The girl on fire.

Even more than I would’ve if he’d died.

Including himself

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

We are not star-crossed lovers!

AU/Post-Mockingjay -Peeta and Katniss perform District 12’s marriage ritual. "We have our own little ceremony, where they make their first fire, toast a bit of bread, and share it. Maybe it’s old-fashioned, but no one really feels married in District 12 until after the toasting.”

I want you to remember that I said that

Mockingjay (via afirewiel)

He looks well. Thin and covered with burn scars like me, but his eyes have lost that clouded, tortured look. He’s frowning slightly, though, as he takes me in. I make a halfhearted effort to push my hair out of my eyes and realize it’s matted into clumps. I feel defensive.  "What are you doing?" "I went to the woods this morning and dug these up. For her," he says. “I thought we could plant them along the side of the house.” I look at the bushes, the clods of dirt hanging from their roots, and catch my breath as the wordrose registers. I’m about to yell vicious things at Peeta when the full name comes to me. Not plain rose but evening primrose. The flower my sister was named for.

"You did."  

"I know this would have happened anyway."  

AU - If Peeta wasn’t hijacked.  requested by withallthingslove

Twigs + Twine Photography