now. He doesn’t think Clint wants something because 1.) he just said that he won’t rat Tony out and 2.) he could have taken Tony’s wallet very easily many times. But is Clint just a nice dude, or does he like Tony?

 A nurse gets Tony just as another comes for Clint. Tony lies on his side for far too long as they pull glass from his body. When he’s cleared to go, the doctor tells him, “You have to be more careful, Mr. Stark. You’re not invincible, and I’d hate to see anything happen to you.”

 “Thanks Doc. I’ll do my best.” He shakes the man’s hand.

 On his way out, he sees Clint talking to a beautiful redhead. She is reaming him out in Russian, calling him and idiot and a few other unsanitary words. Clint tries to console her, but she grabs his hand and pushes him into her car. She speeds off, still shouting in Russian. Tony’s heart drops. He has no chance with Clint now. No one would give up a woman like her for him unless they wanted something.

 The next time Tony gets hurt, he goes to the ER near his home. He is in and out shortly, but Tony feels incomplete. He misses the easy camaraderie with Clint. I can still joke with him as friends, right? There’s no harm in that. He reasons, but he chickens out the next time, when he accidentally burns his arm with his blowtorch, and then when he gets shot. This keeps happening until it has been at least three months since he last saw Clint.

 Tony gets drunk in a bar | in Brooklyn. Very, very drunk. The thing about being a Stark – you can hold your liquor very well, and even when you are so drunk most people black out, you can still walk and talk albeit hindered a little. Well, Tony is that drunk, and this is when he tends to overshare. He’s telling the bartender, a beefy man with long brown hair, about Clint. “So, there’s this guy, you know. Only time I see him is when I go to the ER. He’s really cute, he’s got like tons of biceps, and he’s funny. We used to see each other all the time, and I think I love him. But one time, I saw him, and he had a girlfriend. Super, smoking hot redhead – like I don’t even stand a chance. So, I’ve been avoiding him. It’s dumb because he doesn’t know I like him, and I keep convincing myself that I can still talk to him as friends and such, but then my brain just tells me he has a girlfriend, and I end up going to an ER near my house. You know?”

 “Not really.” The bartender grins. “But I’m not an ER regular.”

“That’s too bad. It’s fun there sometimes.” Tony pats his hand somberly. “Sometimes we freak people out with our injuries. But we’re calm. It happens so much that we’re just like ‘meh’.  The doctor told me to be careful because I wasn’t invincible, and I was like ‘ok, I’ll tell my enemies to stop trying to kill me. I hope it works.’”

 The bartender throws back his hand and laughs. Tony drains his glass of Scotch and asks for another. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” The bartender asks. What was his name? Barney? Barn?

 “Barnes!” Yells someone from the other end of the bar. “I need a mimosa stat!”

 “Shut your whore mouth Wilson!” Barnes yells back. “I’m not serving you anything after what you and Steve put me though last night!” He turns back to Tony. “The dude’s dating my step-brother, and our walls aren’t soundproofed. I hate them so much.”

 “I could soundproof your walls for you.” Tony offers. He’s not sure why he offered, but he did. It’s not like he hasn’t done it before.

 “Thanks for the offer, but Nat and I will get them back at some point. Maybe we’ll do it on the couch.” Barnes grins. “Someone else can make Sam’s mimosa. Wanda’s working that end of the bar anyways.” He gives Tony one more Scotch and says, “This is your last one. I’m going to have to cut you off because I don’t want you to die.”

 Tony quietly sips on his drink while Barnes makes other drinks. Once done, he stuffs a few hundreds in the tip jar and turns to leave when a scarlet-haired woman sits on the stool beside him. Tony blinks at her for a second, thinking that she looks familiar. Barnes’ face lights up, and he comes over to her. “Hey, come here often?” He asks, fake seductively.

 “Don’t be an idiot,” She tells him and pulls his face in for a kiss. Tony realizes why he thinks she looks familiar. She’s Clint’s girlfriend!

He spins on his stool to face them. “You bitch!” He yells at her, then clamps a hand over his mouth as Barnes growls a warning. “I am so sorry. I don’t know your situation. You could have broken up with him, or hey, you’re a threesome, or an open relationship. I’m sorry. I was just caught up… and I’ll just go.”

 Tony stumbles off the stool and heads out of the bar. Mind swirling with liquor and shame, he doesn’t notice he’s in the street or the ugly purple car headed towards him until it’s too late. Frozen, he stares down the lights until the car smacks into him.

 Lying on the ground, the last thing he remembers is a person jumping out and yelling, “What are you doing, you idiot? Tony?”

 Tony wakes up in a strange place. He feels like he should be in the hospital, but he’s not. Looking around, he sees a lot of… purple. “Ugh, no one should have this much purple anything,”

 “I take offense to that.” A voice says. Wait… that’s Clint. Tony wildly tries to sit up, and Clint comes into his line of vision. “Hey, hey lie back down! I don’t think anything’s broken, but you should probably just let your body rest for a while.”

 “What happened?”

 “I hit you with my car because you were standing in the middle of the street. Why were you standing in the middle of the street?” Clint looks worried.

 Tony tries to wave him off. “You know, just for the thrill.”

 “Tony, most things I do are just for the thrill, and I know it’s idiotic to stand in the middle of the street.”

 “Yeah well, the thing I did before it was idiotic, too, so I’m pretty good at that.” Tony sighs. He doesn’t really want to get into it because Clint will probably make him leave. Tony’s good at leaving. Everyone makes him leave after they learn his true self. Ah, well, what does he have to lose but the love of his life?

 “So, last time we were both at the ER, I saw the woman who picked you up. I guess I just figured you were dating the way you both interacted with each other,” Tony explains. “Well, at the bar last night, she came in and made out with the bartender. I called her a bitch because my first thought was that she was cheating on you. Then I remembered that it had been three months, and I didn’t really know anything about you – you might have broken up, or were poly, or open relationship. Point is, I’m an idiot who speaks before he thinks then faces the consequences, even if they’re not direct.” He is very confused when Clint starts to laugh. “What’s so funny?”

 “I can’t believe you called Natasha a bitch and still live to tell the story.” Clint says between gasps. “That’s fuckin hilarious. I am sorry that I hit you with my car.”

 Tony is thoroughly confused, and Clint takes pity on him. “Natasha is dating Bucky, the bartender. She’s my best friend and confidante. She gets angry when I do stupid things, but I still do them. We are not dating, never have, and never will. Hopefully, that clears things up.”

 “A little.” Tony just feels disoriented. This is not something he has ever had to deal with before.  

 There’s a knock at the door. This “Natasha” pokes her head in. “Hey Clint, is he ok?”

 “Yea, come in. Tony meet Natasha Romanoff. Natasha, this is Tony Stark.” Clint gestures to the both of them.

 Natasha smirks. “Hi Tony.”

 “Hi,” He says weakly. “I’m sorry for calling you a bitch. I sometimes talk before I think, and I’m sorry.”

 “Just don’t do it again. Are you guys hungry? Bucky’s making blini.”

 Clint nods. “Tell him I love him. We’ll take two plates. You like blini, right?” He directs the question at Tony.

 “I think so. I’ve only had them once or twice,” Tony says. When Natasha leaves, he tells Clint, “You don’t have to stay with me. I’ll be fine.”

 “Well this is my room, so I want to stay here. By the way, how have you been? I haven’t seen you in a while. I was starting to think you took my fancy ER comment seriously.”

 Tony grimaces. “Well, it’s a long story. But I did end up going to the ER near my house a couple times. It’s hard to get no injuries in the stuff I do.”

 “Well, I don’t blame you for going to the uber fancy ERs, you know, because there’s better service or whatever. But if you do, can we hang out somewhere other than the ER, then? I kind of missed you, man.” Clint looks at Tony earnestly.

 “The main reason I stopped going to our ER is that I saw you with Natasha and thought, ‘how could I ever compete?’ I would tell myself to just go. I could talk to you as a friend, and not me crushing on you, but I always psyched myself out when I got hurt, and I just went to the ER by my house.”

 “You’re crushing on me? Wow. I did not know that. I crushed on you the first day I saw you, and I thought you were just being nice. I’m a dumpster fire on my best days.”

 Tony shoots him a wicked grin. “Then let’s burn down the world together.” 

#ironhawk #background buckynat #background samsteve #au_gust_2020 #i write! #hospital au #no powers au #tony stark #clint barton

[theadorablespderman]

Everything to love about Far From Home not in this order:

Literally seeing that opening with all our loved avengers that are no more.

Whitney Houston “I will always love you” made me cry because damnit Tony’s face was right THERE! NOT OK!

The blip footage was pretty damn funny not gonna lie.

Peter’s cute ass plan to tell MJ how he feels.

MJ’s favorite flower being a Black Dalia because of the murder. Literally a girl I can relate too. Murderinos for life sister. Idk but it just made her sooo relatable!

The fact that Brad is a kid grown up from the blip and that made him seem all the weirder for MJ.

Jealous Peter was so freaking amazing! Oh my gosh! That face he’d get. I’m a sucker for jealousy and they did it so good.

Making MJ this awesome character she was before but also obviously has this softer layer where she does have flaws and insecurities and she’s really sweet but also so badass. That was amazing.

The starting relationship between Peter and Beck. It was cute and so I was sad knowing that Beck was somehow going to be the villain.

Also let’s talk about how Beck is basically Syndrom from the incredibles.

That scene with Peter and Brad....the pure terror when he snapped that picture

Also seeing how big of a dick Brad is and how unhealthy jealous he was.

“Nick Fury” getting ghosted, showing up in Venice, tranquilising Ned (don’t touch him you monster) and then promptly highjacking Peters Summer trip.

Showing the emotional trama Peter is going through. The anxiety, the greiving. It was very reminiscent of Iron Man 3 when Tony suffers from PTSD after the battle of New York. I loved that they showed Peter reacting as any kid would, many adults too, which is to just try and forget anything happened but being faced with the reality every day. So well done.

Happy and May’s relationship. Enough said 😂😂

I feel cheated we didn’t see Mr delmore again.

Addressing all the problems the Blip/Snap created. High school aging, school, drinking ages, homelessness and housing issues. That’s just the start of it I’m sure but they covered those pretty well and I love that.

The technology that made Beck into Misterio was so well done. Instead of some frankly, kinda far fetched story that he came from an alternate earth (which I was willing to believe but felt it was a cop out in terms of plot and character) they showed the real world issues that superhero’s can create. The Enemies that have a real deep rooted hatred for hero because they’ve personally been betrayed or wronged by them. Because marvel has always made clear, everyone is not on the hero’s side.

Steeping Misterio’s powers in tech which is classing marvel but again, so brilliantly done in this movie. I loved the development. Because at first glance, half way through, I was thinking “wow this is really kinda weird and unexplained and too witchcraft for what marvel usually brings to the superpower backstory” I know it’s weird to say after everything marvel has done. But it seemed just a tad out there without being too hard to grasp. Which again was brilliantly done because that was the whole point.

The nod to Misterio’s helmet even when Beck was in the hologram suit watching everything play out. I guess it was his screen? But I loved the staple of even without his big over the top suit he still had the trademark helmet. Great costume design.

Peter’s soft gazes towards MJ. Nearly gave me a cavity they were so sweet! Ahhh sooo cute

Mr. Harrington’s marital problems nearly made me pee my pants....we all knew here in the fandom that shit like that would half to happen but my god lol

The opera scene was sooo freakin cute and that one step Peter took when he saw Brad move in was so freaking cute and hot!

MJ running after him and finding the critical peice of information to crack the case wide open. Loved it.

Betty and Ned’s Sicily sweet romance that you knew couldn’t possibly last. They really nailed the realistic high school romance. But I still ship it.

The bus scene was epic. And when Peter knocked Flash out...god it was amazing.

Mj obviously having love eyes towards Peter same as he does for her.

THE FACT THAT HE ACTUALLY BOUGHT THAT NECKLACE FOR HER OH MY GOD! I CANT GET A GUY TO TEXT ME BACJ LET ALONE BUY A NECKLACE LIKE THAT WHICH PROBABALY COST A GOOD CHUNK OF CHANGE IT WAS SO FREAKING AMAZING AND CUTE AND TOUCHING.

All the iron man images got me feeling depressed as hell

“are you being serious because I was only like 67% sure?” That was amazing. Seeing MJ get so excited and trying to keep that hidden was awesome

The fact that she was so pleased with herself but also played it hella cool when Ned walked in and she said she figured it out. Literally that is me.

The shirtless Peter trope that we all wanted and freaking got! So freaking cute how she tried to peak at his abs. Like understandable girl.

The fucking illusions. Turning our sweet trusting Peter into a ball of mess. I was too.

God when he had to tell himself it wasn’t real but it still totally feels like it is.

Him trying to save MJ when she’s “thrown off the Eiffel Tower”

Every traumatizing thing Beck shows and tells him during the illusion. So shitty.

Seeing Tony’s grave, seeing iron man come out. That was awful and we all felt it in the movie because we’ve lost him too. We could FEEL that slap same as Peter.

Beck telling Peter that Tony’s death was his fault. I was abouta hurl myself at the movie screen.

Every illusion done in a way that just when you think it’s over, it’s never stopped. You forget what’s real and you feel trapped in it same as Peter does.

WHEN HE GETS HIT BY THE TRAIN!!!!!!!!!! Nearly had a damn heart attack!!!! My mom had to look over and ask if I was ok because I literally stopped breathing for a solid 30 seconds.

Showing gradually just how insane and evil Misterio was.

HAPPY BEING CONCERNED FOR PETER! LIKE SINCERELY AND HONESTLY CONCERNED! It’s good to know he’s got Happy to take care of him and May but that Peter still has a father type figure he can count on after Tony. Because you know Tony wouldn’t have put up with any of that getting hit by a train shit.

Also where the hell was Karen? We missed her. We got Edith but Karen wouldn’t have let Misterio take her over. WHERE WAS KAREN!!

Peter crying and needing to know Happy was real. Broke me heart

That hug between them was so sweet and you can see the concern on Happy’s face

Happy and Peter opening up to each other was so awesome considering their relationship in Homecoming.

ALL THE TONY and PETER PARRELLS! All of them!!!!!!!!! Not the people saying “Spider-Man’s the next Ironman” no the actual hints and glimpses at how similar him and tony actually are. The hologram gauntlet shot, a straight parallel to Iron Man when Tony is building his first real suit. Obviously “Back in Black” by Led Zeplen (formally known as AC/DC) playing. Another obvious hint toward Tony. The Stark sunglasses. Peter falling with the parachute and it literally looks like Ironman with his jet stream behind him from a distance. There’s so much more I’ll do a whole other post on.

Of course: “I love Led Zeplin!” Hahaha it’s such a kid thing to say! I’ve said it before I knew the big differences between AC/DC and Led Zeplin. It was so freaking perfect.

Peter making his suit and Happy’s face. Bittersweet and I live for the affection he holds for Peter now.

The Netherlands Holding cell...must I say more?

Brad’s downfall and MJs amazing comment about him taking pictures of people in the bathroom. Ep-ic. Even flash was like “bro that’s so weird”

Mr. witchcraft was hilarious and I loved his aside with Brad “I’m gonna be the cool teacher and tell you you can’t do that anymore.”

Flash is definately Gay or Bi and I’m so here for it. That wink he makes to Peter proves it.

All the near death truths in the vault of the tower.

MJ BADDASS COMES SWINGING WITH THE MACE AND IT WAS LEGINDARY OH MY GOD! YES GIRL! She’s my idol I love her so much.

Peter and his “Peter Tingle” And while we’re on the subject the banana he gets to the face while packing.

Important. His amazing skills at the end trusting his instincts (which is great because May says in regards to MJ, but it applies to this too) May tells Peter to trust his instincts and don’t think too much. And that’s what he does when he defeats Beck.

The bad ass “you can’t fool me anymore” after redirecting the gun away from his head at the end. Literally was so intense and well done.

Peter and MJ’s kisses! I loved how awkward it was at first and the slightly less awkward one. They really accurately captured the awkwardness of teenagers in love. Like that’s what it’s like guys.

Show me MJ’s parents you cowards, or show me something. Anything. I just want to know the nature of the situation.

Ned and Betty’s breakup. So funny and honestly not surprising at all. But still I ship them.

The hand hold. So cute.

May and Peter still being the cutest aunt and nephew duo there ever was.

I totally thought Peter was going to end with telling the world he was spiderman....BUT SOME OTHER ASSHOLES DID IT FOR HIM AND MADE HIM INTO A VILLAN AND IM PISSED. LOOKING AT YOU MR JAMESON YOU PEICE OF SHIT.

The movie ended and I have no idea what’s next.

Mid credit of MJ swinging through New York. Home girl doesn’t like and neither do I. Looks full on terrifying we don’t blame you hun.

After credit where the skrulls have been playing Maria and Nick fury for the whole movie. Honestly it made more sense because Nick fury seemed just a bit off. ALSO WHERE IS THE REAL NICK FURY at and I’m so psyched to see where this new movies are gonna go!

Alright that all for now folks!!!! Everything about the movie was great!!! I will have to watch again ad see if anything more pops up. Sorry for any spelling errors I’m on my phone.

#peter parker #marvel #spiderman #mcu #michelle jones #spideychelle #spider-man #spider-man: homecoming #avengers #tony stark #ned leeds #spiderman far from home #spider man: far from home #far from home spoilers #spoilers

[dontcare77ghj]

Blood

Steve x reader x Bucky

You are a vampire. This was not a new fact, no this an old fact, as old as you. You’d met Tony back in his playboy days and you two had remained friends over the years.

He’d found out you were a vampire, relatively early into your friendship, but he didn’t have a problem with who you were. When he was asked to join the Avengers, he’d immediately requested you join the initiative alongside him. After a lot of back and forth, promises and agreements being met, you’d begrudgingly joined the team.

It taken Steve six months after meeting to finally ask you out. A year later you were both together, and soon Bucky joined and made you two, three. The three of you had been together for two years and they were some of the best years of your, very, long life.

“Stay still, I need to get this out before it heals over.” Bucky commanded. He was kneeling next to you attempting to remove the bullet from your side. Steve sat on your other side

“It’s fine. Stop worrying.” You said, attempting to move away from the brunette. Bucky pulled you closer to him and held you closer, much your annoyance.

“Y/N just let Buck do this. He won’t let it go otherwise.” Steve said, giving you a soft smile. Bucky’s head snapped to the side and he narrowed his eyes at the blonde.

“Excuse me punk, who kept you alive all these years? That’s right, me. Don’t you dare mock me.” Bucky exclaimed, wagging a finger in Steve’s direction.

“Ha-ha Steve, you’re in trouble.” You sing-songed with a smile.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook now, missy.” Bucky said, going back to your wound. “Got it.” He cheered pulling the piece of metal out of your skin. The wound immediately closed over and left your skin looking new.

“Thank you for that but, Buck, you do know it was just a bullet.” You calmly said, attempting to sooth the stressed brunette.

“You had a bullet lodged in between your ribs. Why are you so calm about this?” Bucky asked incredulously. Steve sniggered as the brunette waved his arms around.

“Because it’s not going to kill me, in case you’ve forgotten I only have one weakness.” You reminded your boyfriend.

“Just because your immortal doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take care of yourself.” Bucky said rolling his eyes.

“Buck, when I was alive, I didn’t take care of myself, being dead changed nothing.” You pointed out.

“That’s even worse! What is with you two and not looking after yourselves?” Bucky exclaimed loudly.

“Hey, I take great care of myself.” Steve interjected, giving his best innocent looks.

“You jumped out of a plane without a parachute. What about that makes you seem stable?” Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow at your boyfriend.

“I am a very stable 100-year-old man.” Steve claimed, causing you to laugh and Bucky put his hand over his eyes.

“I lost my sanity about 500 years ago, I can’t say shit.” You said, making Bucky groan.

“I am in love with the two biggest idiots in the world.” He grumbled, causing you and Steve to laugh.

“Sweetheart, you are in a relationship with a super solider and a vampire. What did you expect?” You asked, giving the brunette a soft smile.

“I don’t know, partners who are committed to not being reckless.” Bucky suggested. Steve and you both gave the man a smile before you both pulled him into a hug.

“Honey, we’re trying not to give you a heart attack, I promise.” Steve said into Bucky’s neck. “We just don’t always think these things through.”

“Please try harder.” Bucky begged. “I don’t want to see one or both of you dead. I want you two to be okay.”

“We’ll try.” You promised, giving him a kiss on his cheek.

“Sorry to break it to you.” Tony interrupted the moment. “But they’re literally going to do the same thing next mission.” He added, looking at Bucky.

“Tony you’re not supposed to tell him that!”

“Morning darling.” Steve greeted as he and Bucky entered the kitchen.

“Morning Steve, morning Buck.” You greeted them both, placing a kiss on both their cheeks.

“What are we having this morning?” Bucky asked looking over your shoulder into your cup.

“Cows blood.” You stated with a slight grimace.

“Sounds gross.” He said, scrunching his nose in disgust.

“It is. You know how easy it used to be for me to get a human fix? Now every mortal drinks vervain in their ruddy Starbucks.” You complained, rolling your eyes.

“Not everyone drinks vervain, doll.” Steve voiced from the refrigerator.

“They might as well be.” You said, turning to look at the man. “But that’s fine I’ll drink my cows’ blood.” You added, raising a hand in surrender.

“I’ve told you before, Y/N, if you ever need it you can tap my vein.” Bucky said, taking his own seat and pulling you onto his lap.

“Okay, 1, never use that phrasing again. It’s weird.” You stated, settling in his lap.

“She’s not wrong.” Steve agreed.

“And, 2, I’m not going to drink your blood.” You continued, narrowing your eyes at the brunette.

“And why’s that, don’t I smell delicious?” Bucky asked, teasingly turning his neck towards your face.

“Of course, you do.” You assured, placing a kiss on the place where his neck met his shoulder.

“That also sounded weird.” Steve murmured, giving you both a grossed-out face.

“But in my world drinking someone’s blood is most intimate thing you can do.” You explained, looking between them both.

“I’ve literally been inside you, doll.” Bucky said with a shrug.

“That’s the worst phrasing I’ve heard this morning.” Steve complained, turning away from the two of you.

“But this is something that could hurt you. I could slip and drain you.” You said exasperatedly, staring down at the cup in your hands. Bucky grabbed your chin and forced you to meet his gaze.

“Doll, you’ve been around us when we’ve been bleeding out. You didn’t drain us then.” He said, placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Yeah, but my mouth wasn’t on your neck then.” You whined, staring up at the brunette.

“I trust you doll. If you ever need it or even just want it, you can use my neck like a juice box.” Bucky stated. Before he could open his mouth to continue, Steve smacked his hand against the counter and turned to face you both.

“That’s it I’m making a jar. I haven’t had breakfast yet and your both turning me off it.” Steve groused, making you both smile apologetically.

“Sorry, Stevie.” You both chorused.            

“On another note though, he is right about one thing.” Steve said moving over to the two of you. “If you ever want a sip your more than welcome to it.” He continued, turning your head to his and placing a kiss on your brow.

“That’s sweet and I appreciate the sentiment but let’s call that plan c, ok.” You said, pulling back to look at them both.

“It’s a deal.” Bucky stated with a smirk. “But seriously, more intimate than sex?”

“Uh-huh.” You confirmed. “Especially for an original, it’s bonding ourselves and sharing a part of ourselves to another.”

“I take it your brother didn’t like that.” Steve commented, his eyes narrowed on the ground next to him

“Of course, he didn’t.” You commented, shaking your head at the memory of your half-brother. “He wanted us to be all each other had, no room for lovers in his eyes.” You added.

“Well it looks like his stupid rule doesn’t mean shit.” Bucky smirked, causing you to smile.

“Exactly, bastards dead and I’m not. I’ve got great friends, a great life and two people who actually love me.” You explained. One of your hands tightly gripped Bucky’s and the other reached out to take the blondes.

“As sweet as the sentiment is, I’m considering a swear jar too.” He said, taking your hand in his.

“Stevie, you need to relax.” You told him, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles.

“Besides, you’d end up putting more in that jar than either of us.” Bucky commented, causing you to laugh and Steve to scowl slightly.

“That’s not true.” He vehemently denied.

“Bull.” Bucky stated.

“Okay, you know what, we’re not having this conversation. You drink your blood, you make breakfast.” Steve said, pointing to the both of you. He let go of your hand and moved over to the coffee machine.

“Are you mad, Stevie?” You asked, hopping off Bucky’s lap.

“No.” He contested as you wrapped your arms around his waist.

“I think he’s mad, Bucky.” You said, turning your head back to look at the brunette. Bucky walked over to the two of you and wrapped his arms around the two of you.

“But that’s okay because we love you.” He told Steve, placing a kiss onto his cheek.

“Why can’t I stay mad at you two?” Steve questioned with a sigh. Turning around he gave you both a loving look and placed a kiss onto both of your lips.

“Because we’re beautiful.” Bucky stated with a smirk. You and Steve rolled your eyes at the cocky brunette as you all pulled apart.

“I’m going to say it again.” Steve started, looking at you both. “Blood, breakfast.” He repeated, grabbing his cup off the counter and walking over to the table.

“Stevie’s bossy.” Bucky murmured into your ear as Steve walked away.

“I heard that, Buck.” Steve called, without turning to face him.

After hundreds of years you’ve learned to cherish the gift sleep is. You loved your boys, you really did, but there was one thing about them you couldn’t stand. The fact that they woke up before even the sun rose and couldn’t seem to keep quiet enough to let you sleep. Though this morning it seemed they wanted you awake.

“Baby doll, wake up.” Steve cooed, shaking your shoulder gently. A groan escaped your lips as you turned onto your stomach, hiding your face in the pillow.

“No, Stevie, five more minutes.” You whined, into the pillow. A chuckle from your other side altered you to Bucky’s presence.

“Come on sweetheart, we’ve got a present for you.” Bucky bargained. “If you wake up now, you can go back to sleep soon, I promise.” He said. For a minute the three of you didn’t say anything, you thinking the offer over and them waiting for your answer, until you rolled over to look at the two.

“Sleep is a gift, Barnes. Remember that.” You stated, sitting up in bed.

“Funny doll. “Bucky rolled his eyes but gave you a fond smile. Steve leaned over and grabbed a tray from behind him.

“Surprise.” The boys said in unison as Steve placed the tray in front of you.

“Oh boys. This is so sweet, what’s the occasion?” You asked, placing kisses on your boys, and looking down at the delectable meal in front of you.

“No occasion, doll. We just wanted to something nice.” Steve said, moving to sit wit his back against the backboard.

“It’s been awhile since we could all relax together.” Bucky added, reaching behind him to pass you a cup of blood. “Don’t want to forget.” He said, placing the cup in your hands.

“This smells fantastic.” You stated, immediately taking a long drink of the liquid. “I was right, that’s fantastic.” You commented, letting out a sigh of contentment. “Thank you two for this.”

“It’s not a problem, doll.  We wanted to do something nice.” Bucky answered, also sitting beside you.

“I love you. Both of you.” You admitted, giving your boys another kiss.

“Love you too sweetheart.” Steve replied, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Likewise, doll.” Bucky responded as he stole a piece of bacon off the tray. The three of you sat feeding each other as you talked about, trivial, mundane things. Until, finally, you just had to know.

“This the best blood I’ve had in ages. You gonna tell me what it is?” You asked, taking another gulp of the delectable substance.

“More like a who.” Bucky replied with a smirk.

“A who? You been stealing blood bags for me?” You question, looking between the two. The boys gave each smug looks as you began your little guessing game.

“Nope.”

“HYDRA agent?”

“Of course, not.”

“I give up. Who is it?” You sighed, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of the game.

“It’s us.” Bucky admitted with a wide grin.

“What?” You spluttered, placing the cup on the tray, before staring incredulously at the two.

“We mixed our blood together and that’s what your drinking.” Steve explained, nodding towards the nearly empty cup. Bucky raised his hand to show you his wrapped hand, a dark blood stain coming through the bandage.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You stated, giving them both long looks. “Really, you really didn’t have to.”

“But we wanted to. It’s all part of the plan.” Bucky said off-handly, a Cheshire grin plastered on his face.

“What plan? What are you two up to?” You questioned, giving the two men suspicious looks.

“Sweetheart, you told us sharing blood is the most committal thing to do in your world.” Steve said, looking towards Bucky who nodded. 

“Well we’ve just did half that and now we’d like to do something really committal in our world.” Bucky interjected, with a soft smile. The two moved to sit in front of you, Steve moving the tray off the bed.

“Y/N Mikaelson, would you do us the honor of marrying us?” They asked together, Bucky producing a ring from behind his back.

“Holy shit.” You whispered, hand covering your mouth in shock. “Holy shit, yes.” You laughed, tears blurring your eyes. “Of course.”

“Yeah?” Bucky asked, with a smile. “You want to do this.”

“Of course I do.” You said, pulling him closer and passionately kissing him. You pulled away and gave Steve the same treatment. “I want this.” You assured the men.

Bucky slid the ring onto your finger and placed a kiss onto your finger. “Thank you, doll. I love you, Y/N. I love you, Stevie.” He said, pulling Steve into a kiss. 

“I love you both too.” You told them as they pulled away.

“I love you both more than you could imagine.” Steve said, pulling you into his chest and laying you both down. Bucky laid on your other side, arm thrown over the both of you. 

“You hurt yourselves.” You acknowledged, causing them to raise their head to look at you. “You cut yourselves for me to have your blood.”

“We wanted to show that this is the long haul.” Steve admitted with a soft smile.

“I’ve been alive for a thousand years. I’ve got thousands ahead of me, the serum may slow your aging considerably, but I don’t think you have that long.” You somberly explained. Bucky’s arm tightened around you and you looked at him.

“Doll, as Stevie said, we only completed half of your world’s commitments. We want to be with you and be together for a long time.” Bucky stated, much to your confusion.

“Y/N, we want you to turn us.” Steve said.

You didn’t say anything. Steve and Bucky didn’t say anything. The three of you sat still, no-one making the first move to speak.

“Are you sure?” You asked, giving them both long looks. “If this is what you want I’ll do it, but you need to be sure. If you do this, you can’t go back.”

“Doll, we’re in this for the long haul.” Bucky told you, hand tightening on your waist. 

“When do you want to do this?” You questioned, giving the two a loving smile.The two looked at each other before nodding.

“Now.” They said in unison. Giving the two a nod, you raised your wrist to your lips. A crunch echoed throughout the room as you pulled away, blood staining your lips, and you offered the wound to them.

“Who wants first bite?” You asked them. Steve and Bucky had another silent conversation, before Steve moved in closer to you.

“I’ll go first.” He stated. He attached his lips your still bleeding wrist and began to drink the liquid. Steve let out a groan at the taste of your blood running down his throat. After taking a few gulps he pulled away from your wrist, lips stained red. 

Re-biting your wrist you presented it to Bucky. “Your turn, Buck.” You said before he attached himself to your wrist. Bucky began to greedily suck at the sweet nectar you were producing and only pulled away when you tapped his shoulder. “That should do ya, Buck.”

He pulled away, blood staining the lower half of his face, and gave you a shy smile. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright, honey.” You smiled. “Are you two ready for the next part?” You asked, giving them a serious look. 

“Ready.” They chorused. 

“I love you. Both of you.” You promised, giving them a quick kiss before pulling back.

“Love you too, doll.”

“Love you, sweetheart.”

With just a couple swift movements, you snapped both their necks and they fell dead. Letting out a shaky breath, you stood and moved the two men into a comfortable position in the bed and began to make the arrangements needed. 

“Y/N, Bucky threatened me with his fangs again!”  Sam yelled.

“Don’t listen to him he’s a liar!” Bucky returned. 

“Bucky, put the fangs away.” You sighed, walking into the living room where the rest of the team was. Everyone else was sat around the room paying the two arguing men no mind.

“Bucky your fangs aren’t toys.” Steve chided as you sat next to him.

“They’re meant to slice through necks.” You added with a smirk..

“Really? ‘Cos they look plastic to me.” Tony said with a smug look. “I highly doubt the metal man’s teeth could do any damage.”

“Watch it, Tony.” You warned, narrowing your eyes at the man. “I’ve got the same set of teeth and you know what I can do with them.”

“And that’s why I’m not insulting you, sparkles.” Tony said, raising his hands in innocence. “I’m insulting your two husbands.”

“Alright, Tony, that’s enough.” Steve said, giving the billionaire a look. “Don’t make me come over there.”

“Steve don’t encourage him.” You told him, patting his broad chest. “Besides we all know who’d win.”

“Is that how you want to play?” Tony asked, taking a stand and puffing his chest out in mock smugness. “I’ll take all three of you at once, just let me get my suit.”

“Even with a suit, you’ll still lose.” Clint said with a laugh.

“We accept your challenge, Stark.” Bucky proclaimed, jumping to his feet. “Allow us to show you why vampires are the superior species.”

“I believe you mean Gods are superior.” Thor loudly interjected. “But I would enjoy to watch you beat brother Stark.”

“I got 20 bucks on Y/N.” Natasha shouted as she too stood.

“You bet on one, you bet on all.” Clint said as you started to file out of the room.

“Who the hell started this?” You asked as you all began to walk towards the training room.

“You started it when you turned the old men.” Tony yelled from ahead of you.

“He’s not wrong, sweetheart.” Steve said, wrapping an arm around your waist. “You should’ve known this would happen.”

“Yeah, but I don’t regret it. I get the two of you for eternity now.” You said, looking up at him with a smile. 

“And we get you.” Bucky said, coming up behind you and sandwiching you between the two men.

“I love you two.” You said, kissing them both under the jaw.

“Love you too.” The boys replied kissing you on the head.

“Hurry the fuck up you three. I want to win a bet.” Tony yelled, causing you all to turn to face the brunette. The three of you smirked and used vampire speed to stand next to the man.

“We’re already there.” You all said running to the training room.

Leave feedback. Give me a comment. Give it a like. Reblog. Buy me a KO-FI.

Coming soon; 

Steve x reader x Natasha

Steve x reader x Sam x Bucky

Clint x reader x Natasha 

Tony x reader x Natasha

#steve x reader x bucky #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #bucky x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve x bucky #steve rogers imagine #bucky barnes imagine #stucky x reader #stucky #stucky x reader imagine #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #Winter Solider #captain america #winter soldier x reader #captain america x reader #james barnes #james barnes x reader #vampire reader #fem freader #vampire stucky x reader #stucky x vampire reader #fluff #poly #poly relationship

[wonder-kid-pugh]

In the line of Fire (Christen Press x reader)

Hey guys! Back again with another imagine. This one is a continuation from my other Press imagine, "The death of Preath". So I hope you enjoy!

Y/n's Pov

I was checking all the all the equipment in the fire engine with Dylan in case we got another call today. "Are all the tanks full?" Dylan asks loading the hose onto the truck. "Yup" I grunt as I lift the oxygen tanks into the truck before closing the door. "Here's hoping we don't have another call today" she laughs. "Fingers crossed. I just have to finish today and then I have time off to spend with Chris" I say crossing my fingers. "How is the fiancée? Any wedding planning done yet?" Dylan wiggles her eyebrows at me. I laugh, "She's good. The team is actually here for a match tomorrow against Ireland. So I think she is on media today. So I finish today, I go watch the match tomorrow and then we finally get time off. Might go on vacation somewhere get a bit of wedding planning done". "That's great. You deserve some time off with how many lives you save. People get to live their lives because of you, you should be allow live yours" Dylan claps me on the back. "Thanks Dyl, it means a lot" I thank him. "Your my best friend Y/n, all I want in return is an invite, so no eloping!" He jokes. It's my turn to make lunch for the station, so I go up to the kitchen and start to make spaghetti Bolognese while Dylan sets the table.

When it's done the team gathers around the table and starts to eat. We were half way through dinner when the alarm sounded. Immediately we all jolt up and rush to get ready. I slide down the pole and grab my protective gear and rush to engine one. Dylan and I jump in the back while our captain drives. "What's the story cap?" I shout through the coms. "A building downtown is after exploding and a fires broken out. People are still trapped inside" he responds. I turn to Dylan, "I had a few more hour and then I was off. I blame you, you jinx us" I joke. He chuckled and shake his head at me. When we get there, we hop out if the engine and get our gear on. The police already had people sectioned off a safe distance away from the fire. I turn to the nearest police officer, "Do you know how many are still inside?". "No! But we can see people on the 2 floor at the windows". Dylan's and I nod. We both burst through leaping through the fire. We cautiously make our way to the second floor. We get to the room and see a little girl crouching down beside a man on the ground, "Daddy? Daddy! Wake up!". I reach the girl first, "Hey we're going to help you and your Daddy okay?".

I pick up the little girl while Dylan takes her father throwing him over his shoulder. I hug the girl into my chest trying my best to protect her as best as I could. We run out if the house and get the two to the ambulance.  I look and see reporters and people at the boundary trying to see what's happening. The rest of the team are trying to control the fire spraying water onto the building. I see the building is ready to collapse, it's barely staying standing. "Do you think we got everyone?" Dylan asks. I shake my head, "I don't know". As if someone heard us, your question is answered,

"HELP! HELP!"

I turn to the building. There's someone still inside. Part of the building collapses on the right hand side and a scream follow. We hear the girl behind us struggle after the paramedics, "That's my sister! Reagan! Someone help her". The building starts to crumble, the doorway was engulfed with flames and was seconds from falling. Without even thinking I take off in a dead sprint back into the flames. "Y/N DON'T" Dylan calls from behind me. But it's too late, just as I get through the door it collapses behind me. Gotta find another way out now. "Reagan! Reagan where are you?" I call out throughout the house. "I'm here! Help please!". I try to navigate my way through the dense smoke. I stumble through and find a the girl pinned down under some debris. "Okay Reagan, when I lift the wood off your leg, I need you to move your leg okay sweetie?". She nods and starts coughing. There just be a lot of smoke in her lungs

I need to get her out if here now.

"Okay one the count of 3 okay? One...two...three!" I use all my strength to lift the burning wood up. The debris burned my hands and they were in excruciating pain but I held it up. She pulled her leg away and I dropped the wood. It was clear she was struggling to breath. I looked around trying to find an exit point. The door was blocked after it collapsing so that was a no go. There was no other way but up. I remember seeing a window on the second floor. If I get to the window I can get the girl down to the team. I quickly make my way up the stairs not trust the stability of it for much longer. When I get to the top, I see a line of fire blocking us from the window. I unzip my protective jacket and wrap it around the girls as best as I could trying to cover both of us as I hold her close to my chest, "I'm going to need to to hold on really tight okay". I run and jump through the flames and make my way to the window. I use the my axe to break the window. I stand in the window and call down to them, "Get the parachute! You need to catch her!". The team quickly get the parachute and spread out in front of the window. Once they were ready I'm about to throw her down for them to catch her using the parachute but she clings onto me, "No don't drop me!". I look at the little girl, "Listen to me okay. They are going to catch you. I promise, but you need to go now". She slowly nods. I toss her out the window and she lands in the middle of the parachute. The team gets her out of the parachute and to the paramedics quickly. "Cmon Y/n!" Dylan shouts up. But before I can jump, the ground underneath me collapses. My body hits the ground hard and I can feel more debris land on top of me. All I can hear is yelling and screams before everything goes black.

Christen's Pov

The team were gathered in Kelley's and I's room going team bonding. Some were playing cards on the floor while other were talking or playing on their switches. I was looking up ideas for the wedding when I hear Allie shout, "Is that Y/n?". I look up at the TV and see Y/n jump out if the fire engine and scan the building. "Kelley turn up the TV" I say. She nods and turns up the volume and hear the report talking, "We're here in downtown LA as firefighters arrive on the scene as there are still people trapped inside.  A gas line explosion started a fire and had engulfed the building in flames". The camera pans to the building. And we watch Y/n run into the building. "I never knew Y/n was a firefighter" Alex says. People nods along with Alex. We continue watching the news report and we see Y/n carry out a little girl of the house and hand her off for he paramedics. "Go Y/n! She just saved that little girl" Emily shouts. I breath a sigh of relief realising that she's safe now.

That is until there's an update.

"We've just got news that firefighter have rescued two from the fire." The reporter was cut off by a scream. The camera turns to the building, part of the building collapses. And all you can see is the blur of a firefighter's uniform sprint into the house just as the door collapses.

Please don't be Y/n. Please don't be her

I feel Tobin grab my hand and I squeeze back. "We've just got an update that there is still someone trapped inside, but it seems a firefighter has rushed back inside. The other firefighters have been fighting the fire and seem to be getting the fire under control but part of the house is still heavily engulfed in flames" the reports answers. After what feels like eternity, we see the firefighter with another little girl at a window on the second floor. The firefighter breaks the window and throws the girl down to where the other firefighters caught her using a big sheet. But before the firefighter could jump down the house collapsed as the firefighter disappeared for sight. My breath caught as the building fell in on itself reducing it to a pile of rumble. The whole room is silent and I feel feel my eyes water thinking the worst. Thinking that it was Y/n that was now trapped in the building. We could see firefighters immediately rush to put out the last of the fire. Finally the fire is put out and the firefighters start to dig through the debris.

My heart breaks when it turns back to the reporter, "It appears that firefighter Y/n L/n is now buried under the collapsed house after saving a little girl in the house. The rest of station 23 is searching for her. But at this very moment there is no updated on her condition". I let out a sob as it hits me.

Please be okay. I don't know what I'll do if she isn't okay

I start to break down crying. I feel someone wrap me in a hug as I try to buried myself into them. Praying that Y/n will be okay. I don't know how long it's been when I pull myself together enough to stop crying for a bit. I pull away to see it was Kelley hugging me and that the rest of the team left the room. "It's okay Christen. She's going to be okay you just got to have faith" she whispers to me. "She better be because I can't imagine life without her Kel" I rasp out.

Just then there's a knock on the door. I look at Kelley before going to answer the door. When I open the door I see Y/n's captain standing there still in uniform. I shake my head, "No this can't be real". I don't believe this, she's can't be gone.

"Chris"

I turn down the hallway and see Y/n leaning up against Dylan. Her face is covered in soot and her hair is all stuck to her face. Her hands are wrapped in bandages and she seems to be putting all her weight on her left leg as she uses Dylan as her human crutch. Once I snap out of my daze I run to her wrapping her a bone crushing hug. "It's okay. I'm okay. Everything's fine" she whispers to me. "How did you-". "The team pulled me out if the rubble quickly. I have a few bruised ribs and I'm a bit battered but I'll live" she interrupts me."I was so scared" I cry into her shoulder. "Hey you proposed to me. You ain't getting rid of me for a long time"she says before pulling me into a kiss. When she pulls away she wipes away my tears,

"I'll always come back to you"

There we go! Hope you guys enjoyed this imagine. If you have any prompts or requests feel free to message me or leave them in the comments. I also have a new book out so go and check it out if you like. Updates might be a bit slow for a bit cause I still have to finish school and Christmas is always manic in our house. So until next time, bye!

#woso #uswnt imagines #christen press imagines #christen press #christen press imagine #christen press x reader #kelley o'hara #tobin heath #allie long #uswntsoccer #uswnt #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt woso

[drethanramslay]

Part 5: Life and Death

Pairing: Aurora x MC (Iris Everette)

Word count: 4.2 K words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Warning: Physical Abuse, Emotional Abuse, torture, mention of suicide, violence slight description of blood. This chapter takes a dark turn and I am warning you guys.

Author's note: I usually keep this for the end but I just wanted to say, keep a box of tissues on standby.

Taglist: @miyakokurono @agent-breakdance @trappedinfandoms @vampiregirlsblog @openheart12 @sekizincimektup @lilyofchoices (let me know if you want to added or removed from the tag list)

Songs: Iris by Goo Goo Dolls , Numb by Declan J Donovan , Forever and Always by Parachute

Forgive me if there are any mistakes

"Seems like we will be here for sometime." Aurora said as she slid down to sit on the floor. Iris sighed as she sat opposite her.

A beat of silence passed over them, no one knowing where to start. Many times Iris opened her mouth and closed it like a goldfish, but nothing came out.

How did we come to this?

"I'm-" Iris began.

"Sorry." Aurora blurted out.

"What are you sorry for? You didn't do anything!!"

Aurora stammered. "I-I- I am so sorry that I called for a break when you were going through shit. I am so, so horrible and such a ginormous asshole-"

"NO." Iris moved towards and held her hands. "Do not for a second think that you are an asshole. You are an angel on this earth. A fucking blessing for my worthless self. You are- just...wow. I am so fucking lucky to have met you."

Aurora gave a small giggle. "You are not worthless babe." Iris smiled.  If she had a future, she would have spent all of the time making her smile and laugh.

"God I missed making you laugh so much.."

"I miss you too... You and me...are we good?"

Iris gave a fragile smile before sighing. "All my life, I have been alone. I had learnt from a young age that the world is evil place and that you can only depend yourself...when you left me, I could have spent a few days moping around and eventually gotten over you. It would have sucked but I would have been okay."

"Are you saying that you don't want me anymore?" Aurora's bottom lip quivered.

"No...the old me would have packed up and moved on....But I don't want to do that anymore. I don't want to live alone anymore. I don't want to run anymore. I want to be with you. I want to see you happy. I want to share the good, the bad and the ugly..."

Aurora leaned forward and hugged Iris. Iris clutched on to her like she was the anchor in this shit storm. Aurora placed a kiss on her crown. A pregnant pause later, Aurora spoke up.

"Adara...what did you mean by 'don't waste tears on a dead woman'? Are you....sick?"

Iris sighed. "No I am not sick. Just that my luck is fantastic... Guess it's story time because I am just tired of hurting you and me.."

"I was adopted by Grayson Alejandro and Francesca Everette- Alejandro. My mom could not have babies as a result of a bad accident that's why they were forced to adopt. My mom loved me as if I was from her own womb, and not for a single moment did she make me feel neglected. She would sing me Spanish lullabies and hold me when the thunder would scare me. There will always be a place in my heart for her." Iris teared up a little. Aurora squeezed her tighter, not letting her go.

"My dad? Not so much. He always resented my mom for a problem which wasn't even her fault. And he hated me, because to him, I was just an outsider stealing away all his wife's love. He had his days when he he actually acknowledged that he was a  father and was a good husband... But those were so rare that I could count those instances on one hand.

When I turned ten, his business started dipping into losses. He made couple of bad investments, which just made situations worse. Instead of using his fucking brain and doing something about it, the fucker would go and get drunk. Initially, he would just head to his room and sleep it off... But then, shit hit the fan."

Iris took a deep breath, bracing herself to continue the story.

"I was home alone one day, just doing my homework on the dining table. My mom had gone out to get groceries. I was pretty comfortable staying by myself. He entered home, drunk as usual but, he was angry. I could feel his wrath, emitting from him like seismic waves. He wanted to vent it out. And what is better than a small ten year old girl-" Iris choked.

"He picked me up by the scruff of my neck and threw me across the room. I hit the wall hard and landed on my side. I was in shock. I didn't understand what had I done. When I proceeded to ask him what was wrong he became even angrier. He grabbed me by my hair and slapped me, screaming that 'I' was the reason behind his ruin. That I was just a cursed child."

"I ran to my room when I heard my mom's home keys jingling. I went to the adjacent bathroom and tried to provide first aid as best as I could. I had such a nasty bruise on my hip, that I couldn't sit for a couple days. But I played it of, and prayed that this was a one time thing."

"It again happened within three month's time. The frequency and the intensity of the beatings slowly increased. He broke my left wrist twice in a matter of eight months. He had become daring and it was becoming hard to hide it from my mom. I didn't want her to know this. She was already stressed with the financial situation and I didn't want her to be beaten up by Grayson."

"I had turned thirteen and that was the first time he made me bleed. Earlier it was just throwing me around, kicking me and a ton of nasty bruises. It was so bad. I think I had forgotten to switch off the hallway light that one night. So, he stormed into my room and dragged me out to the kitchen. He bent me over the kitchen counter and he took a steak knife-" Iris sobbed. Aurora was flabbergasted. She had tears streaming down her face.

Iris took a deep breath to centre herself. "The scars you see on the back of my legs? That was his tally. A track on how many times I misbehaved. I have 24 full lines and a half. I just lay there screaming till my throat was sore but he didn't once stop." Iris' hand unconsciously reached for the back of her legs, feeling them through her scrub material.

"Did he ever r-"

"Thankfully no. Otherwise I would have ended my damn life."

Aurora sobbed. "Please don't talk like that Adara..please.."

"I'm sorry Rory..." Iris kissed he cheek as they lay in each other's arms.

"He used to beat me up when my mom was not around. One day, she found him and the meltdown that happened..." Iris shuddered at the memory.

"Did he ever abuse your mom?"

"Emotionally? Yes. Physically? He just backhanded her once when she tried to step in. After he was done beating me black and blue, my mom would tend to my injuries. She would cry and try to kiss them better. She always put forth a strong front, to keep our hopes alive and to keep me motivated. But we knew, that nothing would ever be okay as long as he was around."

"When my mom was hospitalized, god, it was hell. He stopped me from going to school. He would lock me in my room, give me food once a day. He didn't allow me to go meet my dying mother. He tried breaking my spirit by making me weak so that he could easily treat me as his punching bag. Some days I was so bruised that I looked like a Dalmatian."

Aurora was full fledged crying. Ugly sobs poured out of her, her heart breaking for this beautiful trauma in front of her.

Iris continued, rushing to unload all her baggage. "When I got that call that she was going to die, I escaped through my window. I ran to the hospital just in the nick of time. My mom had tears in her eyes when she saw my state. I held her in my arms and comforted her, just like she used to do for me... She told me that she had collected money which was just enough for me to finish high school and get through college. She gave me her will, because she trusted absolutely no one. She apologized for not being brave enough. She told me to never let my-"

"-spirit break.." Aurora completed the sentence, remembering the night she stitched her up in the empty hospital room.

"Yeah... I said my goodbyes and she passed away in my arms. When I reached home, entering through my window, he was waiting there. He wasn't even drunk.. that day I got one of the worst thrashing ever. Broken wrist, black eyes what not. He cut of the electricity to my room. He cut the water supply to my room as well. He even went as far as to nail my window shut." Iris blinked and more tears fell on Aurora's scrub.

"How did you get out?" Aurora asked as she caressed Iris's hair.

"My room was facing my neighbor's  window and they were so close that you could look into the room. Two weeks after my mom passed away, a family moved in. My current lawyer, Thomas's room, was facing mine. When I saw him move in, I immediate stuck a help me sign on the window. It took some time but then it finally caught their attention."

"We conversed through the window and I told them everything. Thomas's dad was a lawyer and we slowly came up with a plan. They both came home one day when I was still locked in my room half dead from thirst and starvation. My father greeted them and let them in. They laughed and chatted. Thomas's even asked him if he had any children, and guess what he said... He didn't?! That motherfucker was so mental that he forgot about his daughter who he hit seven ways to Sunday."

Aurora just held on to Iris, kissing her crown repeatedly.

Shit. This just is so fucked up...

"They bugged my house with hidden cameras and microphones. The local police had been informed and they were just waiting for the right moment. And that moment came."

"Grayson was pissed when he came home that day. He unlocked my room and dragged me to the living room. He wanted me to get water for him or something but I was so weak that I couldn't even pick up a tray. So I tripped and fell. And, he went ballistic.”

“He picked me up and threw me into the coffee table. It shattered under me due to the force. The scars on my back, it was because a six inch long glass had embedded in my back. It was so close to my spinal cord that even if it would have moved a little I could have been paralyzed neck down. He kicked me so hard that I fractured my ribs. He brought his favourite steak knife to carve another tally mark. At that moment I thought I was gonna die. And, I wouldn't have minded that. I would be in a happy place with my mom. I would be free from all this."

"I waited for the final blow but it never came. Police had stormed in and they were restraining him. Paramedics were running towards me and then I blacked out."

Aurora shuddered. Her heart ached so much. Thu carry such a painful party, sure would have taken a toll on anyone. Even the most beautiful roses have thorns, to protect themselves from predators.

"Thomas's dad represented me free of cost. They were going to jail him for 25 years but I don't know how, his lawyer reduced it to 12 years. And as he was leaving the court room, he said quote unquote- ' Don't for a moment think that I am going to give up. When I come out, I am going to come for you and kill you."

"After that I stayed with the Mendez family. They were literally blessings on earth. They paid for most of my bills. Mrs, Mendez, after I came home from the hospital, made sure I ate four times a day. And Mr. Mendez employed a home tutor, to cover up the portion left, so that I could graduate on time. And Thomas, god he is such a sweetheart. Initially, if any male touched me I would go into a full fledged panic attack. He would always be there whenever I had an attack... He would watch shows with me and kept me company whenever he had free time. It had been so long since I felt someone loved me."

"You deserve every good thing in this world Adara. You are always worth it."  Iris gave a fragile smile.

"Thomas had gotten out of law school and I was his first client. I had to go through intense physiotherapy to regain my strength. I was in and out of hospitals, be it for follow-up surgery or therapy."

"Therapy helped a little but I don't think anyone can every get over something like this. I discontinued it when I entered med school because I wanted it to be a fresh start. I could have gone and worked in Seattle or any place I wanted but I came back to Boston. To my roots. To be closer to my mom. And now, he is back. I was running from him when you found me."

"Oh MY GOD. I AM GOING TO KILL THAT SON OF A BITCH. LIKE HOW DARE HE TRAUMATIZE MY GIRLFRIEND!! THE HELL HE IS GONNA LAY A SINGLE FINGER ON YOU. HE IS GONNA CATCH THESE HANDS I-" Aurora's angry rant was interrupted by a giggle.

She looked down and saw her giggling. "Gosh. OMG you look as angry as a little kitten. So cute." Iris giggled again.

"Hey! These hands can giveth life and taketh them as well."

They laughed a little more, before they settled in a comfortable silence.

"Why do you think people say I love you?" Iris asked.

"I dunno man. Maybe because they love each other." Aurora snorted, kind of confused by the sudden change in topic. Her heart was beating faster.

Oh it's happening. Aurora stay calm. STAY FUCKING CALM.

"Yeah I know but I honestly feel there is a difference in 'I love you' and 'I'm in love with you'. The former is with family and friends who most of the times stay loyal to you. But the latter is when you have romantic feelings towards a person. It is just so weird y'know? There is just a difference of one word yet the meanings are so different."

"That's true. But why the sudden change in topic? Not that I mind." Aurora asked breathlessly.

Iris turned towards Aurora with vivid green eyes. "Because I am in love with you Aurora Lucille Emery."

Aurora's breath had been taken away for the second time that evening.

She loves me. SHE FUCKING LOVES ME.

With tears in her eyes, she cupped Iris' face, "I am completely and utterly in love with you too Iris Adara Everette. I have been since the day you broke Vincenzo's hand. I loved you even when we were on a break. And I will, continue loving you till the last breath."

The way Iris' face lit up, was one of the best things she had ever seen in the world. Their lips met and they could feel firecrackers burst around them, their hearts bursting with the amount of love they had for each other.

They were sitting on the floor of an elevator, which was stuck in a storm, but nobody gave a damn.

This was their moment.

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

"So what do we do Thomas?" Aurora asked as she rubbed Iris' back. They were in Ethan's office, deciding what is the steps they need to take. Ethan was pacing in the office, his eyes looking like a slow brewing storm.

"Well first of all, we are going to apply for a protective order. Iris I know how you feel about it but that was a decade ago. The laws now will protect you better. Trust me." Thomas spoke in a very somber voice.

"Okay. Tell me what I need to do." Iris took a deep breath.

"Grayson was made aware of the restraining order filed against him by you. And since he violated them twice once by calling you and the second time by showing up at your work place, we can hold charges against him and that can throw him in a holding cell temporarily."

"That's good right? We need more time so that we can send his ass packing into prison." Aurora spoke with such determination that Iris was blown away.

"Now, Iris correct me if I am wrong, he threatened you, right?"

"Yes. He said that he would kill me. I can send you the voice recording now if you want."

"Yes, that would be perfect. Now I want you to listen to me carefully. I know that no court would be open now. So, go home and get your evidence ready. You will go to court the first thing in the morning tomorrow and sign the affidavit asking for the Protection Order. They will give you temporary one before they set a date for hearing."

"Do you have your restriction order on you right now?" Thomas asked.

"I have it with me. I will send a photo." Ethan piqued in.

"Good, good. After you assemble your evidence, go and stay in a hotel for the night. Take a friend or your girlfriend with you. It's so that nobody can get caught as collateral. And you can stay safe."

"Ethan and I will take her home and then head to a hotel." Aurora spoke into the phone.

"Yes. And I will be coming down tomorrow as soon as possible, 'kay? Luz would like to meet her aunty Iris as well."

Iris gave a small smile. "Thanks Tommy. See you tomorrow."

"Yeah, bye Iris. Please stay stay and don't you fucking die."

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"If you don't come down in five minutes, I will call the police and the fucking army to storm your penthouse. And no, I'm not taking any criticism." Aurora spoke in a stern voice.

"Yes ma'am." Iris gave a fake salute. Despite things being bad, she felt some hope. Hope that this could end once and for all.

Hope. What a wonderful thing.

"I am going in with her." Ethan said as he unfastened his seat belt.

"Okay let's go." They both stepped out into the Boston night. Iris took a deep breath, smelling the night wind with hints of the sea. When she stepped into the lobby, she expected to see Hugh, their security guard but he wasn't there.

Huh. Strange. Must have gone to take a leak probably. Iris brushed off her doubts.

They stepped into the lift and she pressed the button to the penthouse level.

"Thank you Ethan."

"For what?"

"For helping me. You are my boss and you didn't have to-"

Ethan rolled his eyes and stopped her. "Shut up Everette. You are like a younger sister and I would really like to to see that asshole behind bars. So relax."

They reached the her home and she unlocked the door and entered.

"Go and get your stuff. I will be waiting in the living room."

Iris turned to head towards her room. She started packing her old papers, her restriction order and enough clothes for a night into a messenger bag. She was fast and thorough in her work. She was about to head out of her room when a crash and bang stopped her in her tracks.

It could not have been Ethan. Ethan was not clumsy and he had the hands of a surgeon. Stable and sure.

She picked up her trusty pocketknife and hid it in the sleeves of her leather jacket. She knew it wasn't much but it would atleast help her evade the attacker.

She slipped into the darkness, walking softly, making sure her footsteps weren't heard. She almost screamed when she saw Ethan's body, lying face down. She quickly rushed to his side, bend down and pressed two fingers to his neck.

She felt a pulse. It was weak but he would survive.

In the quiet environment of the penthouse, she heard the soft click of a gun. She froze in her place.

"He will survive. Didn't do much damage. But can't say the same about you mija. Get up. No funny moves."

Iris slowly got up. While she was at it, she sneakily speed dialed Aurora's number, so that Rory could hear some part of the conversation and call the police.

"Lift your hands."

She raised her hands above her head and turned around. "Grayson." She spat his name. She hoped that she won't be stick with this guy for a long time.

Stall him. Attack only when necessary.

"God you need to start showing me some fucking respect." He slowly stepped out of the shadows.

"I don't show respect to dickheads."

"Wow. When did you get so ballsy? The old you would be whimpering on the floor."

"I grew up. Matured with time. Can't say the same for you. You look like a wrinkly ball sack."

God Iris why can't you for once use your fucking mind and shut your trap. It's a life and death scenario, dammit.

"I'm gonna enjoy tearing you limb by limb." Iris looked around, assessing the place. The entrance was blocked by him and there was no point running into her room because that would be nothing but a dead end. The only place which looked like a safe bet was the kitchen island, where Sienna's knives set was placed. Finding the fastest route she turned her flashing eyes towards him.

"Try me bitch."

He let out a war cry and started shooting at her. Iris ducked and lithely slipped behind the island counter. She felt a twinge of pain in her arm, where the bullet grazed her but she didn't pay any attention to it. She grabbed the sharp knife and waited with bated breath.

I need to get that gun a way from him.

"Oh, so we are gonna play hide and seek huh? Ready or not here I comeee." Grayson sang out.

She waited and waited and when she saw his shadow approaching her she leaped out her hiding place and struck his hand, forcing him to drop the gun. She kicked it under the fridge. She vaulted herself with the help of the kitchen counter and kicked him in the chest.

"Now this is a fair fight." Iris gripped her knife tightly and ran towards him.

She sent a flurry of jabs and hook shots on him. He cowered, trying to block the best he could do. Her knife sliced his stomach and blood poured out in copious amount. But that victory was not very long lived. He punched her on the face, momentarily disorienting her. He took the hand with the knife and smacked it against his kneecap, resulting in her to drop her weapon.

"You bitch!!" He aimed for her in the stomach again but this time, she was prepared. She blocked and hit both her hands on his temples. She then thrust her palm upwards, breaking his nose.

"You should plan for retirement, probably in a jail cell asshole." Iris taunted, enjoying the blood gushing down his face. She knew it was sadistic but this man, tormented her for six consecutive years. He deserved worse.

"Aaarrghhhhh!!!" He tackled her and landed on top of her, knocking the breath out of her. He wrapped his hands around her throat and started choking. "I wanted to extend this playtime with you but you aren't being cooperative-" he squeezed some more. Iris was choking and her vision was getting darker on the periphery.

I won't go like this.

Iris started flapping her legs, trying to get a good hit but, Grayson's grip was tight. "Adios, puta."

"Why don't you adios your ass outta here!!" Aurora screamed as she hit his head with a baseball bat.

If iris wasn't half unconscious, she would have found it hot. Coughing, she tried to get large gulps of air into her screaming lungs.

Aurora was relentless, she continued to beat the fucking shit out of him. She hit him so hard that the fucking bat broke. Iris had her jaw on the floor. She tried to get up but a sharp pain went up her hand and leg. She saw that she has another bullet embedded in the meaty part of her thigh, bleeding profusely. Her wrist was sprained and she had a black eye.

Grayson, even though he looked more like human pulp, kicked Aurora's legs out and she fell. That guy is like a cockroach, Iris groaned internally. They wrestled and stood up. There were punches and curses thrown at each other. He was about to attack Aurora when gunshots rang through the air. The police were at the door and they had shot.

Grayson collapsed and groaned in pain. Aurora stood there, catching her breath. She slowly let out a long breath. She turned towards Adara and smiled. She tried walking to her, but she stumbled.

Falling.

"RORY NO!!" Iris dived forward, ignoring the pain in her leg, to catch the falling woman. She caught her in her arms and when she looked down, she saw a knife sticking out from her stomach. Blood was just pouring out fast and pooling around them, like a red halo.

"Rory you fucking idiot." Iris cried out.  She took out her top and pressed against the wounds but, there were too many stab wounds.

That son of a bitch!!

"Don't worry..... Doesn't hurt." Aurora wheezed out, but she winced.

"Don't fucking lie to me. Why would you fucking do that?!" Iris cried out, feeling completely and utterly helpless. She tried to stop the bleeding by applying pressure, but it didn't help. More and more blood poured out, just like a river.

"We need EMT's right now. We have three casualties and two of them are severely injured." The policewoman spoke into her com.

"You...are free...now." Aurora gasped out. The pain was too much. Too damn much.

"What is even the fucking point of being free when you are not there?!" Iris cried as she pressed her head against Aurora's.

"I...love you...so much.. I am so-" Aurora coughed, and blood coating her lips. "-so greatful to have...met you."

"No Rory!! I want to have a future with you. I want to marry you, adopt children with you. Get fat and old with you. Spend every waking moment beside you. I love you so fucking much, I can't see my future without you in it. Don't you get it?! There is no 'me' without you!!"

Tears rolled down Aurora's eyes. At this point, it was hard to differentiate whose tears they were. "I am so lucky...to die in the arms of a...woman I love...nobody gets...that."

The darkness was slowly calling out to Aurora like a siren. It was so so easy to just slip into the other side. So tempting. There was just a single rope tethering her to the world.

Iris. Her Adara. Her little red.

"Rory NO!! You feel fucking stay alive for me okay?! You are gonna fucking fight this and survive. I just can't loose another person I love to that son of a bitch!!"

"It's okay little red... Go live your life for the two of us....Make me ...prou-"

"RORY FUCKING NO!! HEY LEMME GO HEY- RORY PLEASE BABY STAY ALIVE STAY-"

.....

...

..

.

I had to take breaks while writing this because it became so hard to type with blurry eyes.

before you guys come at me with pitchforks, there is an EPILOGUE. Be on the lookout, you do NOT want to miss that.

Thank you for giving me a chance to share this story with you guys:)

#choices #choices oh #playchoices #choices stories you play #choices stories we play #open heart #open heart 2 #ohsy #open heart mc #open heart fanfiction #aurora emery #oh Aurora #aurora x mc

[another-sonic-blog]

This is a request for a SonAmy prompt! The gang have been attacked by Eggman, but it’s a really brutal attack as it leaves Amy seriously injured, and Sonic has to save her through the wreckage and it comes to light just how deeply devoted he is to her. Sorry if that’s weird or doesn’t make sense 😅

It was impossible to see anything beyond his nose. He coughs desperately as he felt dust entering his lungs. He moves his hands drastically around his eyes so he could try to see better but it wasn't doing any good. The Resistance's alarm resonated across the hall and it pained his sensitive ears.

His senses were all blocked but he just knew that Eggman had attacked the Resistance HQ.

He heard the agents trying to exit the building as fast and as calm as they could but it wasn't to find safety, it was to fight the robots that were coming their way.

"Sonic, your assistance is required outside."  

Sonic focused his attention on the wrist communicator and responded accordingly.

"I'm on my way, Tails."

Sonic tried to ignore the pain that was on his knee. He got injured when the first bomb landed and sent him flying across the next room. However, right now, it wasn't time to think about the pain. His friends needed him.

He tried to ignore the pain as he went outside the Resistance HQ. In fact, there was more than just one type of robot. All of the different abilities, like throwing fire or electric shocks.

It was going to be a difficult battle.

Sonic felt anxious enough, watching the Resistance's agents fight. Some of them were already down on the mud, others were bleeding terribly and some just try their best to keep fighting.

On the mist of the battle, all agents and soldiers of the Resistance heard Tails speak through their wrist communicator.

"The Resistance has been infiltrated by Eggman's forces. We request the assistance of agents class C inside the building now."

"I'll be going in too," Sonic said to Tails through the communicator as he dodged a punch from a robot.

"Sonic, no. You are needed outside."

Sonic finished the robot in front of him by a spin-dash, he tried his best to get his breath back.

He placed his communicator close to his mouth.

"Where are you and Amy?"

"I am heading outside, Amy insisted on staying a few more minutes inside. She said she will meet us later."

Sonic didn't answer after that. He got busy as he helped a soldier escape from a robot. His right knee was hurting too much at this point, but he just couldn't stop.

For now, Sonic couldn't do anything but to trust that Tails and Amy would make it out alright.

But if in 10 minutes they weren't out, he was going back inside the building.

Five minutes later, the robots retracted. Just like they came, they went away. It wasn't normal for this kind of thing to happen since Eggman never was known to go down without a fight.

Especially a fight that he was winning.

The agents and soldiers looked at each other, wondering what was happening or what had caused the sudden retreat.

Sonic knew that something wasn't right. He looked everywhere and he found Tails heading to his Tornado.

He kept looking but he didn't the one he was looking for.

He promised to himself that he was going to wait at least 10 minutes.

But that wasn't happening anymore.

He began to hop towards the building as fast as his broken ankle let him.

Then, everyone saw it coming.

And in a second, another bomb struck the Resistance HQ. It landed exactly in the Main Room...where Amy was.

Some agents and soldiers, including Sonic, were sent flying towards trees and bushes or just the muddy ground.

Sonic could feel that some of the tree branches he landed at were piercing his body. More blood was coming out of him, his vision was blurry and pain just covered his whole body.

He could hear a lot of steps coming towards him and whispering and screaming began.

"We need to take him to the hospital soon!"

"The nearest one is four miles away! I'll use the Tornado to take him." Tails said as Sonic felt being picked up by his arms and legs.

"Amy...", Sonic whispered softly as he tried to get free from their grasp.

"Some agents went to check for her inside the HQ." Tails reassured him as he started the Tornado. Sonic felt his body being placed on the place but he tried to stand up, looking for a safe exit.

Sonic may be a stubborn one, but he had his reasons. Lately, he felt like Amy and he was becoming apart. He felt like he wasn't with her as much as he should be. He was failing her but if there was one thing he could do was to stay committed to save her and to be with her whenever she needed him.

And right now, she needed him.

"I need to go." He said. "To her."

"You can't. You are very injured! I'll take you to the hospital right this instant."

"Amy..."

"She will be fine! She's very strong! And class S agents went to look for her! Don't worry!"

Tails tried to comfort his blue friend as he put to fly his plane.

Already on the air, Tails gave one last look to Sonic, who seemed to be drifting into sleep, which wasn't any good.

Tails kept his eyes on the air as he asked questions,

"You know, maybe after this, it would be good if tell Amy about how you feel."

"...Yes, maybe." Sonic answers almost like a whisper.

"It's been a long time since you told me you wanted to take her to the beach...she likes it but it terrifies you, right?" Tails asked again as he kept his eyes on the path.

"I wasn't going to tell you this but seeing you need a push, I think you need to hurry up and open up to her because well..." Tails added, "Shadow is...very interested in her as well."

Tails waited for an answer but as he didn't receive one, he turned his face to look at the back of his seat just to see that Sonic wasn't there anymore.

He had jumped as everyone watched in awe.

Tails sighed as he saw Sonic's wrist communicator transform into a parachute, good thing he had installed many accessories to the wrist communicator.

Agents and soldiers watched with admiration.

"I don't know if he is amazing..." One of the soldiers added as he watched the blue one softly land on the Resistance rooftop. "Or he is just crazy."

"He is crazy...crazy in love with Ms.Rose." said an agent as she smiled to herself, hoping that one day she would find someone who will things like that for her.

There were rumors around the Resistance that the blue world-renowned hero was in love with the Resistance's captain.

And this just proved how devoted Sonic was to her.

Sonic landed right on the Resistance's rooftop and he hoped downstairs to look for the Resistance's Main Room.

He really wasn't expecting himself to react the way he did it. He remembers talking to Tails about Amy and the next second, he was on the air.

He coughs desperately and saw stains of blood on his gloves.

He continued.

"Mr. Sonic!" One of the agents of the Resistance approached him. "Please exit the building, we will find Amy and bring her to you!"

"No..." Sonic said almost in a whispered. He looked at the S squad, the top agents of the Resistance and added. "All of you, leave...I'll look for Amy by myself."

The cat agent looked at him in desperation, Sonic could barely stand and he still wouldn't let anyone help him.

"Please, trust us!"

"Stop being stubborn! You can end up dead!"

"It's not that..." Sonic breathed heavily, "It has to be me...I have to be the one to save her...I am her hero."

The agents looked at each other and nodded at Sonic and before leaving they added, "If you and Ms.Rose are not out in 15 minutes, we will come back for both of you."

Sonic nodded and saw them leave. He then continued his path once again and was glad to see that he was close to the Resistance's Main Room.

He finally reached the Main Room's door and he could clearly see that it was going to be hard to open. It would usually open with the fingerprint recognition, but seeing that that machine was destroyed, he thought the next best option was a spin-dash.

But would his body withstand it?

If Amy was there and she needed to be carried, he wouldn't do any good if his body gave up on him with the spin-dash.

But suddenly his problem was solved he saw Amy take down the door with her hammer. More dust came as and it softly subsided and Amy came into the picture.

"Sonic?!" Amy approached him. "You look terrible! What are you doing here?"

"I would say the same about you." Sonic looked at Amy, up and down just to make sure she was good. She was holding her arm and was standing for resistance on her right foot. Bleeding on her head.

"Broken arm?" Sonic asked.

"Affirmative...broken ankle?"

"More like broken everything."

Amy gave him a soft look. Sonic was a lot of things and being reckless was one of them.

"You know..." Sonic began, "You could have said you were ok, you have your wrist communicator, you know?"

"It's broken," Amy said as she showed him a destroyed communicator. "But looking at yours, it seems like it's working. We should tell everyone we are on our way."

"No need."

Both hedgehogs turned around as they heard a familiar voice approaching them.

"I'll take you both out of this building right now," Shadow said as he took out his red Chaos Emerald.

"Well, what took you so long? I called you like 15 minutes ago!" Amy said and Sonic looked at her surprised.

"You called him...and not me?"

"Yes, I needed him to help me protect the Chaos Emerald we have here," Amy added.

"Sorry," Shadow apologized as he got close to both hedgehogs. "I needed to do other things...Why do you think the robots retreated?"

"It was you?" Sonic decided to put his arm around Amy's shoulder. Amy took it as if he needed assistance to stand still but Sonic had something else in mind.

"Yes, I went to Eggman's base." Shadow was quick to break the two. He held Amy around her waist while he placed s hand os Sonic's shoulder.

"We don't need your help...I was fine saving Amy until you arrived." Sonic gave him green eyes and Shadow only responded teasingly.

"Must be sad to know that you are not Amy's only hero."

"Can he leave already? The building is about to collapse!" Amy asked angrily. Shadow smirked at both of them and Chaos Controlled the three of them out the Resistance HQ.

The agents quickly approached the three hedgehogs. They separated Sonic from Shadow and Amy as they took him again towards Tails' Tornado.

"Wait, but..." Sonic said as he looked behind the black and pink one. Smiling and teasing each other way to comfortably.

"No 'buts' Sonic, we are taking you to the hospital right now!" Tails said as he began to start the plane.

Sonic sighed, as the agents and soldiers placed him on the back seat. Shadow was right, Amy had a new hero and that was Shadow. He was the one who saved both of them today and there was no doubt about that.

He failed her.

He then saw Amy approaching him, and from the bottom of the plane, she smiled at him.

"Thank you, Sonic." She said.

"Why?" He asked, "I didn't do anything."

"What are you talking about? You saved me!" Amy blushed a little, a bit shy for what she was about to say.

"You are my hero."

That came out almost like a whisper but Sonic heard her perfectly. He smiled at her, he knew she had grown a lot and it has been a long time since she called him 'her hero' but hearing it again, reassured him.

"I'll always save you, Amy," Sonic added. "Always."

And he meant it.

.

.

.

A.N: Thank you for the prompt, I hope you enjoyed reading this! I love writing SonAmy once in a while and your prompt was very refreshing! Sorry it took so long, if you have any more requests let me know! Thank you again:)

#sonamy #sonic x amy #amy rose #sonic the hedgehog #sonamy fanfiction #sonic fanfiction #sonic fanfic #fanfiction #romance #sonic and amy #amyrose

[brooktrout96]

Truth & Meeting

Empathy

em·pa·thy [ˈempəTHē]

1.the ability to understand and share the feelings of another.

Markus was walk around the lower part of Jericho as a familiar android walked into his sight and he hugged him

Simon.” The two hugged each other. “Where’s Y/N.” He asked

Y/N….” Simon said as he paused to decide on his words. Markus knew that her prosthetic were damage and she took a bullet to the joint of her prosthetic leg.

Simon, just tell me what happened after we jumped”

Alright Markus. after Y/N made her decision to stay with me. She as you already know had her parachute with her. She hide it with me as she slowly tried to keep me from dying, while she had injuries herself. You knew of the one in her thigh, she also took a bullet to her left shoulder which caused issue with her left hand”

~***~

The two hide in a storage container. Y/N was trying to do some simple repairs on Simon, but her dominant hand wouldn’t let her, so it took her a bit longer to do the repair work as she listen to what was going on the roof.

How’d they manage to smuggle in a big bag like that?”

They didn’t” Y/N recognized the voice as she shove Simon way in the back of the container

What’s wrong, Y/N?” Simon asked in a whisper as she took the gun from him

The Deviants Hunters are here, and I have a plan to keep you safe. Just don’t do anything stupid after I begin my plan. Please just stay here until I can come get you or the coast is clear.” Simon nodded his head as the two heard the two Hunters speak again

Oh, that’s strange. They planned a perfect operation but got the number of parachutes wrong.”

Unless one of the deviants was left behind.” A few minutes later the door to the storage container opened as Y/N let out a shot from the gun that Markus and the rest had left with her and Simon as she shot at the Deviant Hunter, he then stumbled back from the container and she stumbled out of the container trying to keep her balance, but her leg had seize up from the loss of Blue Blood. Simon wanted to help her, but he remember what she asked him to do as he heard the Hunters and Y/N speak

I surrender, I surrender, I’ll come peacefully. Just stop shooting, please. I don’t want to died.” She whimpered in pain and in fear of her life

Enough, she unarmed. Put your hand behind your back.”

It’s you, why are you helping them?”

~***~

It took me a while before I was repaired enough to make it back here, but Y/N left enough Thirium and parts for me in case I needed to make more repair and she had repair most of the damage before everything that happened to her.” Simon said as Markus nodded his head and said

She is a hero once again for us.” Simon shook his head as he said

“But I could tell that she was hiding something, Markus but I was wondering? Did you notice her wounds bleed blue instead of red like humans should?”

She did speak of an accident where she lost her an arm and leg. Do you think that might be it?” Simon shakes his head in disbelief and said

I don’t know but I think that there could be something else going on with her.”

~***~

Y/N’s POV

I was once again in the interrogation room of DPD. Handcuffed this time with handcuffs meant for androids on my wrist as my prosthetics begin to act up as Connor entered with a file folder in his hand. He set down with a frown on his face

Let’s try this again. Y/N Dechart age 31, former mechanic for CyberLife, graduated at the top of her class in Robotic and Mechanical engineering, with a minor in chemistry, while also at the same time interning for CyberLife under their former CEO Elijah Kamski. Well known for her work on the RK series of androids.” He looked up at you. “So how did you and the androids infiltrated Stratford tower without alerting the police.” You stayed quite as the pain in your arm was too much as tears appeared in your eyes as you finally spoke

We planned it out since it is easy to request the building plans of a building.” You said nonchalantly as the pain of your prosthetics hit you and you groaned in pain as you spoke to him. He shook his head.

Why did you help the Deviants?” You looked at Connor and said

I’m not as human as you think, Connor. I was in an accident while working on one of the RK Prototypes. I actually think it was you. A explosion happened in my lab and my right arm and left leg was pinned by rubble and the first responders couldn’t move the rubble off of me, so they had to amputated them.” I lied to Connor as Connor and the officers watching were confused since you had both of your arms and legs

When I awoke Eli was standing over me with a smile on his face and he said to someone I couldn’t see that it worked, and he explained to me that they tried my experimental procedure on myself to give me back the use of my arm and leg that I lost, and that they were replaced with android’s Biocomponents.” You said as your synthetic skin on your prosthetics failed and Connor stared at the white of your arm. Connor shook his head as he continued to ask question.

I sided with them because they understand me, they trust me as one of them, and I feel more comfortable with android who won’t ridicule me for having androids’ biocomponents then the human who learn the truth about me.” You paused. “Markus is doing what’s right for his people.”  He got up and left as another officer escorted you to the holding cell before you would be sent to prison to  await your trial

~***~

DPD has release that they had caught one of the five androids who infiltrated Straford tower, but they have yet to release the name and model of the android.” The voice of the tv echoed as the three-secondary leader of Jericho talked

Our broadcast is all over the news and Y/N was captured once again. We got what we wanted. Now the humans know.” Simon said as the other two set down as North spoke

It was a mistake to reach out to them. They’ll never negotiate with their slaves. We should have shown them that we’re prepared to fight.”

Violence is never the answer. Y/N wanted us to stay peaceful as possible and she wants us to shed no blood if possibly. Dialogue is the only way. I’m sure the humans will listen to us.” Josh said as he looked at North

They’ll be watching us now. Especially since they captured Y/N, and she gave herself up to save me. I wonder if they know that there was another android hiding up there with her?” Simon shook his head. “Well, whatever we do next, we need to think about public opinion.” He set down as North spoke from her spot

Since our broadcast, more and more have been coming to Jericho. At least our message gave our people hope.”

Killing humans wasn’t part of the plan. It wasn’t what Y/N or Markus wanted.” Simon said as North shook her head

They kill our people every day. Do you think they agonize about it?”

That’s no reason for us to become murderers. Y/N wanted this to be as peaceful as could be and that is what we should do, and she got herself caught for us by saving Deviants, and now to save Simon.”

I don’t know how you trust that human. She is just like the rest of them.” North spat at Josh. “But if killing is the price of freedom. I’ll pay it gladly!”

Killing never freed anyone it just leads to more hatred!” Josh said as North got up from her spot

You’re too fond of human, especially her, Josh. Maybe their life matter to you more than ours?”

If you think murdering humans is going to make us free, then you’re as bad as they are! Y/N saved Simon from the damn Deviant Hunters and she let herself get caught to protected Jericho and its people. You know if the Deviant Hunter was able to forceful interface with me, he probably would’ve caught a glance of Jericho from my memories” Simon spat at North as he stepped between the two as they froze and saw Markus arrive

And now what are we going to do?”

There are five CyberLife stores across Detroit. All selling us like merchandise. We’re going to attack those stores and set our people free” Markus explained his plan

Attack stores?” Josh said. “We’ve never done that before…. They’re probably protected. They have security systems.”

Not to mention police….” Simon said as Markus continued to explain his plan.

We break into five teams, one for each store. We hack their security systems and we strike simultaneously at 2AM. No violence. We free our people, get them out of there before the police come

~***~

You were confused as you were dragged into a vehicle and taken out to the middle of nowhere. I watched as Hank got out after he parked the car to take a phone call as Connor followed him, and I listen in to what the two were talking about as the pain of my damages were getting to me. I knew who we were going to met

Is everything ok, Lieutenant?”

Chris was on patrol last night. He was attack by a bunch of Deviants. He said he was saved by Markus, himself.”

Is Chris ok?”

Yeah, he’s in shock but he’s alive. The thing is Markus had a gun to his head and could’ve shoot him, but it didn’t. What the hell.” You had a smile on your face as you heard Hank talking to Connor. Then Connor helped you get out of the car since your left leg couldn’t support your weight. You held on to Connor as the two walked to the door of the house and one stumbled as the two officers talked

Kamski left CyberLife ten years ago. Why did you wanna meet him?”

This guy created the first android to pass the Turing Test and he’s the founder of CyberLife. Anybody can tells us about deviants it’s him.”

And Miss Dechart is here, why?”

Because she requested it. He’s the only one that knows how to do the repairs that she needs on her prosthetic.”

Hi.” Before Hank could say anymore. The original, the first Chloe saw you leaning on Connor and she grabbed you and said

Elijah has been waiting for you, Y/N” You leaned on her as she lead you to Elijah’s lab and then went back to deal with Hank and Connor. Elijah walked in and saw the cuffed woman with her white arm and leg.

What did you do this time?” he asked as you had a smile on your face.

I went and help start an peaceful revolution and I took a bullet to the joint where my biocomponents meet, I didn’t want anyone mess around with them, and I also didn’t want anyone finding out the truth about what you did to me to save me after the damn explosion.” He tinkered with your arm and leg trying to get back in working condition

Hey Y/N,” he looked up at your face

What Eli?”

I would like you to do me a favor.” He explained his plan to you as he finished repairing your prosthetics

~***~

3rd person POV

Connor was scanning the room that the Chloe had left them in as she took Y/N to see Kamski. There was a photo that caught his eye was of a smiling trio.

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

Stern, Amanda

AI Professor at University of Colbridge

Born: 05/14/78 – Died: 02/23/27

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

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

Kamski, Elijah

AI Graduate at University of Colbridge

Born: 07/17/02

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

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

Dechart, Y/N

Chemistry Graduate at Cornell University

Robotic Graduate at University of Colbridge

Mechanical Engineering Graduate at University

of Colbridge

Born: 03/17/07 – Died: 02/23/27

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

Y/N is dead?” Connor thought to himself as he stared at the photo of the trio. “What did Kamski do to save her and how did he save her?” He paused as he looked at and scanned the other people in the photo. The duo talked a while more about things that are happening, they were invited in to see Elijah by Chloe. Connor saw Y/N sitting in a chair as she chatted with another Chloe. She looked up and saw the duo and flashed them a smile as Elijah got out of the pool as another Chloe dressed him in a black robe and he put his hair up in a man bun.

I’m Lieutenant Anderson. This is Connor and you seem to know Miss Dechart.” Y/N smiled as Hank introduced himself and Connor to Elijah

What can I do for you, Lt? You’re not just here to allow me to repair my dear friend’s prosthetics.” He said as he gestured to Y/N, who got up and stood next to Elijah and Chloe

Sir, we’re investigating Deviants. I know you left CyberLife years ago, but I was hoping you’d be able to tell us something we don’t know.” Kamski looked at Y/N and smiled.

Deviants, fascinating, aren’t they? Perfect beings with infinite intelligence, and now they have free will. Machines are so superior to us, confrontation was inevitable.” Y/N looked away as Kamski spoke.

“Humanity’s greatest achievement threatens to be its downfall. Isn’t it ironic? Right Y/N?” She nodded her head as she knew what Connor was probably going to say unless he was more Deviant then he lets on

~***~

Y/N POV

We need to understand how androids become Deviants. Do you know anything that could help us?”  

All ideas are viruses that spread like epidemics. Is the desire to be free a contagious disease?” Elijah said as Hank jumped into the conversation trying to get answers

Listen, I didn’t come here to talk philosophy. The machines you created may be planning a revolution. Either you can tell us something that’ll be helpful, or we will be on our way.” Elijah looked at Connor as you glanced over to the android

What about you, Connor? Whose side are you on?”

I have no side. I was designed to stop Deviants, and that’s what I intend to do.” Kamski gave a chuckle as he said

Well, that’s what you’re programmed to say but you what do you really want?

What I want is not important.”

Y/N?” He turned to you as you walked over to him and then he turned back to Connor and he was confused why you seem so mechanical like, so android like. “Connor what if I told you that the reason behind Miss Dechart’s Biocomponents.” This pikes Connor interest.

“I bet you have an inkling about it, though. The photo probably told you everything you need to know.” He turned and walked closer to you as you force a smile on your face knowing what Elijah is think about, what  Connor might do. “I’m sure you’re familiar with the Turing test. Mere formality, simple question of algorithms and computing capacity.” He face you in front of the two as he continued to speak

What interests me is whether machines are capable of empathy. I call it “the Kamski test,” it’s very simple, you’ll see.” Hank was confused but Connor had an idea of what you were. “Magnificent, isn’t it? The first time that the humans’ memories were transferred successfully0 into an android, but it is still a machine, isn’t it but what is it, really. Piece of plastic imitating a human who died too soon? Or a living being?” Kamski walked to a drawer behind him and opened the drawer and pulled out a gun.

“With a soul.” He turned to face the duo with the gun in his hand as you went down to your knees, you were shaking as you looked into his chocolate brown eyes with a look of ‘do it, I dare you’ or ‘don’t do it. I AM ALIVE. Let me live.’ on your face.

It’s up to you to answer that fascinating question, Connor. Destroy this machine who has the memories and knowledge of an old friend and partner of mine and I’ll tell you all I know. Or spare it, if you feel it’s alive and that it is a human, but you’ll leave here without learnt anything from me.”

Okay,” Hank said. “I think we’re done here.” Hank turned to leave. “Come on, Connor. Let’s go. Sorry to get you outta your pool.”

What’s more important to you, Connor? Your investigation, or the life of this abomination, neither human nor android? Something that shouldn’t exist, but it does. So….” You noticed Connor’s LED blinking yellow as Elijah spoke. “Decide who you are. An obedient machine or a living being endowed with free will.”

That’s enough! Connor, we’re leaving.”

Pull the trigger.”

Connor! Don’t”

Just do it Connor!” You screamed as your voice waivered. “Kill me for the knowledge that you seek.” You paused. “I shouldn’t be alive, anyways, please just put me out of your misery.” Then you said something in a whisper that only Connor could hear. “I’m so sorry Markus. I love you and I will miss you.” Kamski had a smile on his face as he finished his sentence

And I’ll tell you what you wanna know.” You closed your eyes and you waited for the bang, but it never came, and you open your eyes and saw Connor handing the gun back to Elijah as he spoke

Fascinating, CyberLife’s last chance to save humanity is itself a Deviant.”

I’m. I’m not a Deviant.”

You preferred to spare a machine rather than accomplish your mission.” Elijah helped you up as you walked towards Hank. “You saw a living being in Y/N. Someone in all actually shouldn’t be alive but she is because she is an android. You showed empathy. A war is coming, you’ll have to choose your side. Will you betray your own people or stand up against your creators? What could be worse than having to choose between two evils?” Hank grabbed Connor as he said

Let’s get outta here.”  You three turned to leave as Elijah said something to Connor as he turned back to look at Kamski and he stopped walking

By the way, I always leave an emergency exit in my programs. You never know.” Connor caught up with you guys outside.

Why didn’t you shoot me, Connor?” You asked as you looked at the android.

I don’t know, why I didn’t shoot you, Y/N. I just saw the fear in your eyes and I couldn’t that’s all.”

You’re always saying you would do anything to accomplish your mission.” Hank said as he looked at Connor. “That was our chance to learn something, and you let it go.” Connor who you knew was a machine seem to be angry at Hank as he spoke

Yeah, I know what I should’ve done! I told you I couldn’t. I’m sorry! Okay?

Maybe you did the right thing.” Hank said as he escorted you down to his car as Connor paused as he was still puzzled about what or who you are. Connor then turned to  me and asked me a question that I had be dreading since I realized  where we were heading.

Y/N, what happened to you. I scanned a photo of you, Elijah and his mentor and it said you died  the same day as Amanda Stern.”  I let out sigh.

Let’s head back to the precinct and I’ll tell you what happened.”

~***~

We were sitting in an interrogation room as I looked at the duo.

You see, I was working on a couple projects for Elijah. One was, you Connor and the other was to see if we could repurpose Biocomponents to be used as prosthetic for our solider and people who lost their limbs due to saving them or medical reason.” I looked at the two. “The day that I ‘died,’ I was approached by a man named Alena Andronikov, a man of Russian descent because I had created a way to combine blue blood and human blood to make my prosthetic work.” I let out a sigh as I took a deep breath as Hank took notes in a notebook

He was trying to get me to sell the information on my work to Russia and I refused. He then set off a bomb and I was in the epicenter of the explosion and I ended in a coma. I was considered dead, but Elijah didn’t want me to die not right after our mentor did. So, he spent many months building me a new body using the idea of my prosthetic for an android body. He was somehow able to transferred my mind into the body. I don’t know how he did it, but he did.”

[loulougoingsolo]

My thoughts on Rhett’s story

Rhett telling the story of his spiritual journey made me feel more than I thought was possible for me, and this post is my attempt to put my feelings to words. I don’t know if any of what I wrote under the break makes any sense, but if you’re interested, go ahead and click through. Just in case, TW: religion and TW: mental health, although I didn’t really go into anything specific.

And because my text is a bit of a mess, if it leaves you with thoughts or questions, I’m open for discussion. Right now I feel like there is a bouncy ball going randomly around in my brain, and I need to spend the rest of this day in trying to make it stop.

I spent most of my 60 minute therapy session yesterday talking about all the things Rhett’s story on Ear Biscuits made me feel and think. I’ve been in a bit of a loop all week, trying to figure out why I felt so much. I’ve never really been able to believe in a god or a higher power, yet hearing Rhett tell about how painful his process of losing faith was, made me feel his pain, and somehow my own, and it confused the heck out of me.

I planned to write a more comprehensive commentary post about this Ear Biscuit, but every time I’ve started, my emotions have taken over me, and I had to skip the original idea of including the links to the books Rhett mentions. Instead of being factual, logical and scientific about this, I’m just going to explain how I felt, why I felt it, and what I think about all this.

So, I’m not religious. Most times, everything outside of logic confuses me. I want to know facts, and base all my decisions on the real things, and that’s just the way I am. I have serious trust issues in my everyday life, but in a way, also when it comes to spirituality. I also have serious issues with maintaining control, and the thought of losing this control freaks me out – in small things and major, life-changing things. Losing control feels like someone suddenly pulls the rug from under my feet, and I fall from an airplane without a parachute. Or as if I was first sitting safely in a boat, but suddenly, I was dropped into the ocean in the middle of open water, with nothing to hold on to, and no solid ground beneath my feet. At this point, if you’ve listened to Rhett’s story, jumping from a boat to water is how he described the moment he realized he could no longer believe in the god he had believed in for his entire life.

Rhett’s religion was based on the bible, and on a complete trust in god and Jesus. His faith was what provided him security, happiness, way of living and a path to follow. He had everything figured out, and all he needed to do was follow this path. There is such security in knowing what you are supposed to do.

I wasn’t raised to believe in god. I believed, and still do, in science and knowledge. At around the same time as when Rhett decided to pursue a path as being a missionary, and saving the souls of non-believers, I was absolutely certain that I had a similar path all paved and ready. I was going to be a science-woman, I  was studying environmental biology in the university, and was driven by my desire to save the world. I had found my passion for environmental work as a teenager, and everything in my life was directing me to this path.

Rhett had to really push himself over the years to be able to ignore his doubts. He wanted to believe, because his faith was the basis for his entire being. When he finally couldn’t erase all of his doubts, he suddenly had nothing to believe in – and even though he says multiple times he wasn’t traumatized by anything in the church, he most certainly experienced massive trauma when he had to let go of it all. He didn’t choose to lose faith, yet he did, and losing everything you believe in is traumatic.

Not believing in higher powers, and having all the trust issues I have, I’ve ever only been able to believe in myself. Too bad, it turned out around when I was 23, that I wasn’t quite as trustworthy as I believed myself to be. I’ve been socially awkward, anxious and a perfectionist for as long as I can remember, and because of my anxieties, I didn’t ever really get close to other people. I survived through high school and childhood mostly by being pretty smart and just clueless enough to actually realize if someone tried to bully me. I knew I never really had very good friends like the other kids, but I was an introvert, and perfectly happy on my own – and it was my fortune that I grew up in a small community, and went to school with the same kids from kindergarten to end of high school. Life was stable and safe. Too bad, it didn’t really prepare me for the big world, and when life got too complicated for me to handle, I lost faith in myself and was left with nothing.

I tried to be what I expected myself to be, and what I assumed my parents, the society, my high school teachers and everyone around me expected me to be. At 23, I couldn’t return to my university classes after the summer break, and I was in the deepest personal crisis I have ever been. I felt like a failure, and I felt I could never again face anyone I knew, because I had let them and myself down. I sought help, went to therapy, and at one point, realized that the path I assumed I would follow wasn’t for me. I had to tell my family I wouldn’t be going back to university. I had to accept that I couldn’t control all of my feelings with logic, and thus lost the foundation to my existence.

It took me quite a few years of therapy and rebuilding myself to get to where I’m at today. First, I found my joy of making art – something that the science life had almost successfully deleted from my life. I went to study jewellery making, and slowly started to believe in myself again – only to experience quite a few relapses along the way. Despite finding a new path in my life in doing art and making jewellery, I still had to come to grips with the fact that I was on the asexual spectrum, and bisexual, and I’m currently, with the help of my therapist and psychiatrist, figuring out if some of my lifelong problems might be based on being neurodiverse (I’ve been going to tests for this for a while now). All of this has forced me to accept that I can’t control my life quite as much as I’d like, and I’m still trying to find a balance between the logical and the emotional parts of what makes me, me. I feel so much more whole now than back 20 years ago, even though there are so many things I can’t know for sure.

Rhett had to rebuild his belief system, and re-evaluate what his core values in life were. He has gone through the painful process of telling his loved ones that he no longer believes the things they still believe, and he basically had to rebuild his marriage from a different perspective – and by the sounds of it, he and Jessie are now in a good place in their relationship.

What struck me most about listening to Rhett’s story is that despite him starting out as a devoted Christian, and me starting out as more than anything, a religiously scientific, somehow, in 40+ years, we’ve somehow come to many of the same conclusions, and despite the obvious differences, we have a lot in common. We both lost the foundation to our lives and had to rebuild ourselves on firmer ground.

I wouldn’t describe myself a hopeful agnostic, but I have to admit there are so many things in this universe I can’t fully comprehend, and even though I can’t believe in a higher power, I feel connected to everything in this world through nature. Thinking about the universe, I’ve understood that the human existence is such a tiny fraction of everything that sometimes it feels absurd how much time and effort our species has spent trying to explain it all. In the end, all religions are attempts to explain the things we don’t know for a fact, and what we believe is only the result of the culture we’ve grown up in. In the grand scheme of things, we are friggin’ small.

I need to end this (probably very incoherent) post before I get sucked into the loop again – but I also have to get this posted so I can get it out of my system. I think Rhett’s current philosophy of living his life the best way he can, and focusing on this one life he can be certain of instead of worrying too much about what happens after he’s dead, is a pretty good idea. In my own life, I’ll continue on my path of learning to accept myself with flaws and all, and instead of trying to fit into a specific box of any kind, I’ll focus on shaping my own kind of container. I still struggle with accepting that not everything can be controlled, but sometimes losing control can create something pretty amazing. I kind of lost the control of my emotions while listening to Rhett’s story, but after almost a week of processing everything his words brought to surface in me, I am grateful for him sharing his story. I’ve never felt more proud for being a Mythical Beast – being a part of this community has enrichened my life more than words can express.

#ear biscuits #Rhett's spiritual journey #ear biscuit 226 #my thoughts #tw: religion #tw: mental health #rhett and link