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give-your-name-away · 3 years

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Hunger Games Name Analysis

I remember when I was in middle school I was obsessed with the Hunger Games. I only ever had the first book, but I read it over and over again until it's pages were completely warned out. I didn't care about the romance, but I was hooked by everything else. The games were what drew me in, but the world building is what got me hooked. I could tell very easily how different all the districts were and how the capitol kept them under control. I could see how cruel the country was, but everyone lived with it because they had no other choice. It was fascinating to me.

The Hunger Games is actually what started my love for names in the first place, and there is a very good reason for it. Suzanne Collins was very clever with how she used names in her world building and it shows. It helps fleshes out her world and her districts in a very fascinating and unique way.

It took me a while to put my finger on how exactly she does this, but once I did I found it even more fascinating. The key is she didn't look at her world as a monolith. This sounds obvious, but when it comes to the small things like names it's easy to overlook. Collins did not make this mistake, and in turn each district has their own rules for naming their children.

(If you want to read this on AO3 then the link is here https://archiveofourown.org/works/32092420)

District 12: This is one of the districts we see the most of, as it's the home of the main character, Katniss. Some of the names used are Katniss, Primrose, Peeta, Gale, Haymitch, Lucy Grey, Leevy, Posy, and Thom. These are some of the more down to earth names in the universe, and most of them seem familiar, if not a little altered. Peeta seems to be a variant of Peter, Haymitch a variant of Hamish. Leevy could either be decended from Levi or Livy. The names evolved from modern names, which makes sense considering how long in the future it is. In District 12 you either name your children already known names, or names based on nature. (Katniss, Gale, Primrose, Posy, ect) and even some of the natural names change through time. One example is Thom instead of Thorn, or it could be a variation of Thomas.

The thing that is interesting about district twelve is people aren't getting 'creative' with spellings or variants, at least not on purpose. They're naming their children off of things they already know, which is what happened before people had access to things like internet or other cultures to mingle with. District 12 is very isolated, so they use names they already know, names that are familiar even to us. People are also struggling to get by, so they don’t spend much time getting creative.

Capital: The next location we go to is the Capital, and we spend quite a long time there. Some of the names we run into are Coriolanus, Effie, Cinna, Diana, Tigris, Arachne, Seneca, Caesar, Messalla, Octavia, Venia, Urban, and Portia. Most English speakers have somewhat of a familiarity with these names, though more from stories than from people in real life. There seem to be three different categories of names. Names that are descended from Greek names like Effie, Arachne, Portia, Caesar, and Cinna are good examples. There are Roman names like Coriolanus, Diana, Seneca, and Octavia are good examples.

Finally there are the noun names, or noun variant names. They’re not nearly as common it seems, but Tigris and Urban are good examples. They break the rule of exclusively Roman and Greek names which is a good way not to make the Capitol seem like a monolith.

District One: District One names are extremely distinted, and it’s hard not to notice how odd they seem from the beginning, when Katniss mentioned that the district one female was named Glimmer. Other names include Velvereen, Facet, Augustus, Glimmer, Marvel, Cashmere, and Gloss. We don’t have a wide variety of names but the ones we do have are very telling.

There are fabric names like Cashmere, Facet and velvereen, a variant of velveteen. Adjective names are pretty common too. These seem odd to us, but I find them akin to virtue names.

There is an oddball name there, Augustus. It is a Roman name that seems to fit in with the capitol. This could be reminiscent of name trends changing quickly in such an affluent district as he was the victor in the 67th hunger games, or it could just show the closeness between Distinct One and the Capital, to the point that even the baby names are influenced.

District Two: District two names are also distinct, but it’s harder to place exactly why. Some of them are Cato, Clove, Brutus, Enobaria, Lyme, Cray, Romulus, Pugnax, Sejanus, Marcus and Sabyn. As we can clearly see, most of these are Roman. Cato, Brutus, Enobaria, Romulus, Pugnax, Sejanus, and Marcus. Unlike the capital there don’t seem to be any Greek names.

However there are some odd names in the mix. Clove, Lyme, Cray, and Sabyn. They are quite hard to place. Some are real names, but their meanings don’t fit with the district, so I believe Suzanne Collins took the same route as she did in District three (More information below) where she took career related words and altered them enough just to be unrecognizable. After all District two’s official purpose is masonry.

Clove is the present tense of the term Cleave. Lyme is most likely a variant on the word Lye, as the only other thing I could find was the disease, which seems unlikely. Cray could either be the English name that already exists, or a variant of clay.

Sabyn is a bit harder to place, but it seems to be a variant of Sabine, which was a term for people who lived in Rome. It’s not of Roman origin, but it still fits.

District Three: There are only four names to draw from in district three. Beetee, Wiress, Circ, and Teslee. The pattern here is very easy to decipher. They seem to be district career related names, but changed somewhat. Unlike district one names that name their children directly after verbs and nouns very purposefully, district three names are slightly more subtle.

Beetee seems to be based off of the brand name BT. Wiress is clearly based off of Wireless. Circ is a shortened version of Circuit, and Teslee seems to be a variant on Tesla. It’s unlikely that the brands Tesla and BT are still around. They probably just morphed into the language, with the citizens of district three not knowing where they came from, similar to how most people don’t know where names like ‘Mary’ or ‘Zoe’ came from. I’m unsure if Circ and Wiress follow this same pattern, as circuits and wireless seem like they should still exist in the world, but it doesn’t seem purposeful.

District four: District four has much more interesting naming conventions with the names of Mags, Finnick, Annie, Coral, and Mizzen. They seem a little odd, but downright normal.

Coral and Mizzen seem to be the only names that are fishing or water related. Mizzen is the mast in front of a ship's main mast, and Coral is coral. Even then Coral is a perfectly common name in English, so these conventions don’t seem too related to the career of district four.

However Mags is a variant of Margaret, which means pearl. Finnick means marshland, which is a type of wetlands.

Annie does not have a water related name, simply meaning grace. However the existence of both the names Annie and Mags seems to show that it’s common for district four to use nicknames as full names. That itself is not uncommon with how much time had passed, but it is interesting to point out.

District five: While Foxface is from this district ‘Foxface’ is not her real name, so she doesn’t count. There are theories about her real name, but nothing canonical, so I’m not including her. This is a shame because we only have three names to work with. Hy, Sol, and Porter.

The names are very short compared to the other districts. However they also directly relate to the district’s industry of power. While I find this debatable myself Hy seems to be related to Hydraulic power. A little more obvious is Sol being related to Solar power. Porter seems slightly different, named after a porter cable instead of a direct power source.

There isn’t a lot known about this district, so it’s hard to analyze much further.

District Six: Everything about district six is vague. Even it’s industry, which is transportation, isn’t very specific, and there isn’t much to analyze. The names we have are Otto, Ginnee, and Titus.

Names seem to be unrelated to the industry, similar to twelve. Furthermore, similar to twelve the names seem to be alterations on well known names. Otto is just Otto, but Ginnee is a variant on Ginny.

Titus is a bit more complicated. It is a Roman name, like the capitol and the second district. This could mean a lot of things. I find it rather likely that do to their purpose as transportation they have the ability to leave, even if only occasionally, and unlike other districts can absorb certain facets of culture like baby names from outside their district. Of course with such a small sample size this is just a theory.

District Seven: District seven is the lumber district, and the names appear to be very reflective of that, though not in the obvious way. If someone were to think of lumber inspired names they’d probably come up with things like Willow, Oak, Leaf, and Ash, or something obvious. Instead we have Treech, Lamina, Johanna, and Blight.

You really have to look into the meanings, but once you do the implications become clear. Treech is a variant on the word tree. Lamina is the blade of a leaf. Blight is a disease that commonly affects trees and plants, which I find it odd to name your kid after, but it still fits.

Johanna isn’t related to trees in any way, instead it is a common English name. It makes sense for English names to still exist, considering that it takes place in what used to be America. Plus it isn’t the only example of this, as Annie from district four’s name also works like this.

District Eight: We actually have a good sample size from district eight, the district in charge of textiles, despite it being a rather minor district in the story. Bonnie, Bobbin, Cecelia, Woof, Twill, Paylor, and Wovey.

As we see with Bonnie, Cecelia, and Paylor the default names seem to be of European origin rather than Roman origin the further the districts are from the capitol. While I don’t believe this is purposeful I don’t believe it’s entirely accidental. With how far they are from the capitol it makes sense that there wouldn’t be much influence, but on the other hand it also makes sense that the little influence there is wouldn’t be purposefully emulated due to the hatred of the capitol.

The other names seem to be industry related as well. Bobbin is a small tool used in a sewing machine. Woof are the crosswise threads in woven fabric. Twill is a type of fabric weave, and Wovey is from the word wove, the past tense of weave.

Bonnie could either be a normal English name, or a variant of the name Bobbin. Variant names are extremely common, and it’s quite natural that they could develop.

District Nine: District nine is the district of grain, and along with ten we know the least about these two districts. We only have two names to draw from, Panlo and Sheaf, but they are both related to grain.

Sheaf is related directly, as sheaf is the term for when grain is tied together. Panlo is indirectly related, as it is based on the latin word for bread, panis.

District Ten: District ten is the livestock district, but their names don’t seem as related to their industry as the others are. Though we only have three data points to draw from. Brandy, Dalton, and Tanner.

Tanner seems to be the only one directly related to livestock, as Tanner is a career of tanning animal hides.

Brandy is a type of alcoholic drink, and it’s also already a name. Same as Dalton, which means settlement in the valley.

Unlike the other districts all three of these names are actual names used in modern day life. And unlike other districts with common English names these have a distinctly more modern feel to them.

District Eleven: District eleven names are a personal favorite of mine, though I may be slightly biased because of Rue, my favorite character. We have a decent pool to draw from. Rue, Thresh, Chaff, Seeder, Reaper, Martin, and Dill.

I like the symbolism of Rue. The word Rue in english means regret, however it is also a type of flowering plant. Thresh is either named after the method for separating grain from a plant, or the thrush bird. Chaff is the word for a corn husk separated from the corn. A seeder is a type of tool for seeding the ground. Reaper doesn’t mean grim reaper, instead it’s the term for someone who uses a scythe to reap grain. Dill is also a type of herb.

Martin doesn’t relate to the other names, and seems to fall into the ‘leftover English names’ category that seems to exist in all districts.

District Thirteen: District thirteen is an interesting one. They don’t have an industry, not anymore at least, nor do they have any ties to other districts that could influence their names. We have Alma, Boggs, Homes, Mitchell, Jackson, and York.

The interesting thing about these names is that they’re all surnames. Some can be first names like Jackson and Mitchell, but even those ones originate from surnames.

There has been a trend in recent years of parents using surnames as first names. A few examples of this are Sawyer, Taylor, Sutton, Carter, and Madison.

I’m not entirely sure why this trend developed, but I do have a few theories. District thirteen is very strict and militaristic. In such an environment it’s pretty common to refer to people by their surnames, so it makes sense that surnames would start to leak into first names.

Another theory is that referring to someone by their surname was a sign of respect in district 13, similar to how it is in the real world. It’s possible that either consciously or subconsciously parents started using surnames as first names to bring their children prestige. This happens in real life two. One of the most prevalent examples is parents giving their daughters either masculine or male names in hopes that it would help them in the workforce. Of course in district 13 it seems far more widespread than in real life, but unlike real life district 13 has a noticeable lack of outside influences that could provide a more diverse culture.

Although at the end district 13 was taking in refugees from other districts due to their lack of fertility. Their seemed to be people from multiple districts. There was 10% of the population from 12, at least one boy mentioned from 10 and most likely more, quite a few people from the capital, and while it’s only mentioned that two people tried to get there from 8 and failed it wouldn’t be unlikely to assume that there were a few that succeeded in coming to 13. In the future of the universe it would be interesting to see how this would effect naming culture and the development of new names.

#hunger games #the hunger games #district 12 #district 1 #district 2 #the capitol #name analysis

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everlarkficexchange · 3 years

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The Archer and The Wrestler.

Written by: @thegirlfromoverthepond

Prompt 90: The Olympic committee is selling sponsorships and heavily advertising the upcoming games. The most photogenic of each sport is asked to pose for pics and attend functions, film commercial together, do some interviews. What sports represented by Katniss, Peeta, others? Required to look cozy? Animosity behind those smiles? Competitiveness? Banter? Any secrets? Do they have a “breakfast club” ending? by @567inpanem

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Summary: Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark meet in the office of Trinket Advertising, where they have to shoot pictures for sponsors.

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Thank you @567inpanem for the prompt ! I had fun writing it :) PLus I could place it in my country which is always a plus. I hope you won’t be disappointed …

My deepest thanks to @sunsetsrmydreams for pre reading and betaing.

To @xerxia31 and @javistg thank you for hosting such a nice event … and So sorry for the delay !

__________________

I should be practicing, she thought, instead of pacing the long, white, corridor of Trinket Advertising.

Katniss still had a ton to do for the Games. Be sure to be fit, to be healthy, to be accurate. To shoot straight.

She really didn’t want to spend her afternoon waiting for some photographer to ask her to act natural in front of a camera. But she was just glad she didn’t have to shoot with someone from the team, as she was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to focus with the constant bickering between Johana and Gale or how Haymitch, their trainer, would “Sweetheart” this or that.

Still no clue as to why she had been picked to be the representative of her sport for the sponsors and advertising. She wasn’t really sure she knew what it entailed, how much time she would spend parading around the media instead of practicing. She knew archery wasn’t such a popular sport in the States, preventing her from spending huge amounts of time in talk shows, or interviews.

Plus, seeing the recognition made Prim, her sister, so proud and happy, Katniss hadn’t been able to turn down the offer when it came.

“Kathy Everdeen? You’re up next.” The assistant’s piercing voice echoed in the long corridor. Katniss closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to not correct the woman.

“Welcome to the Strange Name That Can’t Be Taken Seriously Club.” Another voice, male this time, made her open her eyes.

In front of her was a man of around her age, wearing the male version of the US Olympics shirt she had on..

Only his was stretched across his broad frame, where she was glad hers was loose around her lean body.

He extended his hand.

“Peeta Mellark. Wrestling. Founding member of the club.” She stared at his hand, before moving a step forward to shake it. “You’re the archer ? Katniss right?”

She stopped mid-movement. How could he know her name ?

“I saw your name on the list, so I figured you’d be next ?” He said, almost shyly, as if he had offended her, or invaded her privacy.

She saw the movement of his hand, that she had left unshaken, going to his hair, his fingers raking through his mane of curls.

He had done nothing wrong, she realized, just tried to clear the air. She took a breath, before extending her own hand in front of her.

“Yeah, I’m Katniss. Archery. How much is the subscription to the club?”

He laughed, before shaking her hand.

“How about tea after you’re done ?”

“Too bad I only drink coffee … but I guess if you can wait a bit, that’s doable.” Katniss almost smiled when Peeta started to laugh.

“Oh my goodness, I have a genius idea !” A voice froze their handshaking. “We are going to do pair shootings! Mix the sports together, along with the portraits. It’s going to be legendary !”

A woman with very pink hair matching her very pink outfit stood in the entrance leading towards the studio. As soon as she stopped talking, a flock of what Katniss could only think were assistants came in view, all clapping their hands or praising the Pink Lady.

“Effie, this is another grand idea! We should start right now with these two!” The woman that had misspelled Katniss’ name said, “as they are both here.”

“What are you waiting for, Octavia, take her to make-up right now! I need to call Plutarch, I am having a ton of ideas ! Hush hush, now come on, quickly!”

Katniss saw the assistants moving as one, starting to circle her and Peeta, moving them forward inside the studio, where a couple were checking their cameras and the large umbrellas reflecting the lights.

“Cinna, Portia, I had an epiphany!” The Pink Lady walked towards the couple as quickly as her pencil dress and very high heels allowed her, while Katniss was ushered to the make-up table. She noticed that Peeta was following right behind her, with the other half of the assistants. She met his gaze, saw him shrug before he was taken to another table, shielded from her view by the different makeup and hair artists around them.

“We’ll start with you, Kathy!” Octavia said a few minutes later. Katniss took another deep breath, calming her temper. In just a few minutes, she’ll be gone. Archery wasn’t high on the list of sponsors, nobody cared about them, but for the bow and arrows brands.

Katniss didn’t have time to muse as the sound of Octavia’s heels on the tiling started again. She rose from the chair, following the young woman towards a dressing cabin.

“You’ll find your uniform inside. You’re a S, right?”

“How do you know?” Katniss asked, surprised that the woman guessed correctly.

“I have an eye for that. Plus, it’s written on your card.”

She repressed another eyeroll, trying to keep in mind that Octavia was only doing her job, before she entered the dressing cabin.

White pants, blue polo lined with red, and a white undershirt to protect her arms. The standard equipment.

Yet, it was something to see it, to realize she would represent her country in the most important tournament there could be, that she had achieved one of her goals. To be an Olympian.

She took the polo, turning it slowly, almost afraid to read what was on the back.

Everdeen.

Her father’s name, embroidered in the cotton of the shirt.

Pride rushed through her veins as her fingers traced the letters.

“I did it, Papa. I’m going to the Olympics.”

______________________

It was now official. She hated photoshoots. First, because it was taking an awful lot of time, then because you had to smile. All.the.time. That Katniss hasn’t screamed yet or ran off the door was entirely due to her willpower gained from years of training.

The photographer, Cinna, wasn’t a talker. He was taking his time to snap picture after picture, never acknowledging Octavia or Effie’s advice for her to smile this way, or that way. Because there was apparently a way to smile properly.

She could feel her anger rise with each passing minute, the incessant chatter of the women, the silence of the photographer, the heat from the spotlights, the wind from the huge fans, the itching from the label of the polo on her neck…

“I think it’s time to pair them up.” The photographer’s voice calmly said, silencing the two women.

From being Effie and Octavia, Peeta made his way towards the scene where Katniss was standing.

Before anyone could say a thing, Cinna turned to Effie and his assistant.

“Ladies, can you please check if we have athletes that can be paired tomorrow too? I’m sorry to ask in such short notice, but I think Effie’s idea is something we have to work on.. of course it will mean you change all the schedules..”

“Oh, my, Cinna, but yes, of course! If you think so ? But will you be able to manage with these two?” Effie Trinket asked. Katniss could feel the sharpness of her gaze as the older woman looked at her.

“If there is the slightest problem, I’ll make sure Portia comes to get you.”

“Yes, please. Because if we can manage to pair Brutus and Enobaria, we might be on something, right?”

“Right.” Cinna nodded, before moving towards his material, his back to Katniss as he rummaged through his material.

She looked at her partner in the photoshoot, who seemed as lost as she was. He kept running his hand in his mane of blond hair, before shoving them in his pockets. Seconds after, he was doing the same movements again. She realized she was doing the same, undoing the end of her braid before redoing it, over and over again.

She really couldn’t wait to be out of the studio.

“Will you two stand back to back, please?” Cinna’s voice startled her, even though it was barely over a whisper. “Portia, can you please close the door?”

That’s when she realized how silent the place was without Effie and Octavia. Without their neverending chatter, their disapproving tongue clicks, or their exaggerated sighs.

It almost felt … good.

Almost.

She started to move then, turning her back to Peeta, before crossing her eyes, hoping he would take the hint to do the same. The sooner they were done, the better. She had her bow waiting for her, after all.

She felt the fabric of Peeta’s polo on her arm, yet, never his weight on her back.

She looked at Cinna, who nodded approvingly, before starting to take pictures.

“Should we smile?” She heard Peeta’s deep voice right behind her, asking the question she didn’t dare ask.

“Do what you want, don’t mind me.” the photographer answered behind his material.

“What we want?” Katniss echoed, unsure she had heard correctly. The previous hour had been filled with recommendations on what to do, on poses to take, on how to smile …

Cinna lowered his camera.

“I’m not Effie. Beauty is everywhere, it doesn’t have to be faked by poses or false smiles. Just do what you two want.” He shrugged before checking something on his camera. “I’ll need a few minutes to fix this, try to relax.”

Katniss turned to her partner in shooting, to realize he had already moved and was facing her.

“You told me you were a coffee girl, right?”

“Yup. Black, no sugar.”

“I don’t take sugar in my tea, either. See we have something in common.” Peeta put his hands high. “Oh, no high five ? We’re not close enough yet.”

“Definitely not, singlet boy.”

“Ouch, that hurts. Know, Miss Everdeen, that a lot of women find that uniform .. appealing.” He raised his eyebrows, wiggling them explicitly.

“I bet they do. The main question is, do you have to shave your torso, so your opponent won’t have the opportunity to pull at your chest hair ?”

Katniss didn’t know what came to her to ask such a question. It was like Peeta made it easy for her to talk, when she usually wasn’t famous for speaking or making her voice heard without shouting.

It was like he had a calm, soothing temper, like a lazy river, ready to cover the fire that was in her.

Maybe they made a good pair.

“Yeah, the worst is the wax under the armpit.” He deadpanned, not even letting a smile on his face.

She could totally imagine him taken down to “Beauty Base Zero” as the woman at the beauty parlor had told her the only time she went there. It included all sorts of treatments, each worse than the others. She even told her sister to not gift her with that kind of torture anymore.

“Ouch.. I hope your girlfriend covers you in aloe after that …”

Katniss knew she wasn’t the most girly woman around, yet she sometimes put on mascara or had her legs waxed from time to time, mostly for competitions when she had decided to wear the short-skirts or the long bermudas.

“Well, meet Hanna, my girlfriend.” Peeta said casually, showing his right hand, wiggling his eyebrows - again.

It took Katniss a few seconds to catch up on the double-entendre.

“Oh, my, you’re disgusting!” Her words couldn’t completely hide her smile. There was something to this man that somehow made her want to talk, to speak, to even trust him.

“I bunked with Finnick Odair at the Youth Olympic Games. That was disgusting! He shaves himself ! the room was full of his hair!”

“Well, you could have collected them before putting them on Ebay. You’d be rich by now.”

“I should have, yes. Dam, why didn’t I know you back then to give me good advice!”

“I wasn’t at the YOG.”

“I know, I would have noticed you.”

She looked at him, with questions in her mind. His eyes were blue, so clear nothing was shadowing them, she was left without words.

Click.

—-

Katniss couldn’t believe she was at the Olympics. In Paris, France. That her childhood dream of bringing a golden medal home was nothing but a few arrows away. A lot of stress, too. She raised her bow, lining the target with her eye, throwing a quick glance to the small flags lining the area to check the wind, took a deep breath, before letting go of the arrow.

She knew right away that it would miss the center of the target. A breath of hair on the right, still not enough to get full marks. She had underestimated the wind on this large, open area that the Esplanade des Invalides was.

“Not too bad.” She jumped at the voice behind her. Maybe some kind of volunteer that had been allowed inside the arenas for training. She needed to focus on the target, on the little golden area that would make her mark a ten in the competition.

She took another arrow from the quiver on her left hip, slid it in the bow, looked at the wind, took a deep breath, lifted her weapon, aimed at the target. With the next exhalation of air, she let go of the arrow, knowing right away it would hit the center.

She had never been able to explain how she knew, each and every time how her arrow would behave. It was a feeling, a sensation, deep inside of her.

Thunk !

She looked at the target, saw that indeed the arrow was in the yellow area. She almost let a smile show on her mouth, when the same voice distrubed her again.

“You might win if you shoot like that.”

Katniss closed her eyes, letting a sigh escape before turning to face whoever decided to disturb her training.

“Peeta!” She felt a smile forming on her face. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugged. “I was practising, then decided to go for a walk. It’s Paris after all!”

“Here?” Katniss was pretty sure she hadn’t seen any other sport on the green grass in front of the Invalides.

“Oh, not here here, over there!” Peeta turned, his right hand moving over his shoulder, showing the Eiffel Tower. “Wrestling is on the Champ de Mars, at the feet of the tower”

“Really? You’ll have to tell me when you’re in the tournament. So I can come and see you.”

Peeta’s hand went to his head, his fingers raking through his mane of golden curls.

“You’re sure ? If the press sees you there….”

“I’ll tell them I came to support a friend.”

“But you know how the paparazzi are …”

“We’re in France, not the US, nobody cares about archery or wrestling - no offense intended.”

“None taken.”

Peeta looked around, before coming closer to the barriers surrounding the archery arena, then leaning slightly on them, giving Katniss the opportunity to see the muscles in his forearms. She wondered briefly if he already had his waxing treatment.

“Something on your mind, Everdeen?”

Who was he again? A mind-reader ? She quickly turned her eyes from his arms, not lingering on the broad expense of his chest, or how bright his eyes were.

“Yup. I have to finish training if I don’t want to look too ridiculous when the competition starts.”

“What do you say we try one of these cafés when you’re done?” he casually asked. Katniss could see something in his eyes - was it hope ?

Damn, was he playing unfair by throwing coffee into the mix. As if she was known to refuse a cup.

“I still have a few minutes of practice, maybe a raincheck?”

He shrugged, before looking around. “I’m in no rush. I can wait. Patience is a virtue, young grasshopper.”

She nodded, before taking another arrow out of her quirrel.

“Yes, Sensei.”

The arrow hit the center of the target.

———————–

Katniss knew she shouldn’t be there. Not that she didn’t want to, but after pictures of her and Peeta laughing in a small café had hit the stands, her phone hadn’t stopped beeping, demanding a confirmation if there was something going on between the two of them. That, perhaps, all the rumors that had been born after the photoshoot with Cinna, were not rumors at all.

Effie Trinket was, of course, delighted. Jo wouldn’t stop asking about LoverBoy, Gale was threatening to beat the shit out of Peeta (Katniss was almost ready to let him try to do that), and Haymitch kept on asking her if her little romance would damage her results in the field.

Everything was peachy.

Yet, she couldn’t find it in her to regret the time she had spent with Peeta. She couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed so much, that she had been able to confide to someone as she had done with him, how he had been open to her too. Like two old friends rekindling a friendship after spending years apart.

Friends they could have been, they had realized when discussing their native places. They had grown up about a hundred miles apart, in the same district of West Virginia. They could have crossed paths about a dozen times, sharing memories of the Meadow Park, where they both had spent time, Katniss had even worked there when they were younger.

Sometime during their afternoon chat, a photographer had spotted them, recognized them, and snapped pictures.

That was a trending subject on Twitter minutes later, before someone even created a ship name for them. The hashtag #Everlark trended for more than a day.

Katniss had pushed her phone away, blocked all the numbers she didn’t know, called Peeta to apologize, before focusing solely on her training.

Her perfect plan had crumbled in hours, when Peeta had caught her in the Victor’s Village Cafeteria, explaining how he was sorry for everything, as the idea of coffees had been his.

They had ended up sharing a meal with Gale and Jo, as well as some of Peeta’s teammates, who kept joking about the Everlark hashtag. In a matter of two hours Katniss was laughing with them, the pain of Effie’s scheme forgotten.

That was why she was currently in the corridors of the Arena where Judo and Wrestling competitions were being held. Her own tournament was starting in two days and Katniss would rather watch sports she didn’t understand, then stay in her room, anxiously waiting for her turn to compete.

Maybe it was time for her to play team mate too. She had put on her US Team attire, gotten her accreditations cards, before jumping into one of the buses that led her to the Champ de Mars.

She hadn’t seen Peeta since breakfast the morning before, when she had forgotten to ask him if he was still okay for her to come.

The building was elegantly sitting on the green grass. In the back, she could see the Eiffel Tower, all dressed up in her beauty and dignity.

In a few minutes she had found the hall with the wrestlers, and a seat in the ranks reserved for athletes. She recognized Thom and Thresh, two of Peeta’s teammates, who waved at her. She talked to them for a few minutes, learning their categories were competing in the coming days.

“Peeta should be in two matches.” Thresh informed her as she sat on the plastic seat. “He should make it to the quarters easily. After…”

“After?” She asked, unsure what THresh meant.

“After, in the quarters he should face Katø, the Russian. A beast. “

“A beast?”

“Yeah, 164 pounds of malice and nastiness.”

“Charming… Maybe someone will eat this Katø first ?”

Thresh shook his head.

“Na, not with this draw. His first worthy opponent will be Peeta.”

She looked at Thresh, thinking back to the afternoon she had spent with Peeta, remembering what he had told her.

She couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed so much, her cheeks still hurt. They had walked away from the Olympic Archery range, following the banks of the Seine, looking at the amazing monuments, walking by the Musee d’Orsay that Peeta had told her he wanted to visit.

They had crossed the river on a wooden bridge only for pedestrians, walked along the Louvre, until they had found a small café near the Palais Royal where they were still sitting.

“You all have bread names? Why? “

Peeta shrugged, before leaning down a little on the metallic table, as if he was about to confide his deepest secret.

“We own a bakery, back in Panem. Maybe one day, I’ll tell you my real name …”

She laughed, leaning over the table too. She felt bold enough to run her hand on his definitely toned forearm, letting her finger wander up to his shoulder.

She saw the color of his eyes change from crystal blue to a darker shade, heard him take a breath in.

But Katniss was on a mission.

She leaned closer to him, her hand coming closer to his neck, her nimble fingers playing with the collar of his shirt.

She could feel him tense under her touch, and lifted her eyes, to find his locked on her, as if he wanted to get lost in her. It took Katniss a few seconds to return to her task. With a movement of her wrist, she grabbed his accreditation cards, pulling them over his head before leaning back into her seat.

“That’s disappointing, actually. Your name is Mark ? Mark Mellark ?”

“Because your name is really Katniss?”

She put down his accreditations, took hers from around her neck, holding them out to him. He took them with a smirk before looking at the name written on them.

“Your name is really Katniss?”

“Yep. My mom’s Lily, my dad is Alon, and my sister is Primrose. You’re a bread family, we are a plant family.” She snatched the cards from his hands. “ You’re lucky you didn’t bet a thing, Mark Mellark.”

“Don’t call me Mark.” He grumbled, leaning back onto his chair.

“Well, then if you don’t want the world to call you Mark, you know what’s left to do, Mellark!”.

She casually put down his cards on the table, taking her time to lean back too.

“Oh? And that would be, Sensei ?”

“Easy, Grasshopper. Make sure you don’t get a medal.”

“That, Robin Hood, is not an option.”

The steadiness, the certainty of his voice made her shiver. Or maybe it was the wind, coming from large trees nearby. Surely the trees, she thought.

“I mean,” he started “ we all came here for a reason, and it’s not to give someone else our place on the podium. Plus with all the visibility we have this year, we have to give it our best, right?”

She nodded. That was what they had to do, what they had trained for, what they were in France for.

“Katniss?” Thom’s voice took her out of her memories.

“Sorry, I was lost in thoughts.”

“Look down, on the mat. The guy in blue? It’s Katø.”

“That’s a man? He looks like a mountain of muscles …”

“Well, he is a mountain of muscles … “ The referee interrupted Thom’s sentence with the start of the first period. “That won’t take long, he isn’t known for dancing around.”

Katniss watched as the blond man, so different from Peeta rushed into his opponent, pinning him on the mat in a few seconds.

“Told you. That lasted 25 seconds, he won’t be tired for the next round.” Thom said. “Peeta’s next.”

Katniss nodded searching the ground until she spotted him, wearing a red singlet.

“Why is he wearing red ? Blue is a better color for him.” She asked, her eyes trained on the now familiar figure walking towards the mat. Damn, these singlets left little to the imagination. To say they were fit-forming was the understatement of the year. She could see all the lines of Peeta’s muscles moving as he approached the fighting zone.

“Because he’ll be the first one called. It’s the rules.” She turned towards Thresh, who had the biggest smile on his face she’d ever seen him don.

“Why are you smiling?” She was wondering what had been so funny in her words.

“‘Blue is a better color for him’ - you sound like -”

“Be careful, Thresh. She shoots arrows…” Thom interrupted. “Now if you want to see Peeta wrestle, maybe you can look at the mat ?”

With a last threatening glance towards Thresh that was met with another huge smile and air kisses, Katniss turned towards the arena, noticing how different Peeta’s posture was from Katø’s.

“He’s going to tire the Georgian who isn’t as flexible as he is. And as soon as there will be an opening, he’ll go for it.” Thom explained, as she watched the complicated dance of joint locks, takedowns, and other things she had no idea what they were.

“This must be exhausting…” she whispered, as she saw Peeta finally going for the pin, immobilizing his opponent on the mat.

“Well, it’s not crochet that’s for sure!” Thresh chimed into her thoughts as the crowd applauded the winner of the match.

This was going to be a long day.

__________________

She needed to focus, now. Forget she was in the final of the Olympic Archery Tournament. Forget her dream was an arrow away. Forget she needed a nine to win the gold.

She had to remember the wind, how it came lightly from the right to the left, how she needed to bend the trajectory just a little. She had to calm her beating heart.

To forget Peeta was in the stands, watching. Katniss had cheered him on as he won his own gold medal two days ago, but now it was her moment.

She needed to forget.

The way he had chased her when she tried to make a quiet exit.

To forget how they had kissed.

Their own celebration.

She had to clear her mind of all this.

Forget. Focus.

A deep breath.

Visualizing the arrow hitting the center of the target.

The chronometer was ticking. Tick. Tock.

It was her last arrow. Her concurrents had already shot their own.

She needed a nine.

Only twelve seconds remain.

She rose her bow.

Eleven seconds.

Remembered her father’s proud look when she had won her first trophy.

She let the arrow fly.

She knew it would be a ten.

She had won the gold.

She fell to her knees, feeling the tears pooling in her eyes.

“I did it, Papa, I won … I hope you’re proud..”

The applause around her made her lift her head, then stand up, before she ran towards the stands, her bow still in hand, her eyes fixed on a figure that was coming down the stairs, towards her.

She felt his arms around her as he hugged her over the bleachers, felt his hands going to her face as he looked into her eyes.

“You remember to shoot straight, Grasshopper…” he whispered, for the two of them only.

“Yes, Sensei”, she replied before kissing him.

Click.

FIN

#thegirlfromoverthepond #567inpanem #prompt 90 #Springtime Edition 2021 #submission

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loveissupernatural · 4 years

Photo

To Love in a Foreign Land

Draco Malfoy x reader

Chapter One: The Letter

[ Read Part 2 here ]

The day had finally come.

It came in the flurry of an owl’s wings, in the nervous vibration of your sweaty palms.

A delicious breakfast had just been served by your mother that sunny summer morning in suburban America, your fourth term at Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry only recently finished. Loud, impatient tapping on the kitchen window glass made you choke on your coffee.

“Mom! Ch-check if it’s from H-Hogwarts!” you managed to cough, pointing frantically at the window. Your mother bolted out of her chair at the kitchen table so you can recover.

She squealed for you, letting the gorgeous but exhausted-looking owl into your kitchen as quickly as she could. It landed in front of you on the table, holding out its leg with what could only be described as relief. Your shaking hands untied the cream-colored envelope from the owl’s ankle, and as soon as you did, it fluttered to the large cage in the corner of the room. Your silver-grey owl, Cinna, hooted indignantly at the unexpected visitor that was gulping from her water bowl.

“Now, Cinna, be nice. He’s had a long journey,” your mother said, wagging her finger. Cinna would have rolled her eyes if she could.

“Mom,” you squeaked, “this is it, this has to be it. I’m finally gonna know.”

You’d decided halfway through your fourth year at Ilvermorny that you wanted to take part in the International Wizarding Student Exchange Program, or I.W.S.E.P. It was a decision that you didn’t make lightly – you’d discussed it at length with your teachers and with your mom. You loved Ilvermorny with all of your heart and soul, after all, it was your home. But you also knew that the world was much bigger, that there was so much in the wizarding world that you hadn’t seen and hadn’t experienced. As a newly 15 year-old, you felt somehow ready for things to change.

Of course, you didn’t want too much change, which is why Hogwarts was at the top of your list. Ilvermorny was modeled after it, and you didn’t have to worry about a language barrier. Hogwarts contained four houses, just like your school, and was a large castle in the middle of the mountains, just like yours. You were ready to experience new things and new people, in a new (but somewhat similar) place. You had roots there.

The Headmistress of Ilvermorny, Celestia Pukwould, had one final meeting with all prospective exchange students before the end of term. The day exams ended, you and a small group of upcoming fifth years were invited to her large study. She pressed the importance of upholding your school’s good reputation as you traveled, to be a shining example of what it was to learn magic from America’s impressive magical education system. Only one of your peers was requesting Hogwarts as their first choice too, a quiet girl that you hadn’t spoken to much over the years named Eleanor.

After the other potential exchange students left her office, Headmistress Pukwould requested for you and Eleanor to stay behind for a bit.

“Ladies, I have sent an owl to Professor Dumbledore himself expressing my full confidence in you two,” she had said, standing from her ornate high-back chair that sat in front of her fireplace. She twirled her wand between her long fingers absentmindedly, fixing you and Eleanor with a kind yet serious stare. “You two are some of the brightest witches in your class. I told him so. I have known Albus Dumbledore for many years, and he is by far one of the most talented wizards alive today. You would be very lucky to learn magic at his school.”

You and Eleanor nodded profusely, eyes wide. While Headmistress Pukwould was a kind woman, she was also not to be trifled with, and her word backing your acceptance at Hogwarts held much weight.

“Don’t disappoint me, ladies,” she said, the smile fading from her face. She tapped her wand on her nails once, sighed, then turned back to the fireplace. “Have a wonderful summer. Owls containing your acceptance or rejection should arrive to your homes within the next few weeks.” Her tone was final. You were dismissed.

You flashed back to your bright kitchen, took a deep breath and let it back out in a shaking sigh. Your fingers gently traced the refined emerald green writing. You flipped the envelope over and touched the blood-red wax seal, the crest of Hogwarts. Your hands paused.

“Mom, what if I don’t get in?” You’d spoken your greatest fear aloud.

She smiled at you, almost a little sadly, and came to rest a hand on your shoulder and a kiss on your head. “They’d be idiots not to accept you, Y/N.”

“What do you think Dad would say? If they said no?” you all but whispered, a familiar ache rising in the back of your throat. Your father had attended Hogwarts over two decades ago before he moved to America and met your No-Maj mother.

Your mother wrapped her arms around you from behind, pressing her cheek to yours and rocking you gently.

“He would think they’re idiots, too, honey,” she said, a grin in her voice. Your father loved his alma mater, so to imagine him saying anything negative about the school was enough to make you laugh. But you knew she was right, your father had been your biggest fan.

“I miss him,” you said quietly. Your thumb ran over the wax seal again.

“I know, baby. I do too,” she whispered, kissing your cheek. “But he’d be so proud of you, no matter what that letter says. Okay?”

You nodded. You’d lost your father two years ago, but the wound still felt fresh most days. You’d be lying if you said that going to Hogwarts wasn’t an attempt to feel him again, in some form or fashion.

“Here goes nothing,” you breathed, slipping your finger underneath the sturdy paper and ripping it away from the seal. Your heart pounded in your ears like a bass drum as you pulled out the parchment, catching a glimpse of the neat scroll in the same dark green ink. Your mother’s hands tightened on your shoulders.

Dear Miss Y/N Y/L/N,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

All students accepted to our institution through the I.W.S.E.P. (International Wizarding Student Exchange Program) will be required to travel via portkey on the evening of 29 July. Upon arrival to London, arrangements will be made for you to stay in the Leaky Cauldron before gathering your supplies on 30 July. A representative from the school will assist you in procuring the necessary books and equipment for term, beginning 1 September. You will be expected to arrive at King’s Cross Station, Platform 9 ¾, no later than 09:00 AM on 31 July. Bring all necessary luggage and equipment.

You will find an enclosed list of all required literature and materials for Year Five.

We will expect an owl containing your confirmation no later than 20 July. We are honored to invite you into our sacred halls of magical learning.

Yours Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

You lowered the letter, disbelief coursing through your veins. It was real, truly real. You were now officially a Hogwarts student.

After at least a solid 20 minutes of dancing around the kitchen with your mother, you scribbled a quick confirmation and laid it by the feet of the tired Hogwarts owl.

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to leave for another few days,” you said, answering the owl’s accusatory glare. He hooted ruefully and tucked his head underneath his large wing, ignoring Cinna’s still wary stare.

Your mother excused herself from the kitchen shortly after, attempting and failing to hide the proud tears in her eyes. You hugged the Hogwarts letter to your chest, breathing in the scent of the still stiff parchment. Slowly, you walked out to the empty living room and paced to the fireplace mantle that contained family portraits of all shapes and sizes, some moving in their frames and others standing still.

With tears tickling the corner of your eyes, you picked up your favorite picture of you and your dad. You were six years old, missing a tooth and laughing hysterically, while your father conjured glowing butterflies that danced around your head. The glow of his happy smile outshined those butterflies any day, you thought. You gently stroked his smiling face.

“Well, it’s official, Dad,” you whispered, a single tear sliding down your cheek. “I’m going to Hogwarts.”

______________________________________

That summer passed more quickly than you would have ever expected. Your friends from Ilvermorny came to visit as often as possible, taking advantage of every moment they could grab with you before you left for an entire year. Many days were spent wandering nearby cities and towns, No-Maj and magical alike, with your school friends. You ate as many cliché American meals as you could and soaked up every drop of sunshine possible by the pool. You always looked better with a bit of a tan, and you doubted that you’d be getting much strong sun at Hogwarts.

“So, what House do you think you’ll be sorted into?” Eleanor asked you one afternoon. You’d invited her to stay a week with you and your mother in early July. You two would be the only Americans at Hogwarts in the upcoming year, and you both thought that building a friendship with one another would be nothing but beneficial. Being so far from home, you needed to have each other’s backs.

You were both sitting on the edge of the pool, drinking fresh lemonade and dangling your feet in the water. You took a long sip through your brightly colored straw.

“Good question,” you said, staring at the rippling blue water in thought. “I’ve heard rumors of what each house represents, but how true is it really? I mean, we know at Ilvermorny that more than one House can pick you, and that you can make the decision for yourself. Do you ever wonder if people pick the right one? Think it’s like that at Hogwarts?”

“I don’t know,” Eleanor said quietly. She seemed a little nervous at the thought. “What if we don’t get sorted at all? What if we’re too old?”

“I mean, surely that wouldn’t happen,” you tried to say confidently. “They wouldn’t subject us to public sorting if there was a chance of us getting rejected, right? Talk about embarrassing.”

“I’m sure you’ll get sorted,” she said with an admiring tone. “Everyone remembers what happened when you stepped up to the Knot on our first day.”

You remembered that day with a strange and heady combination of pride and trepidation. When you stepped up to the large Gordian Knot engraved into the shining marble floor of the circular sorting chamber, everything changed for you. For the first time in over a decade, all four large wooden carvings came to life, and the room went dead silent. You’d never felt so many eyes on you, boring into the back of your skull, wondering what made you so special and what House you would choose.

The gem set into the head of the Horned Serpent glowed, the Thunderbird beat its large wings, the Wampus roared and the Pukwudgie raised its arrow into the air. The carvings themselves seemed to stare a hole through you.

The four Ilvermorny Houses have been described as each representing a different part of the human being; Horned Serpent represents the mind and favors scholars; Wampus represents the body and favors warriors; Thunderbird represents the soul and favors adventurers; Pukwudgie represents the heart and favors healers.

You were overwhelmed in every sense of the word. At the small and awkward age of 11, you truly didn’t feel that well-rounded. You were certain that, somehow, these magical carvings had made a mistake.

“What made you choose Thunderbird, by the way?” Eleanor asked curiously, breaking you from your reverie.

“Honestly… I’m not totally sure,” you shrugged bashfully. Talking about this always made you uncomfortable. “Thunderbird is supposed to represent the soul, right? I guess I think that everything is rooted in the soul. We wouldn’t be human without them.”

Eleanor had been chosen by Horned Serpent, but nodded in agreement. “I guess that makes sense. I don’t know what I would have done if I were you.” She laughed a bit uneasily. “At least my choice was easy – I didn’t have one.”

In many ways, you found yourself wishing that only one carving had chosen you. Sure, it’s a bit less flattering, but much less stressful. The pressure of being that student, the once-in-a-decade student that was supposed to accomplish amazing things, was almost suffocating. As a child, you had a mountain of expectations piled on top of you from the moment those four carvings came to life. You couldn’t make a mistake.

In your second year, when your father died, so many of those expectations crushed you in a way that they never had before. His death weighed on you more than anything ever had, and the strength of his support was gone and left you breaking underneath the heavy cinderblocks of watchful eyes. Your grades suffered, and so did your relationships. You shut down.

Only when a year passed after your father’s death did you begin to find yourself again. With the help of your understanding teachers and a loving group of friends, you were able to establish a better academic standing within Ilvermorny. Not that anyone held your lapse against you – after all, you were a 12 year-old that had lost a parent. But you were still that kid, the one that all four Houses wanted, and you’d proven that you were far from perfect.

“What House do you want to be in at Hogwarts?” you asked Eleanor. She smiled, quiet in thought as she threw her brown hair into a messy ponytail.

“Really, I’d be happy with anything. But I’ve heard Ravenclaw is similar to Horned Serpent, academically focused and stuff.” She took a gulp of cold lemonade and wiped the sweat from her forehead. “What about you?”

“My dad was a Hufflepuff, so that would be nice I guess. I don’t know. Let’s just hope the Sorting Hat doesn’t explode,” you joked, setting aside your now empty glass. With that, you jumped into the chilly crystal water, letting it soothe your hot skin. Eleanor quickly followed.

You enjoyed the last inklings of summer vacation together before your new adventure began. You talked about missing friends and family, what Hogwarts would be like, whether or not you liked hot tea and what classes you would be taking. True to teen girl form, you were both excited to meet cute guys with foreign accents. And with a mix of thrill and nerves, you both realized that you two would be the foreign ones to them, and hoped that it would play in your favor.

“I wonder if British guys will think American girls are hot?” you asked her after the sun went down. You’d both climbed out of the pool at this point, your sun-kissed skin beginning to prune.

Eleanor laughed. “Geez, I hope so. Could you imagine getting a handsome British boyfriend? Talk about the adventure of a lifetime.”

You couldn’t deny that the thought of kissing a handsome boy with an attractive accent at the top of a castle turret excited you, but your mind always went back to connecting with the spirit of your father. Maybe you could feel closer to him there at Hogwarts, and would a boy distract you from getting that closure? You knew a boy would distract you from schoolwork, and you were determined to make such outstanding grades that Professor Dumbledore would have no choice but to write back to your Headmistress. After the academic crash and burn that was your second year, any and all glowing recommendations were not only welcome, but needed.

“It would be fun,” you giggled, wrapping yourself in your pool towel and squeezing the water out of your hair. “But wouldn’t it kinda suck when it’s all said and done? I mean, what if you got close to someone and then you have to leave to come back here?”

“I didn’t say we had to fall in love,” Eleanor shrugged. “I just want a hot piece of British ass.”

You busted out laughing. Eleanor always seemed so quiet at school, but once she got comfortable with you, she really came out of her shell.

“Come on, girls!” your mother called, sticking her head out of the back patio door. “Dinner is ready. I’ve got your salads on the table.”

You both trotted inside, whispering and giggling about the possibility of a grand foreign romance. After a pleasant dinner with your mother, you both went to bed, smelling of chlorine and sunlight.

Eleanor fell asleep before you did. You laid awake for a while, watching the shadows of swaying tree limbs dance across your ceiling. Your mind wandered back to the possibility of finding romance at Hogwarts. You doubted it would happen for you, especially since your priorities were elsewhere, but it wouldn’t be so bad to just dream about it, right?

You drifted into a deep sleep, flashes of colorful magic and the shadow of a boy dancing through your head.

[ Read Part 2 here ]

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angelicamerlinbarnes · 3 years

Text

TUA HUNGER GAMES AU:

(please understand that by AU, I mean they share an incredibly small amount of things in common with the original source material which I barely remember BUT the “story” takes place in the setting of the books/films) (not to be misleading or anything :p)

(BEWARE: abuse, murder, human experimentation, etc.)

(If you can handle watching Umbrella Academy AND The Hunger Games, this will be fine for you.)

(Katniss) Allison doesn’t want to be here, but she wasn’t just gonna let Ray be taken from her by a stupid punishment meant for her great-grandparents. She resolves to win the Games for Ray, so she can make it back to him and they can start their lives together in a better place. But when she wins, her life is changed in ways she never could’ve anticipated.

(Peeta) Luther won a few years ago. He’s Allison’s age, but lives up in Victor’s Village, hiding from the rest of the District. She’s the only one who’s seen him in years, as she brings him food and supplies from town as one of her jobs. She’s fallen in love with him, and he with her, and when she goes to the Games, Luther begins to work with Ray to find and aid the rebellion, hoping to bring her home alive.

(Gale) Ray has understood the tragedy of the Games far better than most others since he was very little. He was chosen when he was twelve, but his sister volunteered for him and died in the last rounds of the Games. He’s been dreaming of running away ever since, writing his pamphlets and letters in hopes of stirring up a revolution, and when Luther approaches him for help, he thinks it might just finally work. He just hopes he doesn’t lose Allison, who he’s been planning on marrying since the day he met her, now that she’s volunteered for him too. Too many people love him, he thinks, and too much.

(Rue) Claire is a young girl Allison makes friends with during her Games, taking on a motherly role to her. Claire is struck down by another tribute, Patrick, and Allison killed him, but not before Claire is already too far gone. Allison holds her as she dies and joins the revolution, eventually, in her name.

(Prim) Vanya fell in love with Sissy a long time ago. Her husband died in the coal mines, and Vanya has been a nanny and second mother to her adopted son Harlan ever since. When Harlan is chosen, Vanya volunteers in his place, knowing she’ll die. Imagine her surprise when Allison saves her with a scheme about sisterly love.

(Johanna) Lila was one of the younger victors, known for seeming meek and eventually murdering over half her fellow tributes to win. She went mad with grief and rage after the Games, and only Diego, her beloved brother who she volunteered for, could calm her. Eudora is her lover, though they keep it exceptionally quiet, and she’s incredibly close with Five, though they’ll never be self-sacrificial for one another, as it breaks their agreement to respect each other as warriors. Lila’s ready to murder Reginald for what he did to her family - but first she wants to murder the Handler, who’s kept her on a leash for years by threatening Diego’s life.

(Finnick) Eudora is a victor, and the capital’s darling. She’s quite daring and charming, and seeks to help and mentor every tribute she can, not just those from her District. She, Diego, and Lila, a victor she mentored and later her lover, were childhood friends and were all possible contenders for the Games, though Diego never participated despite being Reaped twice because both Eudora and Lila volunteered for him. She considers Diego a brother, and ensures he is safe when his rebellion threatens his life. She is the hero of the revolution, and eventually takes over as President of Umbrellacademy (Panem) after the war is won.

(Snow) Reginald is the President of Umbrellacademy, and is hated by every District. Five has tried multiple times to kill him, but Reginald has escaped his murderous clutches every time. With each attempt, Reginald has locked Five away in a pitch-black room deep beneath the ground for days or weeks on end with only food and water as signs of life. Because of this, Five is distrusting and angry and doesn’t show loyalty to those if he can help it, yet is terrified of being alone. (Five is, however, the one who executes Reginald in the end. Because he goddamn deserves to.)

(Coin / Dr. Gaul) The Handler runs the Commission (District 13), a former District bombed into nothing in the first war. Five became her ally when he won, but soon realized she held nothing but contempt for the people of the Districts just like Reginald, and escaped from her. She keeps a tight grasp on Lila, who she knows was Five’s ally and friend, and works even harder towards her goal of taking over Umbrellacademy and ruling the lands for herself. In the end, Lila kills her when she gives her an ultimatum: choose unfathomable power and riches and kill Five, or choose Five and die by his side. Lila gives her a sad look and plunges her sword into the Handler’s heart wordlessly, gathering Five to her chest.

(Haymitch) Five has been bitter and angry since his victory, which occurred in the first quarter quell. His District chose him overwhelmingly, voting for him to be in the Games because he offered to give up his life for their children by being the tribute, knowing he could win. The trouble came when his fellow tribute Dolores, an unwanted, became his ally and friend, eventually sacrificing herself for him. One of her snakes bit him and the venom made him ageless, so he’s looked thirteen for forty-five years. He helps run the resistance, eventually leading it as the war worsens and they lose more and more people. Because of Dolores, he does not allow anyone to get too close to him, but is kind and loyal to anyone he does choose to hold his favor - Lila, Diego, Klaus, Allison, Luther, Vanya, and Ben. Though he’s gone mad from his traumatic experiences and time alone, he’s still one of Umbrellacademy’s most treasured citizens, and lives celebrated as a war hero by every survivor comes the war’s end.

(Effie) Klaus travelled to the Capitol when he was seventeen after his lover Dave volunteered for him in District 12. Horrified, Klaus followed him as a stowaway on the train, earning Five’s respect and protection. When Dave died, Klaus was devastated, and turned to drinking and partying to drown his woes. He works for the resistance with Five, but keeps his persona so bubbly and aloof nobody would ever suspect him of being even nearly as smart as he is. He’s found ways to manipulate the Capitol’s scientific brilliance for his own tributes’ advantage, once he won his right to be an escort for his District following Dave’s death. He used this knowledge to save one of his tributes, Ben, whom he formed so strong an attachment to they became near-lovers, partners in all but the physical. Klaus faked his death during training and preserved his spirit in the body of a mockingjay, who he keeps as a pet. He is dangerous, but vulnerable - for all his brilliance, Klaus is prone to emotional attachments, and finds himself making careless mistakes when the lives of his loved ones are threatened.

(Cinna) Diego is the fashion designer for District 12, having come to the Capitol with his sister Eudora after she won her Games. They’re both from District 4, but he instead chooses to work for 12, entranced by the District’s escort Klaus from their first meeting. The two fall deeply in love, but only acknowledge it in coded conversations and never touch if they can help it, knowing that to take any risk in revealing their feelings for each other would result in one or both of them being killed by the Capitol as an example. Diego has another sister in Lila, who volunteered for him when he was Reaped a second time, and protects both of them with his life. He is close to Five, who he works with closely when training tributes, and immediately recognizes Allison as the face of their rebellion, risking his life for her in the hopes that she will lead them to a better world where he can finally hold Klaus in his arms.

(Cato) Leonard is a tribute in Allison’s Games. He tries to kill Vanya, which prompts Allison to kill him towards the end of the Games. Though he had very little chance originally due to being from the incredibly poor District 8, he grew in danger with every tribute dead, and was well-known for his manipulative charm that won him many sponsors. Allison’s hatred of him does not stop him from showing himself as a prominent victim in her many traumatic dreams.

Hazel and Cha-Cha are peacekeepers, both of whom have wavering loyalties to the Capitol. Hazel is on the fence because he fell in love with a District 12 marketplace vendor, Agnes, and Cha-Cha has been in touch with the Commission for years, hoping to bring the rebellion to the forefront and finally make a safe home with Hazel that isn’t so structured and merciless. This is made difficult by the fact that the Handler has complete control over them, threatening Agnes’ life if they don’t cooperate, and they’ll both do anything to save her - Hazel because he loves her, and Cha-Cha because she loves Hazel.

Agnes is a woman from District 12 who sells tributes lucky charms. She gave Allison her wolf, and Five his snake, and Klaus his mockingjay, and continues to help her people in whatever way she can, offering them bread and treats in secret whenever she manages to scrounge some from Hazel and Cha-Cha. She’s a prominent figure in the black market, but dies when District 12 is bombed, prompting Hazel and Cha-Cha to begin infiltrating the Peacekeepers from the inside despite the overwhelming risks.

(Lucy Gray) Dolores was Five’s ally and friend in his Games, one who shared his emblem of snakes. She learned to control them and change their venom’s property with herbs, granting Five agelessness when she had one bite him just before dying in his arms, having sacrificed herself so he could win. Her death cemented Five’s hatred of the Games and Capitol and his belief of attachments as weaknesses, and he often hallucinates her and speaks with her phantom when he’s locked away from the world, leading her to be known as a sore subject with Five and his greatest weakness. (That is, until his new family comes along and gives him something to fight for.)

(Mockingjay) Ben was a tribute in one of Klaus’ first Games as an escort, and he fell in deep platonic love with him. The two remained bonded throughout the years, as Klaus saved Ben by faking his death and keeping him in the body of a mockingjay until their victory in the second war, and Ben stayed by Klaus’ side for all that time as his beloved pet. Klaus would receive the names of marks from Five and give Ben poison to kill them with, having found a way to alter the venom in Ben’s talons from records of Dolores and Five’s Games, and a couple of vague and shallow conversations between himself and the latter. When Ben returns to his human form, Klaus tugs him into his arms and thanks him for all he’s done, never leaving his side again.

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bethpeaches123 · 4 years

Note

Everlark #46

Okay, this took much longer than I’d hoped, but that’s because every time I thought I was finished, something new popped into my head and I had to include it, so it’s also much longer than I’d anticipated. But, here it is, @mandelion82! I hope you enjoy! I’m thinking of continuing it too, so stay tuned! Also going to post it on AO3. :)

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Everlark 46: nanny/single parent au

The Nanny/Babysitter/Minder

When Katniss Everdeen placed an ad looking for a nanny to care for her five-year-old daughter Cassie, the gorgeous blond, blue-eyed specimen of a man standing on her front porch was not exactly what she had in mind.

“Can I…help you? Sir?” she asked, trying to wipe the puzzled expression off her face when she opened the door.

He smiled, his hands shoved in the front pockets of his dark wash jeans, looking slightly puzzled himself. “I’m Peeta. Peeta Mellark? I emailed you about the nanny position for your daughter? We agreed I’d come over to meet her at one o’clock today?” he replied. His eyes flickered to the side at the sound of a car horn behind him on the busy street, then flicked back to Katniss while he waited for her response.

Flustered that Peeta was apparently a man’s name and not an old woman’s like she’d assumed, (Why had she assumed that? What could have it been short for? Petunia? Come on, Katniss) she hesitated and then said, “oh, yes, of course. Um, please, come in,” stepping aside to let the subtly muscular man walk past her and into the hallway.

Hesitating again, she decided to throw caution to the wind and continue with the appointment with this man, Peeta. She hadn’t received any other responses to the ad she’d placed two weeks prior, and she was getting desperate. Her surgery schedule had changed at the hospital, thanks to crotchety Chief Abernathy who didn’t care about her childcare woes, and she needed to find someone to pick Cassie up from school until her current shift rotation changed again in a few months’ time. If it changed. Knowing Abernathy, he’d keep her on this schedule indefinitely.

“Cassie? Can you come out please sweetheart, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” she called down the hall.

She motioned for Peeta to proceed into the living room as a tiny pixie of a girl came bounding down the hall and into the room, her dark brown hair in two messy braids down her back. “Mama, I was playing,” she whined, but stopped and stared, wide-eyed at the blond man standing in front of her. “Who are you?” she asked, curiously.

“Cassie honey, I told you we’d be meeting your new nann-err…your….baby-um…your…minder…today. Remember?” hastily fumbling over what to call Peeta. “This is Mr. Mel-um, Peeta.”

“Hi Mr. Peeta,” Cassie whispered, peering up at him shyly as her little mouth curling into a smile.

Peeta knelt down in front of Cassie and held out his hand. “Hello Miss Cassie, it’s very nice to meet you. You can call me just Peeta, though, if you’d like,” he replied, gently smiling at the girl. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you better, I hope.”

“Cassie, why don’t you tell Peeta about school? Cassie just started grade one. Peeta, can I get you something to drink?” asked Katniss, starting towards the kitchen. She needed to put some distance between herself and this gorgeous man. Needed to catch her breath and steady herself – it had been a while since she’d been around anyone who made her feel so flustered. She was usually so calm and cool-headed; she needed to be, being an orthopedic surgeon and all. When Peeta didn’t reply right away, she turned to face him and found him staring straight at her.

“I’m fine, thank you,” he replied, his eyes warm as he looked at her for a beat longer than normal, before turning his focus back to her mini-me sitting before him on the floor. She could feel the heat from his brief gaze go straight to her core. She shivered and spun on her heel, swiftly walking to the kitchen. What was that? As she poured herself a glass of water, she gave herself a mental shake before gulping it down and returning to the living room to sit and observe.

As Katniss watched the two interact on the floor, her initial hesitations began to melt away. Peeta was patient, attentive and gentle with her sweet girl, listening to her talk about her dolls, how much she wanted a cat (Katniss refused - she and felines did not get along) and how nice her kindergarten teacher Mr. Cinna was. Peeta asked her questions about her favourite colour (purple, but also green, like Mama) what she wanted to be when she grew up (a veterinarian) and her favourite flavour ice cream (Rocky Road).

After 45 minutes had passed and the two seemed thick as thieves, Katniss’s worries were gone. Her desperation to find someone to look after Cassie while she was at work had melted away as she watched Cassie, normally a shy, reserved little girl, open up and giggle at the gentle man who made silly faces and showed her pictures of his cat, Cupcake (she could’ve scolded him for that - she didn’t need Cassie getting any more ideas about wanting a cat.) Occasionally, she’d laugh softly at something one of them would say, and she’d catch Peeta’s eye when he’d glance at her and smile warmly, his dimples dusting his cheeks.

With her ex Gale no longer in the picture, and her mother and sister living two states away, she didn’t have any family support. Peeta seemed to be the answer to her prayers, judging from how quickly he and her daughter got along. Plus…he wasn’t hard on the eyes. Stop lusting after the hired help, Katniss. Get it together.

After some more time had passed, Katniss looked at her watch and said, “Well, I think we’ve taken up enough of Peeta’s time, Cassie, and you have to get ready to head out to your singing lesson too,” said Katniss, standing up and motioning to her daughter to go to her room and get ready. “Why don’t you brush your teeth, use the bathroom and get your sheet music from your bedroom while I talk to Peeta?”

“But I don’t haveta use the bathroom, Mama,” Cassie grumbled. She didn’t make any moves to get up from her spot on the floor next to Peeta, who smartly stayed silent as he watched the mother and daughter talk.

“You will as soon as we get in the car and by then it’ll be too late. Go, please, missy,” replied her mother, sternly.

Peeta stood up from where he’d been sitting crossed legged on the floor with Cassie and dipping into a deep bow, offered her his hand to pull her up. “May I be of service to the young lady and help her up?” His eyes twinkled as she giggled again and placed her little hand in his, letting him easily pull her to her feet. “Will I see you again, Mr. Peeta?” she asked shyly, glancing at her mother before turning back to him.

“I would like that, Miss Cassie. How about I chat with your mama while you get ready? It’s a good idea to listen to her - she knows best,” he replied gently.

Cassie huffed, but turned and bounded out of the room, the chorus of “Let It Go” echoing down the hall as she went.

Peeta chuckled and shook his head amusedly, shoving his hands in his front pockets, adopting his stance from earlier. He turned his gaze to Katniss once again, his piercing blue eyes warm and kind. Before she could speak, Peeta beat her to it.

“She seems like a wonderful little girl, Mrs. Everdeen. I’d be happy to look after her for you when needed,” he said. “I can provide a list of references and my child CPR certification if you’d like. I mean, if you’d like me to...if you’d like t-to hire me?” He stuttered, watching her face spread into a wide, amused smile.

“It’s Dr. Everdeen, actually. Ms. Dr. Everdeen, really. I’m not married. Ever. Haven’t ever been married. I mean, not that that matters, I’m jus-I mean Cassie’s father and I weren’t married, we were just together, but he’s not around anymore, he-” what was wrong with her? She was a top-notch surgeon; a strong, independent woman, raising a child on her own. Why was she so tongue-tied around this man? She took a deep breath and said, “Katniss is fine. And your references and other files would be great. Could you email them to me please?”

Amused by her stuttered response that mirrored his own, Peeta replied, “Okay. Katniss it is, and yes, I’ll send them over today.” He seemed relieved that she was as nervous as he was.

After they discussed hours and rate of pay, the one questions that had been nagging in the back of her mind finally couldn’t be left unasked. “Why do you want this job?” She blurted.

Mortified, she continued before he could even open his mouth. “Sorry, it’s just...when I placed the ad, I expected to find an old, grandmother-type woman. Not a young, handsome guy. I mean-I just...I haven’t come across a lot of male...nannies,” she trailed off, embarrassed by her word choice. Did I just call him handsome? To his face? Oh god, I wish I could bury MY face in my hands right about now.

Peeta shifted somewhat uncomfortably from one foot to the other before replying. “That’s a fair question, I guess. I work in my family’s bakery in the mornings, but my day is finished by noon. I wanted something to fill the rest of my days and I love kids – I have a niece and nephew who are just the greatest, I love spending time with little people that age, they’re so inquisitive and honest. I’ve actually thought about going back to school to become a teacher – I mean, I haven’t ruled it out yet, I’m only twenty-six, that’s not too old. Plus, I thought about how much of a struggle it must be sometimes to be a single parent and if I have the ability and capacity to help someone out, well, then I want to do that.” He realized he was rambling a bit and flushed with embarrassment. “Is that weird? I just thought I’d combine helping people and kids and...well, here I am. Here we are.”

“Here we are indeed,” mused Katniss, staring at him wonderingly. “That seems like as good a reason as any, I suppose.” She started to turn away but stopped and looked at him once again. “And I do appreciate the help, by the way…can you start Monday?” Her lips curved into a small smile, Peeta beamed back at her, this time his dimples on full display.

“Great! Yes, Monday’s great. Okay. Good. I think this will be...great. I’ve said great a lot. I’ll stop,” said Peeta sheepishly, running his hand through his messy blond curls. His face flushed bright red again, a shade Katniss found endearing.

Before she could respond again, Cassie came bounding down the hallway, her teeth clean and music bag in tow. “I’m ready, Mama! Mr. Peeta, so will I see you again?” She asked hopefully, peering up at her new friend once again.

Peeta glanced at Katniss, who smiled and nodded, before replying to Cassie. “You will! I’ll be there to pick you up from school on Monday. I have a very serious question for you though, Miss Cassie. Are you ready to hear it?” Her brow furrowed as she nodded slowly. “Do you like to have fun?” She little face broke out into a grin as she nodded again, more enthusiastically this time. “Well good,” he continued. “Because we’re going to have lots of it.”

Hearing her child break out into giggles again melted her heart and stirred something inside her. Looking at Peeta, she met his intense gaze with one of her own, grateful for this kind man to care for the more important person in her life.

“Well, it’s time to go, sweetheart. Peeta, thank you so much again. We’ll be chatting before Monday to go over the rest of the particulars,” said Katniss, ushering Cassie out the front door and turning to Peeta once again. As he moved past her to go through the front door, his hand lightly pressed against the small of her back to step around her, and Katniss felt the heat of his touch through her coat. It spread from her back throughout her body, right down to her toes. She froze as he passed through the door and hopped down the steps, turning back to look at her and flashed his dimples once again. Oh my. This is going to be interesting…

“I’ll speak to you very soon, Katniss. Cassie, I’ll see you Monday afternoon!” he called, cheerfully as he waved and headed to his car.

“I like Mr. Peeta, Mama. He’s nice. And he has a cat!! Do you think he can bring Cupcake over to play with me sometime?” Cassie babbled as Katniss strapped her into her seat, her mind replaying the memory of Peeta’s touch on her back over and over. She flushed again, thinking of how close his muscular body had to hers been when he walked by, how his blue eyes sparkled when he stared at her, how his dimples seemed to make an appearance when he beamed at her….how his ass looked when he bent over to help Cassie up...

Oh no. She was in trouble.

A young, hot, (she has to admit he was hot, there was no denying it) kind, patient man was going to be looking after her child and thus very, very involved in her life for the unforeseeable future. This would be interesting indeed…

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#everlark fanfiction #everlark #everlark fanfic #mama!katniss #katniss everdeen #Peeta Mellark #babysitter!peeta #The Hunger Games

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cinna-vanilla · 3 years

Text

s i g h s. hi. i wrote over 1k words on what was supposed to be a quick drabble. it’s really bad and i’m very rusty but w/e !!!!

media : darkman (bc im hyperfixating babey !!!!)

warnings : violence, body horror (briefly mentioned / implied), negative thoughts / self talk, a really fucking bad ending (lmao)

“where is he?”

a shaky wheeze was the only sound the young adult made as the hand around their throat tightened. tears welled in their blue eyes as they trembled in the strong grip of the thug. their luck tended to be slim and in all twenty-two years of their life, they couldn’t help but wonder how such an occasion as this hadn’t happened up until this point.

they had only wanted to go for a walk. maybe choosing the seedier part of town wasn’t exactly an...intelligent decision, but nonetheless, their intentions hadn’t been bad. the main streets were typically always crowded and they hadn’t wanted to deal with it. clearly, their decision was an incorrect one.

“where. is. he?” the man shouted before shoving the young adult away in frustration. they cower pitifully on the gravel road.

“stupid, pathetic, idiotic--” the man hisses and swears as he kicks their curled-up form.

a deep, primitive growl startles the thug mid-kick, causing him to stumble...which would have been hilarious to them if they weren’t being in the process of being treated like a human punching bag.

they weakly inched backward and away from the fist-fight that started to occur between the two men. the thug was very quickly overpowered and fled with his metaphorical tail between his legs.

which left the second man alone with them.

the first thing they noticed was the bandages that wrapped around the majority of his face and hands. the second thing they noticed was how tall the man was. he was practically a giant compared to their petite height of five feet, even as he slowly knelt down in what could be assumed as a way to be less intimidating.

“who are you?” his voice was gruff, but attempted to sound gentle nonetheless.

“c-cinna,” was their shaky, hoarse response. “i’m- i’m cinna.” they attempted to stand, not wanting to inconvenience the man any further, only to whimper in pain.

he moved closer at their cry of pain. “you’re injured.”

bandaged hands softly felt around forming bruises to check for any broken bones. their gaze was distant, dissociating from the pain, as the man worked. every touch, no matter how gentle, ached badly. they were rather used to feeling like a burden for being in pain.

some pain was a bit too much to hide.

a single hand brushed their right knee, causing cinna to flinch sharply and curl away painfully from the touch. a loud popping noise was heard from the offending joint from their quick movement.

“s-sorry, i- i didn’t mean--” they whimpered apologetically. they knew that the man was only trying to help.

he merely shushed the young adult as he finished assessing their physical state. “i don’t believe there is anything broken, cinna, however, i’d still recommend seeing a doctor.”

by the time they stood up and turned to thank the man to his face...he was gone as if he had never even been there in the first place.

“thank you,”

even if only spoken into empty air, they wanted their appreciation to be known. simply thanking the man felt dull and insincere, however. he had saved them from whatever unfortunate fate the thug had for them.

they decided that they owed him.

---

two weeks later, cinna wandered their way back into the very same place they had been attacked. truth be told, they didn’t know if he was actually going to be there...but they were going to take a chance. they had to, they told themself.

they awkwardly wandered down the uneven road, gawking at abandoned buildings as they walked. a large gift bag was clutched between their hands.

“h-hello? s-sir?” they nervously called out.

they didn’t have to wait very long for a response to echo from amongst the buildings.

“are you mad?! what are you doing here?!” he yelled.

cinna flinched from the angry tone, but explained themself nonetheless. “i-- i wanted to thank you...i brought you gifts...” they shakily held the bag out in front of them. “i know it’s dangerous i just...i needed to thank you properly.”

there was silence. moments later the man came out of one of the buildings and approached the young adult. he hesitantly took the bag, probably worried it was a trick, and reached a shaking hand inside.

the first thing he pulled out was a large ziplock bag full of cookies.

they blushed nervously at the confused look the man gave them. “they’re homemade. i dunno what you like so i ended up making a whole bunch...”

“i--thank you, cinna.” he replied, surprised. he reached his hand into the bag again and his eyes widened as he pulled something very soft out.

cinna watched him hold the bundle of material in his hands curiously. “it’s a scarf!” they explained, voice undeniably proud, “i crocheted it myself. those bandages on your face can’t be comfortable so i thought maybe that could help.”

the man eyes went from the scarf to the young adult in front of them.

“this is- oh, child,” he sounded close to tears as he spoke, “i don’t--”

cinna stepped forward, worried. “i’m sorry, please don’t cry, sir!” they wrung their hands nervously, afraid they had messed up somehow.

he shook his head, quiet sobs escaping as the young adult continued to stutter out unnecessary apologies. they felt like they had made some great mistake to have made him cry.

“you are a very sweet child,” he murmured in between tears, “and please, call me darkman.”

the worried expression remained on their face as they nodded. a heaviness grew behind their eyes and they began to rapidly blink in an attempt to prevent any tears from falling.

“...cinna?” darkman questioned, head cocked slightly to the side.

“i’m- i’m fine- i’m--” they stuttered and stumbled. trembling, they turned away, refusing to let themself cry.

darkman...was such a sad-sounding name. it sounded so cold, so cruel compared to the actuality of the man in front of them. it was embarrassing, but they couldn’t help but tear up when they thought of how such a kind man could have ended up with such a name. not that they wanted to, by any means. they didn’t want to end up burdening him with their emotions, with their thoughts or, anything else. they had already done so enough at this point.

they flinched as a hand brushed their shoulder, jolting the young adult out of their thoughts.

“sorry- i- i have to go!”

embarrassment flooding through their veins sent them running, even as the man yelled after them. right now, all cinna wanted to do was to hide for a long, long time. they felt like they had ruined everything. they felt...a lot of things, a lot of things they pretended not to feel.

even still...the young adult couldn’t help but feel as if this wasn’t going to be the last time they came into contact with darkman, and truthfully, they didn’t know how to feel about that.

#cinna.txt #fae writes #wowzo i get 2 use that tag again #also please don't feel obligated 2 read this it's really really long and bad skflhsdl

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my-emotional-self · 5 years

Text

The Mission Chapter 16

Pairings: Ari Levinson x Reader

Warnings: swearing, smut (unprotected sex)

Summary: Ari Levinson tries to recruit you for Operation Brothers. While you weren’t ready for any kind of mission, you obliged after much consideration. You didn’t plan on falling in love along the way. But will Ari return those feelings? Or will his heart only be on the mission?

Six Months Later

Just a little over a year you and the crew had now been at the resort. Every month or so, more and more refugees made it safely to Jerusalem; the number on the “Satisfied Guests” board just kept growing.

The resort itself was also growing. Once one tourist bus would leave, the next would arrive within 24 hours. It was the best cover possible and you were honestly having the time of your life. But you had a gut feeling something was going to happen; something bad. You always trusted your gut feeling, no matter how big or small you felt something might be.

During your down time between missions, you and Rachel actually came up with a workout routine for the tourists and you taught it every other day while at the resort.

“One. Two. Three. Four. Five,” you and Rachel spoke in synch with your German accents, throwing punches with your arms across your bodies. It was hot inside the lobby, the sweat beading across your face as you did your workout routine with your friend.

“Good job everyone. Keep it up! Now onto squats!” you said, placing your hands on your hips and counting out with Rachel.

Peering over the group of tourists working out in front of you, you saw Ari walking around the perimeter of the resort, mug of coffee in his hand; his eyes glued to your body. Normally you wore leggings under your leotards when working out, but it was too hot today so you decided to skip them. Instead, you were just wearing a short sleeved black with white polka dotted leotard and thick leg warmers around your ankles.

When Ari noticed your bare legs, he nearly tripped over his own two legs as his eyes roamed over your body. You did your best to hide your smile, but it didn’t work; blush creeping up from your neck and to your cheeks at his gaze.

The two of you had sex and fooled around off and on over the last six months. It was a great stress reliever, but it also made you go from falling in love with Ari, to full blown in love with him. Numerous times you wanted to talk to him about your feelings as you thought he might possibly reciprocate them as well. But you didn’t want to ruin a good thing you had going on, especially because you all were still there for the mission. Nevertheless, if there wasn’t a mission going, your mind was on Ari.

Once the routine was over, you gave Rachel a high five before grabbing a towel and water. The cold water felt wonderful on your parched throat as you downed the entire bottle. Finished with the water, you waved to the tourists and headed outside to the smallest building of the resort; the laundry room.

Each week everyone switched out chores and this week you were responsible for laundry. One thing you really loved about the resort was that except for the buildings with the rooms and the main lobby, there were no doors; only arches that brought forth the hot, yet breezy air from the sea.

Placing some of the dirty clothes into the washer, you began to hum to the song stuck in your head, ‘Hungry Like The Wolf’ By Duran Duran; your hips swaying back and forth as you piled in the clothes. Adding the soap, you shut the door to the washer and turned the dial to start; the machine coming alive with the vibrations of the water. A soft yelp left your lips as you turned around to see Ari leaning against the wall opposite you; his thick arms folded across his chest, a cunning grin on his face.

“Ari, you startled me,” you laughed breathlessly.

His eyes traveled the length of your body up and down before landing back on your eyes. His arms uncrossed and he took the few small steps to get to you, backing you up against the washer as his lips claimed yours. He began to nip at your lower lip and you opened your mouth, wanting to taste him. Your tongues massaged together, your hands threading through his chest hair as he wasn’t wearing a shirt. His hands cupped your face, tilting it to the side for a better angle and he swallowed your moan of desire.

Ari paused, pulling away; your lips just barely brushing against one another’s. Your head was swimming with the passion of the short kiss. His hips pushed into you and you could feel how hard he was.

“Do you feel what you do to me?” he rasped out, lips brushing yours as he spoke. “This is how hard I got just watching you in that little outfit you’re wearing. Do you know how many of those men were ogling you during your workout?”

Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt his lips at your neck. His hands left your face and trailed down your body to grip at your hips. In a swift movement, he placed you on the washer and you parted your legs for him to stand between them; his rock hard cock now hitting you perfectly against your clit and you could feel yourself growing wetter by the second.

“Ari,” you keened.

A dark chuckle came from him. “What is it baby? What do you need?” After all this time, it still never ceased to amaze you at how turned on you got when he called you baby in such a raspy voice.

“You,” you pleaded in a mumble. “I need you.”

In a moments time, he shimmied his shorts down to his ankles and then pulled you to the edge of the washing machine. The machine began to vibrate more heavily as it flipped to the spin cycle, making you cry out as the vibrations hit your core.

He pulled the bottom of your leotard to the side, his fingers trailing along your folds to already find you soaked for him. Ari wasted no time lining himself up before thrusting into you. Gripping him around the shoulders, you held onto him as he thrust rapidly into your core; your mouth at his neck where you began to suck on him to drown out your moans.

There was nothing like having sex with Ari; it was complete euphoria. He always made sure your needs were attended to before he finished. But today, the vibrations of the washing machine was helping with that. The vibrations sent tingles from your spine, spreading to the rest of your body as you hooked your legs around his waist.

“ShitshitshitSHIT!’ you mewled, feeling the coil begin to tighten in your lower abdomen. It was all too much; Ari’s thrusts, the vibrations beneath you. Your toes began to curl and you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep quiet. Your breathing became ragged, your eyes hooded as the coil snapped. Your head flung backwards and just as a scream ripped from your throat, Ari’s hand clamped around your mouth to drown out the noise as best as possible.

Your walls, along with the washing machine, vibrated, sending Ari over the edge as he stilled inside of you; his own grunts couldn’t be tamed as quiet as he hoped. His head was thrown back as you saw the ecstasy spread across his face. Slumping back onto the washing machine, you closed your eyes and willed that you could regain your breathing in time before anyone walked in on you two.

~~~

“What’s that?” Sammy said, pointing to the bruise you had left on Ari’s neck.

Ari scratched at the purple mark, turning to face his friend. “Nothing. What’s up man?”

Sammy laughed, shaking his head. “You tell me.”

He stilled his walking, just wanting to go back to his room and take a shower before Sammy stopped him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re falling for her aren’t you?” Sammy asked. Ari’s brows furrowed as he placed his hands on his lips. “Y/N. You’re falling in love with Y/N aren’t you?”

Ari scoffed as he began walking back to his room. “I don’t know what you are talking about man.”

“Oh don’t bullshit me Sammy,” he declared with a serious tone. He ran up ahead, stopping in front of Ari. “I’ve known you for how long?”

“Too long.”

“Yeah and I’ve seen the way you look at her. Fuck Ari, I never saw you look at your wife that way! Why don’t you just tell Y/N how you feel about her?”

“Soon to be ex-wife.” Ari looked to the ground. He wanted to, so many times. And he almost did on a few occasions. He had a feeling you felt the same way about him, but he didn’t want his feelings to cloud his judgement when it came to the mission. Sure, when you were at the village when the Hadandawa were there, he was terrified he’d lost you forever. And he couldn’t get enough of you when it came to the sex. But there was more to you than sex, so much more.

Turning to face his friend, he shook his head and scoffed. “You’re wrong Sammy.” Ari walked back to his room as he thought to himself. His friend was wrong; he wasn’t falling for you; he was already head over heels in love with you.

Forever Tag List: @badassbaker @guera31 @tanelle83 @xjjlex @chrisevansfanfic @princess-evans-addict @joannie95 @pumbibaby @patzammit @brastrangled @mrs-captain-evans @notyourtypicalrose @sfreeborn @esoltis280 @xxloki81xx @bornfortherainydays @poerebel @livslookingforloki @raveviolet @southerngrracela @the-wayward-robot @scuzmunkie @cinna-minseok @laura-gzz @beautifulrare4leafclover @emogeographics @chocolate-cutting @capslut2014 @songforhema @allsortsofinterests @firstangeldragonranch @bval-1 @softbibby @troublermalik @space-helen @zsuzstyina @captainsteveevans @fafulous

Ari Tag List: @angrybirdcr @beautifulbashfulblackqueen @itssweetprison @thiccstuxky @writerwithfluffysocks @ohmyevans @ari-levinson @jennmurawski13 @rimbougrine @littlemaatta @thisisjeany @capsbooty7 @anjana-fandoms28 @thepriestessofavalon @ladybugsfanfics @xchrisxevansx @draeluna @mgosal43 @symonlyjen5 @mustangshelby04 @technicallykawaiisoul @chibi-crazy @capamericaevans @peach-acid @whitequeenasitbgan @diariesoftheunwritten @emmalbg @iizabxlla @mamaragebear @janeyboo @rainbowkisses31 @capsiclesdoll @torntaltos @mrsevansthefirst @itsallyscorner @nthepianogirl @shmaptain-shmericaa @puddlejoy @random-shit-for-you-all @31shadesofbrown @naturalavenger @nanibon @cdnmaggie @wandascarlett @the-fandom-life-forever @viarogers @basicallycaptianhoran @fallenoutofrose @clevercamijo @the-murder-strut @this-is-serenaa

Ari Taglist Closed!

#ari levinson #ari levinson smut #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson fanfic #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x y/n #chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader

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junie-bugg · 4 years

Text

Prospects and Propriety - Chapter Two

Summary: Everlark Jane Austen AU

Katniss Everdeen and her younger sister Prim are the adopted daughters of Mr. Haymitch Abernathy, a wealthy man with no biological heirs. By the rules of Panem society, an older sibling must be married before the younger can wed. In a time when women have no means of making their own living, marriage is the only way for Katniss to save her sister from destitution and set her up for a happy marriage of her own. Katniss sets her sights on Mr. Gale Hawthorne, a wealthy man who just moved to Whitley and who seems to have his eye on her. But what of the poor baker’s boy who once took a beating to save her life?

Read here on Tumblr or on my AO3 account: izzacrosswriting

Warning: I do plan on this series getting a lil smutty. There will be graphic depictions of violence, sex, and possibly death. I’m still working everything out:)

Nature ambiance(s):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UZ9uyQI3pF0&t=1694s

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hUjUhZ1Yy7Y

Music:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hQbx-OkfN-M

(If you want to listen to this song on Spotify it's called Symphony No.5 in C Sharp Minor: 4. Adagietto (Sehr Iangsam))

Word Count: 3125

Chapter Two

Prim and I have the next day off of lessons. We’ve been homeschooled ever since we came to live with Haymitch, but the weekends are saved purely for whatever we see fit to fill them with. For me, that’s mostly hunting and being out in the woods, unless the weather is bad, and sometimes not even then.

If I decide to stay at home I usually lounge around with a book and see what Prim is up to. It’s mostly knitting, dress-up, or playing with the ugly cat Haymitch let her keep a few years back. Prim named him Buttercup, claiming that his matted, ruddy coat matched the bright yellow of the flowers she so adored. I had wanted to drown the thing in a bucket when we caught him stealing scraps from the kitchen, but Haymitch had laughed, even picked the thing up by the scruff of his neck and shook him around.

“Look at this little guy, sweetheart. He’s a survivor. We can’t kill him!” He had placed the dirty, mewling kitten into Prim’s arms and the thing had hissed at me. I was worried he’d give Prim some kind of disease but he never did. I don’t feel gratitude towards him though. Only suspicion. It could still happen.

When I want to be alone I go to my greenhouse. Really it’s Prim’s and my greenhouse, but ever since she found maggots in the compost pile nearly two years ago, she hasn’t stepped foot in there. The greenhouse is small, maybe a third the size of my bedroom, but it’s peaceful. Especially when it storms and I can hear every hollow beat of the raindrops on its glass roof. It’s situated on the edge of the grounds by the tree line that morphs into the large forested hill behind Victor Greene, Haymitch’s estate. Over the years I’ve planted herbs and flowers and medicinal plants I’ve found on my journeys into the woods. The plants do well here in the rows of dark soil I’ve fortified with compost and fertilizer. The whole place smells of earthy rot and there’s something about how sunlight scatters lazily through the frosted windows that calms me. There’s a nook on the far side of the greenhouse, past all the plants, where I’ve scattered some quilts and pillows on a wide triangular window ledge. It’s a perfect place to read or sleep. Or sing.

This is the only place where I let myself sing. I don’t even do it in the woods, always afraid someone else taking a stroll will hear me or that I’ll scare away game. Ever since Prim and I were placed under Haymitch’s care, really ever since our dad died, I refuse to sing in front of others. Maybe it’s because I’m shy and I don’t like people listening to my voice swelling and breaking on the high notes. Or maybe I’m lying to myself and I don’t sing in front of others because it’s too painful to remember a time when my life was filled with music. Mountain aires and lullabies and love songs, all sung by my father. I guess I don’t like breaking apart when there’s an audience. But when I’m alone I can shatter beneath the notes for a time, before I’m needed back up at the house.

Today, however, instead of knitting or playing hide and seek in the gardens, Prim has informed me she wants to walk to the village. “You need new ribbons for the ball!” She squeaks as I button up her light pink dress from behind. We have servants available who help us dress or bathe or brush our hair but I always like helping Prim myself. She looks like a tiny little princess with her frilly dress and her curls pulled back with a pearl white ribbon. In contrast, I look plain in a forest green frock and my light brown shawl.

“I told you, Prim. I’m not going.” I struggle with the last button. Prim has been going through a growth spurt and soon she’ll be too big for this dress. I feel sad, watching my little sister growing up so fast.

“I heard Mrs. Winthrop and Ms. Trinket talking and they said you had to go,” She’s grinning so hard I can see the slight gap between her two front teeth. “Because Mr. Hawthorne is going to be there.”

Ah, yes. My supposed husband-to-be. So even Prim has heard about Ms. Trinkets’ ridiculous arrangements. A man with that much money has his pick of the litter when it comes to choosing brides. I’m not ugly, but I’m no exquisite beauty either. Not like some of the girls I see around Whitley. I have no fortune of my own, really no status either besides being Haymitch’s ward and that will go up in smoke the second he dies. Most likely Mr. Hawthorne will look right through me and move on. But the news that I’m being forced to attend the public ball worries me. The whole village will be there. Including him. The baker’s boy.

Maybe some new ribbons aren’t such a bad idea.

We turn down an offer for the carriage and instead walk along the main road into Whitley. My boots have barely brushed the cobblestone sidewalks when Prim is dragging me into the seamstresses’ shop. The dressmaker, Cinna Ludgate, and the tailor, I think her name is Portia Peever, both turn to welcome us. Prim tells Mr. Ludgate about my need for new ribbons and in a flash he pulls down the display from the ceiling, winking at me as he walks back to the counter.

There are so many to choose from. Streams of all colors flutter between my outstretched fingertips like butterfly’s wings. I see ribbons of frilly lace, satin, velvet, and even silk. My eyes land on a simple, white cloth ribbon with a delicate embroidered lavender pattern. I hold it up for Prim’s inspection and she declares I have to buy two in case I manage to get one dirty before the ball.

I’ve just handed Mrs. Peever the money for the ribbons when the bell over the door rings. In walks Ms. Delly Cartright, one of Prim’s closest friends, and her older sister, Ms. Marianne Cartright. Their father is the village shoemaker, so they’re well known and well-liked by almost everybody. Delly is Prim’s age which gives them plenty to talk about. Prim grabs a hold of Delly and begins showing her the latest shipment of buttons Mr. Ludgate has displayed.

Marianne is one year younger than me but we’ve never exchanged more than simple pleasantries. I dread small talk but from my personal experience, a trip into town wouldn’t be deemed official without at least one awkward encounter.

“Are you coming to the ball, Ms. Everdeen? You missed the last one,” Marianne asks. She’s absolutely gorgeous, with big, blue doe eyes and a pouty mouth. Her nose is small and her figure slender. She is what they call a “country belle” in Town. I know at least five love songs written about girls like her. I expect in a few years Prim will grow to be one herself.

“The dancing was splendid. I do hope you’re coming next week,” She continues.

I hold up my ribbons in response. “My tutor Ms. Trinket won’t let me miss it.” I force my mouth into a smile.

“Oh,” Marianne’s eyes have settled on my ribbons. They’re probably a tad dull for her taste seeing as there were velvets and silks to choose from, but I like the simple flower design. The white cloth paired with the purple and green thread looks pretty. “Well, as my darling mother always says: simple never goes out of style.” She smiles up at me but the warmth doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “My sister and I are here for my dress fitting. I can’t wait to show everyone what Mr. Ludgate made me for the ball. It’s a custom piece!” She practically squeals. I nod and bid her goodbye, waving Prim over so we can leave. I breathe a sigh of relief as we exit the shop. I hate girl talk.

With our main objective for coming to Whitley carried out, my feet automatically turn towards home, but Prim has other ideas. “Can we look at the cakes, Katniss?” She begs. She’s like a little puppy. I can’t refuse, though I grow more anxious with every step closer to the bakery we get.

I know what this is. A look at the cakes in the window leads to Prim asking to go inside. It’s happened before and I’ve been lucky enough to avoid him. He works alongside his parents and two older brothers anyway. What are the chances that he’ll be manning the counter and not the ovens in the back?

Prim pulls me through the bakery doors and runs to press her face against the display case. I hear a call of “I’ll be right there!” from the back, followed by a grunt and the shuffling of boxes. I join Prim and am just starting to admire the selection of pastries when I hear a quiet gasp and look up.

It's him. The baker’s youngest son. I don't know him by name but I remember him. Of course, I remember him. I can almost feel the icy sheets of rain and the hollow numbness of hunger from that horrible day as I meet his gaze.

Our father had died three months earlier. He had been a poor wheat farmer but the income from the harvest was enough to support a small household. My mother traded plants and home remedies to supplement what our empty pockets couldn’t buy. One winter, my father had been kicked in the head by his horse. My mother did everything she could but even as young as I was, I knew he had died before he hit the ground. After that my mother stopped eating. She just sat in bed and stared at the walls while her children turned to skin and bone. I did everything to try and rouse her but it was no use. With our father dead so too was her will to live.

At eleven I became the sole provider of the family. I ventured into town alone to sell that damn horse, some old jewelry, and even dresses of my mother’s from her merchant days, but the money ran out quickly and there was more to buy than food. Our hearth sat cold, unused, and wanting of wood, and we resorted to rubbing ourselves raw to keep warm. We stopped attending school in the village, afraid that a teacher would see how hollow we were becoming and would whisk us away to the orphanage. I had seen orphans in the schoolyard, their faces empty and their shoulders slumped in defeat. I would never let that happen to Prim.

We had eaten nothing but dried mint leaves in water for three days before I decided to try selling some of Prim’s old baby clothes in town. The clothes were threadbare and faded so nobody had wanted them. My arms were shaking so violently from cold and malnourishment that I ended up dropping them in a puddle. I decided to leave them there, afraid that if I bent over I wouldn’t be able to get back up.

I found myself stumbling around behind a row of brick buildings. The rain had started and I was soaked to the bone. The smell of baking bread carried over the frigid air and I realized I was behind the bakery. The back door was open and I stood, trancelike, basking in the warm glow of the ovens before a thought floated through my foggy head. Maybe they had food scraps in their trash. A crust of bread or rotting vegetables, something only my family was desperate enough to eat. I lifted the tops off of the bins and my hopes died when I saw that their insides were heartbreakingly bare.

Suddenly, I heard a woman screeching. It was the baker’s wife. She spat remarks about how she was sick of people going through her trash bins and if I didn’t leave she would call law enforcement. As I dropped the lids and backed away I saw a boy peeking out from behind his mother’s skirts. I recognized him from school but we had never talked.

With my final hope gone I slumped against a scrubby little apple tree in their yard. My knees buckled and I slipped down into the mud. I would rather die than go home empty-handed to Prim’s gaunt face and my mother’s sickly, unblinking eyes.

I heard a commotion from the bakery and then the ring of metal on flesh.

“Feed it to the pigs you worthless creature! No one decent will buy burnt bread!” The witch screeched. There was the boy again, come out the back door clutching two blackened loaves. A bright red mark shone on his cheek and my heart twisted when I realized his mother must have hit him. He looked between me and the pigpen, and then glanced back towards the door. His mother must have gone up to front to serve a customer because then I heard him sloshing his way through puddles to get to me.

“Take them!” He urged, pressing the loaves into my skeletal hands. “Take them! Go!” As quickly as he came he was gone, back into the kitchens. I watched him disappear. As he closed the door only then did I realize what he had done for me.

Two loaves of bread! And they weren’t even that burned, really only the crusts had been damaged. I quickly pressed them to the skin under my shirt and hurried home. The searing heat from the loaves roused something within me. I couldn’t die. Not when I had Prim to take care of.

I dropped the loaves on the table and stopped my sister from savagely tearing a chunk off for herself. I sat her down, forced our mother to join us, and then began scraping off the blackened bits. That night we feasted on two slices of bread each, afraid so much food might make us sick. The loaves were hearty, filled with nuts and bits of cranberry. I had never tasted anything so good in my entire life.

As I predicted, it was a teacher that found out about our situation. Upon our absence at school, she had come looking for us and found Prim and I living in squalor with a mother that was too sick to care. I thought that was it, that we were to be sent to the orphanage now and our mother taken away to an institution. But a man by the name of Haymitch Abernathy, wealthy and lacking a family of his own, intervened. He had heard of our misfortunes from hushed gossip around the village and had petitioned to adopt us. Our mother was eventually sent to an institution by the sea and we’ve lived with Haymitch, fed and clothed and taken care of, ever since.

The baker’s boy saved our lives that day. Surely I would have given up and died under that apple tree if it wasn’t for the kindness he showed me. I owe him everything. And because of that, I will never be able to pay him back.

I take him in now. He's taller than he was before. Much taller. His chubby child’s build has been replaced with an imposing stature that takes up almost the entire doorway. I guess a lifetime of hefting bakery pans and kneading dough has left him broad-shouldered and muscular.

“Katniss,” he says. I can tell he’s surprised to see me. His voice is deep and I note that his blonde hair curls with sweat. There’s a streak of flour on his cheek and an apron tied around his waist.

“It’s Ms. Everdeen,” I correct him. It’s out before I can stop myself and as soon as I say it I want to bite my own tongue off. How pretentious I must sound. It's only after Prim has begun ordering a sugar-dusted fruit tart from the case that I realize with a start that the baker's boy knows my name.

His face is flushed and pink when he turns his eyes to me.

“I'll take four of those cookies,” I get out. “The orange lilies.” My voice sounds weaker than normal. I hate this. I feel fragile under this boy’s gaze. And that's when I realize: he must be waiting for his thank you. For the bread that he burned and took a beating for. But I can't do it, either because Prim is with me and it would confuse her and probably embarrass the boy, or because it's been five years and the time for ‘thank you’ is over. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe he doesn't remember. He probably only knows my name because it was a source of gossip around town when Haymitch adopted Prim and I. He must remember me from then.

He gives me a timid smile, deftly wraps the cookies in parchment paper, ties them securely with a piece of fringed twine, and hands the package to me. I suddenly feel the need to fill the silence so I blurt: “They’re beautiful. The cookies.”

He manages to turn a shade pinker. “Thank you, I do most of the frosting around here. I made those this morning.” As I hand him the money for the treats, I assume that's it. That was the end of our conversation. But my tongue is moving again.

“They look just like the lilies in the woods. I see them on my morning walks.”

“Yes, exactly,” He grins and reveals a charming set of dimples. “I’ve seen them when I go to the woods to paint.”

I don't know what else to say and Prim has started tugging on my hand. She’s probably anxious to get home so we can enjoy our treats with tea, so I give him one last look and utter one last thank you before heading back out into the crowded square.

“Do you know him?” Prim asks as we begin walking towards home.

“No,” I say, a little relieved to be leaving. I can't catch my breath and my heart is racing like it does when something frightens me. “I don't even know his name.”

“Well, I've never seen you be that talkative with a stranger.” She beams. “Wait until I tell Mrs. Winthrop!”

Is that what he is to me? A stranger? I shake the thought from my head.

He knew my name. The very least I can do is learn his.

#thg #The Hunger Games #thg fanfic #everlark #katniss everdeen #Peeta Mellark #haymitch abernathy #gale hawthorne #everlark fluff #jane austen au #pride and predujice #regency #regency au #everlark fanfiction #everlark fanfic #finnick odair

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hockeysweetheart · 4 years

Text

catching fire chapter 18

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?

Catching fire Chapter 24

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.

“Where Peeta’s child could be safe” Okay in this moment Peeta basically told her before the her family needs her. But Katniss is like still going with the fact it should be Peeta coming out alive not me type of thing. But it’s like in that moment well Peeta already freaking annoused that we are expecting maybe it wont be so bad but as long as Snow is in power. I wont bring kids into this world.

Mockingjay... 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:

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.

Okay I want too add here. Yes it did take time. But if you your good friend sister and a shit load of people were killed and with your Man hijacked in recovering still and your district you got sent back to is still bombed at the end of the war ( not touched during the war). would you expect them to pop one out shortly after. Katniss needed time to heal and to come to realize that yes Snow or Coin cannot harm her children. But we don’t what Paylor would do. Right when Katniss thought it was safe enough to bring her kids into this world she did. Also 15 years to greif 15 years to get Peeta to herself. 15 years for them to grow 15 years to remind Peeta why she loved him and new reasons too. 15 years to build up district 12 again. 15 years of loving each other. 15 years of fear and stress but you do it day by day...

Also katniss dreamed about the day

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.

#thg #Peeta Mellark #Peeta #katniss everdeen #Katniss #everlark #The Hunger Games #Hunger Games #CatchingFire #catching fire #mockingjay #katniss and peeta #everlark children

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aimmyarrowshigh · 1 year

Note

hey, it’s the anon from the other day! thanks so much for the link & sorry to bug you again! i remember reading a hunger game fic by you that was a sort of retelling of cinderella through the lens of Johanna Mason & another series that was centered on Cinna; if those were by you, are they still available anywhere? also, just wanna say you’re one of my fave fic writers ever!! :)

Yep, that's on AO3 -- The Five Places Cinna Came From. :) Thanks for asking! You're talking specifically about District Seven: The Moral of the Story. I'm glad you liked it!

#asks #fandom #fanfiction #my fic #five places cinna came from

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that-otome-potato · 5 years

Text

Homecoming

I don’t know how this happened. I was looking for something written by Dear-Mrs-Otome and BAM! I saw a piece of beautiful art by Wingcinna that I’ve seen and practically worshiped a time or two. But this time, words came with my admiration of the artwork. So this is in honor of Cinna’s birthday (a day or two late, sorry!) Everyone reading this should go to her page and take a look! Not only is she an amazing artist, but a beautiful person. She’s always so nice and answers so many of peoples questions and comments.

Long-haired Kansuke by @wingcinna

@masamunesmistress @calicocrest

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*“I will return soon.”

That was the last thing he said to you, with his version of a smile, as he left Tsutsujigasaki, six months ago.

Two weeks after he left the palace, Lord Shingen had come to you to tell you he had received word that Kansuke had been captured and imprisoned.

How could this be? He was a talented ninja and so silent that rare was it anyone ever saw him. There were only a hand full of people who ever remembered him after seeing him once. It was like seeing someone in a crowded market - there and forgotten.

But not to you.

To you, he was your world, your silent ninja.

The only reason you could think of that he would have gotten caught while on a mission was either that he had done so intentionally to get further into the castle, or there was an equally talented ninja there that found him. One was understandable, the other was a surprise.

Every night, you prayed to whatever God would listen, that he be brought back safely to you. Even after six months, you refused to give up hope that he would return. Couldn’t give up hope because the idea of him being so far out of reach you couldn’t get to him was unacceptable.

Then, one day as you were walking past Lord Shingen’s room with laundry in hand, you heard the Lord of the Takeda talking to someone. His words were a low rumble like thunder from a summer storm. The person he was talking to then replied and the sound of his voice was like a balm on your soul.

You wanted to run into Lord Shingen’s chambers right then and there, but your feet wouldn’t move and your hands were shaking. Was he back?

You didn’t know what to think, so you managed to hurry along to where the laundry in your hands needed to go, then went straight to Kansuke’s room.

Five months had passed since you had last entered his room. Originally, you had gone there because it smelled of him - dried herbs and tinctures with a pinch of mint. But after a while, it hurt too much to go there again because you never knew if or when he would return.

Now, it seemed as if you were the only one to have entered because everything about the barren room was the same. Every tonic and tincture was in its place, his medicine chest still to one side. His bedding on the other and off the floor. It was as if the room had been cut off from time ever since he’d been gone.

You decided to sit next to his medicine chest, back straight and knees together as you sat properly facing the door to await his return.

It wasn’t long before you heard a whisper of movement that only meant one thing: It was him!

You watched the door open and close silently as a thick cloud passed over head to cast the portal to the outside in shadow. Though the light in the room remained low even after the cloud had passed, you could see him standing there just inside the door. It took everything in you not to jump to your feet and launch yourself at him.

Slow steps took you to him, and him to you, meeting in the middle and wrapping your arms around each other. Gripping his kimono tight, you could tell he had lost some weight and muscle tone, but he still smelled the same, felt the same when he tightened his arms around you in return. Without warning, he slowly goes to his knees to sit and you do the same, not wanting to be out of his grasp just yet.

That is when you get a good look at him in the light.

He looks so tired. Dark circles under his eyes as if he hasn’t slept in ages. His usually well kept hair, now slightly wavy and down to his shoulders and in many different lengths - as if someone had tried to trim his hair in chunks as it grew too long. But the warmth in his eyes and the slight turn of his lips in his smile didn’t change and it made you smile in return.

You cup the side of his neck and trace his strong jaw with the pads of your thumbs, unable to look away from his plum-colored gaze you had missed so much.

“Is it really you?” You could hear tears you hadn’t shed in six months gathering at the back of your throat as you continue rubbing your thumbs along his jaw and cheek.

His smile only grows as he brings his bandaged hands up to cover your hands now cupping his cheeks. Your eyes are drawn from his to his hands. Just as you’re about to ask what happened, he replies, “It’s really me. I have returned, miss.”

He redirected your attention to him with a tug on your hands, pulling you into a gentle kiss. Gentle it may have been, but he had a way of passing heat to you through the contact that warmed you all the way to your toes and the tips of your fingers. Your mind faded to nothing as the kiss continued, both of you just enjoying the contact and the proof that he was alive and back in your arms.

Right where you both wanted him to be.

#yamamoto kansuke #slbp kansuke #my work #my words #not my art

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kriscme · 5 years

Text

One Life To Live

Chapter 21 “” Exploring the Appalachian Trail”, “How to Hike the Appalachian Trail,” “Appalachian Trail Guide”, “Lost on the Appalachian Trail.”” Johanna looks up from the pile of books she’s rifling through. “Why would he want that one? Isn’t the idea not to get lost?” she asks, shaking her head. “Oh wait, this one really takes the cake. “How to Shit in the Woods.” Why would you need a book for that? I can condense it into two words. Squat, shit. It’s not that hard.” “I’d hope you’d take your pants down first,” I say dryly. “Maybe you do need a book. I’d hate to be downwind. Seriously though, it’s about protecting the waterways from contamination. It used to be a problem in the old days.” Johanna makes a face at me and tosses the book back with the others. “Careful,” I caution. “These books are really old. Marcus wouldn’t like it if they got damaged.” I remove the books from Johanna’s reach and place them back on the side table. Marcus has loaned them to me to read. They are from the Capitol library and are irreplaceable. Johanna shrugs and turns her attention to picking at her cuticles. She’s a nail biter like me.

Johanna is easily bored. Restless, always looking for something to do. I think it’s a coping mechanism of hers. An active mind keeps it from dwelling on other things. “Dinner should be ready soon,” I say. “You came over at the right time. Marcus is a really good cook.” I can hear him moving about in the kitchen. He’s taken over the cooking since he moved in. I think he likes to be in control over what’s served up. He’s a vegetarian, which means he doesn’t eat meat. It’s the oddest thing I’ve ever heard of, but so far, I haven’t missed meat with my evening meals. And since he’s doing the cooking, I can’t complain. Besides, a takeaway restaurant has just opened not far from the school. It makes the juiciest, meatiest hamburgers you can imagine. I have one for lunch most days. “Vegetarian, I suppose,” says Johanna without enthusiasm. “What is it tonight? Curried tofu?” “Actually, I think it is,” I say. The aroma emanating from the kitchen suggests that it could be. “You should have stayed with Peeta if you don’t like vegetarian. He’s at home, isn’t he? I saw Lace come through the village gates about an hour ago. Don’t tell me they kicked you out?” “No,” replies Johanna with an annoyed expression. “It was my idea. I just couldn’t stand it. The two of them are so boring together. All they talk about is the wedding. When I left them, they were in a serious discussion about what colour the napkins should be for the reception. Who cares about fucking napkins?” “Obviously, they do,” I reply. “Peeta’s always been a romantic. He’d want everything to be perfect for his big day.” “Yeah, but it’s still only one day. What happens on the day after that? And then the day after that? I don’t think those fools have thought beyond the wedding. Did you know that Haymitch and Peeta got into an argument about his and Lace’s plans for the future? Would you believe they don’t have any?” “Don’t they? Well, they must have thought about it since, because Peeta told me of them the other day. He wants to open his own bakery, have five kids, and Lace will work from home so she can take care of them.” Johanna snorts dismissively. “And how do you think that will work out?” I shrug helplessly. It perfectly sums up how I feel about all things related to Peeta lately. “It probably won’t. Peeta loves his job at Carters. It wouldn’t surprise me if they make him a partner at some point. If he opens his own bakery, he’d just be taking on a responsibility he doesn’t want. It would put him in competition with the Carters too. As for Lace, it’s a big comedown if she swaps her shop to working at home. She moved to a foreign district, and even lied about her origins, to own her own shop. And how on Earth do you get any work done with five kids, anyway?” I imagine five little Peetas, all ashy blond hair and bright blue eyes, running around the village, playing and laughing. It’s awful how much that hurts – the thought of Peeta and Lace having children together. I don’t know if I want children, but if I did, I’d want them with Peeta. “It sounds like it was pulled out of their arse,” says Johanna contemptuously. Suddenly she sits up straight. “Wait, what did you mean about Lace lying about her origins?” “Oh, nothing really serious. Lace should have told Peeta about it by now. Her family was falsely suspected of colluding with the Capitol, and something Lace did led to it. She changed her name and lied about her social status when she came here, so rumors wouldn’t follow her, I guess. Said she was a factory worker when she’s really from the owner class. I found out about it when I was in 8 recently. Only Haymitch and I know. And Arthur, who’s an old friend of hers.” “The same Arthur I met in the pub?” Johanna asks. “Yes, that’s him. He’s been in love with Lace since they were children. Poor man, I think it might be even worse for him than it is for me. He’s had to watch Lace in love with two men now. And Lace doesn’t seem to have a clue how he feels about her.” I pause here, because on reflection I’m not so sure that she’s not. It’s just that she’s got used to it. Takes it for granted. It occurs to me that Lace and I might have more in common than I thought.

“She’s possessive about him though,” I continue. “I don’t think she likes the idea of him being with another. Too used to his attention focused on her, I guess.”

Johanna settles back into her chair, her brow creased in thought. “Interesting,” she says. “What’s interesting?” I ask suspiciously. Johanna has her scheming face on. “Oh, nothing in particular. I was just thinking about Arthur. Still waters run deep sort of thing.” “Right,” I say, unconvinced.

Johanna goes back to examining her cuticles. “I’ve been watching the tapes Aurelius sends. Haymitch thought I’d add another perspective and Peeta agreed. There’s more of the Quell stuff now.” A grin spreads across her face. “He sent the part where I slapped you across the face.” Evidently the thought of it gives her pleasure. “Then there was a lot of explaining about which of us knew about the plot to get you and Peeta out, and what went wrong. Peeta got mad at Haymitch all over again. But we figure it’s a positive thing. Emotions will come with the memories and they all have to be worked through.” “Yeah, I guess,” I say. A shame it’s not always the emotions you want. Not when it comes to me, anyway. “Was there anything else?” “Just that TV special with you modelling wedding gowns for the public to vote on.” My mind travels back to that day. The day of the photo shoot. I had to model six gowns, each with their own headpiece, jewelry, makeup and hair style. It was tedious and exhausting work, made even more so because I didn’t want to be a bride. “What did Peeta say?” “Not much,” says Johanna. “He just said he remembered how much you hated it, that’s all. He didn’t have any questions.” I say nothing. What is there to say? He’s right. I hated it. I can just imagine what he must have been thinking as he watched it. My unwillingness compared to Lace’s happiness and excitement. She would have loved doing the photo shoot. Trying on all those Cinna designed gowns. And then the prospect of marrying Peeta.

For a while now, I’ve been questioning Dr Aurelius’ choice when it comes to the tapes. In almost everything he sends; I seem to be either hostile or indifferent towards Peeta. Or I’m acting, or it’s ambiguous, like the date on the roof. There’s been not one tape that shows genuine romantic love between us. I don’t take it personally. I know this isn’t about me, and Peeta is the patient. But there must a reason why he’s sent the tapes he has. Surely, with the wedding not far off, Dr Aurelius could see the urgency of speeding the process up. As far as I can see, there could be only one reason for his choices, and why he’s avoided anything that could really challenge Peeta’s misconceptions. And it’s because Peeta couldn’t handle it. Deep down, he doesn’t want to know. That’s why he interprets the way he does – always on the side of my not having any romantic feelings about him. Perhaps the knowledge would cause a serious mental breakdown. So serious, that they’ll have to strap him to a gurney again with hypodermic syringes at the ready when I’m in his presence. I have to remember what the hijacking made him believe. That I was a mutt, a malevolent being that harmed everything it touched. That he considers me a friend is an enormous improvement on that.

Maybe I’ve been stupidly unrealistic to hope that Peeta could ever feel the same way about me. That’s why Dr Aurelius has been encouraging me to make a life for myself outside of Peeta, and to make new relationships. Patient confidentiality prevents him from telling me what’s really going on in Peeta’s mind, but he’s been giving me clues nonetheless. I’ve just failed to see them. It’s been in the tapes he sends – tapes he knew that I watched too and could see how Peeta reacted to them. Perhaps he’s been telling me that I need to accept that Peeta is lost to me forever and I should make a new life. The more I think of it, the more I’m convinced. The best anyone can hope for is that he regains enough memories to enable him to enter into this marriage with a clearer sense of who he is. My train of thought is interrupted when Marcus enters the room carrying a large tureen. He places it at the center of the dining table, alongside a bowl of salad greens and a basket of soft rolls. It smells delicious and, despite Johanna’s disdain for vegetarian food, she’s first to be seated at the table. Chunks of tofu bathed in a sauce of aromatic spices and coconut milk on a bed of wild rice. I serve myself a generous portion but I’m too heartsick to really enjoy it. Neither Marcus or Johanna seem to pick up on it. They’re in a lively debate about the merit of using stunts to attract publicity for the cause, such as stripping naked and chaining oneself to a tree. “Aha!” shouts Johanna in triumph, “So, you did notice.” Marcus shrugs and gives her an amused smile. “Hard not to,” he says. For dessert there’s dried plums stewed in sweet wine and cinnamon and topped with heavy cream. “Prunes,” says Johanna. “What?” I ask. “Dried plums used to be called prunes. They changed the name for marketing purposes because of the association with old people. It was to help them shit.” “They should have had a book,” I say, unable to keep my lips from twitching. “Yeah,” laughs Johanna. Marcus looks from me to Johanna and then back again, his eyes questioning. “Never mind, “says Johanna. “Inside joke.” She turns back to me. “So, are we going to the pub tonight?” “Um, I hadn’t really thought about it,” I reply evasively. I’m lying. I had thought about it and then decided against it even though it’s a Saturday night and it’s what we usually do. It’s just that Johanna and Max had an altercation last time and I don’t want any more trouble. It was over Max referring to Peeta as “psycho boy”. I reminded Johanna that she’s called Peeta the evil mutt version of himself and that she’s no better. But according to Johanna, it’s different because she’s family. “Don’t worry, I’ll behave,” says Johanna, in a tone she probably thinks is reassuring but really isn’t. “I promise. No more public scenes. So, are we going?” Marcus and I exchange glances. He gives his head a slight nod and I turn back to Johanna. “All right.” I still have misgivings, but it doesn’t do me good to stay home and mope. “Good. I’ll just race over to Peeta’s to grab my coat while you two clean up. I’ll meet you at the gates in twenty minutes.” Marcus collects the plates and cutlery while I reach for the tureen. “I’ll take care of the dishes,” he says. “Why don’t you get yourself ready? This won’t take long.” “OK,” I say, “But I’m doing all the dishes tomorrow.” Marcus is so nice. The easiest, most unobtrusive house guest you can imagine. Helps out with the housework, knows when to talk, and when not to. Even Buttercup likes him, and he’s not a cat that takes kindly to strangers. I trek upstairs to change my clothes for something more suitable than the track pants and baggy sweater I’m wearing. I settle for black pants in a stretchy velvet-like fabric and a deep-red long-sleeved shirt. A light make-up and a brush of my hair and I’m done. Marcus is already at the door, jacket on, the hall light picking out the golden notes in his hair. “You look great,” he tells me, with a warm smile. “You should wear red more often. It suits you.” Suddenly I’m transported back to another time, another place. Marcus has disappeared, and there stands sixteen-year-old Peeta, in the black unitard and cape of fluttering steamers we wore for the tributes parade. “You should wear flames more often,” he had said. “They suit you,” And then he gave me a smile so genuinely sweet and with just the right touch of shyness. The memory must cause something to change in my face, something fond and nostalgic, because when Marcus reappears, there’s a different light in his eyes and I find myself blushing. Why, I don’t know. “Thanks,” I mumble, turning away to reach for my coat from the hall stand. We walk the short distance to the Village gates where Johanna should be waiting for us. She is. But she’s not alone. Peeta and Lace are there too.

“I asked them if they’d like to join us,” she explains. “They were going into town anyway, so I thought we could all go in together and have a drink.” “I hope it’s alright,” says Peeta. His eyes travel between Marcus and me. “Of course,” I say with false brightness. The last thing I want is an evening in Peeta and Lace’s company and having to watch them with their hands all over each other. “It will be fun.” Walking five abreast proves awkward, and we separate into two groups with Marcus and me walking ahead. To get more distance between us, I quicken my pace slightly until we’re just out of conversation range. I don’t want to listen to the happy couple cooing at each other. But rather than giving them their space, Johanna has chosen to hang back to walk with them rather that out in front with Marcus and me. I turn my head to see what she’s up to, and she’s at Peeta’s side, chatting away. She has one hand to the side of her mouth, as if she’s telling secrets. Their eyes are on me, and I know I’m being talked about. Since there’s little I can do without causing a fuss, I turn my attention back to the road and to what Marcus is saying. “. . . a lake about half a day’s walk from here. I think it’s worth exploring in detail. What do you say to a two or three-day camp? We’d be back in time for your teaching job.” A lake. That must be my lake. The lake where my father taught me to swim. A place I never wanted to share, even with Gale. A place that belonged only to my father and me. It’s not unexpected. Marcus was bound to get to it sooner or later. But hearing about it now, with the physical reminder of an even greater loss close by, it’s almost too much to take. “Sure, “I tell him, with a wan smile. “There’s a concrete hut with a hearth. We can shelter in that.” I bite my lip to keep the tears at bay. Feeling sorry for myself won’t help. But I want so much to turn heel and go home. But I can’t. Not without some plausible excuse and I can’t think of one. So I keep walking, one foot after the other, and take comfort that in a few hours my steps will be taking me in the opposite direction towards home, and this horrible night will soon be over.

I’m surprised when Marcus takes me by the hand. I recognize that he’s reaching out in sympathy, even though he doesn’t know the half of it. His hand is warm and comforting. It’s been so long since anyone touched me like this, with any real consciousness behind it, and I clasp hold of his hand in same way I clung to Peeta on those nights on the train. As a bulwark against dangers that could descend at any moment.

When we arrive at our destination, Marcus and I wait at the door for the others to catch up. Lace is in a buoyant mood, but Peeta’s smile seems forced. As Johanna passes by, she pulls me aside. “That was brilliant,” she whispers. “Keep it up.”

“Keep what up?” But Johanna is already through the door and doesn’t hear me.

It’s noisy inside, and crowded, but we manage to find a table that will seat all of us. I spy Max and Arthur at the bar, and I raise an arm to attract their attention. Max nudges Arthur to follow him, but hesitates when he sees Johanna. Johanna responds with a devilish grin, but then dips her head towards Peeta. No one is fighting over Peeta tonight. Not while Peeta’s here. And that’s at least one thing I don’t have to worry about.

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awed-frog · 5 years

Text

in which caesar doesn’t do anything much and all the women are named julia

[Hi, this is me stanning Adrian Goldsworthy’s biography of Caesar. I studied Classics, but not this period, so all I can contribute here are squeals of delight, a few mistakes and the occasional witty comment. If you’d like to know more, please buy the book - it’s really good and a fun read.]

PART 2

The thing is - there’s a lot of boring relevant political stuff going on in this chapter, but I’m mostly fascinated by the glimpses we get into the world of Roman women.

As I said, this is not really my area, so I know random, unconnected facts about how life was like for them; also it doesn’t make much sense to talk about ‘Roman women’, because, as a reminder, ‘Rome’ stretches from the 14th century BC to the 14th century AD, came to include dozens of very different regions, and obviously was home to an incredibly diverse population. And if we’re talking about the late Republican / imperial aristocracy, there’s a sharp divide anyway: on the one hand, the ‘ideal woman’ is the same old model we’re all used to and heard about (silent, obedient, virtuous, chaste, a perfect mother and so on), but on the other, Roman noblewomen had a lot more freedom than, say, their Greek counterparts, so there was usually some political scheming going on - something that in Greece was reserved to a handful of very well-placed courtesans.

(In this sense, think about the contrast between Lucretia, the mythological wife of Collatinus, whose fridging created the Republic, and Agrippina, mother of Nero, empress and all-round badass bitch.)

Anyway, this chapter made me think about women because it starts with Caesar being born and getting his name - it’s sort of an urban legend, btw, that every single Roman had three names: that was just for the Moste Noblest - and how Goldsworthy casually mentions that, unlike men, women of noble birth would just take their family surname as first name. In Caesar’s family, for instance, all the women were named Julia.

(As a reminder: his given name was Caius, then ‘Julius’ identified the tribe, and finally ‘Caesar’ was a nickname that was possibly given to his grandfather for something elephant-related.

People whose grandfathers did not do elephant-related stuff generally never enjoyed the prestige of a funny nickname passed down through the generations.)

So it’s bad enough that twins might be named ‘Peter and Not-Peter’ or ‘Peter and Twin’, but imagine going to the park with your buggy and meeting your old friend Oldest She-Jones (daughter of Ferdinand Jones), now married to George David Taylor, and her five kids - Louis David Taylor, She-Taylor, She-Taylor the Second, She-Taylor the Third and She-Taylor Born on Christmas. So damn cute, and also the reason why the Romans never developed smartphones or social media - how the hell are you supposed to find someone on Vultocodex when every single cousin and aunt has the exact same name?

Poor management, that is.

But anyway - as I said, there’s a dissonance here because women being treated like garbage (like, not given normal names and married off at fourteen) also led to the very peculiar phenomenon: generations of (male) politicians and VIPs being raised by very forceful, strong, and ambitious (widowed) mothers. Because if you count old age, wars, trampolining injuries (let’s be honest, men have always been obsessed with attempting dangerous stunts just for the fun of it) and the general risks of Roman politics, it was very usual for a noble kid to not even remember his father at all.

(Nero is a good example of how weird and all-consuming this boy-mother relationship could become - there’s entire books about it, but I’d point 16-and-over readers to Suetonius’ Life of Nero for details.

Keep in mind 95% of it is propaganda because Suetonius hated Nero, but still. HBO-worthy stuff in there.)

All this to say - we know that Caesar had a very close relationship with his mom (named ‘Aurelia’ because - you guessed it - she came from the Aurelii family), who was a near perfect figure of virtue, intelligence, beauty and common sense. Very powerful in her own right, Aurelia raised Caesar basically on her own, because her (much older) husband was either away at war or dead for most of their marriage.

Aside from drinking in Aurelia’s wisdom, Caesar’s education also included the normal lessons noble Roman boys were required to learn: self-worth, narcissism, delusional manias, rhetoric, martial arts, horse-riding, and writing really bad fanfiction based on Greek myths.

And now for the MEANWHILE part.

(I have no idea why this gif was tagged ‘meanwhile’, but I’m not enough of an idiot to let it go to waste, so.)

Meanwhile, all sort of messes were going on.

As I’m sure you remember, at some point the consul was Marius - Caesar’s uncle and a military genius, but not much of a politician. His negotiation tactic of choice was secretly inviting groups of unconnected people to his house on the same night, serving them dinner in two separate rooms so they wouldn’t see one another and try to work out some kind of agreement between them. Whenever a new point came up, Marius would say he had diarrhoea, pretend to run to the bathroom and instead sit down with the second group and see what they thought about the first group’s proposal.

(Isn’t ancient Rome magnificent?)

A big problem Marius had to deal with was how to grant citizenship to the allied tribes in Italy without pissing off current citizens. Basically no one wanted these other guys to be given new rights, but since they supplied more than half the soldiers of the Roman army and got nothing in return, their patience was running a bit thin. At some point, Roman bureaucrats started to erase foreign-born citizens from their lists claiming they were not actual citizens (something so openly dishonest NO OTHER GOVERNMENT would EVER attempt it again), and next yet another tribune working on a citizenship reform was stabbed to death in the street.

So the allies went to war.

(This war, confusingly, is known as the Social War, because ‘socius’ means ‘ally’ in Latin.)

As you can imagine, it was a disaster. Most of the allied communities had been part of the Roman republic for I don’t want to check but let’s say decades, they lived side by side with Roman families and fought in the same wars, so it was more of a civil war than anything else. Some tribes chose to remain faithful to Rome, others didn’t. Lots of people died.

Caesar was too young to be a soldier, but this was Cicero’s first taste of war (bet you never thought of that weaselly weasel as a soldier, uh? appearances can be deceiving, folks!). Marius was also involved, but since he was old as shit and had famously weak and leaky guts (hahahhaha), he mostly stayed out of active combat, which wasn’t all that normal for a Roman general. In the end, the whole of Italy, down to defeated tribes, cows, dogs and random patches of mossy rocks, was granted citizenship and everyone went home. Their votes, however, were inserted in the system in such a way that they didn’t count much.

On the whole, the one winner of this war was Lucius Cornelius Sulla, one of the military commanders, who became a consul soon after.

Another war, because this is Rome and Romans were dicks, but! this one was in the East, which means every single soldier would get super rich and also! wars in the East were considered easy because *insert racist trope here* and! Sulla had been promised that, as the big winner of the Social War, he could go there with his legions and basically enjoy this Disneyland of golden cups and ultraviolence but! at the last moment, Marius, who never liked Sulla much, managed to snatch the commandership from him, which! was completely legal but also *insert outraged emoji* and wait for it! instead of going gentle into the good night, Sulla made a fiery speech to his soldiers all like GUESS WHAT FOLKS WE’RE STUCK HERE SCRATCHING OUR TESTICULI AND THOSE IDIOTS FROM THE 25TH ARE TAKING YOUR GOLD AND YOUR UNWILLING WOMEN and! Sulla’s entire army marched! on! the! city! of! Rome!

It was the first time a Roman army had ever invaded Rome. Nobody was expecting it, and people panicked. Sulla’s men won easily, burned down some buildings, killed some people, generally had a great time; and then Sulla announced a bounty for anyone who’d disembowel his political enemies (including Marius) because he didn’t have time to go to Braavos and learn how to do it himself (remember, he still had his war waiting for him in the East).

(This turned out to be a success, btw. One guy was even killed by his slave - Sulla gave him the promised reward, then shoved him off a mountain because duh, slave and “When I said ‘anyone’, I meant people, not IKEA furniture” and “Honestly”.)

As nobody could have imagined and/or predicted, as soon as Sulla left for Greece Weak Guts Marius came back with an army and took back the city, beheading his way to the Senate and leaving a trail of blood wherever he passed. As soon as he got there, however, he dropped dead - heart attack, trampolining, diarrhoea, who can tell - and the city was taken over by his second-in-command, Lucius Cornelius Cinna.

(Man, what a ride.)

Unfortunately, it’s impossible to know what Caesar was doing during this time.

Personally, I like to imagine him in Rome - a well-dressed, grey-eyed 15-year-old, freshly orphaned, horrified and exhilarated by the violence exploding all around him - I see him running down the streets, stopping to watch the corpses float in the dark waters of the Tiber, daring his friends to go and touch the severed heads nailed to the doors of the Senate; recognizing many of those heads as friends and colleagues of his father and uncle (passing a hesitant finger on the cold flesh, remembering how they’d once laughed and frowned and spoken about boring matters from the dais).

The truth is, Caesar was just a kid. He was supposed to learn about the Republic, and his own role in making it great, by watching his elders.

God knows what he actually learned, and what he thought, as he was passing through Rome’s paved streets, now shimmering with blood.

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#julius caesar #ancient rome #history #classics #antiquity #adrian goldsworthy #book rec #history crack #sort of #elephant boy #problematic fave

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ellanainthetardis · 6 years

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Prompt (only if you're still taking them ofc): Effie embarrasses herself pre-Mockingjay and Haymitch tries to calm her down (maybe with Cinna there too just bc i love Cinna) :)

Here you go! [x]

One For The Gag-Reel

“I cannot wait forthis dreadful Tour to be over!” Effiesnapped, her cheeks still burning red. She limped to the closest armchair andsat down with relief, immediately folding her right leg over her left so shecould get a good look at her ankle.

“But we’rehaving so much fun…” Haymitch drawled out. Without any sympathy. As usual. He went straight to the liquor cart and shesupposed she should have been gratefulhe hadn’t headed directly to the train’s bar car.

She pursed herlips and glared at his back.

“It’s not that bad.”Katniss offered, dropping on the couch.

Humiliating.

It was humiliating.

“Not that bad?”she hissed. “You are aware this willprobably go into the gag reel, aren’t you? Everyone will watch me fall downthose stairs on a loop and laugh.”

“It was funny.”Haymitch snorted, taking off his jacket and tossing it on the back of thecouch. “That little screech you made? Comedygold.”

“The important thing is that you didn’t really gethurt.” Peeta commented, not unkindly, as he sat on Katniss’ other side.

“It truly wasn’tthat bad, darling.” Portia swore. “I doubt the cameras had a good angle…”

“You are sweet but the cameras were aimed straight atthe flight of stairs I missed.” she retorted. She undid the buckle of the shoeand rotated her ankle a few times. There was an unmistakable pinch. “Damn shoes!”

“Told you they would kill you.” Haymitch taunted fromthe cart where he was doing who knew what. How long did it take to pour oneselfa drink? And really was it too muchto expect for him to do the polite thing and offer everyone one?

“I am so sorry, Effie.” Cinna winced. “I designedthose heels..”

“Oh, it is fine…” she sighed, a little subdued by thatapology. “It was the stairs… The stairs were faulty.”

“She should have told Six’s mayor.” Katniss mutteredto Peeta under her breath. “I’m sure he would have liked to know.”

Effie pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at thechildren.

“Here’s some ice.” Haymitch declared before she couldtell the girl off for being insensitive to her pain. “Quit bitching now.”

She was genuinely surprised when he placed ice cubeswrapped in a cloth around her ankle. He hadn’t been fixing himself a glass then,after all. It made her feel guilty and she gave him an apologetic look that hedismissed with a roll of his eyes.

She was not really angry anyway.

Simply…

Well. Humiliated.She couldn’t even tell how it had happened. One minute she was walking up thestairs next to Haymitch, the next she was falling all the way back down. Sheremembered having made a desperate grab for him, she remembered he had tried tocatch her… Then she was sliding down the stairs on her side. Everyone rushed toher naturally. The Mayor, the kids, Cinna and Portia… Even Haymitch had beennext to her in a flash, asking if she was alright before defusing the tensionwith a joke…

She had laughed along and she had smiled for thecameras but she hadn’t been able to relax all dinner, fixated on the fact thatthe whole country had seen that fall and that it would probably play on repeatfor days. The simple thought wasenough to make her flush again.

The children didn’t linger long in the living-room andPortia, after making sure she was alright, followed them down the corridor,declaring she wanted to get as much sleep as possible before they reached Five.Effie could understand that. They were all tired and stressed out. She wouldn’thave fallen down the stairs if she hadn’t been tired and stressed out.

The ice made her skin numb and she moved the makeshiftpack around a little, wincing when she caught sight of her ankle.

“Oh.” Cinna made a face, crouching next to herarmchair and lifting the ice pack to get a closer look. “That doesn’t lookgood…”

“What?” Haymitch asked from the other side of the roomwhere, this time, he was fixinghimself a drink.

“It’s swollen.” the stylist said. “I think you mightneed a doctor…”

“It is simply a sprain. Nothing I cannot handle.” shesighed.

Haymitch took a sip of his drink on his way to herarmchair and handed it to her for safekeeping. He carefully coiled one handaround her ankle and placed his other one of her foot. He slowly made her footturn one way and then the other…

She had half a mind to ask him if he had gotten amedical degree while she wasn’t looking…

“Shit,sweetheart, it does look bad.” hefrowned, a bit sheepish. Probably because he had been making fun of her nonstopsince it had happened.

“I will keep it wrapped until we have to go on cameratomorrow.” she sighed, glancing at Cinna with a pout. “I was supposed to wearthe red heels in Five but I think they might be too high now. Do you think wemight switch for the black ones? They are less impressive but they are alsomore comfortable.”

“You’re joking.” Haymitch scoffed, gently rubbing histhumb on the swollen part of her ankle. “You shouldn’t put weight on that foot.Never mind wearing those death traps.”

“Oh, don’t you worry. I went down the catwalk withmore serious injuries than this.” she dismissed. “Sprains are a model’s lot.”

“I will go see what we can do for your outfit.” Cinnapromised. “We’ll make you look so fabulous nobody will remember what happenedtonight.”

“I doubt that but I thank you.” she smiled, squeezinghis hand when he placed it on her shoulder. “Goodnight, dear.”

Once the sliding door had automatically closed behindthe stylist, Effie slouched a little in the armchair, losing her regal bearingand wincing at the pain in her side. She only hesitated a short moment beforefinishing Haymitch’s whiskey. The taste was awful but she hoped the alcoholwould help her relax.

He tossed her an annoyed look when he saw what she haddone but didn’t comment, still busy inspecting her ankle as if he could heal itjust with his willpower.

“I hate totrouble you but would you terriblymind helping me to my room?” she asked.

“You hate to trouble me?” he snorted, openly mocking.“Since when?”

She pouted. “I was simplybeing polite.”

“See, you sayyou’re being polite but that’s just a covert way to be bossy.” he accused,outstretching a hand to help her up. “Come on, I’ll carry you. Should have saidit was that bad. Wouldn’t have letyou walk all the way from the Justice Building to the train.”

“I told youI was in pain.” she argued.

“No. You told me it was a disaster ‘cause everyone’dbe laughing at you.” he objected, rolling his eyes. “You said you were fine.”

“Well, I was not about to admit being hurt through myown clumsiness on national TV.” she retorted, wrapping her arms around hisneck. She held her breath when he picked her up, pain flaring on her right sidebut she clenched her jaw and pressed her forehead against his shoulder.

“What now?” he grumbled. “You’re okay?”

“Bruised.” she breathed out slowly.

He didn’t answer but his expression grew a little darkerand he hurried down the corridors and to her bedroom. He was careful when heplaced her down on the bed and she was grateful he didn’t toss her like hesometimes did when he fancied himself a funny man.

“Where’s the first aid kit?” he asked, alreadyrummaging in the cupboard of her en-suited bathroom. “Never mind. Found it.”

There were more sounds of things being moved around.She supposed he was looking for the right salve.

She did a quick job of getting rid of her remainingshoe and of the dress. Then she stood up and hopped to the full-length mirrorscrewed on the wardrobe door. And she made a face.

There were angry looking bruises on her right sidefrom her ribs to her mid-thigh.

“You shouldn’t be up…” Haymitch started scolding as hecame back in the bedroom only to do a double take. “Holy shit.”

Before she really understood what was going on, he hadher sitting down on the bed and he was running his palm all over the bruisedarea, sometimes pressing a little too hard for comfort. There was a frantic,almost panicked look in his eyes and it took her a few minutes to figure outwhat was wrong.

“I am fine,Haymitch.” she promised.

“You’re lucky you didn’t crack your ribs.” hemuttered. “Shit. You should have saidit was that bad.”

“I honestly did not know.” she sighed. “And the factyou are distressed do not excuse your language.”

“Ain’t distressed.I don’t care if you go and break your neck.” he grumbled, picking up the smalljar he had found in the bathroom.

She tried to take it from him but he batted her handaway. It seemed he was determined to take care of her injuries himself so shelet him, relaxing because as strong as his hands were – and there were strong – they could be extremelytender when he wanted them to.

He was only satisfied when her side was entirely coated with cream. He rubbed a generousamount on her ankle too and watched, apparently fascinated, when she expertlywrapped it tight.

He lifted his eyebrows. “How often have you donethat?”

“I told you. Sprains… It is a common thing.” sheshrugged. “I have been wearing heels since I was ten. It is bound to happen.”

He stared at her and then shook his head, standing upfrom the bed to get rid of his own clothes. “But you still wear them. You’recrazy.”

She huffed but didn’t rise to that bait. She watchedhim discard his waistcoat on the chair in the corner before kicking his shoesagainst the wall…

“I do not remember inviting you to stay tonight.” shescorned, a little vexed by his name-calling.

“Thought it was an open invitation thing…” he smirked,glancing at her over his shoulder before ripping the tie off his neck andtossing it on top of the waistcoat. The shirt and the pants didn’t get thatfar, they remained on a heap on the floor, prompting her to press her lips in ahard disapproving line. Not that he cared.

“Perhaps you thought wrong.” she hummed, unclaspingher bra and slipping her panties off. She had to use the bathroom anyway so shepointedly hopped to the clothes hamper to drop her dirty laundry.

He was usually more receptive to her naked self – evenif she was hopping around – but his grey eyes remained on the bruises marringher pale skin. And they were hard.

She rethought her original plan of going into thebathroom and limped closer to him, locking her arms around his neck. His handshovered uncertainly next to her hips before settling at the small of her back.She wasn’t sure she liked the way he was touching her, as if she was abreakable fragile thing. He never touched her like that.

“You know Imark easily.” she reminded him. “It looks more impressive than it is. It doesnot even hurt that much.”

“Yeah.” he granted, brushing his knuckles along theline of her spine. “Just don’t like seeing you hurt.”

She smiled and raised on tip toes – balanced on heronly good foot – to kiss him.

She didn’t make the mistake of telling him she thoughthe was being sweet but she hoped she made herself clear anyway.

#hayffie #effie trinket #haymitch abernathy #prompt #victory tour #funny one #hurt comfort #hbic effie #protective haymitch #coconuts friends #injuries #the kids #the stylists

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storyteller15 · 5 years

Text

Selectiontale Side Story: A Valentine To Remember

Hi, guys! Happy Valentine’s day from me and Cinna! Enjoy another side-story about Zefie’s best friend, Bethany! Enjoy!

Valentine’s Day, a holiday where it’s all about celebrating the meaning of love with those we hold dear. A day favored mostly by girls; except for a shrew like me.

When the crack of sunlight hit my eyelids, I forced one eye open and grimaced at my window. The typical sounds of birds chirping, and the waves crashing on the shore in the distance weren’t enough to make me forget that Valentine’s Day is today. I turned my body over under the sheets.

My plan to celebrate the fourteenth was to skip school and sleep in. Instead, I still have to go and endure all this lovey-dovey crap. But everyone knows that Valentine’s Day isn’t a public holiday. So, everyone still has to go to work and school.

Usually, I’d spend this day with my best friend, Zefie, doing nothing but waste time at the Sapphire Sea Café while she worked. Unfortunately, that’s not gonna happen this year. After she was chosen to enter the Selection, I have nobody to waste time with for today’s event.

I know I’m usually laid-back and don’t give a damn on what I gotta do, but today? I can’t take it! It fucking sucks!

Three loud knocks suddenly echoed throughout my room. My body jumped. Oh, no . . .

“Beth, time to get up! You’ll be late for school if you continue to sulk in bed!” Mom‘s voice barked from the other side.

“But what if I wanna sulk in bed?!” I whined as I pulled the sheets over my head.

“That’s what you say every year when Valentine’s Day comes up,” She remarks in a teasing tone. “But you and I both know the answer to that, missy. I want you out of bed in five minutes, all dressed and eating breakfast at the table. Now.”

I raised my head up from my pillow and groaned. “Fiiiiiiine.”

I kicked the sheets off my body, swinging my legs over the bed and stretched. I let out an exasperated groan.

Ugh . . . Five seconds off my bed, and I already hate this day.

I unplugged my iPhone 7 from its charger before the screen flashes on. Checking my phone is always a habit of mine, especially when I always feel anticipated for any texts from Zefie. Five unread messages, all from her and I’m beaming. I waste no time finding my clothes for today, stripping off my pajamas and slipped them on. Like always, I brushed the tangles out of my hair and tied it into a ponytail—presentable enough to not have my mom nagging about my bed hair.

Just as I leave my room, the smell of my mom’s homemade croissant seemed to have boosted my energy of going through this horrifying day. I make my way into the kitchen, taking my seat over at the table where a plate of two steaming hot croissants waited. I waste no time on tackling the first one, stuffing it with Nutella. This hazelnut, chocolatey goodness is heaven to my tongue!

When I saw a bouquet of fresh peonies over the island counter, I held back an eye roll. They were tied and assorted professionally in a pink bow as they bunched up in a crystal vase filled with water. Dad knows better than to get Mom roses, she thinks they’re clichè. At least he remembers that she loves peonies.

“Just on time,” Mom chirped without looking over her shoulder. “I figured you’d come out of your bat cave if I baked my famous homemade croissants. Your scrambled eggs are almost done by the way.”

I chuckled. “Thanks, Mom.”

I took a few gulps of my orange juice before I began to munch down my second crescent-shaped pastry into my mouth. It wasn’t long before Mom came over with my eggs, placing a kiss over my forehead before taking her seat across from me. Over to my left was an empty chair—Dad’s usual spot when he’s not always working too early, and too late.

He mentioned that he had to leave for work early. Dad and the other officers got a lot to do in their hands due to today’s big event. Later in the afternoon, the town square will host a celebration for Valentine’s Day. There will be a cook-off, games, a dance, and fireworks later on tonight that will always be the highlight of any holidays or festivals in Aura Cove. Of course, Mom will join Dad a little later to make up for the rest of the day together; just the two of them.

Mom eyed my t-shirt suddenly and raised a brow. “Really?”

I looked down at it and smirked. A recent birthday present from Bryn—Zefie’s older sister. The shirt was white with red and black fonts. The text itself read: “Love is in the air. Try not to breathe.”

“Hey, at least I’m getting into the spirit of Valentine’s Day. It points out on how much I love this holiday. You’re the one who told me to get up and go to school anyway.”

“Point taken,” She chuckled in defeat. “Oh! That reminds me, how’s Zefie doing in Berdea? I’m sure the King and Queen must’ve planned a big event to celebrate as well.”

“Yup! Zef told me that they’re preparing for tonight’s nightly event. She’s in the middle of baking Valentine themed treats with Queen Toriel for the ball. She mentioned that everyone went nuts over some of the treats she made last Halloween.”

Mom’s eyes widened in astonishment. “Really? Baking with the Queen sounds very exciting. It’s good that her desserts still puts a smile on people’s faces just like she did here. Her personality is full of smiles and joy.”

“Of course, Mom. No one can resist Zefie’s charm. I keep telling her that she’s what the prince is looking for, but she thinks otherwise. Zefie is compassionate, can bake yummy treats, make funny puns, and show hints of leadership when the serious stuff pops up.” I said proudly.

“I agree. Everything about her is what Auradon really needs in a future queen. And I’m not saying that just to favor her out of the remaining twenty left. But one day, we’ll all look back at what Zefie once was before she became Aura Cove’s Selected competitor.”

A pained tug made my breath hitch all of a sudden. All this talk about Zefie just made me realize how hard it’ll be to celebrate without her here—how hard it’ll be to realize that one day, she may never come back if she’s the one. It’s gotten a bit lonely now even if I still have friends to talk to.

I felt Mom's Hand fall over mine and squeezed it. “I know, Beth. I miss her, too.”

I nodded and felt my lips quiver—just a little. I’ve never felt more proud of Zefie’s progress and accomplishments over at the palace of Berdea. She’s slowly becoming less timid, and growing a bit more bold as she keeps seizing each day with determination. The Selected girls should be afraid of her; she’s not someone to take so lightly.

When Mom cleared her throat, I was snapped back to reality. “You know, now that Zefie has finally set her heart towards the Prince, perhaps it’s time that you should look for the love of your life, too. Don’t you think so?”

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Since when did this conversation shift from Zefie over to me now?

“No way,” I scoffed. “Sorry to break your hopes, Mom, but I’m not relationship material. It’s never gonna happen. Nein. Naddah.”

She chuckled. “Oh, come oooooooon. Don’t be such a grump! You can’t just tell me that you’re gonna grow up and die single.”

“Can, and will.” I remarked.

She sighed, but not in defeat. “Alright, tell you what. I will let the whole ‘find your other half’ topic drop, if you promise me to just at least give this year's Valentine’s Day a chance to explore your interests in guys, whether it’s a human or monster. I don’t care.”

“Moooooom!”

“I just don’t want you to be lonely! Just promise me you’ll try? Pleeeeaaaassseeee? And you'll never hear a word about being involved with romance. Ever.”

I gave her a skeptic look at first, her smile not dying down until I groaned and gave a soft nod. At least she’ll drop the subject if I just go with it. Finally. My mom just likes the idea of me being in love with someone as she does with my dad, and I don’t blame her. But deep down, there are some people like me that can live without a partner. Sometimes being assertive doesn’t always go through that head of hers.

That at least made her grin ear-to-ear until she looked at the clock and gasped. When I looked, too, I gaped. Shoot! I’ve got ten minutes to spend my free time before school starts!

“Time for school, Beth. Drive safe, I love you,”

“Alright, alright. Love ya, too.” I rose up from my chair, slinging my backpack over my shoulder.

I walked past Mom and kissed her cheek, waving her goodbye before I marched out the front door, fishing out my car keys and climbed into Whitey—a nickname I picked for my dad’s pickup truck, but now it’s mine. I buckled my seatbelt before I looked at the head view mirror. Staring right back at me is my cyan-green eyes—they look exasperated and tired. I took a deep breath in, then exhaled.

Right, I can do this. Once the keys went to the ignition, the truck sputtered to life before I backed out of the driveway and took off.

The drive to school was quite repulsive. Red and pink colored banners decorated the streets, ribbons were twisted and tied around from one light post to the other. Heart-shaped balloons were being tied onto several booths and storefronts as I drove by. Customers rushed in and out of the Bakery with desserts packed in boxes. The local flower shop was even packed, the employees hurrying to arrange and prepare bouquet of flowers—most of the customers were guys that probably forgot to get their lovers something. I shook my head at the madness. Can this get any worse?

Turning into the school’s parking lot, I waste no time finding a parking spot, turning the engine off and climbed out of Whitey. I sling my backpack over my shoulder again, speed-walking across the parking lot. Suddenly, I hear a chime ring from my pocket. I quickly fish it out to find another text from Zefie.

*Just finished helping Queen Toriel with the goodies, on my way to my room to be dressed in a gown. Should I wear red, or pink?

I chortled and began to twiddle my thumbs swiftly. Pink is too innocent for her, she needs red to look seductive and make Prince Asriel swooned for her. Earlier, I was told that all the girls were eager for his attention, since today is all about expressing one’s feelings towards the person you love. So, I told her to act how she and I usually feel before—act casual about it and brush it off like today means nothing. And in her case, she needs to play hard to get.

Just as I was about to press send, my body slams into something to hard and rigid enough to make me stumble back and fall. I let out a loud, pained groan. Shit.

“Whoa there, dudette, you ok?”

I felt a rather big hand tug me up by the arm gently to help me up. “Yeah, bro, I’m all good. Sorry about bumping into to ya—“

The moment I laid my hand over the person’s arm, I stopped talking. My lungs began to ache as if I lost the ability to breathe. Towering over me was a dragon monster—a familiar one I once met back when I was a little brat. All the memories of him began to flood in my mind as if they were the long lost pieces of a jigsaw puzzle left unsolved.

He smiled a toothy grin and crossed his arms over his buff chest. “Pfft, you better be sorry. It was pretty much your fault for bumping into me. Don’t you know that it’s dangerous to be texting and walking in the school parking lot, Winchester?”

“Haha . . . Heeeeeeyyy, Everflare.” I managed a smile.

Drayce Everflare, a dragon monster who is a fucking cunt; but has the heart of gold that he shows to those who are close to him.

Zefie and I first met him back when we were still living in Elridge as kids. I remember it as if we’re just yesterday. We were the first to befriend him a few months after the barrier was destroyed. It was very hard for Drayce to settle back then. The humans were still getting used to the idea of monsters roaming among the surface. So, the two of us helped him open up more until he eventually gained more friends.

Unfortunately, Zefie and I had to say goodbye to our friends, even Drayce, because we were moving to Aura Cove. To be honest, I thought that this was the last time we’d ever see him until three years ago—a party at an old classmate’s house just down the street from my aunt’s. I invited Zefie to come with me to visit my mom’s side of the family back in Elridge.

When my attention wavered back to Drayce, he no longer stood five feet tall. In fact, he had a huge growth spurt, now towering over me—I was around five-foot while he was now six-foot and twelve inches tall. His scales were black as night, but they give off a hint of a sapphire color underneath the sun’s rays. Drayce’s pupils glowed in a smokey-ashed ember color, a black slit stayed in the center of his pupils—similar to a snake’s and cat’s eyes. And as always, his mane, shimmered in a silvery-color just like the moon.

“It’s good to see ya, Bethany.”

“You too, Drayce. So, you’re attending Aura Cove High now?”

“Yup, it’s my first day. My family has had enough of the cold climate of Elridge, so we decided to move south. And you know our kind never do well in cold weather even though Elridge never has snow.” He says as we walked inside the school building.

Apparently, he and his family moved to Aura Cove a few days ago—enough time for them to move in and settle. And now that Drayce is attending Aura Cove High, I decided to point out directions without using the map he was given by the office. I know the school grounds like the back of my hand.

As we walked around, nearly half of the girls were already swooned by his appearance. Can’t blame them really, especially when there’s a new student who’s tall, buff, and eye-catching—more like eye-candy. However, he seems to be unfazed about the girls drooling over him. What a surprise. Once Drayce understood where to go, we had to get to our classes when we hear the bell ring. We briefly say our goodbyes before I turn the opposite direction for my least favorite class: History.

“Good morning, Bethany! Happy Valentine’s Day!” Suzy beams and hands me a mini bag filled with all assorted candies.

I grumbled, but took the goodies anyway. “Hey, Suzy. And yeeeaaaah, you, too. What’s up?”

Suzy Marsh is an optimistic lamb monster, and one of the members of the Student Council. She’s known as the social butterfly, getting along with every student in our school. It’s without a doubt that Suzy is an extrovert.

“Quite crazy to be honest,” She gestures the hallway as students hurried to get to class. “The school will be hectic today, because of Valentine’s Day as you can tell. So, it’s going to be quite an exhausting day for all of us.”

Suzy was right, the whole school was already getting into the Valentine’s Day action. The girls receiving flowers, a heart-shaped box filled with all the junk chocolates, and love notes from their partners. And as for the single ones? Possibly trying to muster up the courage to confess to their crushes—if they decide to. When Suzy and I turned to our first class, we caught a quick glimpse on our school’s most popular, but ignorant girl.

Felicity is always the one who gets the most gifts. Dozens of roses laid in the crook of her arm as she opens her locker to find lots of love notes. I grimaced when she pretended to look surprised before shoving an expensive chocolate box inside and heads to class. Suzy and I shook our heads. What a boastful brat.

Once we find our assigned desks for History, I leaned back against my seat. I’m not surprised that the teacher was going over a mushy myth about how red roses came to be, because it was Valentine related. According to Greek mythology, it was told that Venus—or Aphrodite, if any of the students wanna argue about the goddess of love’s true name—fell in love with a mortal hunter named Adonis. And Mars, who also loved Venus, grew jealous of her love for a low mortal like him. He sent out a boar that ended up injuring Adonis during the hunt, but later died by the time Venus came to aid him. The blood he shed mixed with Venus’ tears is what gave birth to the blood-red rose.

All of the girls sighed in awe while I groaned. I get it now. No wonder red roses are the most desired in Valentine’s Day.

Suzy suddenly leaned over and whispered. “I just got a text from the Pres, it looks like I won’t be able to join you on fifth period. Markus bailed on his promise to volunteer on delivering the candy grams. So, I’ll have to take his place and do it. Wanna join? We could always use another hand.”

Oh, god. Not that . . .

Our school prides themselves into having candy grams—a spiffy, but stupid nickname for love notes taped with store-bought candy—delivered by cherubs every year on Valentine’s Day. It’s where the students have the opportunity to go and write a “love note” to the recipient, but the notes can be friendly, too. All they have to do is go to the sign-up table—ran by a few of the student council members—to fill up an order slip for the candy grams. The sender can choose to write their names, or remain anonymous.

After that, the cherubs—students that volunteer to be messengers—go and deliver the notes. Here’s the catch: they have to dress up and wear wings as they frolick throughout the hallway, while carrying the notes in a red sack. But for monsters who already have wings can skip wearing one, spared from humiliating themselves any further.

“No thanks, I’m too lazy to do it even if it means avoiding class. Try ask Angela. I think she said something about not wanting to do class work. And she’d be the perfect person to do an easy job.”

“Alright, I’ll ask her next period. By the way, I noticed that you were talking with the new student who transferred from Elridge. Do you two know each other?”

“Oh, you mean Drayce? Yeah, we were just classmates back in grade school. He’s an old friend to me and Zefie.”

Suzy blinked. “Aw, that’s it? Just friends? But you two looked quite compatible for each other. Nearly half the girls of the school are so drawn to him almost as much as Prince Asriel himself.”

“Haha, nah. I hate to break it to ya, but we’re just friends, Suzy. Good friends till the end of time. So, he’s all theirs for the admiring. Though I have a feeling that he’s still in a relationship.”

For some reason, I felt a painful tug in my chest enough to make it hard to breathe. Why did it hurt just now? I shook my head. Nah, maybe I’m just feeling drained about today.

“Aww, phooey . . . And here I thought that Eros, the god of love, has struck the two of you with his gold-tipped arrows altogether in one pull. It’s a shame he’s taken.”

I chuckled. To the girls, it is a shame.

This charade of students playing as the cherubs delivering notes went on for the last seven hours. And in each class, about three-to-five people gets a note or two that comes with a heart-shaped lollipop. Sometimes they even get gifts that comes with a card, just to add the surprise to the recipient. Like always, I don’t get any notes or presents—just the way I like it. That is, until my name was announced last during class all of a sudden.

“Bethany Winchester?” A student calls.

All I heard was collective gasps and whispers. My head shot up from my from my written essay. Shit.

“Uh, yeah . . ?” I think my stomach is doing summer salts.

A big white parcel was wrapped in both gold and purple silk ribbons as it sat in the crook of her arm. Heart-shaped balloons were tied around a stuffed, chubby Poro plush from League of Legends, its tongue holding a heart card that reads out “I WUV U!” My eyes narrowed. Whoever the sender was that sent me that shitty trash is gonna get it—

“And, it looks like the sender wrote their name! It’s from . . .“ She pulls the card from the parcel and gasped. “Oh my god! Your sender is Zafrina Alban! Mailed from the palace of Berdea!”

My jaw dropped in an instant. The classroom was now buzzing with loud, surprised clamorings. I quickly got up to take my presents, before walking back to my seat and stared at them.

The envelope itself was beige, the Delta Rune crest stamped over a wax gold seal. And just like the letter that had my application for the Selection—that I quickly denied filling—it smelled just like butterscotch and cinnamon. I chuckled. Seriously, Zef?

Scratch that, the sender won’t get it. And the surprise presents were no longer shitty. I should’ve known that it was from Zefie since she’s the only one who knows I play the game, and my love for the Poros.

The girls that sat near me pouted when I decided not to open Zefie’s gift, yet. I swear, ever since she left, everyone in school thinks of her as a celebrity—except for Felicity, still being a sour puss for not getting picked. And that honestly had me smirking.

Once class was done, it was lunchtime. I made my way inside the Cafeteria, getting in line and grabbed a tray filled with today’s lunch menu. After paying, I head over to the usual table where Zefie and I always sat together. Now? It was now occupied by Suzy, Angela, and Taryn. I honestly didn’t mind their company, it’s somewhat nice to have other people to talk to.

As I was eating, I hear them talk about how many candy grams they received. That is until they asked me about what I was to Drayce. Like I said to Suzy, I only see him as a friend. And then, Taryn spotted my candy gram from Zefie before Suzy and Angela begged for me to open it.

I gave in eventually and opened it, hearing them gasp behind me. Inside was a clear box of different flavored macarons, a pair of brand new black Adidas shoes, three comfy looking t-shirts, some denim jeans, and twenty packs of Spider Bakery’s Butterscotch Pillows—my all-time favorite chewable candy to eat that only exists in Berdea. It’s actually just homemade marshmallows dipped into caramel-butterscotch with a creamy texture. The baker, Muffet, is the sweet genius monster who created this delicious treat inspired by Queen Toriel’s famous pie. I can only grin. Zefie always nailed the present giving.

However, the thought of having only one candy gram broke the moment I hear a classmate of mine announce my name. Cursing under my breath, I waved Jeremy over to hand me my candy gram. It was sent anonymously, and I honestly didn’t care who it came from.

After seeing Jeremy off, I turned my head to glare at them when their snickers became uncontrollable laughters. I gave up and threw the card inside my parcel. I didn’t bother looking in the card on what the person wrote. I just wanted this day to be over.

I swear to the Goddess, I. Hate. Valentine’s Day.

Hours later, school was finally over. I painfully climbed into Whitey, placing my Valentine’s Day presents and backpack on the passenger seat, buckled my seatbelt and put the keys into the ignition before I took off. Gym was a pain-in-the-ass. I hate it almost as much as I hated Valentine’s Day, and I knew it hated me back so much.

So, it decided to show me some love by having our gym teacher make us run a two-mile-lap. Eight stupid laps! Running is evil! It was bad enough that the girls wouldn’t move their asses faster, because they were too busy going googly-eyed over Drayce! Apparently, he and I have that class together, but it ain’t too bad since we can now talk to each other and catch up.

To my surprise, Drayce offered me to stop by his party he was holding tonight. It was suspicious at first since today’s Valentine’s Day. However, Drayce promised that it’s nothing lovey dovey themed, and he wants me to come really badly. So, I told him maybe, if he promises that there will be food. Any nachos being served at a party, it’s a yes from me.

My body winced a bit, causing me to breathe in sharply. Ugh. Like I said: running is evil. Now that my body is all sore from the running, an idea hit me. When I turned my key to start Whitey, I hit the gas pedal and took off.

It was a short drive there, turning right after the stop sign and followed a road up a big hill that overlooked the east side of the town and ocean, now parking in front of Zefie’s house. Today I’m paying a small visit to Ms. Cordelia and Bryn—they offered me to join them for early supper that I gladly accepted. Stopping by to see them is my way of reassuring Zefie that they’re both okay, and keeping them company from her absence.

They’re like second family to me, especially when they always welcome anyone with open arms—except for Bryn if she finds out someone hurts Zefie. Like the usual, I spent my time talking to them while eating a bowl clam chowder with Ms. Cordelia’s famous blackberry cheesecake macarons. There are times where we all stare at the empty chair where Zefie once sat. But one day, we all believe that we’ll see her again soon.

By the time I finished helping Bryn cleaning the dishes, I bid them farewell before heading out the door. As I was climbing inside my truck, I realize it was five o’clock. Damn, time went by so fast! I said to myself. Huh, come to think of it, Drayce did say his party is at six, and I have an hour to think about it.

Hmm . . . Drive to the party, or go home? Decisions, decisions. Oh! That reminds me.

I quickly fished out my iPhone, sliding and pressing a few buttons over the screen. Within three beeps, a familiar face pops up and beams back at me along with loud music playing in the background.

“Bethany! You called just in time!”

“Did I? It looks like the ball is going great for ya. You sure it’s a good time?”

Zefie waved her hand. “No, no! I promise, it’s perfect! The ball is nearly over, and I’m just standing by the buffet table like always. All that dancing with Asriel got me so tired, that I decided to trudge on over and grab some bites.”

“True, food is a must-need fuel. And look at you, all glitzed up and stuff! Red really does look good on ya.” I commented.

Zefie’s hair was fashioned in a romantic-styled bun, fastened with ruby-red rose pins. Her eyelids were colored in a gradient style from gold, peach, and then red—staying natural without overdoing her face. As promised, Zefie was wearing a sweetheart-neckline gown that matched the color of ruby, dusted with iridescent glitter. The only thing that didn’t quite match with her look, was her seashell-shaped Aurora crystal pendant. Regardless, she still looked beautiful, extravagant, but seductive tonight.

She rolled her eyes. “Thanks, but red is too seductive. I can barely stand having that color on me.”

“But you still decided to wear it anyway. You know far too well that my advice is always right, and hard to deny.” I remarked. Her irritation grew, but giggled.

“Okay, yes, I did decide to take your suggestion to wear red for a change. I have to admit, it did catch Asriel’s attention. I even took your other suggestion and pretended to be unfazed about it.” She admitted.

I threw my head back and burst into laughter. “That’s my Zef! By the way, thanks for the Valentine’s Day presents. You really shouldn’t have.” My tone of voice changed, making Zefie giggle mischievously.

“Oh it was nothing,” She says. “I just wanted to show you, my best friend, how much I love you and appreciate the full support as I compete in the Selection. Were you surprised? Or did you plan on threatening to throw the presents away if they hadn’t announced my name?”

Damn, she knows me so well.

“Both.” I admitted as she giggled.

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t even though it would’ve been funny to see who else sent you those candy grams.”

I suddenly made that exasperated look before she gasped.

“No way, did they really?!”

“Yeeesssss . . .” I whined, slamming my head over the wheel.

“Oh my god . . ! Did they write their name? Or, was it anonymous?”

“Anon.”

I placed my phone over the holder attached to my dashboard, before I took off away from Zefie’s house. As I was driving, I listen to what she was saying about how crazy her day was over at the palace. The ball was extravagant, but a wee bit crazy since the candidates wanted to dance with Prince Asriel. I grew irritated when she told me that he danced with her last at first. But I think it was a good thing? Zefie said something about the Prince telling her that he saves the best for last.

I honestly don’t understand romantically-clichè stuff. But it did make me smile when Prince Asriel gave Zefie a simple gift: a rose dipped into rose-gold to keep the flower’s form sealed forever. It was how she liked it honestly. No large diamond, or wealthy gifts can satisfy Zefie.

As I was driving back to my house, I stepped on the brakes to stop in front of the traffic light and cursed. I swear, this one takes forever with her demonic flower friend, Flowey. I don’t know how the hell she managed to befriend that little prick, but at least he kept her company. So, I guess it was okay to me. In my peripheral vision, I spotted the moon. That was when I remembered something and looked at my phone.

“Zefie?”

“Yeah?”

I gnawed on my lower lip. “Do you by chance remember a . . . Certain black-scaled dragon with a silvery-lilac mane?”

“Bethany, are you talking about Drayce Everflare? Our Drayce who we met back in the outer province of Elridge?” She cocked a brow.

“Yeah,” I sighed as I leaned my head against the steering wheel. “That’s him.”

“Then, of course I remember him. How could I forget someone like Drayce? He’s literally the first monster we’ve ever befriended. Why bring him up?”

I exhaled softly before looking up. “Well, you see . . . I kinda ran into him this morning when I got to school, literally. Today was his first day to attend Aura Cove High. He and his family moved here two days ago, so.”

“No way! I can’t believe it! So, what happened? Did he say, or do anything peculiar between you two?” Her eyes widened with astonishment.

“Peculiar?” Flowey intervenes into view. “Ooh, I like where this is going, keep talking. I do love a good, juicy gossip.”

I grimaced at Flowey. “No, nothing at all. Except, Drayce invited me to come to his ‘welcoming’ party. Everyone’s invited, and some Elridger friends coming, too.”

“But?”

“But . . . For some reason, part of me says ‘go, because he’s got food,’ while my brain says ‘fuck it, let’s go home and call it a day.’ Now you see what the problem is?”

Suddenly, Zefie’s expression became frantic with worry. She opens her mouth, but no words came out and closes it. It looked like she wanted to tell me something I don’t know, but doesn’t know how to. For once, that actually scared me. Before she could say anything, the light turned green in my peripheral vision and I had to move. I didn’t wanna risk any of the cops giving me a ticket for breaking a few traffic laws, nor do I have the gold to pay the fine.

Feeling frustrated, I decided to park into a stall in front of the mall. All this talk about Drayce was driving me crazy, that it’s considered unordinary.

“Sorry,” I said before I turned my truck off to save gas. “It looks like you’ve got something in you mind. What’s eating ya up?”

In her point of view, I saw that Zefie was scurrying away out of the ballroom as fast as she could to avert the now loud music blaring out anything she could’ve said. Of course, she ended up bringing her demon-flower friend with her, making a few turns in different corridors until she stopped inside the king’s botanic garden.

She lets out a loud exhale and sat over the grass. “Sorry, had to move somewhere else, too. The music got too loud. Anyway, what I was trying to say earlier, is why don’t you go? I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt to stop by.”

“Seriously? You want me to go?” I asked in disbelief. The troubled look on her face is already giving me signs that she definitely knows something I don’t.

“Yeah. You and I both know that Drayce makes any party very entertaining. Do you remember the party we went to when we ‘snuck out?’ I didn’t wanna do it, but you insisted we should to see familiar faces.”

A wicked smile appeared over my face. “Of course, can’t forget about Jasmine’s party. Someone drank a lot of spiked punch, that they tried to skydive from Jas’ roof. The poor monster guy lost a tooth, but it was so hilarious!”

“See? Now you know the party won’t be anything you expect it to be. If it is, just do some small talk and go. Afterall, Drayce didn’t suggest you to come for nothing.” She says.

“Point taken,” I chuckled in defeat. “Alright, I’ll go. But, will you wait for my next call if anything happens? I hate to drive back home alone with no one to talk to.”

Zefie lets out a chuckle. “I’ll never abandon my best friend. I’m one phone call away.”

“Why bother enjoying the party, when you can spoil the mood by eating all the food?” Flowey says with a nasty smirk.

I looked at Zefie in the eye. “How the hell did you befriend this psycho again?”

“How the heck did this potty-mouthed idiot become your best friend?” He shot back.

“Why you cheeky, little—!”

“Alright, alright, enough already,” Zefie cuts us off. “Bethany, go have fun, I’ll be right here if you need me. I have a feeling that Asriel is gonna try to look for me. Don’t forget to try to have fun!”

In three beeps, her face disappears, leaving me by myself again. I sighed softly. Okay, go to Drayce’s party, talk a little, and try to have fun. Yeah, easy for you to say, Zef.

I punched in Drayce’s home address on my map and let Siri do the talking. It wasn’t long before I arrived, seeing that his huge house—almost as big as Felicity’s—was crowded just as he said it would. Right, the plan is simple: go inside, talk, have fun, leave. I repeated the mantra in my mind over and over, as I climbed out and locked my truck.

Nearly half the students from school are there, some greeting me as I make my way inside the house. Music was blaring through the speakers, monsters and humans socializing near the living room, and some dancing by the porch. In the corner of my eye, I spotted Felicity flirting with an unfamiliar monster. However, the only person who I didn’t spot was our party host.

I shrugged softly and walked towards the long table filled with appetizing food. Oh well, I could care less for now. The only thing that caught my attention, was the spicy cheese sauce waiting for my nacho chips to dive in and burn my tongue. I grabbed a plate, taking a handful of nacho chips and a hotdog. And then, I stared down at the cheese dip.

My tongue snakes out from my lips as I rubbed my hands together deviously. “Come to Mama. I deserve you, dammit.”

“Well, hello there, blazing blondie. I see you haven’t changed a bit.”

My eyes widened. Wait a second, I know that voice.

I whipped my head in an instant and gasped. “Cassie?! Is that you?!”

“The one and only. Come here, you!” In an flash, I was pulled into a rather tight bear hug, feeling her scaly arms rub against my cheek.

Drayce has two sisters, and Cassie is one of them—only three years younger than him. Like her brother, her height still towered over me due to being a dragon herself. Cassie’s scales glowed in an iridescent color like an opal, her eyes sparkled like Pyrites.

And as for the second one, her name is Moon. Sweetest little human toddler, hyper like a wildfire. She does have a dragon form, but she’s still learning how to transform on her own due to her young age. Moon is considered a hybrid since their dad and stepmom are different species. They named her Moon, because her silvery-white hair is the same color as the moon.

“It’s been far too long,” She releases me. “And here I thought it’d be the last time Dee and I would ever see you again. Poor little Moon kept asking us if you’d come to the party.”

I chuckled. “Hey, you could’ve spotted me at school. Where were you?”

“Ah, about that, I actually got to school late. I was admiring the bracelets that has the famous Aurora crystal on it.” She blushed, holding up a white wool-braided bracelet with the crystal carved into a butterfly.

“I can see why. Regardless, welcome to Aura Cove: where the land meets the sea and the sun kisses your skin.” I lifted my plastic cup as cheers. Cassie grabbed a cup of her own from the table, and clinked it against mine as thanks before the two of us gulped our sodas down.

“Nice motto you guys got there, now I know my family and I are going to like it here already.”

“Oh, you guys definitely will. Which reminds me, where’s your folks at?”

“Ah, they left ten minutes ago to a dinner date at some fancy restaurant. You know how my dad is, wanting to ignite the love he has for my loving stepmom,” A soft smile grew on her face. “After that, they left me and Dee in charge, so it’s only us to keep an eye on the house—and yes, little Moon, too.”

My eyes widened. “If that’s the case, where is Moon?”

“Upstairs in her room, Drayce is up there still putting her to bed. And if you think the loud music will wake a six year-old, guess again.”

Cassie beckoned me to follow her to the backyard, where most of the guests lounged near the pool. Most of the lawn chairs were occupied by some familiar faces I once knew back then. When we reached the end of the poolside, Cassie dipped her legs in while I sat next to her with my legs crossed.

After that, Cassie and I spent who knows how many minutes on catching up, laughing about stories we experienced last time we spoke. Things like hilarious memories of us playing ding-dong-ditch as kids, sneaking into farmer John’s cow pasture, and the time where young Drayce drinking my cup by mistake. And to my surprise, I actually remembered that I drank over the same spot where his lips touched—Zefie and Cassie used to assume that it was like an indirect kiss, but I found that information bullshit.

I grumbled as Cassie wheezed. “Oh my god, I still can’t believe he drank it! I even teased him about getting cooties!”

“Hey, I’m not the cooties carrier! So what if I drank over where Drayce drank? It’s my cup. It’s his own fault for not knowing. And besides, we were just children.” I retorted.

“Oho, and that one time you guys played Seven Minutes in Heaven. Zefie refused to kiss any strangers, but you got balls of steel for joining the game and got my brother on first—”

“Seven Minutes?” I raised a brow. “I don’t even remember playing that with Drayce and our friends. Was it at the party?”

Cassie stared back at me in shock. “Seriously? You really don’t remember? That was the highlight of your night! I thought that Zefie—oh. Oh, uh. No, never mind. Sorry about my rambling. Forget what I said.” She waves her clawed hand to disregard it. I gawked at her.

Okay, now I know something’s up. First Zefie, and now Cassie? Geez, what the actual fuck? I sighed. I decided to forget it and thought of a new topic.

“You know, I’m really glad that your dad finally found someone special seven years ago. I remembered how sad he was until he met Lindy.”

“Yeaaaah. And she turned out to be the best mother figure to Me, Dee, and little Moon,” She leans back to look up. “But it’s a shame that we weren’t able to see Zefie sooner, before she left for the Selection. I’m still in surprised that she was chosen; a good surprise that we all can’t get over. You remember how she has always admired Prince Asriel?”

A knowing smile appeared over my face. “And she always will. All she did was take a look at the TV screen, and bam! Her life was changed forever.”

“Well, I hate to tell my friends from Elridge, but I’m rooting for Zefie. She’s got my vote since day one of meeting you and her.”

“You better,” I teased before we began to laugh.

“Ugh, can you believe that girl?” A familiar voice grumbled.

My chest tightened before Cassie and I turned our heads towards the glass table. The group that occupied the spot was none other than Drayce’s longtime friends, including the human chick with long raven hair standing next to them. I bit on the inside of my cheek, not understanding why I’m suddenly feeling nauseous. The girl had brown eyes, heart shaped lips, perfectly-average bust size,and a body in a shape of an hourglass that would make any guy go nuts for. However, that resting bitch face that dresses over all the physical beauty is Natalia Grace—Drayce’s girlfriend he’s been in a relationship with for three years straight.

“I mean, I am still shocked that the Prince still kept some of those posers in the competition, especially that one girl. Has he not yet realized what an arrogant, snob Zafrina is? Honestly, she’s such a selfish girl, pretending to be so kind and promises to support the rest of the candidates if she doesn’t get picked.” She scoffs, rolling her eyes annoyingly.

I tightened my fingers around my plastic cup, feeling Cassie’s hand restraining my arm. My blood was boiling so much just from hearing Natalia talk shit about Zefie. She has no right to say something that’s not true at all!

A monster Lizard groaned. “Calm down, will you? What do you have against Zafrina anyway? She’s cool and funny. You already know what she is to Drayce.”

“I am only speaking the truth, Owen,” She grits her teeth. “That girl is nothing but a phony. I don’t give two shits if her foster mom is best friends with the King and Queen, that just weighs another bad reputation among herself.”

“Oh, yeah? And where’s your proof on Zefie being fake? Lady Cordelia has the high title of being the King and Queen’s longest, loyal friend among their court anyway. Regardless, you can’t blame Zefie if she was adopted and raised by Lady Cordelia. There’s a lot we don’t know about on their situation. And we have no right to judge her this badly.” Another guy objected, earning an icy glare from Natalia before she continued.

“Zafrina’s involvement with the Selection will always be looked at as bad. Think about it: she could be befriending the royal family on purpose, just to stay in the competition. And how could the King and Queen say no to someone who’s the adopted spouse of Lady Cordelia? What a fraud that human mage is presenting herself; so shady and disgusting to be raised as to be taking advantage on the royal family’s kindness. If I were the Prince, I would’ve booted her conceited face out of the competition and focus on the beautiful, elegant, headstrong ones like Malachite. Unlike Zafrina, she’s got class, experience with dating, and understands how to talk in public. She’s got everything a potential Queen needs to lead Auradon. It honestly puts fake, scaredy-cats like Zafrina to shame. Of course, we all couldn’t forget about the chaotic mess she made at the children’s school in Berdea. Ugh, poor Malachite, having her thunder stolen.”

“That rumour died weeks ago,” Owen argued. “It was a big misunderstanding.”

She huffed. “That’s what the media wants us to think. But one thing is true: Zafrina is fake.”

The guys shift uncomfortably in their seats, feeling speechless about it as Natalia began to let out a haughty laugh. I wrench my arm away from Cassie and stood up in an instant, making my way towards them. Malachite? An idol of elegance? More like the total opposite. Last time I remembered, Zefie mentioned that Malachite thought she put herself in danger with the demons on purpose. She low-key bullies the other competitors if they get too close to Prince Asriel. And yet, Natalia thinks she’s got what it takes to be the Queen? Yeah, as if! As for that dumb rumour, that was all on Malachite. That bitch made her fans bully Zefie while playing victim. That is not how a Queen should act!

The moment I arrived, Owen clears his throat and waved.

“Ayyyyyye, Winchester! Good to see ya! It’s been awhile!” The guys join in, too, saying their hellos before Natalia whipped her attention towards me.

“What up, nerds? Did I miss anything important at all from this conversation? I couldn’t help but overhear about Prince Asriel’s Selection. Do tell,” I forced a smile, my fingers gripping the cup more.

Owen swallowed hard, but Natalia gladly speaks. “Bethany Winchester, so good to see you! How’s your parents?”

“Both at the town square. Care to help me catch up on the topic you guys were talking about?” I pressed again, my smile not faltering.

“Oh! Silly me, so sorry about that. We were just talking about the girls that are still in the Selection. The ones that don’t deserve to stay, because of their fraud personality.”

“Really? I think some of them deserve a chance from us to get to know them—whether they’re being fake or not. That’s the Prince’s job to find out anyway. The media can only say much, but there are people like me that know a lot more about the candidates personally. Like Zefie for example.”

She gasps surprisingly; a fake one I can see through so well. “O. M. G. I totally forgot you’re very close with Zafrina! Oh, you poor thing, having to coach her on how to talk to the Prince himself! It was a silly mistake of Mettaton to pull her name, instead of someone else from Aura Cove.”

The boys behind her began to shrink back with fear, as my fingers began to break the plastic more as she rambled on. Mistake? How the fuck does pulling her name randomly become a mistake?

“You still have her number, right? Maybe you could help her out by talking her out of the Selection. I’d hate to be in Zafrina’s shoes right now and make an embarrassment out of the royal family and myself. And besides, I don’t think she’d do well in bed with him. She is asexual, right? Her anxiety is such a big turnoff just like the time we played Seven Minutes in Heaven at Jas—“

I splashed my soda at her face as she gasped, hearing loud gasps from the guys enough to make the entire party stop. When Natalia cried out, I chuck my cup at her after. My fingers curled into tight fists at each sides of my body. I’ve never felt this angry than the time Felicity tried to bully Zefie for competing. But now? This one takes the cake; big time.

“You listen here, bitch,” I walk up to Natalia, staring down at her shocked expression. “You can talk shit about anyone you like that really needs it, but nobody, not even you, are allowed to babble things about Zefie that are not true. I don’t care if she’s timid. I don’t care if she’s the adopted child of Runa Cordelia. I don’t care if some people think her kindness is looked as arrogance. But I certainly care if people like you throw dirt at her appearance! You and I both know the real truth about Zefie, and I am so disappointed that you’re deciding to trash it.”

Behind me, I felt Cassie stand behind me while the crowd whispers, hearing soft clamorings before I spoke again.

“You complain that she’s timid and quiet, but she at least has one thing that will make everyone see her differently. And that’s courage. So, if I were you, Natalia, I would actually shut the fuck up and keep my mouth shut, before I make a fool out of myself.” I square my shoulders and stood straighter. “And don’t worry about me sticking around, I was just leaving anyway. It really is good to see that you haven’t changed one bit. Enjoy the party.”

Just as I turned my heel to walk away, Cassie gasps. “Bethany, look out!”

I whipped my head back behind me far too late. Natalia angrily lunged at me to knock me back against the pool, but I quickly grabbed her arms and pulled her down with me. The water crashes against our bodies, hearing nothing but loud splashing until my head broke through the surface and gasped for air, suddenly feeling something grab my hair. I growled and began splashing at Natalia nonstop.

“Let go!” I snarled, splashing right at her face. Above us, I hear the crowd cheering at our fight until a loud roar stops us.

Before I could look up, a clawed hand outstretched towards me to take it. I swallowed and grabbed it before I was reeled out of the pool. A bystander also helped pull Natalia out, seeing Drayce stare back at me with worry. Oh.

“Bethany, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Drayce, no worries—“

“Baaaaaaabe!” Natalia cries out. “Just look at what Bethany did to me! I’m all soaked, and my makeup is ruined! All we did was share a conversation, and she got mad at me for saying something and pushed me into the pool! I only grabbed her just so she’d get wet, too!”

My jaw dropped before I grimaced at her. Why that lying, piece of shit—!

“I want you to apologize to her, right now!” He growled, his voice suddenly spine-chilling. What . . ?

I sighed disappointingly. I should have known, a downright shame of me thinking he’d pick his best friend over his girlfriend. I can’t blame him on that, no matter how much fault she was involved in. I bit on the inside of my cheek and stared back at the haughty face, sneer Natalia was making before I breathed.

“I’m very sorry for pulling you in with me, after you pushed me in for busting you on talking shit about Zefie,” A loud, collective ooh’s sounded throughout the backyard as I held my head up proudly. I suddenly felt Cassie standing behind me, draping a dry towel around my body.

Natalia scoffed and shook her head. “Can you believe her, Babe? Her apology is nothing but lies!”

“I wasn’t talking to you, Winchester,” He says before he turned to glare at the now surprised Natalia. “Now, I‘m waiting. Do not make me repeat it.”

“Excuse me?” She scoffs. “Why should I apologize to her when she started this?! Bethany was being butt-hurt over something I said and threw her soda, and cup at my face! It’s not my fault if she can’t handle the truth about—“

“The truth about who?” He snarls to a point where everyone stopped breathing. His claws begin to flex, watching Natalia’s face grow pale with fear as he kept a hard expression on his face.

I placed a hand over Drayce’s tensed arm before he turned to look at me. “Stop, it’s okay. She’s right, it’s my fault.”

“What? No, it’s not—“

“It’s fine, really. I’m sincerely sorry that I ruined your welcoming the party. So, I should leave.”

I quickly said my goodbyes to Cassie, walking away before Drayce could stop me. My teeth gnaws the inside of my cheek so hard, I can taste iron. I ignored everyone I move past, not hearing their cheers for fighting with Natalia.

When I walked past Felicity, she chuckled. “Nicely done on insulting the mouthy-whore. Quite a mistake of her to be running her anger towards Zaf—”

“Fuck off, I don’t need praises from a hypocrite.” I hissed without looking back. Though, it was surprising to hear that from someone like her.

My body began to shiver since my hair and clothes were still dripping wet. What’s worse? My favorite shirt was all drenched! And my phone must be dead, too! I snarled. I stand corrected with what I said before: I hate Valentine’s day. I want to go home and end this turd of a day.

I climbed inside Whitey, slamming my door shut and gripped the steering wheel tightly. In an instant, I let out a loud, distressed scream before I slammed my fist against my dashboard and leaned against the wheel. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Just then, I hear Zefie’s ringtone buzzing on my dashboard.

I gasped. Holy shit, I forgot that my phone was here inside my truck! I exhaled loudly. And here I was thinking that Natalia drowned my phone! Thank god. I answer quickly, seeing that Zefie is in her pajamas instead of her dress, hair down and brushed.

“Hey, Bethany! I know it’s super late of me staying up, but I wanted to—huh? Hey, what happened to you?! Why are you all wet?!”

“A lot,”

I sighed before I start my truck and drive off to who knows where. Along the way, I explained the whole story as short as possible, including the encounter with Drayce’s mouthy-girlfriend. When I turned to a familiar dirt road, I follow it and drive all the way to the top of the highest hill that overlooked all of Aura Cove. I cut the engine off and changed out of my damp clothes, before grabbing the new ones Zefie sent me. I was disappointed that my hair smelled and was a mess. So, I free my hair to dry as I started walking towards the wooden split rail fence, with my phone in hand before climbing over and sat on it.

Beyond the distance, I can hear faint music blasting from the town square, the flickering lights glowing white, pink, and red. The sounds of the waves crashing against the shores echoed into my ears enough to give me chicken skin. Zefie and I remained quiet, just listening to the sounds Aura Cove made like we used to. It gives us comfort, knowing this is what home is. Both of us are still surprised that no one discovered this place—except us, which is why it was considered our secret place to go.

“I’m so sorry about what happened,” Zefie says suddenly. “At Drayce’s I mean. I should’ve told you not to go if I knew this would happen. It’s all my fault.”

“That’s not true, Zef. Don’t blame it on yourself. It’s my fault, really. No one knew this was gonna happen; but I did. I already knew it the moment Natalia talked about you and whoever else that is completely innocent.”

She sighed. “I didn’t even know she thinks of me as arrogant. She was a nice girl last time I spoke to her three years ago.”

“Yeah, me too—“ My head perked up suddenly. Now that I think about it.

“Zef? Mind if I ask you something?”

“Of course, what is it?”

“Well, tell me something I don’t know. And don’t hold back whatever it is that you heard me say once, ignore it. Please, you have to tell me what you’re not telling me. I already know, because Cassie mentioned the Seven Minutes in Heaven game that I clearly don’t remember. Natalia, too, before I threw my drink at her.” I say, looking at her.

Zefie blinked, her mouth opening again before closing it nervously. “A-are you sure . . ? You really don’t recall anything at all?”

“No, please tell me, Zef. Please,” I plead with all my might. “If It has something to do with the sudden knots forming inside my stomach when I first saw Drayce after so long, or that sudden pain I feel when I try to breath at the mention of his relationship. If it helps fit the missing pieces together, then I have to know.”

Zefie hesitated, but I stared back with plea for her to say more.

“Whatever burdens I left for you to carry alone that were meant for me, I’m so sorry, Zef. I want to take them back and resolve it together with you; right here, right now. It won’t hurt me, I promise.”

I watched nervously as Zefie closed her eyes and took a deep breath in, exhaling heavily and looked at me in the eye.

“You remember everything about Jasmine’s party, correct?” I nodded. “All except a certain memory that will answer the unanswered you wondered this whole time you were with Drayce?”

“Yes,” I breathed.

“Bethany, all of that happened, because you were in love with Drayce. Three years ago, at the party.”

Oof, not this again . . .

“What? But I don’t love him! I just see him as a friend! How many times do I have to tell people—”

“Yes you were! And you always have! None of that ever happened, because you let Natalia have him, Beth!” Tears were streaming down her cheeks before she continued. “This whole time, you were trying to muster up the courage to tell Drayce how you felt. That opportunity ignited the moment you two saw each other again. After that, the embers turned into flames when you and him kissed in Seven Minutes.”

I swallowed hard at what she was telling me. “W-what . . ? What is this? A fairytale? Those things are for people who have high hopes of meeting their so called other halves.” I stared back at her in disbelief.

“. . . I know, but that was you before, Bethany. But you never got the chance to be with Drayce. Because you told me Natalia guilt tripped you that she wanted him first, and you felt terrible. So, you allowed her.”

“If that’s the case . . . Then, she got to him first and I was rejected?”

“No you weren’t, Bethany! And that was the thing! You told me that Drayce loved you back after Natalia told you she wanted him!” She shouts at the top of her lungs.

I swallowed hard at Zefie’s words before she calmed down and continued.

“What I’m trying to tell you is, you were the one who said no to him. . .”

“And then . . ?”

She looked at me. “You wanted to forget about being in love with Drayce. You so badly wanted to stop feeling the pain of losing him, knowing that he now belongs to Natalia. You begged me to cast the forgetful spell on your memories—a spell that’s meant to aid those that went through something traumatic. And I did it, of course I did. After that, those memories disappeared the moment the spell erased them from your mind.” She choked, hearing her voice tremble. I felt so guilty for having to ask of her something this painful.

“So, that’s why I couldn’t remember any of it . . . If that’s the case, then why did my heart go all nutsy?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. I think the spell itself can only wipe away something simple like your mind, but it can never force your heart to—it can never forget about the person who impacted your life the most. Remember: this is a spell that erases something so traumatic; not something that can completely erase someone from our lives. And don’t ask me why, I never went to an actual Mage school. But what mattered is the spell doing its job, until you ran into Drayce. To put it bluntly: your heart went wild the moment your eyes met his. That action itself is what initiated your heart to make you remember who he was to you.”

I felt my stomach twisting into knots again, shuddering under my breath. I was in love with Drayce? And my heart was trying to tell me this whole time?

“You were ready to take the chances of a distance-relationship with him, Beth,” She speaks again. “You were so ready to sacrifice everything you will make just to be with him; and he was, too. Hell, you admitted that sneaking out of your aunt’s house was the best thing you ever did until Natalia, uh . . . Spoiled it . . ?”

“Yup. What she said, Winchester,”

My body flinched before I turned to find Drayce standing in the middle of the empty parking lot, before he walked towards me. Through my phone, I can hear Zefie gasping. My eyes never left his gaze, even when he stopped several inches away from me. Then, he turns to look at my phone and grinned.

“Long time no see, Zefie. You still look fantastic as ever.”

She smiled back. “Right back at you, Draco. You’ve gotten taller and muscular!”

The entire time, I couldn’t stop gazing at him like a moron as he took a spot next to me. When he turned to gaze over at the town, his eyes sparkled like a thousand gems and smiled in awe. After a brief silence, Zefie clears her throat loudly and we flinched. Oh, right.

“What’re you doing here? How did you find me?”

Drayce lets out a chuckle. “Yeah, about that. I came here to apologize over what my ex did to you, and for insulting Zefie.”

“Ex?!” The two of us exclaimed in unison.

“Yeah. I tried to tell you that I broke up with Natalia about a year ago, but you walked away before I could finish. Her habit of talking shit behind people’s backs was part of the reason why I left her.” He sighed as if a weight has been lifted.

Zefie blinked. “Then, how and why did she show up at your party?”

“That's the thing, she wasn’t invited and wasn’t supposed to know. Sadly, Natalia made one of my friends spit out the information before forcing him to drive her all the way here. Natalia thought of getting back together with me, but I harshly told her it was really over.”

I rolled my eyes. “So thirsty and desperate. You made a great call on breaking up with her.”

“Ditto,” Zefie shrugged at Drayce before he laughed.

“Yes I did. Now, before I forget, I am actually here to check if you were okay, Winchester. So, I guess you can say that I followed ya and flew up here until I caught up to what you and Zefie were talking about.” He confesses, rubbing the back of his neck meekly.

“That’s okay, it actually involves most of you,” I responded before turning to Zefie. “So, now that we're all here, mind if you can wrap this up?”

Zefie looked from me, to Drayce and began to speak. “Well, that’s it really. And if you want your memories back, then that’s gonna be a problem. The Book of Spells mentions that you cannot regain memories that are lost. Once that action is done, you can no longer undo it—not even a spell or time traveling can help.”

“That’s okay, I really don’t need them. At least, not now. Thanks for helping me out. I owe you so much.” I smiled.

“Of course, no pro—“ She stops at mid-sentence to let out a long, tired yawn. Oh crap, I forgot that it’s super late for her!

“Yo, Zefie, you look awfully tired. I think it’s time for ya to hit the hay. Don’t worry about Bethany now, I can take it from here.” Drayce says, with me and Zefie gasping in unison.

“A-are you sure? I can stay up to—“

“You need rest, Zef,” I waved a hand. “All the decorating, baking, dancing, and helping me out is far too much for you. So, you deserve to rest. I’m okay now, I promise.”

Zefie looked from me to Drayce before making a knowing smile. “Alright then, I trust you two will be fine. Do it right, and no more running away. Happy Valentine’s Day to you guys, goodnight!”

“Goodnight, Zef!” Drayce and I waved before our FaceTime ended.

After that, we were silent. My heart wouldn’t stop racing now that I know why. This honestly makes me understand how Zefie feels when she’s around Prince Asriel. It’s emotionally exhausting.

“How did you find me?” I asked suddenly.

“Ah, about that,” He chuckles nervously. “After forcing Natalia to go home, I ran to come look for you. So, I flew around the town till I spotted you sitting here by yourself, until I heard most of the deep conversation you had with Zefie.”

I huffed softly. “If were weren’t buddies, I would’ve called you a stalker. So, I’ll let you off the hook. But, yeah, now you know.” I say, my eyes lingering over the town.

“This hill, I can tell that you come here often.”

“Heaven’s point? Not always; it’s a place where Zefie and I go to when worse things bums us out. We sit here in silence, taking in the beauty of the town before one of us vents. Sometimes we come alone.” I say.

“So, this hill has some kind of magic power of taking away grief and anger?” He asks.

“In a way, yeah. But when Zefie left for the Selection, I came here for the past two weeks. I just couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing her again, while I support her to become Berdea’s future Princess at the same time. Sometimes, I wished that she would come back and . . . Oh, god. I feel selfish for saying that.”

He lets out a chuckle. “It ain’t a selfish at all. We all do miss Zefie’s company. You two are always inseparable and very close—two peas in a pod. Don’t lose hope, I’m sure one day the Prince will let his candidates see their loved ones soon.”

“Really?”

“Yup, you know it.” My train of thought abruptly stops the moment I felt a hand cover mine.

I gasped and turned to find Drayce staring back at me intently. Oh. “Uh, Everflare, your face seems to be a little too close.”

“Nope, I think it’s just where it should be,” He lifts my hand and kisses my knuckles. “What Zefie said was true. I did confess and asked you to be mine. In fact, I have always had a thing for ya, especially the day when Zefie broke the ice to make us talk to each other . . .”

“D-Drayce, I don’t know what to say,” I admitted.

“You don’t have to. Except, maybe telling me your honest answer I’ve been waiting for?” His face inched closer until his snout touched my forehead and kissed it, earning a small whimper from me.

God dammit, I cursed. My cheeks burned madly, that I think it’s ten times darker than my skin-tone! When his clawed fingers combed through my damp hair, I instinctively closed my eyes and felt his hot breath vent against my trembling lips.

“D-Drayce, I . . .”

Just as I was expecting lips, a loud boom echoed enough to make us to jump, turning our heads to where the sound came from. I gasped. Bright streaks of vibrant color shot up into the sky, before exploding into a blaze as it illuminates over Aura Cove. Oh! I forgot about the fireworks showing up! God dammit.

When Drayce’s arm curled around my waist, I bravely moved over to sit on his lap, moving his thick arms around my waist as we watched each one burst, the sparkling particles scatter before new streaks of light takes over and combust into a different color. The more I hear the fireworks blare into my ears, the harder my heart thundered against my chest.

I swallowed hard. Exactly how long do I wait for the right moment on situations like these? Fuck it, I can’t wait any longer. Chick flicks, don’t fail me now!

I turned my body and clutch his scaly face between my palms, his gaze now locked onto mine suddenly. When he opened his mouth to say something, I leaned in to press my lips over his, feeling his arms hold my body to reel me closer to his firmly. And that was when I felt it. My body felt like it was on fire, remembering the feeling of Drayce’s lips brushing against mine, parting slightly to nibble on my lower lip as I whimpered. The urge to kiss him was so intense, I really didn’t want it to stop.

Even though my memories of falling in love with Drayce disappeared, I still had something better to regain. When I was out of breath, I pulled away as my lashes fluttered. My cheeks heated when he was breathing heavily as well. His scales were glowing in different hues from the glimmering lights the fireworks made, letting the tip of my fingertips brush over them as he groaned.

“Wow, you still kiss better as I remembered, Win—“

“Yes,” I breathed. “Yes, I want to be yours, Drayce.”

His body flinched, hearing his heart hammering loudly. “S-say my name again.”

“Drayce,” I call him again. “You’re the best thing I never knew I needed. Even though I made a mistake of letting Natalia have you to herself, I’m starting to feel glad that I waited this long to change my mind. So, I want you to be mine, too. Well, of course I’ll share you with your family and friends.”

“Then be my Valentine already, dammit! I want you, all of it. And don’t you dare come up with anymore excuses. You are the only girl I see that exists within my eyes. Hell, I’ll beat the shit out of anybody who gets in my way from taking you.” He snarls against my cheek as I laughed.

“Oh my god! You did not just ask me to be your Valentine!” I card his mane with my fingers, hearing him purr.

“Yes I did, two times. Didn’t you get a candy gram? I could’ve sworn I sent you one.”

“Wait a second, that anonymous card. That was from you?!”

“Yes?” He huffed. “I figured I would’ve gotten you to remember why you’re worthy of being mine; to look at today’s holiday as a reason to love it.”

“Craaaaaap, I didn’t read it!” I said as he peppers angry kisses on my lips.

Behind me, I hear multiple thunderous explosions ringing from the distance before the fireworks show ended, leaning my forehead against his and sighed.

“You know who else is gonna be the happiest person in the world?”

“Mm, I bet it’s Zefie. I give credits to her for bringing us together.” Drayce chuckled under his breath.

“Yes, but so will my mom.” I groaned as my conversation with her played in my head.

“What’s wrong with that? She’s bound to know who’s making her daughter smiling and blushing.”

I shove down a Scotch Pillow into his maw, his eyes widening before he began to chew. My smirk grew wider the moment he swallowed.

“Is that what I think it is?!” He eyes the other piece I was holding between my fingers.

“Mhmmmm, but they require a price.” I said.

He cocks a brow. “Lemme guess, two-hundred fifty Gold?”

“Nope,” I wrap my arms around his neck and leaned close to his face. “Endless numbers of kisses.”

Drayce smiles a toothy grin and kisses me softly, before he takes my fingers into his maw to steal another scotch pillow. “Deal. Happy Valentine’s Day, Baby.”

“Two seconds after saying yes, and you’re already giving me pet names?” I grumbled as he showered more kisses on my cheek, to my ear until I gave up. “Happy Valentine’s Day to you, too, Love.”

With a smile, my life as a single person has officially changed forever. As funny as this sounds, I for once take my words back about this stupid holiday. After all, it’s a Valentine to remember. What I’m not looking forward to, is the endless squealing from my mom.

#selectiontale #undertale #undertale au #sidestory #terato writing

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