People always talk about how Jen’s so funny, and she is. She lightens the serious on-set mood in a great way, but they don’t see the fact that when they say ‘action,’ she’s serious about her work and portraying her character the right way. I love that about her—it’s inspiring that she can balance having fun on set while also being serious.
—  Willow Shields about Jennifer Lawrence (x)
Fight a Losing Battle ~An Everlark One-Shot~

Hello everyone! Surprise haha! I don’t exactly know how this idea came to me; perhaps from watching the Mockingjay trailer for the umpteenth time. But I decided that I would write a little story from Hijacked!Peeta’s point of view. This little one-shot is a missing segment from Mockingjay, in which the star squad are staying in tents and preparing to head to the Capitol. I hope y’all enjoy; it was just a little ficlet that grew into something more, and I rolled with it haha! So without further adoooo…

Fight a Losing Battle


"Mutt. Mutt. Mutt. Mutt."

The frightening chanting within my head ends abruptly as I jolt awake, encased in a thin layer of sweat.

I blink hard, slowly bringing myself back to reality. Or at least, as much as I can; the nightmares and horrible visions are still fresh in my mind. They lurk and contort into dark shapes before my eyes, and I clench my fists hard, willing them to go away.

I’m so tired. I’m exhausted with having to deal with these strange hallucinations, not knowing what’s real or not. Not knowing who’s lying to me and who’s telling me the truth. Not knowing if the people surrounding me are actually my friends or my fiends.

I feel like there used to be a time when it all made sense, when everything flowed together in a happy melody. I feel like there was once a time where I woke up, and was aware of everything around me. Not living in this constant state of confusion, aggression, and fear.

I feel like I actually had something worth living for.

But did I really, or is that just some, shiny memory trapped within my tainted brain?

People have been telling me so many things. I’ve been told that I used to paint and bake, both of which I’ve attempted again since my supposed “hijacking;” anyone who deals with me uses that word.

It’s a new term to me, but just like everything else, I don’t question it. I simply try to fit it back into the confusing labyrinth that is the present.

Hobbies and past times haven’t been so bad to adjust to, or hard to believe. The one, true thing that is bothering me the most, is who I love, allegedly.


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