Elsewhere. Away from here. He’s respectable enough of course, he has to be if he’s going to be the king’s favorite knight, but Madge has always known that underneath it all he’s fuming. Must be. - A Fortnight - Author: jennycaakes
“That the place where I am is never far
You know, you’re not alone, don’t be alarmed
I’ll find you no matter where you are”
She’s different and he’s different and things are different when she’s around. She’s like sunlight when it’s cloudy and his family actually likes her. She’s not funny at all but that’s what makes her funny. She’s soft and sweet yet at the same time strong minded and not scared to argue, to debate. Madge has her own thoughts, no one else controls her. She’s not perfect. She has her flaws in how she drinks too much or lets people push her at times. She doesn’t always tell the truth. But none of that matters.
— Faded Lines, by Jennycaakes (x)
Disclaimer: Inspired by this fuckin’ speech (BtVS, ‘Afterlife’). I don’t own The Hunger Games (or the words used at the beginning of this, obviously. Slight spoiler warning there if you are into the show and haven’t gotten to season six yet.
“I want you to know I did save you. Not when it counted, of course. But after that. Every night after that. I’d see it all again, do something different. Faster or more clever, you know? Dozens of times, lots of different ways …Every night I save you.”
He doesn’t feel the shards of glass pierce the rough and calloused skin of his hands. He doesn’t notice the tears in his clothing or the fact that a rusty old metal pipe had managed to dig its way into his calf until he looks down and winces at the sight of it. He doesn’t feel anything but determination and the crippling fear that maybe this time, it won’t be enough. He won’t make it. None of them will.
Not once does he let this thought fully cross his mind. Though the terror is certainly there, he forces it down and uses all of his will power to concentrate on getting everyone he can out alive. His family and Katniss’ were his first priority, of course. He nearly loses his balance climbing over the rubble and ruins of District 12 on his way to Mayor Undersee’s home.
He knows the moment he lets himself think he’s too late is the moment that he loses, so he carries on the only way he knows how: stubbornly. Like he’s got nothing left to lose, though that’s far from the truth.
By the time he reaches the Undersee home, it’s all but raining fire. Even in his wildest nightmares, even during the most terrifying of games he’d ever witnessed, he could have never imagined something like this. He thought he’d known terror; thought that being from the Seam and losing his father and losing Katniss to the arena (and Peeta, for that matter, but that was another story) twice, he’d understood what true agony really was.
But he was wrong. Nothing in the world could compare to watching an entire civilization crumble, being forced to watch on helplessly as people you knew burned before your very eyes, their deafening, agonizing cries for help being the last sound you will ever hear them make.
Nothing could have prepared him for this.
(read the rest on the fanfiction.net link above)
AU Shipping Graphics: Gadge in, The Little Mermaid
“Haymitch, I’m going to find that girl. And I’m going to marry her.”
Gale feels completely out of place in the Undersee home-chintz furniture, fresh flowers and an abundance of books are a stark contrast to the sparse living standards he’s accustomed to- but Madge is too preoccupied to address his obvious discomfort.
That, or she doesn’t really care.
He’s never had an affinity for words, both spoken and written. In order to feel productive, Gale needs to be doing something- setting a snare, stringing a bow or digging in a mine. Madge seems to be in her element, though, and as she reads excerpts from Capitol newspapers, Gale eventually finds himself losing interest in her words and instead focusing on the freckle above her left eyebrow that he’d never noticed before.
“With another reaping behind us, beloved victors including Katniss Everdeen and Finnick Odair ensure for a riveting Quell this year.” Madge concludes, looking up at Gale expectantly. “Well? That’s good, isn’t it? Certainly means a lot of sponsorships.”
Distracted, Gale flares his nostrils. “Why does the Capitol think that everyone in Panem is obsessed with Finnick Odair?” he offers brazenly. He watches her closely as she cocks her head to one side, a strand of her blonde hair slipping from behind her ear.
“The eyes, maybe? More likely his chest. There’s a photo here, why don’t you take a look for yourself?”
A guttural sound escapes Gale’s throat, something between a scoff and a retch. “Ah…I don’t think that’s necessary.” he manages to choke out.
Madge’s azure eyes tease him as her lips curl into a smile. “That was a joke, Gale. You should try it sometime.” She retracts her hand, rifling through another stack of papers. “Besides, he isn’t really my type. Oh, I found something here on predictions for the arena.”
Gale feels ashamed when he leaves her house having retained no information whatsoever about the arena, but instead a newfound curiosity for what- or who- Madge Undersee’s type was.