The Angel of Death || Peeta Mellark x Reader

The Reaping

Screams can be heard from the streets of District 12. The high pitch reveals Primrose Everdeen to be the cause of the commotion at seven in the morning.

I had never been close with either Katniss or Primrose, even though both of our fathers were killed in the same mineshaft accident. The only difference in our stories was that that explosion left me alone. 

When I was a baby, my mother died of starvation just so my brother and I could have a little bit more food. When I was thirteen, that same brother died next to my father down, buried deep beneath the earth. 

I remember that day more vividly than anything else in my life. It was like any other morning, I was rudely awoken by my older brother's hand ruffling through my hair, messing up what was already matted from sleep. His eyes flashed a spark of mischeviousness rare to find this early, but James was always like that. Despite all the hardship he had faced in his sixteen years of life, his slightly crooked smile and crinkled eyes were always displayed on his face.

My father, although a large man who intimidated all of those around him, was standing in the kitchen, laughing as I bounded into the room and snatched the measly portion of oatmeal out of his outstretched arm. Even though he lost the love of his life, his wife and my mother, he still held a positive outlook towards life.

He held my brother and myself close to his heart every day, and prayed over us and our mother every night.

But that day, I wasn't aware that when I stepped out of the house and turned to wave goodbye to my father and my brother, it would be the last time I saw either of their faces. 

Around halfway through the school day, I was sitting in history class, my desk squeezed between Katniss Everdeen's and Peeta Mellark's, when an older woman wearing all black stepped into the room and called both Katniss and I into the hallway.

There, we were informed that both of our fathers and my brother had been killed in a mining accident, vaporized to dust miles below the surface I was currently standing on. I remember turning to the young, dark haired girl beside me, and my eyes meeting her gray ones before swelling up with tears and my vision cutting to darkness.

Now, I was all alone, nobody cared for me. Although technically speaking I was in the legal custody of my aunt, she was never around. I live by myself on the streets of District 12, I only survive by preying on the pity of the slightly richer area of town. They're not wealthy by the Capitol's standards, but they've got more money than the rest of us .

I am a singer, staying alive by retelling the songs my mother and father sang to me as a child. There's not much entertainment in our barren streets, so people take what they can get. If I'm lucky, I can buy a couple loaves of bread each week from the Mellark's bakery. I'm the same age as the couple's son, Peeta, and we get along, but we were never close enough to be considered friends. 

But now that I've been awoken by the screams of terrified children preparing for their first reaping, I pry myself away from the tree I had been previously slumped against while asleep. I look down at my outfit that I would be forced to wear to the ceremony. Many people try to look as decent as they can, but I have no other options. The simple jeans, flowy emerald green top, and generic white shoes would have to work, even if they did have traces of dirt all over them.

After a few hours of sulking around town, trying to find my aunt Delilah to no avail, I decided to make my way to the town square. As I looked around me, the air seemed to have gotten heavier, the scenery grew impossibly duller overnight, and the people around me got all the color drained from their faces. The little girls and boys surrounding me looked like they were marching towards a death sentence, and for a couple of them, that statement was true.

I waited in the line, getting beaten down by the glaring sun, until it was finally my turn. The lady working the registry harshly yanked my hand from my side, and pricked my finger more aggressively than the past years. God, these people act like they're the victims when they're the ones sending two innocent children to their deaths. 

I found myself walking numbly towards the group of girls my age, the sixteen year olds. I scanned the lifeless faces for one I could possibly recognize. My eyes finally met with none other than Katniss Everdeen. Her olive-colored skin looked even paler under today's circumstances, and her grey eyes bored into mine. I awkwardly walked towards her, and stopped by her side. 

"I heard Prim this morning, is she alright?", I said, even though I already knew the answer. Prim was the type of girl to be mortified, certain it's her name that will be chosen even though it's only in the bowl one time. 

"Yeah, you know her. She won't trust me when I say that it won't be her. If anything, it'll be my name being read today", she replies. Her tone is cold, but I know it's not directed towards me. It's towards the Capitol, towards the people who could do such unspeakable things to children, to girls as sweet as Primrose. 

I don't say anything besides that, because once I glance over at Katniss, her attention has already shifted to something else, someone else. Gale Hawthorne. I resume my awkward standing, looking down at my tattered shoes. The soles are falling apart and the laces are so disgustingly brown, covered in dirt and mud from the last three years.

As usual, I drown out the noise coming from Effie Trinket's ridiculously made-up mouth, the infuriating propaganda that "justifies" the murder of 23 children each year. Instead, I focus on our only living victor, Haymitch Abernathy, and for a moment, I think I see his eyes meet mine. 

My eyes soon flicker to Effie's hands, reaching for the female names in the clear, glass dome. I just pray that it isn't another young girl, our last tribute was a thirteen year old who I knew from grade school. 

As I reminisce on the prior year, suddenly I feel everybody's eyes on me. I stare blankly back at them, confused as to why all their attention is on me. I feel a nudge at my left arm, and I turn my head to be face-to-face with the cold gray eyes of Katniss Everdeen. I can see the slightest amount of sadness shown in them now, the warmth that was once solely reserved for her sister. 

She's mumbling something to me, but I can't hear any of it. Finally she gives up on trying to talk to me, and just pushes me forwards. Then it all hits me suddenly:

Effie Trinket called my name.

I am going to the 74th annual Hunger Games.

My brain tells my feet to start moving towards the stage, but nothing cooperates anymore. I feel my body be lifted from the ground by a force much stronger than me, peacekeepers. Then it's as if something switched inside my body, I find myself writhing out of their grip, and making my way towards Effie's outstretched, gloved hand.

I stand on the stage, looking down at everyone from my district. They all seem so distant, so far away from me. But then one boy moves from the crowd. I guess Effie must have called his name, but I couldn't hear it over the deafening sound of my own heartbeat. I stare at his face, and I recognize the blond-haired boy. Peeta Mellark. I watch as a single tear slips down his pained face, helpless as I realize there's nothing I can do. When he finally reaches the spot next to me, Effie gestures for us to shake hands. I reach out for his like it's my lifeline, and I don't let go. He doesn't either, so we stand together, grasping each other for dear life.

I take one final look at my surroundings. I take one final look at Katniss Everdeen, and I see the unmistakable pity in her eyes, but I'm used to it. My eyes flit over to Primrose, and I almost crack a smile. But I don't see pity in her eyes, I see grief. I know she recognizes me, and I know how sorry she feels. 

And suddenly, I'm inside the cool, air-conditioned building as I await the train to pick me up and take me to my death. 

I finally let go of his hand. 

edited 11/6/2023

A/N

HI! I've seen very few fanfics written for Peeta, and during this Hunger Games resurrection, I decided to write my own. LMK what you think! I've got the whole book planned out, and I hope you like Taylor Swift. I'll be using the idea of Y/N being a singer a lot in the book! also i just read back over ever chapter i've published so far, and they definitely get better as you go on. so just keep reading!! yeah, this chapter is really short in comparison to the later ones. sorry about that.