#everdeen

[graciepasty]

Burdock Everdeen. Sunrise on the Reaping (2025).

[polar-artist]

dont think i posted this, but i have been getting really into the hunger games recently. so. have some katniss art… yay

[imamentalcrisis]

just thinking about how katniss always compares prim and rue- petite stature and innocence. but then I think about katniss at 12.

katniss at 12 was small. after months and months of being malnourished, she was petite. fiercely protective of prim, just as rue was with all of her younger siblings. with a penchant for music and a voice that makes the mockingjays stop singing, she was more similar to rue than prim ever was. they're fighters, scrappy, they know how to survive.

I see katniss and rue in the hunger games, and I see katniss with a younger version of herself.

[toniluciax]

Asterid + Burdock

[spideyns]

haymitch abernathy headers

[everlarkthgfp]

The Quiet After Part II

The meadow becomes my place.

It isn’t the same meadow I feared as a girl, where names were pulled from bowls and lives were snuffed out like candles. It feels different now, though I don’t know if that’s because it has changed—or because I have. The fireflies help. Their light is fragile, temporary, but they keep returning year after year, no matter what happened here.

Sometimes, I sit with Peeta and trace the outlines of his drawings. He captures things I can’t say out loud: Prim’s smile, Rue’s song, Finnick’s grin. I envy him. His hands can shape memory into something that doesn’t fade. Mine can only release arrows into the sky.

I think about what we’re supposed to do now. The war is over, the Games are gone, but no one tells you how to live after. People rebuild. They trade, they laugh, they plant gardens. But what do you do when you’re no longer fighting to survive?

One morning, I see children chasing each other in the square. Their parents watch with smiles that don’t carry the same fear my mother’s once did. For a moment, I wonder what it would be like to have children of my own. The thought used to terrify me. It still does. But less than before.

I hear Gale’s name whispered sometimes. He visited not long ago, his face leaner, his eyes sharper. He didn’t stay. We didn’t ask him to. Our words were short, awkward, circling around all the things we couldn’t touch. He carries his own ghosts, and I carry mine. That’s enough.

Peeta plants a patch of primroses outside our house. He doesn’t tell me, but I know why. At first, it hurts to look at them, too sharp a reminder of what I lost. But slowly, I start to see them differently. Not as a symbol of death, but as proof of something delicate surviving anyway.

Sometimes I dream of fire. Sometimes I dream of Rue, her song filling the air. Sometimes I dream of nothing at all, and that’s the best gift of all.

I don’t know what tomorrow looks like. But standing in the meadow, with Peeta beside me and the fireflies refusing to burn out, I finally let myself imagine it.

[strwbrrytears]

My lovely huntress <3

[shifa-kazi]

Do you think katniss instinctively trusted Haymitch despite his bad behaviour because somewhere in her subconscious is a memory of being held by her father as he introduces her to a very grumpy Haymitch? She remembers that particular stench of alcohol mixed with the fragrance of the meadow. The same meadow where she's had some of the best times of her life with her dad and this disheveled person reminds her of those memories somehow. The man is weird, her tenacious little brain registers, but she glimpses the tiniest smile on the edge of his lips and smiles back. That's when Burdock sees what Katniss can't - the pain in Haymitch's eyes as she reminds him of another little girl who trotted about him. He eventually gives up on trying to get Haymitch back but what he doesn't really know is that he already did succeed. Haymitch had lost all hope and all reasons to survive but this mini incarnation of his sweetheart with eyes that hold the same joy as his best friend is the reason he gets involved with the resistance again. Even the mumbled songs of this tiny human remind him of Lenore, shake him to the core, so he remembers that he has a promise to keep. Finds a way to keep it.

And Katniss, years down the road, unaware she returned the spark back to the flint striker trusts this man shaped chaos for a reason she can't quite grasp. He was never named her godfather but proceeded to play the role anyways. Was always destined to be there.