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I never paint katniss with her hair down… this started out as just some warm up stuff and I always get carried away ugh
Still trying to figure out character drawing! maybe soon i’ll feel confident enough to do a whole figure :’)
good old katniss
sunsetsrmydreams asked:
Loveliest compliment ever, my friend! You made my day. 😘
Ghost Of Christmas Past - Part 2
Here it is! The second part of my story that I wrote for the festive season. I apologise for the wait.
You can find Part 1 here
Thank you to the lovely and talented @eala-musings for being my beta.
Rating - M
Trigger warnings - Attempted assault. It’s nothing too graphic but if this is a trigger for you please do not continue.
Thanks guys - please let me know what you think.
The parking lot is quiet and dancing in shadows as Katniss walks briskly to her car. Due to the Christmas Eve panic she had to park her piece of junk on the other side of the lot. Struggling with her bags, she tries not to think about the confrontation with Peeta Mellark - but it’s a losing battle. Her mind is filled with restless energy, wanting to drift off into the past and fixate about how Mellark went from being her friend to her enemy.
It was a gradual process; first he became quiet and withdrawn, often wanting to be alone, until one day it was like someone flipped a switch. At first she tried to be understanding and sympathetic. Took everything he threw at her; every jibe and insult and let them sink into her skin, pretending his words didn’t upset her. The whole town knew he was hurting and had experienced something traumatic.
It was not every day you came home from school to find your mother had killed your father in a violent frenzy. It tips your world upside down and changes your soul. But after trying to reach out to him for so long and being constantly rejected and ridiculed, it all got too much for her fractured heart. Her sympathy had waned and she soon couldn’t help herself. If he had a go at her, she would respond right back with the same vigour.
She remembers the first time she told him off. His eyes were stunned for a second, before he gave her a small nod, followed by a sneer. She heard later that day he’d gotten suspended from school – it was the first time of many for the remainder of their school life. The only thing that seemed to stay the same with this new Peeta Mellark was his instilled passion for wrestling. Every competition and training session you could guarantee he was there. She thought it was probably a good thing; a healthy outlet for him to get out some of his aggression.
Over the years she soon forgot all about the old Peeta Mellark. It was like he never existed. And that’s exactly how she wanted it to be right now in the present.
Sighing in relief, Katniss spots her car a few yards away, sitting alone under a flashing fluorescent light. Adjusting her bags to one arm, she reaches inside her handbag to dig out her keys. One second she’s dreaming of the reprieve she’ll get when she dumps the heavy load of bags into the trunk, and the next second she’s realising there’s a hard and looming presence up against her back. She has a split second to realise it’s a man’s solid chest, before bulky arms wrap around her middle and throw her roughly to the ground. She lands on her back with a cry of pain, the impact snatching the air from her lungs.
Her brain tries to process what is happening as her shopping bags are violently ripped from her arms, and a strong body, dressed in black, climbs on top of her and holds her down. She stares up in alarm at the menacing and unfamiliar face. His eyes are hard like ice and his blond hair is dirty and dishevelled. He looks down upon her with a curl of his lips and she catches a whiff of his putrid breath fanning across her face. It causes her stomach to roll in waves and she has to fight the urge not to gag.
“You’re a pretty one, aren’t you?” The man murmurs, reaching out to stroke the end of her braid.
Fighting through the rush of blood pounding in her ears, her nerves send a spark of adrenaline through her body, lighting up her veins and causing her to reach out and scratch the man’s face. Simultaneously she tries to buck her body up, trying to flip him off, but he doesn’t budge. His eyes grow stormy at her actions and before she knows it he’s gripping her shoulders hard, nails breaking the skin and pushing her further into the concrete.
“Knock it off!” He growls. “Do you know what I could do to you?”
“Please don’t,” she says, her voice breaking.
She can’t hide her fear anymore and there’s no one around to help her. Besides begging she doesn’t know what else to do. She’s trapped beneath this man, and the adrenaline she was once feeling has now dropped in her stomach like a deadweight and has been replaced with dread. Crying out in frustrated defeat, she prepares for whatever fate has in store for her, until she catches a flash of red in her vision and hears an animalistic growl radiating off the concrete walls.
Suddenly the weight of her attacker is gone, allowing her to take deep mouthfuls of desired air. Through her shock she summons enough strength to roll onto her side, ignoring the burning pain in her back and shoulders. She gazes over to the raucous scene in front of her, and what she sees makes her eyes widen in surprise
It’s Santa Claus.
No, it’s Peeta.
And he’s on top of her attacker.
He’s punching him over and over again with such unrestrained fury that it almost scares her. She hears grunts, cries of pain, a crunching noise that sounds like a nose breaking, and then within seconds it’s all over.
Wincing, Katniss slowly brings herself up into a sitting position, her eyes glued to her high school enemy. He’s sporting a bloodied lip and purple blemishes are already forming around his left eye. Sweat glistens across his forehead and his fake white beard and padded belly are now lying in disarray on the ground. Fire burns brightly from his eyes as he takes her in, but as he stumbles towards her, they soften with concern and…trepidation. Silently he takes a seat on the ground next to her. She can hear his ragged breaths as his gaze looks her up and down, assessing her for injuries. Unexpectedly and with surprising tenderness he takes her hand in his.
“I’m here Katniss,” he whispers, his voice filled with sorrow.
She meets his eyes, and what shocks her the most is not his words, or the horror and fear she just went through. But the fact that she doesn’t want to pull her hand away from his.






