The One Who Wandered @jebstonedistrict12 - Tumblr Blog

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Spotted in the Capitol: Jeb Stone and Farren Lingard, the two most recent victors of the Hunger Games. Rumor is Jeb isn't coming back as a trainer this year. But is he ready to become District 12s new mentor? And what's in store for Miss Lingard?

#lol I had to.

Lonely At The Top || Jeb Stone Playlist

1. Fools Gold -Katie Herzig

From the time you said “Hello” and “What’s your name?” You were a work of art, play me like a little game Now you can break my heart, and I will love you just the same

2. The Absence of Your Company- Kim Richey

If you're better off without me If you truely do believe that you are better off without me Thats how you should be.

3. Almost Lover- A Fine Frenzy

So long my luckless romance My back is turned on you I should have known you'd bring me heartache, almost lovers always do

4. The Day Before The Day- Dido

I didn't get to say goodbye the day before the day Was trying to get to work on time, that's why I turned away And missed the most important thing you've ever tried to say I've lived my life without regret until today

5. Where Is My Mind-Yoav

Your head will collapse If there's nothing in it But you'll ask yourself Where is my mind?

6. Empty Chairs At Empty Tables- Les Miserables

That I live and you are gone. There's a grief that can't be spoken. There's a pain goes on and on. Phantom faces at the window. Phantom shadows on the floor. Empty chairs at empty tables Where my friends will meet no more.

7. Best Friends- The Perishers

I remember your mouth, what it said, how it kissed me, And how it was burdened, not like anyone else And I remember your feet, I saw them dance to the new beat And When I asked you to, they walked a mile in my shoes.

8. Keep Breathing- Ingrid Michaelson

But all that i know is i'm breathing. All i can do is keep breathing. All we can do is keep breathing now.

9. After The Storm- Mumford & Sons

And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears. And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears. Get over your hill and see what you find there, With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair.

Epilogue || Life Goes On

I’m not sure if was fate or some kind of cruel trick, but when they led me to my mansion in the Victor’s Village I froze. The building I was staring up at was the very same one Coral and I used to sneak off to; the place I would go when I needed to escape. I stared at that golden gazebo for a long while, recalling the way Coral and I had danced together there. She had looked so beautiful standing in the moonlight that night. Now, somehow, this safe haven of mine has become my prison. I still come to the gazebo sometimes at night when I need to think, or when I feel like sketching. They told me I needed a hobby and since drinking apparently doesn’t count, I decided to take up drawing. Although Caspian and Kerra adamantly disagree, I don’t think I’m very good at it. It calms me though, so I often come outside to sketch the flowers. It makes me think of Victory. She probably looks down at my feeble attempts and laughs. I like to think she’s looking down on me at least; her and Coral both. I’m sure Eames is busy living out his forever with Olive. And I’m happy for that. I am.

I’ve been gradually feeling more like myself ever since my trip to District Five. With the help of my siblings and Caspian I think there may be some hope for me to finally settle down and be happy. My old friend Castor has been stopping by lately too. Coral and I had known him since we were children. We had grown apart since then, but I guess Coral’s death led him to the decision to patch things up. I’m glad for it. Friends are a thing I’ve been short on as of late. He’s proven himself to be a pretty decent drinking buddy too. It’s just nice to have someone to talk to aside from Caspian.

I never go anywhere without my flask; the one that used to belong to Eames. No one really seems to question it though. How can they after everything I’ve been through? Caspian doesn’t seem to mind much. Sometimes I think he prefers me drunk; like the night we met. It’s easier to gain a little bit of my old self back when I’ve had a few anyway. It helps me forget. And that’s all I want to do these days; forget and move on. I can’t drink whiskey any more though. Anything but that. He might be shallow and ignorant at times, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t like having Caspian around. I know I’ll never love him; not the way I loved Eames at least, but I think maybe he’s good for me. With him I’m able to be my old self again. And somehow I haven’t managed to scare him away yet. He holds me when I wake up screaming from the nightmares, when I snap and lose my lucidity for a moment, and the monster comes up for air. But there are these moments when I feel as though I’m not much more that a trophy to him; a beautiful Victor that he claimed as his, that he can show off. Either way, I think maybe with the help of Caspian and just the right amount of gin I can finally move on and be happy again. I owe it to my friends to at least try; to not let their sacrifice go in vain. In some small way, Caspian was Eames’ last gift to me. He was the one who forced me to go talk to him after all. I like to think that Caspian was Eames’ way of trying to give me what he couldn’t.

It didn’t take long for Caspian to get tired of the ‘rustic charm’ of District 12 though, as he put it. Even living in the nicest mansion, nothing can compare to the Capitol I suppose. He visits the there often. Sometimes I come with him, but often I stay home and appreciate having some alone time. I find ways to pass the time. I’ll sit outside and sketch the flowers, or have a drink with Castor. Kerra refused to give up the old blacksmith shop, so sometimes I go and watch her work, like old times or play with Bran and Arya. There are still times where I breakdown or loose lucidity. It took me a year to muster enough courage to watch a playback of my games. I sat there on my 18th birthday with Castor and Caspian on either side of me and a drink in hand. There had been so much of the games I hadn’t seen. After all, I only knew what had happened within my own alliance and the few clips I had seen at my final interview. Since then, I did everything I could to avoid it. As I watch, there is one moment that nearly renders me silent for a week. I watch as Eames and Olive share an intimate moment in the cornucopia as I sit outside, picking at my cake. But that’s not the part that gets me. Suddenly the screen flashes to Coral, sitting in the arena alone and scared. But despite her fatigue, she manages to muster the most genuine smile I have ever seen. She looks straight up at the camera. “Happy Birthday Jeb.” She nearly whispers. I feel Caspian’s hand on mine as tears begin to roll down my cheeks. As Caspian’s hand slips into mine, I know Coral’s right. When those words came off her lips she knew I would see them one day. She never doubted me. In fact she gave up her life willingly for me so that I could sit here one day and have this moment. Even if I couldn’t have Eames, I was so very loved that it was almost overwhelming. I smile as the tears continue to fall. They’re not sad tears anymore though, they’re happy ones. They’re the tears of a boy who knows how lucky he is. They’re the tears of a boy who can finally let go.

Caspian.

District 12 || Home || A Bittersweet Victory

It feels strange to be back in this place. The moment I set foot on the train to the Capitol I said my goodbyes to District 12. In that instant, when I sat down net to Coral and watched the trees pass me by, the most I had hoped for was that my body would still be in one piece when they returned it to my family. I had accepted my fate; made my peace, but it seems fate had other plans in mind. From the moment we arrived at the Capitol and even before then, I began playing out the games in my head. Over and over again I imagined all of the horrible ways I might die; the ways Coral might die. I imagined being slaughtered in the bloodbath, having my throat slit open, being shot at with arrows, but never in any of my wildest dreams did I picture this moment right now; stepping off the train and standing back on familiar ground; coming home. Home. It sounds almost foreign now. As if District 12 was just another destination on the tour instead of a place I have lived my entire life. I stand there for a moment and close my eyes, taking a deep breath. It smells of soot and pine; of the smoke of recently extinguished a fire, the damp scent that’s left after rainfall. It smells like home. But somehow it still feels all wrong. I know I shouldn’t be standing here alone. A tightness forms in my chest as I think of Coral. The guilt I feel at being her without her is overwhelming. It tugs at my heart like a stone sinking to the bottom of the ocean. For a moment I see her imprinted on the back of my eyelids. I picture her smile, the way her face lit up when I managed to get a laugh out of her. Smiles had been so very hard to come by in those last days. I wonder if she will ever be able to forgive me; if I will ever be able to forgive myself.

It takes a gentle hand on my shoulder to snap me out of my daze. Asella stands next to me giving me a sympathetic gaze that tells me she knows exactly how this must feel for me. She remembers. Her lips form a sad smile, one that both encourages me and depressed me at the same time. “Ready?” She asks, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze. I nod, taking another deep breath. “It’s time to go home.” She adds. Hadrian and Caspian emerge from the train a moment later, engrossed in some petty conversation about the latest fashion trends in the Captiol, or something just as trivial. Caspian glances over at me. Allowing Hadrian to return to the train for something it seems he’s forgotten, Caspian walks over to me. He slips an arm around my waist and we stand there together, staring out at District 12. He seems rather unimpressed, turning his nose up a bit as if he’s smelt something rotten. “So this is it, huh?” He asks, clearly skeptical. I nod, leaning into him, needing the contact. “You’ll get used to it.” I say, slipping my hand into his. He looks down at me with a quirked eyebrow, still unconvinced. “If you say so.” He replies with a laugh.

As I squint out into the distance, I can just make out a handful of figures approaching. As they come closer I realize it’s the Mayor. He’s being escorted by two peacekeepers. I allow myself to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. As if I needed escorts. Like there was anywhere I could run to now. The Mayor greets me, shaking my hand excitedly and going on about all the arrangements he has made. I’m thankful when Hadrian finally emerges from the train because it means we can get going. We’re still quite a ways from the square when I begin to here the excitement. As we get closer I ‘m surprised by the turnout. It seems all of District 12 is present, even some of the people who are usually housebound; the sick and the elderly. I suppose it’s been so long since we’ve had a victor that they had to come see it for themselves. The Mayor leads me to the back entrance of the Justice Building where I’m assuming I’ll be given a few moments to collect my thoughts before going up on stage. I’m caught off guard however, when I’m led to the room where I said my goodbyes. I stand there for a moment, glancing from the door to the Mayor before he ushers me in. “Go on.” He says with a smile. “You’ve got fifteen minutes.” I open the door hesitantly, and the sight that awaits me is, without a doubt, the most wonderful thing I have seen since I stepped onto the train. I’ve barley managed to get a foot in the door before I hear the pitter patter of little feet. “Jeb!” Arya shouts in her little voice, tackling my leg and clinging on for dear life. Bran isn’t far behind her, wrapping his arms around my waste. He buries his face into my side and begins to sob. “We thought-“ He says through muffled tears. “We thought you weren’t coming back.” I bend down so I’m at their level and ruffle his hair playfully. “And what kind of big brother would I be if I did that?” I tease. Arya raises her arms and I oblige, lifting her up and resting her on my hip. When I stand up I finally notice her. Kerra is standing in the middle of the room just looking at me. He eyes are filled with tears. “Kerra.” I say, staring back at her with eyes that admit how much I’ve missed her these past weeks. She approached me slowly, wrapping her arms around me opposite Arya. She holds me for a long moment before finally speaking. “Welcome home.” She says with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on her face. I hear the sound of the doorknob turning and the Mayor pokes his head in. “It’s time.” He says, nodding for me to join him. “Oh, one more thing.” I say, turning back to the three of them as they usher me out of the room. “Thanks for the cake.”

My mouth feels dry as I stand behind the stage, waiting for the Mayor to finish his big introduction. The thought of talking about Coral makes my stomach lurch. What was I supposed to say? How did they expect me to stand there and gloat about a victory that cost me my best friend’s life? My best friend. The thought makes my chest feel tight. I don’t have time to dwell on it however, before Hadrian’s hands are on my back, pushing me out onto the stage. “It’s show time darling!” He says in that ridiculous voice of his. And before I know it I’m standing there like a deer in headlights, peering out into the audience. For a place that was filed with excitement moments ago, the entire District seems to freeze as I emerge from the Justice Building. I can practically her a pin drop as I walk up to the podium. I stand there for a moment before clearing my throat awkwardly. I close my eyes as I try to remember what I rehearsed with Hadrian, what I was supposed to say, what the Capitol wanted to hear. But before my mind had time to catch up, words started falling off my lips.

“Our names define us. They give us a title, they tell of our past, where we come from, who we are. But somehow, when it’s being read off a tiny slip of paper, a name can become a worse weapon than any blade.” I pause for a moment, letting my words sink in. “You would think that the moment my name was drawn from that bowl was the worst moment of my life.” I close my eyes, recalling that moment, the way my heart sank to the bottom of my chest. “Well you’d be wrong. The worst moment of my life was the moment my sister’s name was called and I knew there was nothing I could do about it.” It must be obvious right now how hard I’m fighting to maintain my composure. I take a deep breath. “But you all know the rest of that story.” I say with a sad laugh. “My best friend wasn’t willing to watch me fight my sister to the death, to sit idly by while my siblings lost the only thing that hadn’t been taken from them yet. So she did the only thing she could; she did what a best friend is meant to do. She stayed by my side.” It’s becoming hard to fight the tears now, but I don’t stop because I know this needs to be said. “Since the founding of Panem, District 12 has never known a volunteer. Not one person in our district has ever shown that kind of bravery- until her.” I look up, my gaze confidant, challenging. “So don’t congratulate me. Don’t stand here and talk about how District 12 finally has another victor. In fact, don’t give me any credit at all. Give it to her. Give it to Coral. The girl who was brave enough to sacrifice all she had for a friend. She’s the real victor. Not me.”

The words linger in the air awkwardly for a long moment. I’m beginning to think I’ve managed to make a fool of myself. And that’s when I see the first hand raise into the air. It’s followed by a second and then a third. Before I know it, the entirety of District Twelve is raising their hands in tribute. Those three intrepid fingers pressed against lips and held up to the heavens. The way I saluted Eames when I knew he was beyond my reach. And suddenly, a solitary voice from the crowd breaks the silence. “For Coral.” The man says. It’s silent for a moment, but then other voices chime in. “Coral” Several others murmur. I don’t need to look down to know that first voice belongs to Mr. Pritt.

As I leave the stage I feel a hand grab by arm. I turn to find Coral’s father. “Mr. Pritt.” I say hesitantly, recalling the words we had exchanged before the reaping, the time I punched him. He shook his head though, silencing me. “Let me talk boy.” He said a bit gruffly, staring me down. He coughs, as if he’s trying to buy himself more time to think of the right words. “I’ve never been much of a father, that much you can attest to.” He begins, scratching the back of his neck. “I know I may have done some wrongs by her, but I never stopped loving that silly girl.” He continued, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. “She was my baby girl.” He adds trying in vain to swallow his tears. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter now. I just-.” He pauses as he rifling through in his coat. “I just thought you should have this.” He finishes, retrieving a crumpled envelope from his coat and offering it to me. I glance at it warily and notice my name scrawled on the back in Coral’s handwriting. I look up at him curious, but he only responds by shaking his head yet again. “I don’t know what it is.” He says handing it to me. “I only know she’d want you to have it.” He turns away as quickly as he came and I’m left staring down at the evelope. I trace my thumb over my name written in her hand. Coral had always said she was jealous of my handwriting, teased that I had always been better at girly things like that. The thought makes me laugh. She had been right I suppose. I stare down at it again, knowing this will be the last time I hear from my best friend. With a deep breath, I slide my thumb under the seal, slowly tearing the paper. And right then, in the middle of the crowd, I read.

My Dearest Jeb,

I’ve never been much good at this kind of thing. I mean, you’ve known be long enough to know that. But, I need to tell you this so I’m going to try my best. Jeb, we’ve known each other almost our entire lives. I can still remember the moment we first met like it was yesterday. We were children then, covered in dirt, blissfully ignorant. We had no idea what the world would do to us, what fate had in store. We didn’t have a care in the world, we were just happy to be together. I know we’re older now, but I still feel that way. I’m just happy to be by your side Jeb. But you and I both know that can’t last. Father’s set the date for Mr. Conwell and I to be married. I know that once that happens, he’ll do everything in his power to keep me from you. I’ll have to go through with it. I’m not going to pretend it can happen any other way; I’m past that now. But I can’t do it without letting you know. I’m not sure if there’s a way to put it gently. Jeb ever since we were children, I’ve always loved you. And even after I’m married to Conwell, I always will. Remember when we were thirteen? Castor had been teasing you because he had gotten his first kiss and you hadn’t. So what did you do? You grabbed me and kissed me right in front of him. I couldn’t look you in the eye for a solid week. Even now, it’s hard to think about it without feeling flush. Even now, as I’m writing this, I know you’ll never read it. I think it would hurt you more to know, so for now I guess I’m just writing this for myself. And maybe in some small way, it will make me better. I love you Jeb and I’ll never forget you. Not ever. Just know that.

Love, Always

Coral

A tear falls onto the page, making the ink smudge a bit. I wipe my face quickly, not wanting anyone to see me like this. A weak laugh escapes my lips as everything suddenly makes sense. There was no denying it, Coral had certainly always had a crush on me. I had ignored it for so long, not wanting to admit I could never return her feelings. Even back in District Twelve, I always knew I could never love Coral, not the way she loved me. I close my eyes and she’s waiting there. Images of her fill my head. I see her blushing when I kissed her for that first time, I see her sitting near the river smiling, I see her in the yellow light of the gazebo her hair floating gracefully behind her and I twirl her under my arm. The more I think about Coral and Victory, the more come I realize the irony of it all. Here were two girls who were ready to let me in, and instead I chose the boy who was in love with someone else. In a way I feel selfish. Even if Eames could never love me back, at least I got to experience love albeit one sided. I close my eyes again as the tears fall. Silently wishing I could have loved Coral the way she loved me.

Time seems to pass by faster than it should and suddenly I find myself back in the justice building. Hadrian is pacing back and forth, going on about how I didn’t stick to my speech and they’re going to have to edit it before they air it. I’m not listening though. I never do when he talks. He’s in the middle of his rant when the Mayor walks in. He whispers something in Hadrian’s ear and suddenly it’s like he can’t spend one more moment in this room. “Well,” He says, straightening his coat. “I’d better be going then.” He follows the Mayor out in a hurry but stops a moment at the door. “Oh.” He says with a huff. “I almost forgot.” He pulls something out of his coat pocket and tosses it to Asella nonchalantly. “Deal with this, will you?” He says. And with that he hurries out.

The object glimmers in the light as Asella clumsily catches it. “What’s that?” I ask, looking up curiously. She smiles warmly, walking over. “It’s for you.” She says handing it to me. I look at her curiously as she talks. “I thought- well I thought you might like something of his.” She says in a whisper, glancing at Caspian to be sure he’s distracted. As she extends her hand to me I can feel my heart sink. It’s his flask, Eames flask; the one we shared in the elevator. “I managed to get it from his mentor.” She says with a small smile. “I’m sorry it’s something so trivial, but I just thought you-“ Before she knows what hit her, my arms are folded around her in a hug. “Thank you.” I whisper, taking the flask from her carefully, as if it's the most precious thing on earth.

I stare down at it, stroking my thumb along the cool metal. I think about when we shared it in the elevator, and the moment on the couch when for a second he was mine. I close my eyes and think of his lips, wonder what might of happened if Coral hadn’t burst in, not that it matters now. In little over a week, I’ve managed to let three of the only people I’ve ever truly cared about slip through my fingers. Coral, Victory, Eames. I’m starting to get sad, so I stop thinking. I shake the flask, noticing it’s not quite empty. With a flick of my thumb I open it. I wave the opening near my nose, taking in the strong scent of the whiskey. Pressing it to my lips, I think of him for a moment more before tipping the flask back. I down the burning liquid in a second, feeling comfort in the way it feels going down my throat. And for just a moment, I can forget him and Coral and Victory and the sadness. Suddenly I feel Caspian’s arm around me again. “Ready to go see your new home?” He asks with a grin. I notice the Mayor is back with Asella by his side. I nod silently, slipping the flask into my jacket. And without another thought, I follow them to the Victor’s Village in hopes that something there can help me move on from this place. Who knows? Maybe Caspian can help me through this. Maybe I can be myself again. And if not, I’ve always got the flask.

#Victory Tour #3000 words of feels

Lol so I made this lovely graphic because I'm bored and have no life. Final victor posts are coming soon my lovies ;)

#I'm sorry #I couldn't stop myself

District 11 || Lost Smiles

District 11 is much the same. I try not to look at wailing mothers, angry fathers as I go through my routine. I think of the first time I met Kaya at the training center. We smiled and laughed, splashed each other as we pretended to be ignorant of our fate. That smiling girl is gone now. All I can see when I close my eyes is way she looked as I stood by and watched her die. Her screams still ring in my ears when I try to sleep. She haunts me along with the others. I see her standing there begging me to do something. Instead I stand and watch Zach kill her. I do nothing. I’m just as guilty as him. I mentally check her name off on the list of lives I have ruined; of people who will never smile again. My name is on the top of that list.

District 10 || A Fate Worse than Death

I’m starting to feel like a wind up toy. District after district I stand on the stage, go though my routine like a robot; reading cards, feigning apologies, looking into the eyes of people who’s children I murdered. Ten and Eleven are particularly hard. I find it difficult to meet anyone’s gaze as I stand up on that stage. I can feel the eyes of Lucy’s family boring holes into me. Zach’s uncle gives me a cold glare as I say words that mean nothing. These aren’t words to console loved ones; they’re words to make me feel better about standing by and doing nothing while their children died; words that are supposed to rationalize me torturing Zach; killing him; destroying the love between him and Lucy. I say what I have to and walk of the stage. I’m starting to realize that this is more of a punishment than an honor; being forced to face these people whose lives I’ve destroyed.

District 7 || Forever

I sit in the train, watching the trees pass me by. Everything has been a blur since District 5, but today is different. Today we’re headed for District 7. My chest feels tight just thinking about it. Eames the boy I loved. Olive the girl I killed. I will have to face both of their families today. It’s all I can do not to burst into tears at the very thought. Hadrian, Asella, and Caspian sit beside me exchanging pleasantries, laughing, talking. I don’t see how they can smile; not in this place.

As I step of the train, I try to control my shaking. Caspian puts his hand on my shoulder in an attempt to comfort me, but I pull away. Nothing anyone can do will make today any easier. I stand there for a moment, taking in the smell of the forest, the cool breeze. I can feel Eames in this place. I close my eyes and picture him. It’s the only thing that can give me the strength I need to step up on that stage. As soon as I begin my ascent up the steps I can feel my heart start to pound. Somehow this feels like the hardest thing I’ll ever have to do. The microphone makes a loud screeching noise as I stare out at the crowd. I have to say something. “Um.” My voice echoes. I can see Hadrian in the back of the crowd, egging me to go on. But the words just aren’t coming. I close my eyes. Eames is there again, giving me an encouraging smile. I take a deep breath.

“When I first came to the games, all I wanted was to just go home. I mean, I guess that’s all anyone wants when they’re reaped. But then something changed. I met Eames Sawyer.” I glance down at his family now; his brothers who look so much like him I have to glance away. I take another breath. “From the moment I met him, I knew that things would never be the same. Eames saved me. He saved me in ways he will never even know. And I couldn’t do anything to protect him.” I can feel the tears begin rolling down my cheeks now. “I’m sorry.” I manage. I can hear the sobs from his mother now, but I can’t look her in the eyes. I pause for a moment, searching for the right words and suddenly I find them. They’re the same words that have been floating around in my head since the day I met that boy; the ones I’ve never been brave enough to say aloud. “I loved Eames Sawyer.” The words nearly break my heart as they leave my lips. I try my best to avoid Caspian’s gaze as I continue. “I love Eames Sawyer.” I amend, clenching my fists and standing my ground. “I will always love Eames Sawyer.” As the words linger in the air, I can only hope that wherever he is, he can hear me. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for him.”

Taking another breath, I turn my attention to Olive’s family. “Olive.” Suddenly my throat seems to dry up and the word feels rough coming out of my mouth. I glance over at her family, her little sister who glares back at me with hate in her eyes. It’s the hate of a child; one who doesn’t know anything other that the fact that I was the one who killed her sister. But it still hurts me all the same. “If there’s one thing I regret the most about what happened in the area, it’s Olive.” I say, taking a pause to swallow. “She didn’t-“ My voice catches as the tears begin to fall again. “She didn’t deserve to die the way she did.” I glance over at her family. “She didn’t deserve to die at all. She had a kind heart; a strong heart.” I look up in an attempt to blink away the tears. “I’m sorry.” Is all I can say before I hurry off the stage, leaving a trail of tears in my wake.

As soon as I step off the stage I go to Asella. I ask her if there’s anyway I can have some time alone in the District, just to clear my head. Considering the circumstances, she manages to pull some strings and I couldn’t be more grateful. I just need time to mourn. Trying to hold myself together, I wander through the district, through the trees. I imagine Eames walking alongside me, guiding me through these woods I’m sure he knew so well. I’m still fighting to hold back the tears when I come across a rather peculiar looking pine tree. It seems to be covered in carvings. I wipe my eyes as I examine its scars. I brush my fingers over the ragged surface and that’s when I see it; Eames + Olive, carved into the tree. Like their love it’s permanent, unwavering. It brings me to tears. I collapse at the base of the tree and sob into my hands. It’s the uncontrollable kind of sobbing; the kind that hurts every inch of your being. I grasp the tree, trying to hold myself up and that’s when I notice for the first time that it’s a pine tree. Suddenly, my crying turns into laughter. It’s stupid really, but I can’t stop because it’s funny. It would be a pine tree. I wrap my fingers around the necklace Kerra gave me, the one with the leaves of my own pine tree incased in it, the one from 12. I smile, because even now in some way Eames and I are still connected.

“Did I ever tell you why pine trees were always my favorite?” I say aloud as if he can hear me. “The seeds of the pine tree are practically useless. They’re tough, stubborn even.” I laugh. “Sound familiar? Anyway, in order for the seeds to open, they need to be exposed to fire. Sometimes a forest fire is the only way for more pine trees to grow.” I lean back against the tree and sigh. “I know you probably already know that being from Seven and all, but I just always thought it was beautiful; something so lovely being born out of all that destruction. I want to be like that.” I say, gripping my necklace again. “I will try to be like that.” I tug on my necklace, ripping it off its chain and I stare at it for a moment before glancing at the ground. For the first time I notice a patch in the dirt that looks as if it has been dug up recently. Curious, I carefully turn up the dirt. What I find is a simple envelope. Eames name is written on the front in Olive’s handwriting. I stare at it for a moment before setting it back into the ground. Placing the necklace on top of it, I bury them both. When I’m finished, I stand up turning to the tree once more. I place my hand on the scarred bark, tracing my fingers over their names. “I hope your forever is perfect.” I say with a sad smile. “Just don’t forget about me, oaky?” I press my lips to the bark and hold them there for a moment before turning away to leave. I’ll try my best to be like that.

victorywoodpicker replied to your post: District 5 || A Change of Heart

Omg my feels are broken

I'm glad you liked it <33 Took me long enough! Lol I hope it was worth it! :)

#victorywoodpicker

District 5 || A Change of Heart

Districts 3 and 4 go by in a blur and suddenly I find myself in District 5, Victory’s District. As soon I step off the train, my chest feels tight. I can’t be here. I walk into the justice building only to find that they’re running late. They put me in a small room and tell me to wait. I sit down in a comfy looking chair and wonder if this is the room where Victory said her goodbyes. Victory. I hadn’t thought about her since the recap of the games with Caesar. In fact, I hadn’t thought about anyone. I find it easier to just not think. I’m able to cope with the pain if I ignore the fact that it’s there.

I’m staring at the ceiling, trying to distract myself when all of the sudden I hear the door creak open. My head snaps down immediately, but I’m not prepared for what I find; for who I find. I watch as a tall brown-haired boy slips through the doorway. He closes it behind him cautiously. Clearly he is not supposed to be here. “You.” He says though labored breaths. He brings his green eyes up to meet my brown ones. I know those eyes. It takes me a moment to place them, but then it hits me. “Fabrice.” I say, standing up. Victory captured him perfectly in her drawings, down to every last detail. She always had been good at that.

For a moment we just stare at each other, taking one another in. Then finally, Fabrice breaks the silence. “You shouldn’t be here you know.” He says in whisper that is barley audible. “It should be her.” He looks up at me with tear-filled eyes. “She was supposed to come back. She was supposed to win.” It’s clear his having trouble composing himself now. The tears fall steadily, staining the carpet with small droplets of water. “How is it fair that you get to go home; that you get to be happy?” He steps closer to me now, angry. “While I have to sit and wait for a girl who’s never coming back.” He looks up at me, challenging me to respond.

I stare at him as he goes on his rant, letting him have his say because he deserves it. Closing my eyes for a moment, I decide it’s time I defend myself. “Never mistake what I have for happiness.” I say, in a cold voice that sends a shiver down the boy’s spine. “I’m surviving, not living out some happy ending. There’s a difference.” I look up at him with stone cold eyes. “Is that why you came here?” I ask, stepping forward. “To let me know just how much you hate me.” He bites his lip. “No.” He replies. For the first time since he’s entered the room I notice a piece of paper in his hand. He clutches it tightly for a moment before looking back up at me. “I found this in her sketchbook. They sent it home with her things.” He adds looking away. “I just thought you should have it.” He holds out his hand and hesitantly I take the paper from him. It’s a drawing; of me. I’m sitting against my favorite pine tree, the one back in 12. I recall telling her that during one of our late night talks; how much I loved that place. Even though she had never been there, every detail is perfect, from the shading of the bark to the knots in the wood. The tightness in my chest returns and suddenly I’m finding it hard to breath. The boy in this picture isn’t a bloodthirsty killer; he’s not the damaged heartbroken boy from District 12 either. This was a boy full of love, kindness, and just a little bit of sadness. This was the boy who fought for his best friend, his family, his lover; the boy who made those around him smile; who would do anything for a friend. This was Victory’s Jeb. As I hold the paper up to the light I notice something, writing coming through from the back. I turn it over to find a handwritten note. Sitting down in the chair, I read.

My Dear Jeb,

If you’re reading this, it’s because I’m dead. This is the fourth letter I’ve written today. One for my mom, Link, and Fabrice; everyone in my life who I thought needed some closure. Even as I’m writing this, I hope you never have to open it. I hope my death was not painful and I made as long as I could. I promised you I would fight until my last breath. And you know why. You know for whom. And thanks you for making me realize that I loved him. I don’t even know why I’m writing to you. But I’m scared right now and every time I was scared or sad talking to you helped me focus and be stronger. So I’m sorry if everything seems confusing, but it feels right to write you something. Part of me wishes you never have to read these words which will be my last to you. Because I want to live, go back to my district marry Fabrice and have kids with him. But part of me wants you to read it because it will mean that you have made it. A world without you, Jeb is an incomplete world. And I know you will win if I don’t, you’re the strongest among us. I don’t know how you got an 11, but I’m proud of your score. Your district isn’t loved over Panem. Time that you show how awesome District 12 can be. I’ve never been there, but if it’s where you came from, I’m sure it’s a wonderful place.

I don’t know if you realize how much you’ve meant to me this past week. From a stranger who creeped me out a little after the parade to the best friend I could have ever wished for, you helped me more than you know. Not only to have a less sucky week of learning how to fight in the arena. I know you think I was there for you when things with Coral blew up, but you were there for me more than you think. Without you I would never have realized how much I love Fabrice and how stupid I was to go away from him. Without you I would never have had the conversation with Link that made me realize I could never forgive him for what he did to River, but that I don’t hate him anymore. Without you I would never had the courage to talk and make peace with my mom. Without you I would probably have stayed the same old silly girl, blinded by a vendetta too big for her that she lost herself the moment she left her district.

When I volunteered, I never saw you coming. And I will never be the same.

You know how I feel about Eames, but I know you love him. And if you didn’t like Fabrice I know you would have probably shut your mouth and let me enjoy his presence and be in love. I hope he knows how much you love him. I’m happy that, by the end of the week, you’ve finally accepted who you are. Even if it’s Eames that made you realize it, it’s okay, because you can be free from this thing that was holding you inside. And don’t ever, for one second think that you can be fixed, because you were never broken. I know it kills you that he chose Olive. And we both understand why; she’s a sweetheart and really pretty. But never think that he didn’t choose you because you were not good for him. You are ten times better than Olive, he just couldn’t feel that way about you. I hope that in the arena, Eames will not get into your skin so bad that you will lose yourself. My biggest fear it that he played with your feelings to kill you, or make you do things that you don’t want. I know if you read those words it will be too late to change anything, but I hope with all my heart that you will not focus on him during the game, but on you. You have the tendency to forget yourself to make the people around you happy, but now it’s your turn to be happy; to think of yourself; of winning. You have a life outside the games, a family that loves you, don’t forget that either. But if you die, I want you to die for you. Not for him or for Olive. Because before them you were something Jeb. And something great. Don’t forget that.

Love is a ruthless game unless we play it good and right. And it’s a hard price to pay. So please try to find someone. I never said forget him. Your first love is always hard to forget. But try to be with someone who makes you feel loved, who makes you feel special, who makes you feel like you’re worth something big and bright. Find someone who wants you. Don’t lose yourself in meaningless sex to fill and empty a hole in your heart like I did. Because it was the worst decision of my life. Jeb you are a great man. And you deserve to be loved. Never think any differently.

Ok let’s face it, we both know we were totally stupid to sleep together. Our friendship became stronger the day you admitted you were gay and the same night we did it. Are we stupid or what? Hah. But you know what? I don’t regret anything. Yes, it was wrong. But in the end it’s what kept me sane, it was a feeling I know I will hold onto in the arena if loneliness strikes me; just closing my eyes right now and feeling your arms around me already makes me feel alright. Because even if I fucked up big time this week, you never stopped loving me, you were always there for me. You were a true friend. And yes, to escape our pain we slept together, three awesome times, but that’s not what I will think the most when I think of you. I will think of our nights playing chess, our laughter in the dark at midnight, your hand squeezing mine when I talked about Fabrice, my finger on your chin when you talked about Eames. You were my painkiller. With you everything was bearable, even loosing River and seeing Link in training. You were there, and it’s all that matters at the end of the day, at the end of my life. My mom knows everything about us. I told her that we weren’t lovers, which I lied about to be sure you had somewhere to sleep every night since you didn’t want to go into your suite. She know I slept with you because I was trying to forget Fabrice like you were trying to forget Eames. And she knows that even if we did that, it only made whatever kind of love we had grow stronger. She’s okay with it. Cause she told me she has never seen me smile that much without Fabrice around, that you were something good for me. Yes, this is what I will remember. Not the sex (Which again, I must mention was great) but everything else around us.

But know one thing; if I win, I will never forget you. You were not my first love. Fabrice was. But it feels like it sometimes. I think maybe if I hadn’t been born a girl, we could have been something more than friends. Wait no, you were something more than a friend. You were my almost lover. We were almost lovers. Yes, I think it’s the best description we could have for what we had.

I love you, to the moon and back.

Be safe, be strong I know you can. I believe in you.

Victory.

For the first time since the games, I feel a tear roll down my cheek. Another one follows and suddenly I can’t control myself. I lean over the letter, tears spilling out, staining it. Even in death, Victory is the one to bring me back. She always had the ability to save me when no one else could. The sound of the doorknob turning breaks me out of my trance. I look up just in time to see Fabrice about to step out the door. “Wait.” I croak, standing up. “Wait.” He turns back, looking rather unconvinced, but something is my eyes must change his mind because after staring at me for a moment he slowly closes the door behind him.

“I’m sorry.” I hear myself say. “For everything.” I pause for a moment, but then the words start pouring out and I can’t stop them. “If it were up to me she would be the one standing here.” I begin, clenching my fists. “I never wanted any of this. I wanted her to have her chance at happiness. I wanted her to be with you.” He’s looking at me now, trying to gauge my sincerity. “I’ll never forgive myself for letting her die, but that doesn’t change what happened. In the end, she’s the one who moved on and we’re both stuck here. That’s just something we’re going to have to live with.” I turn my gaze to the floor, unable to look at him any longer. “Go ahead and hate me. Just know that I didn’t want this.”

We stand in silence for a moment before he speaks up again. “Did you love her?” The words cut through the silence. His voice is laced with hurt and betrayal. I know that voice; it’s the one I used when I asked Olive the same question. I pause for a moment before responding. “Yes.” I say. “In my own way, but it wasn’t the same kind of love the two of you shared.” I walk up to him, placing my hand on his shoulder. “She may have had a hard time showing it, but just know one thing; Her heart always belonged to you. Even if she didn’t realize it until it was too late.”

He’s trying to frown, but a smile crosses his lips. “Now I know what she saw in you.” He says, wiping the tears from his eyes. “You’re one of those people who make it really hard to be mad at them, huh?” I smile, and it’s not the fake stage smile put on for the capitol, it’s a genuine one. “I guess I do.” I say with a laugh. He looks up at me again. “I’m sorry for attacking you like that.” He says, but I shake my head brushing it off. “It’s fine.” I say. “It’s not.” He retorts. “I wanted to be mad at you but I should be thanking you really.” I glance at him curiously. “You fought for her.” He says, swallowing back the tears. “You were willing to give up your life for her.” He steps closer to me, placing his hand on my shoulder. “You obviously meant a lot to Victory and I guess she must have meant a lot to you too. If she couldn’t win, I’m glad you did.” He gives me a weak smile. “Thank you for trying to save her.” He whispers. “I guess, in a way you kind of saved me too.” He pulls back and looks into my eyes. “When Victory left for the games-“ He breaks off, clearly going back to that moment. “I didn’t know what I was to her.” He gives a sad smile. “But then she met you, and something changed. If it wasn’t for you, I’m not sure she would have ever realized she loved me.” I can see the tears beginning to well up again. I try to say something, but he just shakes his head. “Thank you.” He repeats. And with that, he slips back out of the room as quietly as he came.

By the time they finally call me up to the stage, I’m a wreck. It’s all I can do to hold myself together. This was all much easier when I didn’t care. This time when I stand on that stage to give my speech, it’s not just another routine. I say my bit about Atlas, but when it comes time for Victory, I set down the notecards Hadrian handed me and instead I just start talking. “When I first came into the games I was broken, I was alone. Even though I wasn’t really, on the inside it always felt that way. But then I met Victory.” I pause for a moment, thinking of her. “She was the first person who really saw me. Victory was a brave fighter; a strong person; stronger then she even knew. In the end, I wanted her to be the one standing here, but I can’t change what happened. Instead I’m going to try my best not to waste the last gift she gave me, my life. That’s the only way left to honor her now.” I glance down at the box where he family sits and I give her mother an apologetic smile. It’s all I can do to not burst into tears again.

As I turn to leave the stage, I catch Fabrice out of the corner of my eye. I watch him as he curls his hand into a fist and places it over his heart. At first I’m confused, but then Victory’s mother follows suit, then her father, and soon practically the entirety of District 5 seems to be saluting me. I close my eyes and think of District 12; of our salute. Back home, when someone raises their fingers, it’s a gesture of sadness, of mourning. But this isn’t like that. Instead I feel like they’re telling me ‘be strong, don’t lose heart’. And in that moment, I vow to myself that I’ll try.

#wofm #watchoutformutts #Jeb Stone

Victory Tour || The Beginning

Everything since the games has been a blur. It’s a jumble of blinding lights and microphones; of autographs, admirers and meaningless congratulations. But it’s almost over. There’s only one more thing standing in the way of me and getting back to life as usual, whatever that means now. The Victory Tour. As we head out for District 1, I realize how exhausting it has been to keep up this Façade. I’ve had to convince Panem that I am back to normal, happy even. Now they expect me to look into the faces of people whose loved one’s I have killed. I have to face them as they look back at me with hatred in their hearts and I have to pretend that I care. I try to remember what caring feels like. All I find is the emptiness.

It doesn’t take long to get to District 1 and suddenly I find myself met with another crowd. This one is different from the crowds in the Capitol though. This not a bunch of cheering fans, this is a group of people who want me dead. I stand on the stage, giving an empty speech that means less to me than the people listening. They aren’t fooled by the front I’ve put on. They see me for what I really am. I try not to look at Alelya’s family as I walk of the stage, but despite my efforts my eyes meet with her father’s. Even as I look into his tear filled eyes, I still don’t regret what I did. In fact I feel I did Panem a service by ending that girl’s life.

Distict 2 is much the same; more meaningless words and wailing parents. As I look at Aaron and Alivia’s parents I can’t help but think of Aaron’s dying words. “We’re the same.” I may have entered the games a kindhearted, gentle boy from 12; one who dreamed of love and happiness, but that’s not who I was anymore. The boy who stands on the stage now is not a boy at all, he’s a monster, worse than the most bloodthirsty career. “We’re the same.” Those words will never leave me.

eriarnis

jebstonedistrict12

The two Victors.

oliveackerley replied to your post: oliveackerley replied to your post: A Final...

All the feels right? Lol I’m sure they will be worth every second of waiting! I’m so glad you won!

Although I love every single one of you, I have to admit I'm pretty glad I won too <3 I hope they meet your expectations. Victory Tour should be posted tomorrow <3

#oliveackerley

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