#mockingjay-sings replies

[mockingjay-sings]

Do you have a print shop?

I don't have a print shop, but if people are interested in buying prints, I could open an Inprint! ❤️

[kilesplaysthings]

Safe and Sound

~A bit of a song fic I guess? When I thought of this song, these series of events between young Caleb and MC popped into my head :) might be a little shaky in terms of the actual game lore, but this is going mainly by Caleb's myth, bond story, and the memories of their childhood together that you get from his cards.

Caleb kinda reminds me of Peeta from the third Hunger Games book Mockingjay, and the bond between he and MC kinda remind me of Peeta and Katniss, a little bit from Catching Fire and a lot from Mockingjay and afterwards.

Slight warnings: mentions of harm to children and use of force on a child, child experimentation

You can also read this here.

Caleb was always there for her no matter what, and when she was scared, he would sing to her.

I remember tears streaming down your face when I said, ‘I’ll never let you go,’

When all those shadows almost killed your light.

I remember you said, ‘don’t leave me here alone.’

But all that’s dead and gone and passed tonight…

She was crying again. The boy could see her, looking up into the orphanage’s window from below, outside in the backyard. She was huddled in a bed, crying into her little hands. Even from where he was standing, his sharp eyes noticed the bruises and bandages on her thin arms.

The boy took a deep breath and leaped up into a tall tree that stood beside the girl’s window. Stretching his thin arms out, he reached for the branches above him and pulled himself up with shaky, bony hands. Panting, he reached the highest branch next to the window and tapped on the glass. The little girl spun around, eyes widening at the sight of him. He smiled and waved. Scrubbing tears and snot away, she shyly waved back.

The window was locked, but that didn’t stop the boy. Lifting one finger, they could hear the locks snap open, and the window slowly slid upwards. The girl stared at him in awe as he climbed inside.

“Hello,” she said quietly.

“Hi!” He replied with a smile. “Are you okay? You were crying.”

She sniffled and looked down at the blankets. She didn’t answer him at first, but after a minute, he could hear her say, “I had a bad dream…”

He gently tapped her head for her to look back up at him.

“Hey! Watch this!”

He sat down on the bed and pulled out a wrinkled sheet of paper from a pocket on his grey pants. The girl watched as he folded the paper to make a little plane. Once finished, he handed it to her.

“Throw it!”

She blinked at looked at the paper for a moment. Then, after glancing at him, she did as he said. As the paper plane glided in the air, the boy once again lifted his finger. Before it fell to the ground, the plane rose up and began to drift around the room.

“Wow!” She stared at the plane with big eyes and watched in awe as it flew around. With a grin, the boy made the plane plummet and then shoot upwards again. It spun in circles and flew in loops. He made plane noises as it zoomed past their heads and spun around the room. The girl laughed in delight, clapping her hands as she watched it. The plane’s journey came to an end as he made it land on top of her small head. Giggling, she held it in her hands and smiled at him.

The boy smiled back and patted her head.

“I’m glad you’re smiling now.”

“That was so cool!” She exclaimed. She began to hand the paper plane back to him, but he shook his head.

“You can keep it,” he told her. “Hold onto it for me and maybe we can fly it outside next time!”

“Thank you!” She cradled the plane in her hands and sat back in the bed. Her knobby knees came up to her chest, revealing thin legs that were battered and bruised. The boy continued to smile at her, hoping that the chance to play with her outside would be sometime soon, when she was feeling better…

...

Rain was coming down in torrents the night the boy crept down the halls of the orphanage. The grown-ups had taken the girl away again, right after lunch time. He had watched helplessly as they took her by the hand and dragged her out, despite her protests. She had been with them all day and it was only now, late at night, that he saw them carrying her back to her room. He had been lurking around all evening, in the corridors and other little hiding places he’d found in the old building, keeping watch for when she would be brought back.

Her door wasn’t locked, so with a twist of his wrist, he made the doorknob turn and the door slowly opened. As he quietly walked inside, the room lit up as lightning flashed, the beginning of a thunderstorm. In that moment, he could see the girl’s frightened face and wide eyes.

“Who are you?”

He gave her a gentle smile and slowly approached the bed. “I’m a friend! I live here too, along with a bunch of other kids like us!”

Thunder boomed at that moment, and she began to shiver.

“Are you scared?” The boy asked softly.

She nodded. She was about to say something when the thunder crashed again. She whimpered and covered her ears.

He took a deep breath and climbed onto the bed with her. He reached out and gently stroked her head.

“It’s okay, there’s no need to be scared. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She eyed him warily. “Promise?”

He nodded. “Promise!”

As the thunderstorm continued, the boy continued to rub the girl’s head in an attempt to comfort her. She then reached out to hold his hand.

“Don’t go… Please,” she whispered. She didn’t want to be alone.

“I won’t,” he promised. He crawled over to sit next to her.

“I should’ve brought more paper to make another plane,” he said.

“Plane?” The girl asked.

He glanced at her. “You don’t remember it?”

She shook her head.

“Well, that’s ok. I’ll make you another one later.” He glanced out the window and watched the lightning for a minute.

“Oh, I know! How about I sing for you?” He suddenly suggested.

She gazed up at him. “Sing?”

“I saw it in a book. Mamas sing to their babies to help them sleep.”

She frowned. “I’m not a baby.”

He laughed a little. “I know, I know. But it might help you not be scared.”

She was quiet for a minute. Then he felt her nod against his shoulder. “Ok.”

He knew one song. He’d heard it when he’d tried sneaking out of the orphanage one day. Before he was caught, he’d heard someone singing a gentle little song from their window. He could still vaguely remember the words and how pretty he thought the melody was.

Just close your eyes, the sun is going down.

You’ll be all right. No one can hurt you now.

Come morning light, you and I’ll be safe and sound…

He couldn’t remember the other lyrics very well, so he hummed the tune to her. He soon glanced down to see the girl had fallen asleep. With a smile, he closed his eyes to try and get some sleep as well.

“Ugh. You again. How do you keep getting in here?”

“Come on, get up!”

Two wardens in white clothing entered the girl’s room to find the two children sleeping on the bed, holding hands. Frightened awake by the men’s loud voices and the harsh ceiling light being turned on, the girl began to cry. The sound of her cries immediately woke the boy up and he jumped away from the men, trying to dodge their hands that reached for him. He lifted his hands as if to do something, but before he could, one of the men pressed a button on a device and bolts of electricity from a collar around his neck shocked the boy until he began seizing. He fell off the bed and writhed on the floor in pain. The girl’s cries turned into screams as she watched the boy shaking there, powerless to do anything. Twitching and frothing at the mouth, the boy was unable to defend himself and he was hauled up from the floor by his arms. He caught a glimpse of the sobbing girl as he was dragged away from the room. She was reaching for him, but his body was limp and numb; he could not reach out in return.

...

“You shouldn’t keep coming here. You’ll get in trouble again.”

The boy’s eyes widened, and he couldn’t help but smile happily. She remembers me today!

He ruffled her hair fondly and then flopped down on his stomach, looking up at her.

“But I like it here and I sleep better when I’m not alone. Don’t you?”

The girl gripped her blanket and nodded reluctantly.

“Then don’t worry about it!” He beamed up at her with a cheerful, carefree grin, despite the cut lip and black eye that marred his face.

“Oh! I sneaked this in for you!” She suddenly said. Reaching under her pillow, she pulled out a shiny, red apple.

The boy’s eyes widened. He felt his mouth begin to water.

“For me?”

She smiled and held it out to him. “I noticed you like these a lot.”

“Gee thanks!” Excited, he propped himself up on his elbows and took a big bite of the fruit. Juice began dribbling down his chin as he chewed.

“Mmm! Here, try it! It’s so sweet!”

Handing the apple to her, the boy watched as she took a small bite. Her eyes lit up in delight.

“It’s so yummy!”

The warm, summer breeze stirred the plain, white curtain at the open window while the two children shared a small respite of peace together, both savoring their small piece of contraband between them.

“Will you stay with me?” She asked him as the sun began to set.

“Yeah. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But what if they catch you again?” She asked nervously.

He smiled at her. “Then I’ll run and hide. But I’ll come back.”

...

Don’t you dare look out your window.

Darling, everything’s on fire.

The war outside our door keeps raging on.

Hold onto this lullaby, even when the music’s gone…

“Hurry, Josephine. The alarms won’t be down for much longer.”

“I know. I have the girl. I’m right behind you.”

The hushed voices of two people in lab coats echoed down the silent stone hallway of the darkened laboratory which was hidden in the bottom floor of the orphanage. One of them, a woman, cradled a young unconscious girl in her arms.

“Almost there. The car’s right out back,” whispered her companion, a middle-aged man wearing glasses. They were nearing a metal door only visible by the red light of an emergency exit sign.

Suddenly the woman named Josephine froze. The man noticed and quickly turned around.

“What is it? We have to go!”

“I know! I just – my legs! I can’t move!”

The two slowly turned around and in the glow of the red light above them, they saw the silhouette of a child. There was a boy standing there, wearing the grey shirt and pants that all the orphans wore. He was holding his hand out and staring at them.

“Who is that?” the man hissed.

Josephine sighed. “It’s that one boy, #002. You know, the one with the gravity evol.”

The man’s eyes widened. “No wonder you can’t move.”

“What are you doing? Where are you taking her?” The boy asked.

“We’re taking her away; out of the orphanage. Please don’t stop us,” the man said quietly, trying to speak kindly to the boy. With an evol like that, he knew it would be better not to aggravate him.

“Why? So you can experiment on her some more? So you can kill her again?”

The two adults stared at him in shock. The boy was glaring at them, but his hand was shaking, and unshed tears were in his wide, violet eyes.

“What do we do?” The man whispered.

Josephine kept her eyes locked with the boy’s. She then narrowed her eyes, studying him for a minute.

“Let me go, boy, and I’ll take you with us.”

That surprised the other two.

“Huh?”

“Josephine, uh, what are you doing?”

She didn’t respond to her companion’s question. “I know full well how attached you are to her. I know how much you care about her; how much you’ve been trying to comfort her when she’s hurt and scared. Why else do you think you’ve been able to get so close to her lately?”

The boy’s lips quivered, as if he was trying not to cry.

“We’re taking her far away from here, where she can be safe and try to live a normal life. She could use a companion to protect her and help her adjust to life outside of the orphanage. How about it?”

The boy looked confused and lost. He bit his lip, eyes glistening.

“You let me go and come with us, you won’t ever have to see this place again. You also can try to live a normal life.”

“Josephine,” the man hissed, glancing around nervously, “we need to go now!”

She continued to watch the child closely.

“Decide now, child. If we’re caught here, who knows what will happen to us? You probably won’t ever see this girl again.”

“Josephine!” The man was getting more desperate by the second. They began to hear movement on the floors above them.

The boy gulped and took a deep breath. Then, he lowered his hand.

Josephine was able to move again and jerked her head towards the exit.

“Come on. We’re not waiting for you to have second thoughts.”

Still shaking, the boy quickly followed the adults, his bare feet slapping against the stone floor as he ran. Outside in the rainy night, a car waited for them. Its lights were off so as to not attract anyone’s attention. The four piled into the car and as soon as the doors were shut, it sped off into the night.

The boy could hardly believe it. He was out. She was out. They would never have to see that place again. They would never have to be experimented on again. He wouldn’t have to watch them take the girl away only to bring her back weak, dazed and confused, having forgotten everything over and over again. These adults had given them the key to their freedom. He watched the sleeping girl next to him and began to cry.

Josephine would end up adopting them together. She gave them their own names and told them to call her Grandma. And then, after moving around from place to place, she found a house in the suburbs for the three of them to settle down. They would be able to try and live normal lives, like she had told him.

“This is our new home!” She said brightly, holding the little girl by the hand as they stared up at the modest two-story house that also had an attic.

“It looks nice, doesn’t it?” The boy asked, smiling down at the girl.

She nodded and stared at him, a little confused.

“Who are you?” She asked.

Josephine watched the two children sadly. They had waited a few weeks to move into the house due to the girl’s health. Being away from the orphanage and the medications the scientists had kept her on, the child was continually struggling with memory loss. It would take a while before she would be able to function properly.

The boy continued to smile warmly and held the girl’s hand. “It’s ok if you’ve forgotten. I’m Caleb. I’ll always be by your side.”

...

They had followed him home. He could see them in their large group coming down the street towards the house he shared with Gran and the girl. A bunch of boys, wielding bats and sticks approached the house and stood there, staring into the windows. They soon caught sight of him.

“Come on out, you loser! Or we’ll break the windows!”

Caleb gritted his teeth. They had only moved onto this street a month or two ago, and already the local bullies were singling him out. They had tried confronting him on his way home from school. Being the new kid, he was fresh meat for these boys to harass. He had tried his best to ignore them, and this was the result.

If they get inside… Grandma Josephine wasn’t home. A note on the fridge told the two kids that she had to work an overnight shift today. He didn’t want to call her, and he didn’t want to bother with the police. They wouldn’t get there in any decent time anyway.

Caleb glanced upstairs. She was up there. Recently, she had taken to playing up in the attic. They’d had many a fun afternoon playing hide and seek up there and making pillow forts as their secret base. He took a deep breath and yanked the front door open. The boys saw him and jeered at him, waving their crude weapons.

“What, you actually got some balls on ya, jerk ass?” One of them shouted.

Caleb glared at them. “Give me one minute. Then I’ll take you all on.”

The boys laughed. “Gotta go ask your mommy for permission first?”

He ignored that and slammed the door shut. Then he ran upstairs to the attic. Sure enough, when he peeked inside, he saw the girl lying on her stomach, coloring and humming to herself. There was a boombox near her playing some of their favorite songs.

Taking a deep breath, Caleb slowly backed away from the door. Lifting his hand, the attic door slowly swung shut and with a flick of his finger, the lock on the doorknob turned, locking the door from the outside.

“Sorry, Pip-squeak,” he whispered, “but I won’t let them hurt you.”

He then dashed downstairs and out the front door, locking it behind him, ready to face his adversaries.

It was after nine pm by the time Caleb had finished with the bullies. In only a couple of hours, he had dominated the neighborhood from his street to the next five blocks over. His bloody, cut knuckles were the price of him marking his territory; a sign of him becoming the leader of the ragtag bunch of boys that had once paraded around town like they owned it.

His evol had come in handy. He’d used it to bring his attackers to their knees, forcing them into submission. And when they tried to gang up on him, he’d showed them with his fists that he didn’t have to rely on his evol alone. Caleb had always been a scrapper, and those local boys had learned the hard way not to mess with him. His power and sheer grit had earned the respect, admiration and – admittedly - fear of the boys in no time.

Thunder began to rumble as he roamed the streets with his new group of followers. As rain began coming down and a streak of lightning tore through the sky, he suddenly froze.

The boys noticed. “What’s up, man?”

“Anybody got the time?” He asked.

One kid pulled out his phone. “It’s 9:45.”

Caleb’s stomach dropped as if he was on a fast roller coaster.

“I gotta get back!”

“Aw c’mon! It’s still early! Thought you said you didn’t have a curfew?”

“I’m going home. Now.”

His voice and the look in his eyes brooked no argument. The other boys knew to back off.

“Okay, okay. We’ll see you around, Caleb!”

He hardly heard them, already sprinting back to the house. Thunder boomed and lighting flashed as he ran through the rain. He flicked his wrist to unlock the front door before bursting inside. Slamming the door behind him, he flew up the stairs – two at a time – until he reached the attic. He did the same move with the attic door and threw it open.

“Hey! You okay?”

The attic was dark, save for one small lamp that dimly lit up the area where their makeshift fort of pillows and sheets were. The boombox was silent and the only thing that could be heard was the thunder echoing against the wooden walls.

The girl was no longer lying on the rug. When Caleb called out to her again, he caught a glimpse of a light coming from inside their fort. It was a small orb, like from a flashlight. He could also hear her, sniffling and quietly sobbing.

The boy felt like his heart was breaking. Guilt tore through him. He’d left her all alone in this dark room, where the thunder boomed and lightning crashed against the glass windows in the ceiling. What was worse, he’d nearly forgotten he’d left her up there, too caught up in fighting to remember to come home before dark.

Biting his lip until he tasted blood, he took a deep breath and crawled into the fort. He could see the small light shining from under a lump of blankets. No doubt she was clutching the flashlight so she wouldn’t be in total darkness. He sat down in front of the figure and slowly pulled the blankets away.

“Hey, Pip-squeak,” he whispered.

Her head popped up. Eyes red from crying widened at the sight of him.

“Caleb!” She tossed the flashlight aside and wrapped her arms around him, clutching his t-shirt.

“The attic was locked! I couldn’t get out! I was so scared!” She wailed.

“I know. I ran home as soon as I could. I’m so sorry, Pip-squeak.” He felt his throat tighten and held her close. “It’s okay. I’m here now.”

She hiccupped a little, gasping between sobs. “The thunder is so loud!”

“I know. Let’s get out of here, okay?”

She nodded and clutched his hand as they crawled out of the fort. As soon as they were on their feet, she clung to him once more and wouldn’t let go. The thunder roared again and he could feel her shaking.

Caleb shut his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose. He then reached down to scoop the girl up by the back of her knees. Using his evol on her, she now weighed very little and he was able to carry her as one would carry a toddler, her legs around his mid-section and her arms around his neck. She rested her head on his shoulder, her sobs dying down as he carried her downstairs.

“You tired?” He asked. She nodded.

“Then let’s get ready for bed, ok?”

Teeth were brushed and he helped her change into her pajamas.

“Don’t go,” she pleaded. She was still scared of the storm that raged on.

“I won’t,” he promised.

She latched onto him under the covers of her bed. It was like before, when they were in the orphanage. She might not remember it, but Caleb could and he was reminded of the one lullaby he would sing to her in that small, sparse room.

“Want me to sing to you?” He asked.

She glanced up at him and nodded.

So he did.

Just close your eyes.

You’ll be all right.

Come morning light,

You and I will be safe and sound…

...

Fifteen years later.

Another nightmare plagued her dreams. She found herself waking up screaming in the middle of the night. She kept dreaming about the same things: the explosion; Caleb being strapped down and tortured, his screams echoing as his life was sapped away; him writhing in pain as electric shocks destroyed his body.

She sat up in bed, shaking and sweating. She stared around the room, as if lost. Soon enough, though, she recognized the plushies littering the edge of her bed, the large electronic clock on her nightstand that showed it was three in the morning, and the photos she and Caleb had taken framed on her desk and on her bookshelves. She was in her bedroom. In her apartment. In Linkon city.

Footsteps were heard running to her door and it swung open. Caleb was there at her bedside. She could see the concern on his face from the light of her clock.

“I’m ok. It was just a nightmare,” she told him as she tried to catch her breath. “Sorry for waking you.”

“No, no. You don’t need to apologize. I get them too.”

They looked at one another for a minute or two before he turned to go back to his bed on her couch.

“Good night.”

“Caleb!” She didn’t hesitate to call to him.

He turned around, hand on the doorknob. “Yeah?”

She took a shuddering breath. “Will you stay with me?”

He smiled softly in response. “Of course.”

She slid over to give him room on the bed. Once he was comfortable, she nestled up to him. It was just like all those years ago, back at the orphanage and then back at their childhood home when they lived with Grandma.

“If you still can’t sleep, want me to sing to you, like when we were kids?”

She smiled a little. “I dunno. Your singing was never the greatest…”

He scoffed, pretending to be offended. “You just don’t have good taste.”

“Yeah sure, you tell yourself that, if it makes you feel better,” she replied, rolling her eyes.

He laughed a little. “I can sing that old song. The one you liked.”

She could remember the one he was referring to. It was a sweet little song, and when Caleb sang it, it always soothed her. She rested her head on his chest where she could feel the steady beat of his heart that assured her that he was very much alive.

“Fine. Go ahead.”

Just close your eyes. The sun is going down.

You’ll be all right. No one can hurt you now.

Come morning light, you and I will be safe and sound…

And just like that - despite his not-so-perfect singing voice - when Caleb finished and looked down at her, he saw she was fast asleep.

Just like always, he thought amusedly. He kissed the top of her head and exhaled slowly. He could feel his own body calming down, sleep beginning to take hold.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he whispered.

[bairdsrhee]

Like All-Fire

Haymitch x Lenore Dove

haymitch sneaks away to visit lenore dove in the woods

word count: 2934

pre-canon oneshot

۶ৎ masterlist

Lenore Dove was running through the meadow with an untamed liberty, her reddish brown hair flying behind her as if it had a mind of its own, throwing her hands out to her sides so that she could feel the wind through her fingers. She was wearing a long skirt that reached her ankles, but she had hoisted up the many layers of fabric to make it easier for her to move, refusing to be restricted by the tight corset wrapped around her torso. Haymitch was certain that he had never seen Lenore Dove without one of her pretty dresses on ― for women of the Covey, wearing the handmade clothes passed down from generation to generation was a huge honour.

The meadow was her safe space, just as it had very quickly become his. His ma kept him busy with chores and errands most days, but as often as he could he would rush down to the meadow to spend as much time as he could with Lenore Dove. She had a way of pulling you in, of making you feel like the only person in the entire world as long as her shining green eyes rested on you. If he was lucky, Haymitch could sometimes convince her to take him out to the very edges of District 12 where she would sing songs to him. Lenore Dove would only ever sing in places she couldn't be heard: save for her family and the Mockingjays that lived above them in the trees. And of course, him.

He knew that he most likely had that look in his eyes that Burdock would endlessly tease him about as he watches her run through the flowers, but no one was here to see him apart from her. Lenore Dove would always be the one person he wasn't afraid to show everything he felt around. She would get a look in her eyes too if she noticed; they would soften and glisten over and she would take his hand and her plump lips would kiss his and everything would feel better.

When he was with Lenore Dove, Haymitch felt unstoppable.

She was giggling by the time she finally stopped spinning around, finding him staring at her and looking up in surprise. She wasn't expecting him, not this early in the day, but Haymitch had managed to convince Burdock to finish up the last of his chores so that he could sneak away and see Lenore Dove. He would repay the favour soon, when Burdock inevitably wanted to go and see Asterid March and get a little more than a healing balm from her.

“You're here!” Lenore Dove says, and the enthusiasm in her voice makes his head spin so hard that he almost forgets to reply.

He shrugs, faking nonchalance. “I wanted to see you.”

Lenore Dove smiles, that same smile that slowly brightens her entire face, illuminating her freckles like they were stars in the sky. “Is that right?”

“Mhm.”

Before he knew it, Haymitch was kissing her.

Lenore Dove just had that effect on him. She had that effect on anyone that knew her, though Haymitch was glad that he didn't have to fight anyone else for her affections. No, Lenore Dove only had eyes for him, even if he had no idea why. Other people were just as entranced by Lenore Dove, just in different ways. She brought out Burdock’s spark, he always left visits to the meadow with a higher spirit and an urge to sing the songs of his ancestors. She was the darling of her two uncles, Tam Amber and Clark Cermine, who had taken her in and raised her as their own. It wasn't often that Lenore Dove wandered into town, but when she did it was a sight to see. Her sweet voice and bright clothing brought a lot of eyes her way. Sid adored her, clamouring to go with him to the meadow to visit Lenore Dove and her gaggle of geese even when Haymitch desperately wanted to spend what precious time he had with her alone. Even his ma got a strange smile on her face when he spoke about her.

The only people that seemed immune to Lenore Dove’s charm were the Peacekeepers, but that certainly didn't stop her from partaking in her own quiet rebellion against the Capitol.

Lenore Dove tasted like berries and wildflowers just like she always did, and Haymitch could tell that she had been in the meadow for a couple of hours. Everything about her was intoxicating, even though he barely knew the taste of a drink, opting to sell on his bottles from Hattie for quick cash. Her lips were painted a beautiful shade of coral that made her olive skin look even more radiant, and he was positive he’d be walking home tonight with it stained over his face. Colour was one of the main ways Lenore Dove silently rebelled, using the arts that she was raised with to show the Peacekeepers that she wouldn't back down from her own heritage no matter how many times they arrested her for it.

When he came up for air, her lipstick was smudged but just as vibrant. He can't help but tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, inciting a soft sigh from her lips. “You’re so beautiful.”

Lenore Dove shakes her head and plays with her fingers. His eyes were drawn to her ring finger, picturing the day he would be able to slide the most beautiful ring he could afford onto it. “So you've said.”

Maybe he could ask Tam Amber to make him a golden ring that Lenore Dove would feel proud to wear every day. At the very least Tam Amber was a little more tolerating of him than Clerk Carmine was, so maybe he could get the older man to agree.

“And I’ll keep saying it.” Haymitch replies, lacing his fingers with hers. It was true, he would speak of her beauty until his voice was hoarse and cracked, and it still wouldn't be enough. “I love you like all-fire, remember?”

“I love you like all-fire too.” Lenore Dove whispers back, her voice taking on a much more serious edge. All-fire was Covey talk, but it belonged to the two of them all the same. Their love would burn longer than eternity, an all consuming fire that could never be blown out. Haymitch felt the all-fire all around. In the breeze that swept through the meadow. In the songs that the Mockingjays echoed in and out of the trees. In the bustle of footsteps through the market as the people of the Seam went about their day. He felt it strongest around Lenore Dove, for she was the heart and soul of his all-fire, her pull guiding him home no matter where she was.

Haymitch could barely remember a time before Lenore Dove had come into his life. They were only ten years old, not even old enough to have their names put in the reaping bowl, but that didn't mean he was any less in love. People in District 12 tended to marry young, usually to celebrate aging out of the reaping but also because the constant threat of the mines looming over their heads meant that their lives could be taken at any time. It was yet another reminder of what the Capitol could take from them. Our lives for their entertainment. Our lives to warm their homes.

People in District 12 got married young, but Haymich was sure he was the only person in his year that was seriously trying to pool as much money as he could into buying a ring for his girl. When he went to sleep at night, it was with dreams of the children they would one day have together. At least one boy and one girl, all with Covey names and all-fire in their hearts, in a world where the sun would never rise on the reaping again.

“What are you thinking about?” Lenore Dove tilts her head, the angelic tones of her voice pulling Haymitch out of his thoughts.

He smiles, allowing a blush to rise on his cheeks. “What I’m always thinking about. Us. In the future when we don't have to worry about the Peacekeepers anymore.”

It was wishful thinking, but it didn't make a lick of difference to Lenore Dove. Her eyes brighten anyway, specks of gold seeping through the green as if on fire. She lets go of his hand, her long skirt that she had handmade herself with the old dresses of her Covey ancestors twirling around her legs with a mind of its own.

“When we get married, I want it to be just us.” Lenore Dove decides, her eyes trained on the treeline above them. She seems to hesitate, screwing her features together in thought. “And Willamae and Cid. Tam Amber and Clerk Carmine, if he’ll accept it. And all of my geese. We could do it deep in the woods where no one will find us.”

Haymitch smiles. It was just like this with Lenore Dove; things just fell into place when he was around her. Of course they would have their wedding in the woods surrounded by the geese that she adored. It was just as tangible as the flowers that grew all around them in the meadow. His ma would chuckle if she saw them as they were now, staring at one another like no one else in the world existed. Haymitch could hear her voice in his head now.

You're just like your Pa, Haymitch. Sweeping your girl off her feet before you even age out of the reaping. Try not to grow up so fast, you’ll miss the simplicities of young life.

“Soon, darling.” Haymitch found himself whispering. He leans his forehead against hers, having to lean down considerably due to their height difference. “I’ll make all your wishes come true.”

There was a moment that he could remember as clear as day when he knew Lenore Dove was the one for him. At ten years old, he knew that Lenore Dove would be in his life for a very long time, but it wasn't until the afternoon of his twelfth birthday that he finally understood what that truly meant. The two of them had managed to make it through their first reaping unscathed, which was thankfully the case for the entire class of twelve year olds in District 12 that year. Haymitch’s name had been in that reaping bowl four times, once because he had to and three more times in exchange for tesserae for his family, but it was nothing compared to the thirty or forty times some of the eighteen year olds had their names in the draw. Even so, he felt nothing but relief.

The mood in the town square was always somber after the two tributes were carted away, but the families of the many kids who had survived yet another year of reaping would have their own quiet celebrations in their home once the sun fell. Haymitch had his own birthday meal with his Ma and Sid to look forward to ― the two of them tried very hard to make it special in an attempt to make up for how he was forced to spend his morning, but before going home he had snuck into the meadow to catch up with Lenore Dove.

She had crashed into him the moment that he crossed the de-electrified fence into the meadow, so hard that he made a surprised oomf as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Her words left her mouth in rapid succession, hardly stopping to breathe. “Happy birthday, Haymitch! Oh my- we made it! We made it and it's your birthday.”

He remembered how he had buried his face in her soft smelling hair and allowed himself to fully feel the weight that had been crashing down on him. If he had been chosen today, what would've become of Sid and his ma? At just twelve years old, he already felt like he had the entire world to answer for, but it all melted away the second he was in the comfort of her embrace. “We made it.”

Lenore Dove had taken note of his forlorn expression and the frown that followed was enough to make Haymitch’s heart skip a beat. “It’s your birthday. We’re not allowed to be sad, the Peacekeepers can't take that from us. Come on.”

He was so entranced that he allowed Lenore Dove to drag him all the way to the woods, near to where her mother was buried. She had only just started raising her geese, and they were all gathered around a patchwork picnic blanket that had a beautifully woven basket sitting readily on top. Her smile lit up the moment that he saw it, unable to contain her joy at managing to pull it off. Their feast was as magnificent as you could make it in District 12, full of wild berries and even some freshly baked bread. To this day, he had no idea how she pulled it off.

“You're incredible.” Haymitch had whispered hours later, as her head rested on his lap, her soft hair tickling his bare legs. “I don't know how you do it.”

She had shrugged her shoulders then, her green eyes pouring into his own. “Love is the most important thing in the world. And I’m gonna fight like all-fire for the right to keep loving.”

“I love you like all-fire.” Haymitch had replied to her. The words had slipped out, a hint of red brushing over his cheeks when her body stilled in his lap.

But Lenore Dove had grinned wildly, her long hair trailing down her back as she sat up straighter. “I love you like all-fire too, Haymitch.”

That's when Haymitch knew he was going to marry Lenore Dove.

Three reapings had passed since that day, and the feeling only got stronger. No matter what happened, he always had Lenore Dove right by his side. She was beautiful and so smart and curious, pouring her heart and soul into everything that she did. Her songs, her rebellion, her geese. Lenore Dove. Her colour. Her bird. Her name.

Haymitch loved Lenore Dove with every fibre of his being.

Like all-fire.

[nightlockrebel]

The area never ended. It twisted into itself like a maze with no exit, a nightmare stitched together with concrete and steel. The blood on her hands never dried. It flaked, then reappeared—fresh again, always fresh—like the Games were living inside her, determined not to be forgotten. And the screams… the screams played on repeat, some she recognized, others she feared she’d made herself.

Katniss sat in a tall backed chair, back straight, shoulders locked, like stillness might be the only thing keeping her from shattering. The camera stared back at her from the corner of the room. Red light blinking. Watching. Recording. Measuring her like a specimen. It had become a familiar companion. Just as unwelcome as the cold food, the white walls, and the constant hum of fluorescent lights overhead. They'd mentioned about showing Panem what had become of her. Bloodied, bruised.

Not a symbol.

But they hadn’t broken her yet—but they were trying.

She didn’t speak when they asked her questions. Not about the arena, not about the rebellion, not about Peeta. Especially not about Peeta. The mention of his name made something dangerous coil behind her ribs. Safe. They’d taken her instead. And now, she was the Capitol’s prisoner, their token Mockingjay, their shattered bird in a gilded cage.

Katniss flinched when the door hissed open. Two Peacekeepers stepped in, flanking the man who followed. Not Snow. Not yet. This one was clean-cut, smiling like a serpent. His eyes slid over her, assessing. He carried a tray—bread, water, and a single white rose.

She didn’t move.

The man smiled like he already owned her. "Today's the day, Mockingjay. You're going to sing for us." Katniss didn’t reply. Her silence was her last defiance, a brittle shield she clung to even as her body trembled from hunger and exhaustion. But her eyes—oh, her eyes still burned. Still said no. Still said you don’t win. The man nodded to the Peacekeepers behind him. That was all it took. They moved without hesitation—hands gripping her arms, dragging her from the chair as her knees buckled. She didn’t scream then. She didn’t give them that. But the sound of metal scraping against the ceiling made her flinch. The camera, black and sleek, extended from the wall, humming softly as it tilted down to follow her.

It was always watching.

This time, so was Panem.

“Don’t worry,” the man said, standing just outside the frame. “We made sure they’re all tuned in.” They forced her to her knees in the center of the room. No shackles. No chains. That would’ve made it too easy to pretend she was a prisoner. They wanted her like this—on her knees, vulnerable, broken. The symbol of the rebellion, reduced to nothing. The first jolt came without warning.

Pain, white-hot and electric, tore through her spine. Her body seized and she collapsed forward, catching herself on her palms, gasping as the taste of copper filled her mouth. A sob escaped before she could stop it. The Peacekeepers stepped back, letting the camera drink her in. Her hair clung to her sweat-slicked skin. Her breath came in short, ragged bursts. She could feel her knees bruising against the concrete, bones grinding with each convulsion.

Another shock. Worse this time. Her body arched, a scream ripped from her throat before she could swallow it down. And it was broadcast. The cry of Katniss Everdeen echoed through every district—through flickering television sets, through cracked radios, through the cold halls of District 13. Children watched. Parents turned away. And still, the Capitol watched, triumphant.

“Look what’s become of your girl on fire,” the voice cooed off-screen. “This is what rebellion brings.” Katniss sobbed, trying to push herself upright again. Her arms shook violently under her weight, but she lifted her chin. "If we burn, you burn with us" The words are raw, but there is defiance in her tone. Let them see her break—but not all the way. Never all the way. Let them see that the Capitol doesn't always win. Even if she died. They could take her body. They could take her voice. But they would never take the fire.

Even now, even kneeling, even with blood on her lip and her whole body trembling—she was still the spark. And sparks, if given air, would always burn.

@wormholxtreme

[starboy-acer]

RIPTIDE SHIP NAMES THAT I USE!

Note: I don't ship Niklaus with any of them, but I really really like the names, so I keep them. if the ship name is pink then that means i actually ship it/love it amen (aka it prolly is a rarepair developed by a mutual that i fell in love with). some of these i may not ship and plenty of these can be taken as platonic only! these are just ship/duo names for characters (using & means i see it only as platonic/familial/a duo/trio name with no romance elements at all.

ALBATRIO

fish and chips: chip/gillion [otp]

navyseal: jay/gillion

mockingjay: chip/jay

poly pirates: chip/jay/gillon [otp pt 2]

CHIP

sailorsong/scarlet captains: chip/jazz

fools gold/bargaining chip: chip & niklaus

drunken sailors: chip/caspian

chiptune: chip/queen

stoneflame: chip/igneous

treble theft: chip/jazz/queen [liam someguy thank u for this]

JAY FERIN

women in STEM: jay/ensa

pistolwhip: jay/lizzie

sharpshooter: jay/kira

bloodshot: jay/anastasia

sheshells: jay/edyn

artemis anchor: jay/aslana

jay's harem/let's go lesbians: jay/her many girlfriends (ever changing, always evolving)

high noon: jay & ichabod

GILLION TIDESTRIDER

swordfish: gillion/caspian [only person other than chip i can see him w]

dealbreaker: gillion & niklaus

sea shanty: gillion/queen

the moist ones: gillion & felipe & goobleck

buddycops: DOPPLE Gillion & Kira [thank u mast]

MULTIPLE PC + NPC POLY

fish squared and chips/sea sharp: chip/gillion/caspian

manlet, manwhore, manslayer: chip & gillion & niklaus

deal with the devil: chip & jay & gillion & niklaus

bardic inspiration: chip/jay/gillion/queen

full ensemble: chip/jay/gillion/queen/jazz

NPC RIPTIDE PIRATES, GUEST PCS, MISC NPCS

watergun/writer's block: drey/finn

robopanda/cybershot: alphonze/gryffon

cattlepunk: drey/ichabod [I ADORE THEM. thank u liam someguy]

whitefeather/widow duo: ichabod/ella teach [LOML. made & rp'd this w jynx]

dead husband society: drey/ichabod/ella [u can literally only understand this if you’ve read The Cattlepunk Fic]

starshine: drey/ella [thank jrwi reset]

pearlescent: aslana/edyn [thanks to jynx for putting me on this]

lamprey: anastasia/aslana

meta duo: felipe & goobleck

sea serpent: price & edyn

sea witch: niklaus/edyn [hangout actor au put me on this...]

GRANDBERRYS + JAZZ

waning crescent: lizzie/ava [CANON. LOVE THEM.]

rose tides: lizzie/edyn

guns n roses: lizzie/jazz

singing the blues: jazz/caspian

jam session: jazz/queen

beatbox: jazz & la alma (shoutout hangout actor au rp)

soundwaves: caspian/queen

rosewater: lizzie/caspian [tbh... i love it]

polyberry: lizzie/caspian/john/rudith (all the grandberrys)

PLS MSG ME, REPLY, REBLOG, IDC TO TELL ME EITHER MORE SHIP NAMES FOR THESE SHIPS OR GIVE ME NEW ONES TO BE ADDED IF I LIKE THEM!!!! ill update this consistently!!!

[mellarked-katnisseverdeen]

It's Not Over (Till The Mockingjay Sings)

Summery: The day Katniss is meant to be reaped to go into the Quarter Quell changes when the fourth and first District 12 victor returns mysteriously. And takes her place. A/N- So. I could write this whole fic out and be neat about posting chapters. Or I could just hold myself accountable by giving you all my first chapter and allowing you all to pester me about. Meaning- YES! Please know there is more of this coming and my goal of posting this first part is to get bugged about finishing it quickly XD. Anyways, this is gonna be so much fun to write I am extreamly excited.

"I volunteer." The voice, older and worn but confident enough to be heard above the crowd.

Katniss is almost convinced she is dreaming. This isn't real; it can't be. She is the only living female victor of District 12 and would be going into the Games again. She'd use it to save Peeta. That was the plan. Since the announcement, it had been her unwavering goal. How could anyone volunteer for her?

The crowd parts, and who comes through makes her shock even worse. An older woman, olive-skinned like her, curly dark loose around her shoulders. All her clothes were solid grey, a simple jumpsuit. The stranger strides to the podium like she is half of the close to 80 years old she must be. The people seem to part for her. Guards and several others begin moving around the stage, and even more official-looking Capitolies rush behind the giant screen behind them. Other guards approach the woman and make her stop in her effort to get onto the stage. Effie, for her part, stammers for a moment.

"I am sorry, ma'am. This Quarter Quell will be between Victors only."

"I am." The woman replies. "I am Lucy Gray Baird. I won the 10th Hunger Games, and I volunteer for this girl."

The men holding her must either be stunned into uselessness or fear no threat from the elderly tribute as she climbs onto the stage with little trouble. The murmuring continues; however, Katniss can do nothing but look around. Peeta's eyes lock with hers, sharing the confusion between them. Most of them knew that District 12 at some point before Haymitch had won a Hunger Games, but no one could really say which or whom it was. The citizens have yet to calm before several people who disappeared behind the stage return. One of them, who looks sickly pale with nerves, comes to whisper something into Effie's ear.

"As it turns out, this is entirely correct. As a victor of District 12, Lucy Gray Baird will be allowed to volunteer for Miss. Katniss Everdeen."

There is a strange silence, almost like people digesting the information simultaneously. Then, an untited applause makes the older woman preen as Effie holds up her hand. Katniss allows the moment to try and breathe normally. Because even as soon as she realizes she won't be going in, the looming reality that Peeta still could be descends like a shadow over her and steals any shred of relief.

And like that, she woke up to an even worse nightmare.

Effie tries to calm everyone when they begin to settle themselves. Once she does, she becomes somber again, looking at the second bowl. She seems to be composed to anyone else, but Katniss can note the shaking in her voice.

"Now, for the boys." She utters and swirls the two pieces of paper in the second bowl around before picking a slip. She can't disguise the pain when she says the name, though. "Haymitch Abernathy."

On her other side, Katniss watches Haymitch take steps to the podium. Every bit of her wordlessly screamed at Peeta, telling him not to open his mouth or say anything. Somehow, she hoped he could hear her and would let Haymitch keep his promise to both of them. They would do anything in their power to save their mentor, but if Peeta goes in, she doesn't know if she could breathe, not with her ability to be in the arena with him taken.

Instead, she watches Peeta grab the arm of Haymitch's shirt. A look goes between them, and in the end, the older man shakes his head and steps toward the podium. Peeta doesn't say anything, and Katniss sucks in air she didn't know she was deprived of.

Effie barely holds it together, raising his hand, and things become even more chaotic after that. As it turns out, there will be no time to allow for goodbyes after the reaping. Just after Lucy takes Haymitch's hand to shake it, everyone on stage, plus her and Peeta, are surrounded by Peacekeepers and directed to the train. Lucy walks first of the pack, as proudly as an elderly woman could. Haymitch is saying something quietly to Effie. It looks like he may even be trying to calm her.

Peeta takes her hand and makes eye contact. "You're trembling, Katniss."

"We're not-"

"It doesn't look like it."

"How?"

"I don't know. But I think we're gonna get answers sooner rather than later." He whispers as they both board the train.

[goldrushenthusiast]

What's your headcanon for Katniss and Peeta's children?

How old was Katniss when give birth to their daughter?

How many years apart between them in age?

Your headcanon for their name?

Who gets the singing and art skill from their parent?

Bonus question : please give recs of your fav everlark post-Mockingjay fanfic.

Thank you :)

@curiousthg

I believe that their children were the most loved children in all of Panem, first and foremost. While they each had minor flaws, I truly believe Katniss and Peeta would’ve been great parents. They would care so much about them. I know for sure one of them is a painter, and I like to believe the other one is not a hunter (they wouldn’t need to, but I believe they would enjoy it as a hobby), but a doctor. They would hear about their Aunt Prim often.

I imagine Katniss was around 22-24 or so when she first got pregnant and gave birth. It does seem young, but even 22 would’ve been six years since Snow’s death (if I’m doing the math correctly, I think), so I think she would’ve been okay. There was no money to worry about, or anything like that, and Katniss and Peeta had a lot of development. There might have been a timeline mentioned in the books, but I like to believe Katniss and Peeta probably took about a year to get together, and then it would’ve taken a while for Katniss to feel safe enough to even consider a child, and then more for Peeta to convince her.

Years apart, I’m going to go with, honestly, three or four. I think Katniss and Peeta would’ve wanted to fully enjoy the baby moments, and would know that having them closer in age would make that harder. I think that Katniss also would’ve appreciated the age gap she and Prim had.

Names!! For the boy, my best bet is Thresh, because of how he saved Katniss and stuff. I think if Annie didn’t have a son, they would’ve named him Finnick, but they knew Finnick would be remembered, so Thresh it is. I think his middle name would’ve been Katniss’ dad’s name. I don’t think they would’ve chosen that for his first name though, just because it’s Peeta’s child, too (although he would’ve been fully for it).

For the girl, I think we all know her first name is Prim. For a middle name, my best bet is Rue, but it would not surprise me if Katniss chose Johanna, honestly. Or Mags (or whatever Mags is a nickname for). I’d LOVE to say Lucy Gray but unfortunately that’s super duper unlikely.

I think the girl would’ve been the painter and hunter, and the boy the sensitive doctor who doesn’t like that his sister and mother hunt at all. I mentioned earlier that she wouldn’t have to, and I stand by that, so I think she just joins her mother sometimes, but I also think Katniss likes hunting better alone. I think she’d find it a bit calming and therapeutic, but would only do it like once a week or so because she wouldn’t HAVE to either.

Gosh I wish I’d read some! Unfortunately I don’t read too many hunger games fics, much less post mockingjay :(.

Thank YOU for the question, @curiouspeetamellark, and as always feel free to debate and discuss but not argue in the replies/reblogs.

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

Is there any Lucy Gray's POV fanfic out there? (Please 👉👈)

Hello @littlemarianah!

Below is a list of Lucy Gray POV fics! I've added this to future masterlists and have several more in the queue to post. Hopefully some of these are new to you!

(It's Not Over) Till the Mockingjay Sings-kits_corner (ao3) Summary: Unseen scenes from The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes from other characters' perspectives. Book canon-compliant, which means Snow is a dick (never) let go-ClaraCivry (Kat_Of_Dresden) (ao3) Summary: AU in which Coryo was also shot after Mayfair and Billy Taupe. No he's bleeding out and Lucy Gray is having *feeeelings* about it Some Snowbaird feels with extra Coriolanus whump A Baird and the Snow-Millie_Kate01 (ao3) Summary: Coriolanus Snow has always had severe paranoia and it's cost him a lot. Lucy Gray Baird is the love of his life and he was already lost to her as soon as he saw her selected in the reaping. Will his paranoid mind and thoughts keep him from loving Lucy Gray Baird freely, or will it end them? A Kiss and a Blow-calicolette (ao3) Summary: Coriolanus shows his wife Lucy Gray that riding him doesn't mean she's in charge. A Long, Unfortunate While-freezerbrides (ao3) Summary: "In the end of it all when you can hardly move and they say you’ve still got the world to go, stay strong, It’s a long, unfortunate while til curtain call" - In which Lucy Gray Baird hitchhikes away from home with a mysterious stranger, abandoning her family and God, only to be met with a fate far worse… always a daydreamer, never in the night.-bonappetite (ao3) Summary: Lucy Gray was always the songbird who dreams in the day, her mind zoning out to a place she calls “home.” There she would imagine the love of her life, Coriolanus sitting right next to her as they hunt for food in the forest after running away from society. But all goes down when the same love of her life hunts her down and almost kills her all because she lost trust in him, poor Lucy, now she is found again by the now powerful man who she once trusted. OR Lucy daydreams about Coriolanus and them living a free life, until he betrays her. Years pass in the streets living anonymously after leaving the covey, she is found again by Coriolanus, but this time, he is much more different then ever. and birds are singing (to calm us down)-MyOleander (ao3) Summary: She told herself that she was overreacting, that Coriolanus really was just trying to make her laugh. And yet, try as she might, Lucy Gray could not silence the chorus of ‘who? who? who’s?’ swarming her mind. And she couldn’t stop the image of Sejanus that answered. A twilight song-ClaraCivry (Kat_Of_Dresden) (ao3) Summary: Just a little moment with Lucy Gray and Coryo, both in 12 after the games. Music was always Lucy Gray's joy, so she asks Coriolanus to sing for her when he seems sad. Feelings are felt. A Victor's reward-Anonymous (ao3) Summary: In which Lucy Gray realizes the games never stop in the arena and how quickly a songbird can become trapped in a cage. Beneath A Moonless Sky-SleepingBeauty21 (ao3) Summary: When Lucy escaped Coriolanus in the forest, she never thought she would be back to Panem or even District Twelve. She was done with everything and everyone there. Yet, inexplicably, fate conspired to bring her back, and the choices she made after that eventually brought consequences for everyone that were still felt long after she departed from the world.

If anyone knows of a fic like this, please reblog, reply, or send an ask with fics fitting this idea and I’ll add it to the list!

As always, if you have any questions, comments, or suggestions, please feel free to shoot me an ask!

[mitsuki91]

It's that time again!

Snowbaird Valentine Event!

The prompt for today is birds u.ù

As usual, thanks to @snowbaird-events ( @burntblueberrywaffles ) for this event 💖

3. Birds

During the summer break, after he has been forced to work hand in hand with Dr Gaul on the new edition of the Hunger Games, Coriolanus has asked and been granted to spend the summer at Twelve. President Ravinstill has made the first house built in the Victory’s village available to him also because, in fact, he is taking Lucy Gray home to see her family.

Lucy Gray shakes his hand throughout the train journey, without saying anything.

She too knows that the Hunger Games are an evil he is forced to endure, but there is a limit even to his acting ability.

***

In the Twelve everything is better. They are no longer at the Seam - although coal dust still gets everywhere - and the Coveys have huddled together, happy and excited to have Lucy Gray back for a month and a half all to themselves. They have moved into the Victory’s house with them - although they take turns not to leave their house empty - and spend their days together, as happy and carefree as they have ever been.

The schools are closed and none of them have to work. Coriolanus personally makes sure that plenty of money arrives every month to support the whole family, because the idea of CC or Tam Amber going down the mine gives him the creeps.

They spend wonderful days amidst music, singing and games, and then the time also comes for a trip to the lake.

They talked about it briefly, him and Lucy Gray. Coriolanus told her that it would be no problem and, then, following her glare, confessed that he would do his best to overwrite the bad memories.

So they set off early in the morning, taking advantage of the still cool breeze of the night before the sun burns them. They walk briskly; Coriolanus grasps Lucy Grey's hand tightly and tries to concentrate on Maude Ivory's voice and the songs she sings.

Unfortunately, so do the damn birds.

Coriolanus is forced to listen to their echoes in his ears for as long as it takes for them to arrive. There are times when he thinks he'll go mad, when he just wants to squat on the ground and plug his ears - echoes and reverberations of that terrible day, of the song of the hanging tree smashing his head and shattering it into tiny pieces.

When it happens Lucy Gray understands him, and always distracts him with a kiss.

Her smile and her love are the most valuable weapon he has to fight every crisis.

***

They finally arrive.

At last they can undress and dive into the lake and make noise, and the birds above their heads, apart from a few neutral melodies, no longer sing like in his nightmares.

It's shaping up to be a perfect day.

They soak for the whole morning and then engage in various other activities and games - Coriolanus has brought a real ball and a pack of cards, and everyone enjoys themselves.

Then, after lunching on fish - caught by Tam Amber and CC - and bread and cheese - brought from home - they all lie down in the shade of the trees, praying that it will be enough to combat the heat.

Lucy Gray has laid her head on his chest and has one leg entwined with his. It seems that not even the mugginess is enough to keep them physically apart , and Coriolanus is perfectly fine with that. He caresses her hair and she begins to murmur a quiet melody.

Immediately the Mockingjay stop singing, and then imitate her. Coriolanus' hand stops and so does Lucy Gray, raising her face to his, worried.

“Sorry,” she murmurs.

Coriolanus smiles.

"It's not your fault" he replies to her "Nor theirs" he adds, under his breath.

Holding her still helps him keep his mind clear of terrible memories. The tiredness and peace that pervaded him that morning also help to keep him calm.

Lucy Gray smiles and leans in to leave a small kiss on his cheek.

"They are the true example of freedom, you know?"

"The Mockingjay?"

"No, birds in general. I'd like to be like them" Lucy Gray pauses "That's what they call me at the capital, isn't it? Songbird. I wish I had a pair of wings, and I could live and sing in the sky for the rest of my life."

Away from me.

Coriolanus turns to her and grabs her, sinking his face into her hair.

"I'm sorry," he tells her, as his heart breaks for the umpteenth time, "If you feel trapped at home.

If I'm not enough.

Lucy Gray bursts out laughing and returns his squeeze.

"I didn't say that, silly."

Coriolanus knows that he cannot afford to make demands on her. He knows that Lucy Gray is a free spirit, and that trying to force her into a trap would lead to her dying little by little, day by day. At the capital, she expresses her need for freedom by singing all over the place; she enjoys her fame as the Victor to have the doors open in any club that tickles her fancy. And Coriolanus has learnt to let her go and hush the terrible, insistent voice that tells him she will find someone else.

But here it is more difficult.

Here, in the Twelve, it is established that Lucy Gray belongs to no one.

Least of all to him.

Coriolanus hopes that it will be enough to keep showing her love day by day, to make her stay.

***

University has been going on for a fortnight when one afternoon Coriolanus comes home and Tigris announces that Lucy Gray is waiting for him in the roof garden.

Curious, after hurriedly changing his clothes, Coriolanus goes up and is stunned when he sees, in the middle of the rose garden, a huge aviary.

It is a wonderful cage, gilded and decorated with wrought-iron roses. It has inside it a lot of small bowls with grains at different heights, others with water, and various bird handles as well as hanging cuttlefish bones.

And the birds are there. Some are hopping on sticks, some have decided to take a bath, some are eating. They hum, but the wonderful melody he hears is that of Lucy Gray, standing in front of the aviary enchanting the birds.

Coriolanus, past the first moment of surprise, approaches and embraces her from behind, interrupting her song.

That is the moment when he realizes that the aviary has no little door, that the birds can come and go as they please.

Lucy Gray raises her head, staring up at him from below with a huge smile.

"There are no Mockingjay here," she tells him, "No bad memories. But, you see? Even in the city the little birds live ".

At that moment two of them come out of their cage with a shake of their wings and disappear into the sky.

"This is a safe place. With food, water, fun and fragrant flowers," Lucy Gray continues, "A home to come back to again and again. A safe choice."

You are my safe choice , Lucy Gray is telling him, the place I want to return to.

Coriolanus smiles and spins her around in his arms until they are facing each other. He leans towards her and kisses her passionately, and she reciprocates by sinking her hands into his blond curls.

Her. Lucy Gray.

His wonderful songbird.

Who chooses him day after day, never leaving him alone again.

💖💖💖

Link on ao3:

[redredredisdead]

Wildflowers and wild songbirds

Warnings: Mostly just intense fear from Lucy Gray

Word Count: 2259

Chapter 1

She ran. Ran like a fire was licking at her feet. Her feet barely touched the ground as she fled from the chaos that the seemingly peaceful afternoon could bring. The echoes of the gunshots still rang through her ears, the memory of the moment was all she could think about besides running. But now she was alone in the wilderness. A wilderness she hadn't been in since both her parents had been alive.

The Mockingjays still following her seemed to mock her panting others the gunshots and a few even mocking her singing. She never minded the Mockingjays but now she wished she could get a few moments of peace. Her heart pounded furiously against her chest, reminding her of the likely fact that Coriolanus Snow was still trying to track her, to kill her. That little thought made her keep running, no matter how much her lungs burned. It didn’t matter what she faced in the arena, Coriolanus scared her more than any tribute. 

Coriolanus Snow. A boy she loved. A boy who claimed to love her, and maybe he did, but she would never know. She shook the thought of the man with the cold, icy blue stare and focused on the ground before her. So she ran, ran until she couldn't. She ran until her lungs threatened to burst. She ran until her legs gave out.

Her body shook with exhaustion, and if she was being honest, also fear. She lay there vulnerable and exposed, surrounded by the golden hues of the setting sun. And despite herself, despite the fear that coursed through her veins she managed to close her eyes. She told herself that it would only be for a few minutes. But once her eyes closed she couldn’t stop herself from going gentle into that good night.

She stirred from her unconsciousness as the light flickered through the thick canopy. Confusion clouded her mind before the memories of the day before came rushing back. But before she could gather her bearings, voices broke through the silence, which all but startled her awake.

Panicked and slightly disoriented, she scrambled to her feet, her heart hammering against her chest. She recoiled instinctively, fear was pulsing through her much like the day before. As the voices got closer she quickly rose to her feet. If her presence wasn’t known before it definitely was now. The noise she made caused the group of people to look over in her direction. 

There were four of them, three boys and one girl. They all had guns, all of which looked primitive like the type that were produced during the Dark Ages. They all looked at her very confused. If her times in the games taught her anything it was to think fast. Quickly and with trembling hands, she seized a nearby rock and hurled it at this group of strangers barely missing one of them. 

“Stay back!” She yelled, her voice hoarse. She picked up another rock. “I won’t go back! I won’t”. There was no doubt that her voice sounded fearful. The group all looked at each other before the girl sighed and stepped forward. 

The figure lowered her gun before speaking, “Listen we don't intend-”

This time her aim was true as it hit the girl on the shoulder. “Ow! Why-Why did you do that?” The girl seemed more confused than mad or hurt. 

“Stay back!” She repeated, her voice trembling with adrenaline and fear. She clutched another rock, her knuckles white. 

The girl stepped forward cautiously, raising a hand in a pacifying gesture. “We don’t intend any harm,” she began again, her tone calm but cautious. She watched as understanding crossed her face. “You're from the districts…aren't you?” 

Her chest heaved with rapid breaths, her mind racing Memories of the arena and of Snow flooded her thoughts, each one a lesson in survival.

“I can’t trust you,” she replied, her voice wavering but determined. “I’ve been tricked before.”

The girl gave her a small smile before taking another step towards her “I can imagine. But we aren't like them.”

Her grip on the rock loosened slightly, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. Could she dare to believe them? Could she afford not to? The weight of yesterday clung to her.

She took a hesitant step back and lowered the rock but she was still ready to throw it again. In response the girl gently and slowly put the gun on the ground. “There, now you” the girl said slowly.

After a moment of hesitation she mirrored the action. The tension in the air seemed to ease slightly. 

“I don't want any trouble, but I won't hesitate to defend myself” She said as the girl approached. She kept a watchful eye on the rest of the group. 

The stranger nodded in understanding as she approached “I get it, we all do what we have to do to survive. '' They weren't far apart and though she felt safer than earlier she still had her guard up.

A moment of silence passed between them, the only sound was the gentle breeze rustling the grass. The girl walked a bit closer before offering her a hand “What's your name?”

“Lucy Gray Baird”

And that was how you met her.

Your small patrol group ended up taking her back to town. She was currently in a small empty shack scarfing down food. You sat a little ways off staring at said shack deep in thought. What to do? What would happen to her? This had never happened before. 

“She's an interesting one isn't she?” You hear the voice of Eddy. He was the ‘leader’, well at least as close as this group had, also known as your uncle.

“I suppose” Your gaze was still fixated on that shack.

He chuckled a deep chuckle, “Well I'm afraid to say that you have a new job” You shake your head already knowing what he’s going to say, “Yes. Figure out why she's here, that’s all I ask” 

“I could tell you why,” You say firmly. She was just a scared girl who was running, from what you weren't sure

“You don't know that for sure,” He said gruffly before shaking your shoulder “Now go.” He said leaving no room for argument. 

With another sigh you stand up from the chair, “Fine.” 

You stride towards the shack, the uneven wooden planks of the patio creak beneath your boots. As you approach, the scent of stale bread and dried meat wafts through the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of the surrounding forest. 

Pushing open the worn door, you step into the dimly lit interior. The room is sparse, furnished only with a crude wooden table and a few rickety chairs. At the center of it all sits the mysterious woman, her back turned to you as she continues to devour her meal with gusto. Clearing your throat to announce your presence, you watch as she stiffens slightly before slowly turning to face you. Her gaze meets yours, and you can't help but feel a shiver run down your spine at the intensity of her stare.

“Miss Lucy Gray,” you say as a small greeting before moving to one of the empty chairs that was as far away from the food as possible. You were always taught to never get close to an animal that was eating. “I'm here to talk”

“Talk about what?” Her accent was strange, you were sure yours was strange to hers as well. After all, self isolated groups tended to create their own dialects. 

You take a moment to collect your thoughts, observing Lucy Gray's puzzling demeanor. Despite the simplicity of her surroundings, there's an undeniable aura of intrigue surrounding her.

"You’ve caused a big upset, Miss Lucy Gray," you begin making sure to choose your words with care. "People are concerned you see? People around here are easily scared. Some think you’re here on Capitol orders."

“And what if I am?” She asks in a slightly teasing tone, a stark difference from every other word that crossed her mouth.

You find yourself smiling slightly, “Well I know you're not,” you slightly lean forward. “Call it intuition but you don't seem like the type”

She let out a soft giggle that echoed through the dimly lit room. “Intuition? Darlin’ your reading far to much into this” 

“Perhaps…” You say all but ending the conversation. 

She hums and leans back in her chair. She hums a song that is vaguely familiar, like a song from your childhood that you never hear again but can describe to perfect detail. 

“Say,” You begin, “How does getting out of this windowless shack sound?” 

“Amazing” Lucy Gray states with a small smile. 

“Alright then,” You say standing.

She follows after you quickly, “This isn’t you just trying to butter me up is it?” 

“Slightly,” You say, glancing at her, “But I also just want to get out of this damn shack,” She lets out a laugh as you open the door.

“Appreciate the honesty…how’s your shoulder?”

“Just fine, don't worry about it” You say, placing a hand on her lower back to make her take that final step outside. You retract your arm as she does.

As you step out of the shack, the cool breeze greets you, carrying the scent of pine and wildflowers. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting long shadows across the landscape. You take a deep breath, savoring the feeling of freedom that comes with being outdoors.

The girl beside you smiles, a real open smile.  “Last time I was this far north was when the Covey could still travel freely…everything out here’s so different than in District 12.”

You watch as her gaze wanders over all the small cabins that line the clearing and at the people who have yet to notice her presence. “Let’s go before they mob us” You smile, leading her down a narrow path that winds its way through the trees. "Nature has a way of changing, yet staying the same," you remark. "It's comforting in a way, don't you think?" 

She nods, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Definitely. There's something about being out here that makes everything else seem insignificant."

“And you find that comforting?” 

She just shrugs and begins to hum again. The sounds of birdsong fills the air, and the rustling of leaves accompanies your footsteps. The world feels alive and vibrant, a stark contrast to the stifling confines of the shack.

After a while, you reach a clearing overlooking a vast expanse of rolling hills and meadows. The sky above is painted in shades of orange and pink, the setting sun casting a warm glow over the landscape.

"Wow," Lucy Gray breathes, her eyes wide with awe. "This place is incredible."

You nod, feeling a sense of pride at having brought her here. "It's one of my favorite spots," you admit. "A place where you can forget about the troubles of the world and just... be.” You say feeling stupid at your poor explanation.

“Gosh, the grass is so green here” She says, basically falling into the grass. 

“When our people first came here some flowers were so tall, it’s said a man on horseback would only show his head.” You say sitting down beside her. “In the summer the uplands-” You say pointing to the tops of the hills, “The grasses become strewn with lilac, it’s a smell unlike any other, and later on in the season Indian Paintbrush grows in red an yellow wherever the sun hits. So if you think this is pretty then…” You trail off. 

“Sounds wonderful,” She says simply. You couldn’t tell if she was fully listening.

“In June however the grass turns brown but not really,” She lifts an eyebrow at you, “It’s more gold and saffron and red…more of an indescribable color,” 

She nods in understanding. “Is it like that in the Districts?” You ask politely, giving her room to speak.

“No…mostly buttercups and daisies” She says her accent thick. “But not always…water comes in thirty year cycles,”

“Describe it,”

She glances at you before turning her attention back to the horizon. “Well I don't know much personally but everytime I talk about the landscape to someone older than me they always give me an earful,” You let out a breathy laugh at that.

Her lips twitch up, “There’s usually 5 or 6 good years and the land is covered in bright green grass. Then there’s the 6 or 7 pretty good years and then the dry years would come. The land dries up and the grasses head out leaving great big dry patches of grass and leave the streams dry as bone.” 

"It sounds like a dance," you muse. “Like a waltz”

She nods, her eyes shining. "A dance indeed. And we're but mere spectators, witnessing the rhythm of the land."

“Interesting way of saying that,” You say staring at the way the setting sun casts its different hues onto Lucy Gray’s face. 

As if to explain herself she says “I'm a performer…or was,” a sadness crosses her face.

“I liked it” You say absentmindedly. 

“Thanks-”

"No, thank you for sharing that with me," you say gently, cutting her off. She smiles a soft smile. 

With those words hanging in the air, you both turn your gaze back to the horizon, appreciating the land. And as the sun dips lower in the sky, painting the landscape with hues of gold and saffron, you let the worries of everything slip away.

A/N:

No idea how long this little idea of mine is going to last or how long it will take between chapters but I hope you enjoyed! <3

Also if anyone would like to be added to a taglist just let me know!

[heavensbeehall]

"The Hunger Games", Chapter 16

Buy the book here.

Part 2: The Games

Chapter 16. A cannon wakes Katniss. Rue has breakfast. The two plot and discuss the pin. Rue teaches Katniss the mockingjay song. Katniss goes to the Careers' camp and spends a long time trying to figure out what the Boy from Three did. Foxface makes an appearance. Katniss blows up their food.

Days Peeta Has Been Bleeding Out: 3, Cato says it's a miracle he's not dead.

Days Since Emily Fucked Up the Chapter Numbers: 0 (I no count good.)

My Thoughts:

-- I like the theory that RUE is "the mockingjay." She is the one who loves singing and uses the mockingjay's calls (like Lucy Gray does). Katniss says, "I rank music somewhere between hair ribbons and rainbows in terms of usefulness". She's not a songbird. Rue is. Rue brings music back to the world of Panem when she sings here. I think it is the bond between Rue and Katniss, that spans two districts that really unites Panem against Snow. Keeping them isolated, and thus their revolts isolated, makes the districts weaker.

-- The way Rue talks about Thresh ("Thresh could kill him easily") makes me think she wanted to team-up with him. But if I am right that Thresh's strategy was to pretend to be big and mean, then he couldn't be seen being kind to her. And that makes me sad. Although I guess Rue couldn't have stayed with him in the field because she is best in trees and it would've made her vulnerable.

Quotes:

You can see the glint of excitement in her eyes. In this way, she’s exactly the opposite of Prim for whom adventures are an ordeal.

And I come to know Rue, the oldest of six kids, fiercely protective of her siblings, who gives her rations to the younger ones, who forages in the meadows in a district where the Peacekeepers are far less obliging than ours. Rue, who when you ask her what she loves most in the world, replies, of all things, “Music.”

She is a Disney Princess, guys. Too good for this world.

The land mines were disabled after the sixty seconds we stood on the plates, but the boy from District 3 must have managed to reactivate them. I’ve never seen anyone in the Games do that. I bet it came as a shock even to the Gamemakers.

I suppose the Boy from 3 had to make peace with the Careers to be allowed to be exposed to get the mines. But I wonder what the overall plan was to then use them against the Careers? Or was he going to do something else?

[billysgirllol]

“oh, look at that, they do seem pretty calm. hm?” eyes glancing up to the trees, amusement filling her spirit as billy plays along about the ‘neighbors’. shortly a laugh escaping her at his comment about hollerin’ like a madman, covering her mouth to be a little polite. “what do ya mean? birds do chirp around way up in the trees if you listen closely, one was desperate for food so i helped dig up some worms.” she replies, wondering if he’s skeptical of her. “and the mockingjays. they’ll sing whatever you tell ‘em to…” thinking back, how she intentionally had them singing to the tune to her voice to stir coriolanus even crazier. alright, maybe that was harsh of her, maybe she did go too far. but — he was going to kill her sooner than later, she justifies it with that. and him LYING to her. “well, you’ll have to wait on that.” a sheepish laugh as she holds her shirt to her chest, hand gently pushing him forward. she didn’t put her bra on, she’s suddenly very hyper aware— but she can’t tell him that. cheeks flush. and then he’s fixing her blanket around her, how doting of wn action that it leaves her momentarily stunned. “i am, i am.. i’ll be goin’ doin’ that now.” warm eyes flickering up on him, a little bashful still as she moves in past him. finding this concerning nature of his alarming in a surprised endearing way. “well, i figured she’d be alright for a few minutes… despite her young age.” lucy gray briefly turns to him once she stops at the kitchen table, laughter sounding from her again. how couldn’t she laugh at that? “or i’ll just go ahead an’ admit… i’m not the best mother.” amused smile on her face as she dumps out the nuts and rose hip onto the circular table from her shirt.

"well, i thought you might know someone else. since this is a real busy village after all." she sasses back, out here in the middle of the woods, not a soul to be found. "i was listenin' to birds. dug up some things." she replies shortly, taking a step back up on the porch step, "i am." the brunette confirms, eyes flickering up on him briefly before reaching the top of the porch. "that's sweet of you. i didn't go far, though. i was just right behind here." trying to reassure him, wondering if it's coming from a place of care or he's trying to just seem worried so he can lead her up to taking her back to his district and then get caught. she did come back to him, after all though. so that's got to say something on her instincts to trust him at least a little. eyes falling on his finger touching her lifeless curl, feeling embarrassed her hair's such a wreck and in a rats nest. "i'll show you inside, it's cold out here. did you get those sticks?"

[hvbris]

𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄 & 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐘 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘 @dcmure​ from: tie.  for your muse to adjust an article of clothing on my muse + reverse

the garment was simple , though due to how this was the capitol , it still had a certain quality about it that made it special in a way. the color was lovely on miss gray , & valerie wished she was able to tell her ; if only she were able to say anything at all. instead , the young girl simply smiles at her in the mirror , adjusting the fabric so that it lay the right way , valerie biting on her bottom lip as she assesses her work , doing up the last of the buttons on the back. when she was done , she takes a step back so that miss lucy can make her own improvements if she wishes to , silently waiting if she needed more assistance. // 

Lucy Gray did not like getting dressed with someone else’s help, she was not used to it at all, and found it demeaning for the poor Avox. But she also did not have the heart to refuse, to push away the girl, with her soft smile and softer hands. With a strange mixture of gratitude and guilt, she took the girl’s hands. “Thank you,” she said, knowing full well one was never supposed to thank an Avox. But if she was to be a prisoner in this house, then how was she any different than her? 

“It’s perfect,” she said, though she had not even checked. The dress was one of hers, while the many dresses Coriolanus had gifted her stood, untouched, in the closed. 

[lemonluvgirl]

OMG all those things are so soft --- maybe 1, 15, 21, or 28?!! ah cannot decide they literally are all so cute and just "🥺"

1. slow dancing

15. bed warm

21. this is a very long hug now sort of hug

28. forehead touches or nose nudging or any soft variation on the theme

Well, this was a tall order for a writer to fulfill. Especially a writer like me. I’m really bad at fluff. If you have read any of my stuff on AO3 dear anon, you will notice I don’t have a rating below T. But for you my fluffy-softy loving friend, I will give it my best shot. So here goes. (not beta read)

________________________________________________________________

Poor Peeta Mellark, I thought as I stepped on his toes for what had to be the third time during this ridiculously long slow dance our friends had forced us into. 

“Sorry,” I mumbled as I took my foot off his and looked down to make sure I didn’t automatically step on him again. 

“It’s ok, Katniss.” He replied kindly as he pulled me closer. His large right hand felt warm in mine as did his left one, that was gently spread over my waist. He smelled like a bakery mixed with some kind of minty aftershave. I scowled down at his shiny dark shoes that were now scuffed because of my clumsiness.  

It’s not a real date. I told myself sternly, just in case my hormones decided to make more out of this than it really was. 

“It’s not, really. I’m sorry you got stuck with me tonight.” I said, wanting to cut through the crap and his polite martyr routine. If only to keep my own feelings from running away with me. 

“Stuck with you? Are you kidding me? More like you got stuck with me.” He responded so sincerely that I had to look up into his bluer than blue eyes just to see if I heard him correctly. 

When I locked eyes with him under the twinkling reflective stars hanging down from the ceiling of our worn out high school gymnasium, all I could see was his earnestness. But I still couldn’t believe it. 

“Oh, please Peeta, you can’t stand there and tell me that our friends didn’t put you up to this and made you ask me out last minute when Gale bailed on me, so that I wouldn’t feel left out.” I say, voice laced with annoyance. It was one thing to act like a nice guy who was helping out a friend, it was quite another to take the nice guy act so far as to try and make the girl believe it was anything other than a pity date. 

Peeta shook his head, his blond eyebrows barely visible in the dim light, scrunched together and he rolled his lips inward for a second, only to let them back out with a huff. 

“I mean, Finnick did call me to let me know you were—” He began to say but cut himself off embarrassedly. I had no idea why he was embarrassed. He wasn’t the one left without a date the week before junior prom. 

“Left hanging?” I filled in the awkward blank he left. Then I grimaced at how pathetic it sounded. 

“Finnick didn’t put it quite like that.” 

I let out a scoffing laugh. 

“Oh, so how did Finnick describe my ‘situation’?” I asked, intrigued as to what our mutual friend could have said, since subtly wasn’t Finnick’s forte. 

Peeta took a deep breath. “He called me up and said, ‘Hey Peet, word on the grapevine is that the Mockinjay is gonna be flying solo next weekend since that jackass Hawthorne decided to sign up for the marines and couldn’t wait a couple weeks to take his girlfriend to prom before he got himself shipped off to bootcamp. This is your chance bud, better take it.’” 

I can’t help but snicker at Peeta’s impression of Finnick. Its spot on. Plus Finnick was the one who had come up with my nickname of the Mockingjay, since I was the only one in our bunch of friends who could even remotely carry a tune. It often came in handy when we played drunk singing games. Which Finnick and Peeta were the worst at. I almost snort remembering how off key they usually are—but then I replay the words Peeta said and stop short. 

“Gale’s not my boyfriend.” I inform Peeta quietly.

“I would hope not, after the stunt he pulled tonight.” Peeta says in a low voice, that could almost be mistaken for a growl. The underlying anger in his tone confuses me. 

“No, I mean I couldn’t break up with him for bailing on me, since we were never dating. He agreed to take me to Prom since we’re best friends, to get my parents off my back. They worry I’m too anti-social.” I explained. 

Peeta’s eyes grow round with surprise, but then he just chuckles to himself as he grins and sings me down into an impromptu dip. 

I feel the breath rush out of me and I struggle not to give into my natural reflex and fight for control back. I’d probably just knock us both down with my inept flailings. I hold onto his thickly muscled shoulder and his strong forearm, marveling at the way he keeps me suspended for a beat longer than seems humanly possible. 

Then, Peeta quickly brings me back right side up, and hugs me close to him. I automatically hug him back, confused by his actions but unable to stop myself from reveling in the warmth and security he provides as I nestle my head against his sturdy chest. 

We’re not even dancing anymore. We’re just standing in the middle of the room, wrapped in this strange embrace, but I couldn’t care less. It feels so right, being here in his arms. I can’t remember the last time someone held me like this, hugged me this long. It must have been years ago, when I was a little girl, and I still curled up in my father’s lap for bedtime stories and lullabies. 

“This whole time I thought you were taken.” Peeta murmurs as he gently lowers his forehead to mine, his eyes closed and his voice oddly wistful. 

“Oh.” Is all I say, because I don’t really understand what he’s trying to convey to me. But I like the sound of his voice, low and full of soft tones like velvet starlight. And I like his arms around me, and the way his warm breath just ghosts over my skin drawing goosebumps and tingles from inside of me. 

“I never thought I could compete with him-with Gale. You two were like two peas in a pod, always together, always in sync.” He says. 

I look up at him through my mascara-ed lashes in puzzlement. 

“Why would you want to compete with Gale?” I ask incredulously. 

“Oh, Katniss, did you ever think that maybe I wanted to be the other pea in your pod? The one who was by your side, synced up to your beautiful brain?” He says lightly, almost playfully. And while his words are light, his eyes are dark, and there’s a heaviness to his stare that let me know this is the absolute truth. 

Peeta Mellark wants me. Me. 

I’m sure someone could have knocked me over with a feather at that moment, my knees felt so weak. I clutched at Peeta’s sturdy frame for strength, and he obligingly held me secure in his arms, unwilling to let me fall. The reaction is so sweet, so tender, that I feel a strong surge of warmth bubble up in my chest and spread out to the rest of my body, making me feel light and effervescent like I’m made of joy and air. 

“You did?” I ask, finally finding my voice. 

“I did.” He confirms quietly as he begins rocking side to side with me again, resuming our slow dance. I don’t reply, I just tangle my fingers in his wavy ash blond hair and rub my forehead slowly against his, nudging my nose along his freckled cheeks and silently trying to convey how happy his confession makes me. Peeta nudges me back, quiet and seemingly content as I am to have me so close, and relaxed in his arms. 

~

Later when everyone heads out for the obligatory stay at the fanciest local hotel room, Peeta and I hold hands in the limo. I tell him it's fine to rent a room with a single queen size bed instead of a double. His eyes grow wide, but he hands over his credit card with a shy smile. 

We lay down underneath the covers tenting them and resting our foreheads against each other again as we whisper secrets. About all those times we stole glances at each other across classrooms and hallways. About the missed opportunities and the longing we both tried so hard to conceal. 

We kiss, slowly, and become very acquainted with each other’s lips. Nothing else happens, since this is all so new to both of us. Not the yearning, or the desire, we have both apparently been thinking along the same wavelength for years and never said anything to the other, but the opportunity to see where this could go without rushing into it is still very new. We fall asleep nestled together under the hotel sheets, fully clothed but still it feels intimate and oh so perfect and warm. 

[hvbris]

𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐇𝐀𝐌 & 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐘 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘 @conscriptur

"Oh yes, she has the prettiest voice," she replied softly, "when this little one sings, all the mockingjays listen." Just like her mom. A gentle smile curved her lips as she poured the hot tea in two cups and then mixed in a little bit of milk.

"Please, call me Lucy Gray!" She placed the two cups on the table, chuckling. "No need to be so formal with me."

"You're very right, Graham. There's nothing better in this life than doing what we love. It's worth a little bit of pain, if you ask me." Or a lot of pain, she thought to herself, feeling a pang of pain where the scar was, on her flank. "I'm sure she's grateful for your help. Some people just have a strange way of showing their gratitude."

As he walked in, he made an effort to greet the young girl but merely opened his mouth to say hello before she ran off. He chuckled at the reaction of the girl. He supposed singing truly did run in the family as he knew of the history of Lucy Gray in the District with her incredible voice. "Well, I do hope she comes back round to share her singing with me. I bet she has a nice little voice."

Graham took the offer to sit setting his bag on the table beside him. "Thank you again for letting me stay for a bit, ma'am." He expressed to the older woman fumbling his fingers upon the strap of his bag. A shake of his head at the mention of his work. "Life's been good, ma'am, and enjoying the work I do at the bakery. Some days is not as easy as others to get up even before the sun wants to but I enjoy the time at the bakery. That's what makes it worth it, getting to do what I love each day. And of course, the lady loves the help as well even if sometimes I get more lectures than thanks from her."

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

#3, 12, 14 and 25 for the end of year fan fic ask game!

I'm literally about to scream because my Tumblr app crashed and ate my almost-finished reply I had written out, so now I have to redo it shsjdhdjsjs

3. favorite line/scene you wrote this year

the entirety of this one, which is my most poetic fic I think I've ever written, and also this scene from the prompt batch I did last month :) ALSO the entirety of my fic for the bad decisions that we made is one of my favorite things I've written, I think! I'm bad at picking shdjdbsjsk

12. favorite character to write about this year

Sylvie from the Loki show, or Narvin from the DW Gallifrey audio series! it's a tie.

14. a fic you didn’t expect to write

I write most of my fics on the spur of the moment, so like... most of them??? but a couple specific ones from this year are this Bandstand fic and this Sylki one!

25. a fic you read this year you would recommend everyone read

well not everyone is in the same fandoms as me and as you can tell, I suck at picking favorites, so some of my current recs from this year are How Rue Became the Mockingjay (THG), Reflections (Doctor Who), singing in the back of your mind (Loki series), and Like I Might Fade (also Loki series). I have.... many favorite fics but I won't list them all haha, i can dig up my earlier fic recs post if anyone wants me to, and my AO3 bookmarks also kinda act as a rec list 😂

end of year fanfic asks