#• | muses — finnick odair.

[kaitlinamberxo]

“I drag myself outta nightmares and there's no relief in waking up. But... it's better not to give in to it. It takes 10 times longer to put yourself back together than it does to fall apart.”

kaitlin's 100 favorite fictional muses — 86/100: Finnick Odair

[entriprises]

assorted thoughts on: how the muses' wrap gifts based on @strangewonderful's muse question of the day

tadashi is very good at wrapping, but he rarely uses wrapping paper. more often than not, a gift from tadashi is wrapped in a paper grocery bag he deconstructed, or paper from sketches he no longer needs. he's an adamant proponent of scratch paper and having a scratch paper bin in his lab so sometimes things come from there. he always manages to make it look nice rather than last minute.

buttercup loves to throw something in a box. if she can put some confetti or pom pom type objects to fill it, all the better, but she's a box girl all the way. no box? gift right into your hand.

romeo has gotten very good at wrapping. he comes from a childhood of building theater sets and making props. he should not be underestimated with a craft. but also, his go to gift for everyone is books which makes his job very easy! he's gotten into more creative means of wrapping too. he does use the weirdest wrapping paper ever though and one year he didn't pay attention and the design was on the inside.

jennifer is decent at wrapping a gift. it is something that takes her time, so usually she will default to a bag with layers of tissue paper and a ribbon on the handle. if it's a gift for the avengers, she buys avenger themed wrapping paper. she thinks its funny. she'll try to get something very direct and on the nose for whoever she's gifting it to.

natasha uses a little bit too much tape but she gets the job done. she's not that fussy, she doesn't really care for a ribbon. if it's oddly shaped, there's more tape. her biggest struggle really is that she keeps using the little tapes that are semi transparent and don't hold anything well.

bob is... he's patient with his wrapping paper but he will fully throw a piece away if it's clear that this might be his 3rd or 4th fold of it and it's starting to get those white rubbed off design creases. it's gonna be sweet though, he likes to do a bow! he's very good at doing bow designs with it.

bradley puts it in a bag. bradley hasn't really done gifts over the years and when he does, he's putting it in a bag. no hassle.

josh needs somebody else to wrap it. if he can get someone else to wrap it he will. he thinks the best addition in consumerism has been the in store gift wrappers. that being said, he's perfectly capable of a decent wrap job.

cj is a box person. sometimes she'll add a very simple ribbon, but usually it's just a box. it's what's fast, and she really doesn't want to deal with the trials of wrapping.

donna is a very simple wrapper. she's very good at it, but she doesn't let it ruin her day. she's wrapped a lot of stuff, and she honestly thinks not everything has to be incredibly sharped and pressed. there's some homey feeling to a little bit of puff and extra love. she loves a very classic paper like a plaid or something with cute drawings

midge knows how to wrap. midge could wrap a bicycle, she could wrap a pony, she would find a way to wrap you a house. she loves a bow and she loves the holidays. the finest gift wrapping you will ever see and experience in your life will come from her.

cathy is going to show you a ribbon so masterful and then call it "just a little 'ol family trick" she knows. she's been making the same full out ribbon on gifts since she was a little girl. the wrapping is alright, but the bow is the masterpiece.

finnick: let me just say. you're lucky if it isn't handed to you wet.

buck is still watching the same youtube video on repeat. actually not the whole video, but just the same 6 seconds where he's not sure what just happened and he needs to see it more, and no it doesn't occur to him to slow down the video. the gift will be wrapped well.

bobby is CLEAN with those folds. the 118 is lined up outside his door when they need something wrapped and he takes a lot of pride in that. he might even host a little santa's workshop to teach everyone to wrap and yes he calls it that.

ellie likes to put a gift right into someone's hands. she's a little too excited about whatever she's gifting because usually she picks something so good or just so cheeky that she doesn't even want to wait through the other person unwrapping it.

elizabeth uses a box for everything. everything needs to be easy to wrap and she just won't do something odd shaped that's hard. she knows how to wrap a box though so things go in a box and she lines that with tissue paper for an added touch. then it's wrapped and it's decent!

trip... for all his engineering… theres like 6 added pieces to that thing bc he hasnt measured correctly. in fact hes so good at engineering that he was like. i fuckin got this. enjoy this surgery job of a wrap

paul tries to wrap things with wrapping paper. he really does try. it's not good though. he should stop trying. he hands the gift over and knows it's not a great job, but it's a job and it's the gift that matters and these are all things he will say to the person too.

gen goes for wrapping but no bow. he also sticks to red or gold wrapping paper usually as a preference! he's pretty good at it and when it comes to an oddly shaped object will commit to finding a way around it that still looks nice. he might do that thing where it's rolled up like a tube with a rubber band or tie on each end.

joann wraps all things with natural materials, or as close to natural as it gets with the replicators and such. she'll use a rope or a twine in place of a ribbon, but ribbons work too. she will forgo paper usually and it's just wrapped with the tie!

adira goes for a box with a ribbon! the ribbon is just your most basic kind, but really the presentation is kept absolutely simple.

spock doesn't wrap gifts usually. he's much more of a hand someone something directly kind of guy. that being said, he's been around humans who do wrap for a while and so sometimes he might put it in a very nice piece of fabric!

mark: bag alert. this one's putting it in a bag. one time, he gave a present directly in the store bag he bought it in.

farrah doesn't wrap things. she's also a put it in your hands directly sort of person, but also she doesn't tend to do big gifts. more often than not it's a small token of something and so it might go into a pouch if anything at all.

neal gives gifts that wrapping is at times not necessary for. a nice bottle of wine comes in a box. beautiful jewelry comes in a pristine box. his gifts speak for themselves. he's never wrapped anything and he might risk a paper cut if he does.

holly wraps it in tissue paper by just folding it over and over but like... sides open. it's weird. it's a mess. she also puts it in a bag.

[fablesuntold]

Requested starter for — Annie Cresta x Finnick Odair ✨ @musingmemories

Loop the loop. Tie the knot. Loosen it.. Repeat.

A repetitive ritual Finnick found solace in, fingertips coarse and raw from the constant handling of rope he kept on his person at all times— a habit picked up from his first game and carried on to the present. A habit that only became more frequent since he’d been rescued from the arena and made the daunting discovery that his Annie had been taken hostage by the Capitol solely for the purpose that they could gain leverage over him and the rest of the rebels hiding out in District Thirteen who dared oppose them— as if her mind hadn’t been tormented enough already. To say Finnick was overcome with distraught would be putting it mildly. The Capitol was no place for Annie Cresta.. nor Peeta Mellark or Johanna Mason for that matter, who’d also found themselves on the receiving end of Snow’s retaliation.

All hope for their release was quickly deteriorating. Getting to her — to them — would be a suicide mission. Snow would be waiting, along with his army of Peacekeepers ready to gun them down the minute they got within a mile of the Capitol walls. Who knew what they’d already done to her.. Finnick would even go as far as to say that Annie was better off stone cold dead than in their clutches.

And what else could he do other than sit around, and play with the same rope he’d fantasised about how easy it would be to wrap around his throat and tighten it until all light eventually slipped away from him.. and he was carried off to a better place to reunite with Annie once again, to exist in a world where they could be together forever. Those dark thoughts almost won. Had it not been for Katniss’ reassurance or Peeta’s foreboding warning, Finnick may have just committed to ending it right then and there— the easy way out some would call it. To Finnick? It was one step closer to being with Annie.

As though his prayers had been answered by some higher power, plans to infiltrate the Capitol commenced rather abruptly — him, the distraction to buy the the rebels some time by airing all of Snow’s dirty little secrets live as Boggs and his army did their thing. And sure enough, they prevailed. Just like that, Annie was back in his arms within hours and through fits of sobs and tears, their love for each other was recited in whispered sweet nothings and lingering touches.. all of which lasted throughout the night until early morning where Finnick found himself waking up in her arms.

Waking up tangled beneath thin cotton sheets with his one true love? Finnick felt complete again. Not even the gloominess that surrounded District Thirteen’s bunker fazed him anymore.

They were finally free from the Capitol’s hold. He was free from being their ‘darling.’ A title that still made him shudder to his core the more he thought about it. It was Annie that had gotten him through the endless nights of undesired suitors requesting his company; Snow’s personal punishment for him that held severe consequences for anyone in his life that he cared about if he were to reject the advances made by his many admirers. They used him for their own personal pleasure. They left him feeling dirty every time, their hands on him feeling more like thorns tracing his skin, the only comfort being Annie’s face every time he closed his eyes. All he’d ever wanted was to give himself to her completely.. and now he could. What he shared with her.. it was special.

Leaning up on his elbow to stare adoringly at his lover’s sleeping face through the dim lighting, Finnick’s hand carefully traced the freckles on her cheek. “Annie..?” Given her state of mind, Finnick knew to take it slow when it came to rousing her from sleep. Easily startled, the last thing he wanted to do was alarm her. “Annie, wake up my love.” Leaning down to place butterfly kisses in his fingers wake, Finnick pulled back slightly with a lazy grin when feeling her begin to stir. “You looked peaceful.. you slept through the entire night. No nightmares this time?” That would be a first.. yet, Finnick could only hope that her dreams had spared her this one time.

[prowl-autism-extraordinaire]

finnick odair isnt twitchy or panicky because having that kind of response would mean killing the people he is committed to protexting and that is intolerable

hes unflappable when hes "working" and as long as he'll have to perform. the only time finnick ever is completely genuine is home in four, completely alone and unserveiled. hes more honest with annie and mags than anyone else, but he would not let down his guard enough to be entirely genuine because thats how people die.

finnick was nearly nonfunctional in 13 because his driving force has been to protect his important people for his whole life and he failed. there wasnt anyone to protect by being "together" and there wasnt a way he could protect them anyway. the only reason he started that propo for 13 was because they were actively retrieving annie and he knew she was in the least danger of retaliation she could possibly be.

[luminescenc1e]

"I never know what to say to you, Annie," he thinks, his eyes on her, a faint smile ghosting across his lips. He wants to protect her, more than anything, but how? What he's done so far—keeping her safe from all that darkness, keeping the nightmares just out of reach—it feels like it’s only a matter of time. They’re still out there, waiting for her, waiting for them both, like shadows cast too close to the fire.

He knows it won’t last. He’ll be back in the Capitol soon, and another reaping will begin. Another handful of children ripped from their families, and he’ll be the one to lead them straight into that gleaming hell of lights and luxury. He can’t save them any more than he can save himself. He lets out a sharp breath, then flashes her a wry grin. “People tend to like me when I’m being enigmatic. It adds to the allure, don’t you think?” For a brief moment, he slips into that role, the Capitol darling, the charmer, the Finnick Odair everyone wants him to be. But only for a moment.

Then he lets it fall, moving closer to her on the small, threadbare blanket they’ve laid out on the sand. He drops the Capitol accent, lets his words soften into the lilting tones of home. His fingers brush hers as he leans in, and he feels grounded, held together by her presence. Annie reminds him of everything he fights for, everything he holds on to. And for once, that makes it a little easier to breathe.

“How about we go for a walk?” he murmurs. “The days are shorter now, but we could stroll by the water, pick up some of those snacks you love. What do you say?”

heavenstrck asked: “ you never say what you mean. “ ( for finnick ! )

[wr1tten]

@ircnwrought liked for a starter

witnessing  the  reaping  as  a  v    i    c    t    o    r  was  bittersweet;      he  couldn’t  be  thrown  back  in,    but  he  was  forced  to  get  close  to  these  people.      then  watch  them  suffer  their  ꜰᴀᴛᴇ.      this  time  would  be  worse.      annie  had  a  brightness  that  would  linger.      scorching  his  eyes,    ruining  them  for  any  other  he  might  catch  in  his  gaze.      pinky  grazed  hers,    both  their  hands  wrapped  around  the  railing,    staring  out  at  the  ˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ  ˢᵏʸ.      she  would  be  in  the  arena  tomorrow.      fighting  to  stay  alive,            ❝ you  can’t  be  𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥  in  there.      you  need  to  fight,    and  fight  hard. ❞            turning,    his  hand  reaching,    touching  her  face,    for  possibly   the  last  time,            ❝ you  can  win.      we  both  know  you  can.      don’t  prove  me  wrong. ❞            it  was  stern,    a  ᵈᵉˢᵖᵉʳᵃᵗᵉ  sound  hidden  beneath.  

[primpindrop]

@mockingjaysfm

Ashley Moore. Female . She/her ➶ i recognise that face ! primrose Everdeen, the 32 years old medic from district 12 . they’re lucky to have escaped to / district thirteen during 94th hunger games and have been here long enough to gain a reputation for being so kind & overtly trusting .  – queen . 23 . She/her . Cdt . Sa and CSA

jenny boyd . cis woman . she / her ➶ did you see them ?! they were a spectator  during the 94th games, and you know they were one of my favourites ! it’s melody ward  , the twenty three year old winner of the ninetieth hunger games! they brought great honour to district four and escaped to thirteen during the 94th games ! the world just loved them for being so funny, even if they have been known to be hardened to the world at times . 

joseph morgan . cis man . he / him ➶ did you see them ?! they were a mentor during the 94th games, and you know they were one of my favourites ! it’s finnick odair , the forty three year old winner of the year they won in sixty fifth hunger games! they brought great honour to district number and escaped to thirteen during the 94th games / three months after the 94th games ! the world just loved them for being so charming, even if they have been known to be arrogant at times .

[isdeathlystill]

what does your heart look like?

a bird struggling to get loose

Your heart can never hold still. It pounds against your chest frantically, always turning your sights to one thing after the next. When was the last time you were certain? The last time your life was stable? Maybe this is how you prefer things. On the move constantly, not tied down to one person or place. You chase one goal after the next. Can you ever really feel complete without a place to land? Shouldn’t you build yourself a nest?

TAGGING: you <3

[cathaedra]

( private )  tag drops. 

ㅤ * ㅤ finnick  odair ㅤ … ㅤ writing.

ㅤ * ㅤ finnick  odair ㅤ … ㅤ images.

ㅤ * ㅤ finnick  odair ㅤ … ㅤ about.

ㅤ * ㅤ finnick  odair ㅤ … ㅤ rel.   annie  cresta    /    70th.

ㅤ * ㅤ finnick  odair ㅤ … ㅤ rel.   mags.

ㅤ * ㅤ finnick  odair ㅤ … ㅤ rel.   katniss  everdeen.

ㅤ * ㅤ finnick  odair ㅤ … ㅤ rel.   peeta  mellark.

ㅤ * ㅤ finnick  odair ㅤ … ㅤ rel.   johanna  mason.

ㅤ * ㅤ finnick  odair ㅤ … ㅤ rel.   the  victors.

[kolmikalson]

[sapphiredhearts-a]

𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙶𝙸𝙲 𝙷𝙾𝚁𝚁𝙾𝚁 𝚃𝚁𝙾𝙿𝙴 𝙰𝚁𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄 ?

the  ghost .   it's an odd thing, to feel so far from grounded and yet trapped, tethered, unable to escape. there's more you have to do! so why can't you move? i'm sure you have an answer to that, at the very least in the back of your mind. people love to say that ghosts hold grudges or haunt for revenge but they always get it wrong; you're stuck because something or someone chained you down and left you there. you try and reach out to all those bright people who pass through your life, but it rarely feels like it does much more than knock a cup off the table, blow some papers into the air. i need you to trust me- they see it. they're listening. they'll keep looking for you and, eventually, they'll be able to see you too.

tagging:  you reading this !

tagged  by:  @patentyd ( ty so much !! )

[luminescenc1e]

“ Another pretty girl… my my good to see that your self-esteem is properly secured in place. ” Making light of the situation was second nature by now, taking what reality so meagerly offered and turning it into something else - a means of moving forward, of survival. “ Johanna wouldn’t have bothered coming here, and if by some chance she did manage to make her way to the roof, I’m sure she would have been incessantly wealthy in her support of you doing something reckless. " Not that Johanna would have wanted the girl to be injured - or for her to harm herself. But her methods of…support, are perhaps, one could say, a bit unusual. His mask of ease and nonchalance had been placed aside, but she had to understand, no matter how bitterly cruel it was, that this would never end, at least not in their lifetime. Or so it seemed.

” You can’t help them - not really. You can make them promises, the tributes - but never the families. They will blame you, even though they know it had nothing to do with you, even though it’s not your fault. But you’re easier, they can see you in person. The people here are too far off and are only seen on screens. Untouchable. It seems somehow a waste to blame them, even if it is them who orchestrate these planned murders of children. “

He places a hand on her shoulder, a small squeeze. There isn’t something that he can do or say that would make it easier, that would ease the reality of what their role in life has been turned into. They are trapped, still playing games - the arena is just bigger, more complex.

” We can and we will. We are the only people who care about these children when they come here…no one else does. For them, we have to try, and for anyone back home. So we have to do something with that little power we have, for them, for us. “ Not that any of it makes it right, and he’s not sure at times if he remembers life - normal life like it was before he entered his own games.

That life is clouded, behind a shroud - buried and protected from the rest of the world. ” Come on down, let me make you a drink. I am really good at those. And they…“ He looks at the city below them. ” Don’t deserve what even field flowers can do every day, the sky is wasted on them. “ Gracefully Finnick gets up, takes a few steps, and waits for her to follow.

abilene's eyes rolled as finnick sat beside her , and for just a brief moment after he nudges her with his knee a smile brushed over her face before her lips pressed into a line again . back home the night sky was blanketed with stars and every couple of seconds one would fall across the sky , but here she could only see one or two at most . she supposed there was no need for a night sky when they could create their own with glittering lights that more often than not gave her a pounding headache .

she snorted and shook her head . few victors died of old age , and even fewer mentors , after all . abilene hated it , she hated every part of being a mentor , but who else would do it ? she was not as fast , or smart , or strong as the other victors but she was good at getting sponsors . she couldn't bear the thought of those kids dying thinking that no one cared for them , that they were just lambs to the slaughter .

❛ there's always a replacement , ❜ her voice was quiet and her knee continued to bounce . ❛ just as soon as i was gone they'd find another pretty girl to take my place . ❜ that was , perhaps , the other reason she wouldn't leave . they'd just take another girl and do the same thing to her .

❛ i'm not sure if johanna would throw me over or drag me back . ❜ after another breath she laughed quietly and nudged him with her knee again . ❛ besides , they probably have the entire rooftop covered in one of those holo-things like the training center . i'd just bounce back and come back down to the party smelling like burnt hair . ❜

abilene looked back down to her hands , her knuckles white as they pressed into her knees , and felt the lump in her throat grow . ❛ the girl this year used to be friends with my little brother . . . before he died . i told her i would help her , and now i have look her mama in the eyes and bring her home in a little box . it just . . . ❜ her voice dropped , so quiet that a stray breeze could cover up her words , and continued , ❛ this can't keep happening . we- i can't keep doing this . ❜

her eyes scanned the area briefly as though she expected guards to jump from the flower bushes to take her away . perhaps she did expect it , but it didn't come . abilene let out a shaky breath and looked up to the sky with finnick . ❛ do you think they even know that there's more stars up there ? ❜ she asked , one of her hands wiping at her cheek .

[entriprises]

tag dump #6 !

[fablesuntold]

WHAT COLOUR IS YOUR SOUL? — THE HUNGER GAMES EDITION.

PEETA MELLARK

Result: Blush.

Early morning skies. Warm candle glow. The first hint of spring. Your soul is blush: a tender blend of gentle strength and heartwarming sincerity. You move through life with a quiet grace, exuding a warmth and softness that comforts and uplifts those around you. Your spirit is nurturing and compassionate, touched with a natural kindness and an empathetic understanding. In your presence, there’s a feeling of quiet intimacy and genuine connection, like a heartfelt conversation in a cozy, sunlit room. You embody the sweetness of affection and the quiet power of vulnerability, encouraging others to open their hearts and embrace their true selves. Your approach to life is thoughtful and considerate, finding beauty in the subtleties and valuing the deep, emotional bonds of relationships.

FINNICK ODAIR

Result: Scarlet.

Dramatic love stories. Flaring sunsets. Everlasting memories. Your soul is scarlet: a passionate blend of energy, courage, and lively spirit. You navigate life with the brilliance and intensity of a burning flame, captivating and lively. Your spirit is bold and dynamic, sparking excitement and a zest for life in those around you. In your presence, there’s a sense of daring and a vibrant energy, like the rich color of scarlet that stands out with a confident allure. You embody the vibrancy of life, encouraging others to embrace their passions and to live each moment with enthusiasm and vigor. Your approach to life is spirited and heartfelt, inspiring a courageous pursuit of dreams and a celebration of the joys of life.

HAYMITCH ABERNATHY

Result: Rust.

Aged iron gates. Faded murals. Warm cinnamon. Your soul is rust: a blend of endurance, transformation, and a deep connection to the past. You navigate life with the resilience and character of weathered steel, bearing the marks of time with pride. Your spirit is rich with the wisdom of experience, offering a grounded perspective and an appreciation for the cycles of change. In your presence, there’s a sense of time-tested strength and a deep, earthy grounding, like the enduring nature of rust that stands as a testament to the passage of time. You embody the beauty of aging and the dignity of perseverance, guiding others to embrace their journeys and to find strength in their stories. Your approach to life is pragmatic and deeply reflective, encouraging a profound appreciation for the layers of history and the lessons they hold.

[eufezco]

THREE LIES AT ONCE

FINNICK ODAIR X FEM!STYLIST!READER

this is based on a prompt from character.ai c:

SYNOPSIS -> You're his stylist and you discover bruises.

You liked it when Finnick visited the Capitol and Finnick hated doing it except for the fact that he knew you would be there.

You had already earned a reputation as a stylist in the Capitol when you two met. And it had been four years since Finnick won his games but President Snow had kept him close because nothing was more appealing than a charming boy in his twenties to the people of the Capitol.

You learned from the best. Cinna taught you everything he knew about fashion and then made you forget about it all so you could build your own style. It actually worked quite well because your designs were sold in the Capitol as if people needed them to live.

Your colors and characteristic shapes, your outrageous skirts, your long dresses, and your headdresses were worn by everyone, men and women fought over your designs and they spent all their savings on your clothes. President Snow was more than delighted with you, not only because his granddaughter deeply admired you but because you knew how to be liked, and he loved that about you.

That's why President Snow found the perfect match with Finnick and you and for once in his life, he did something right.

Finnick became your muse. From the moment you were introduced at the Capitol and you saw him walking towards you with those bright green eyes, his perfectly messy blonde hair, his tanned skin thanks to the way the sun in District 4, and his body that looked like it had been sculpted by the gods. You knew you never wanted to design anything else but for him.

―When did you arrive and how is it that you haven't come to see me earlier? ―You threw yourself into his arms, your fingers dug into his blond locks of hair. This was not the typical relationship that stylists used to have with their models but after working with him for a couple of years now, it was inevitable that some affection would grow between the two of you. Especially when, during his stays in the Capitol, you spent most of your time together. You were the only thing that kept him from going crazy.

He would sit and watch you while you sketched out his next outfit. You would share a drink and ask him questions about how his life was back in District 4. Finnick loved to talk about his home and you loved to imagine yourself there, in the places that Finnick described to you so precisely. The sea reaching your feet, the sun shining against your skin, the sound of seagulls flying across the bluest sky you had ever seen... And for some reason that you were still trying to figure out, every time you imagined yourself in one of those scenarios, he was by your side. District 4 seemed like a lovely place.

Finnick's arms wrapped around your waist while his face hid in the crook of your neck. He inhaled your familiar scent when you hugged, too sweet for the Capitol, not like the perfume people there used to keep up with their continuous call for attention.

―Yesterday but I was too tired from the trip.

That was the first lie that Finnick told you that night.

There was an expression of relief on your face with something like a small smile on your lips, grateful to see him again after such a long time and when everything in your life was chaos thanks to the preparation of the next games. Your eyes were closed, enjoying him holding you until you heard him say those words and then they opened in a combination of surprise and confusion.

―Don't think that being tired is an excuse for not coming to see me, Finnick Odair. That should always be the first thing you do as soon as you set foot here. ―You said, still thinking about why would he lie to you.

You moved apart from the hug and Finnick had a big smile on his lips that inevitably made you smile too. ―I'm sorry. ―He apologized.

―You better be. But now I need you to tell me if you like it.

You turned to grab your notebook and showed him the sketch you drew. Finnick took the notebook from your hands so he could take a better look and admire every detail.

―This is beautiful. You're an artist. I doubt there is anyone half as good as you in the whole Panem.

―Oh, there's Cinna. I haven't managed to dethrone him yet.

―Come on, you outdid Cinna a long time ago. He says so himself. The student surpassed the master, there's nothing wrong with that.

You shook your head and said nothing. Finnick rolled his eyes, he knew you didn't like hearing from him or anyone else that you were better than Cinna. Not even when Cinna himself tells you.

―Have you started sewing it yet? Can I see it?

―That's why I needed to see you. I haven't started yet because I need to measure you again. The last time you wore one of my garments it was too tight. I don't want to risk it not fitting you this time. ―You grabbed the measuring tape and pins from the table in your studio, full of fabrics and patterns for the new tributes. Cinna had given you his notebook with some beautiful sketches and had told you that he needed something similar but for the male tribute, a guy named Peeta Mellark from District 12, and you had been working day and night to meet Cinna's expectations. ―The robe is behind the dressing screen.

―Yes ma'am.

Finnick walked over without saying another word. You admired his figure as he walked away. Finnick's back was twice as wide as when you met him, his arms had grown stronger, now you could identify each of the muscles in them and his legs had also doubled in size, unfortunately, Finnick loved to wear long skirts, if it were up to you he would be showing them all the time. The features of his face had also changed, now they were more pronounced. Finnick's dimples were more visible and his jaw was so sharp you'd swear if you slid your finger along it you'd cut yourself.

―This looks great on you. I don't know why I try to design you something new every time. I should let you go around with that.

Finnick shook his head, failing in his attempt not to laugh at your stupid joke. ―You are not only the best designer but also the funniest one, huh?

You rolled your eyes. Finnick knew you didn't like it when he told you that and he did it on purpose to tease you. ―Come on, take it off.

Finnick stood before the mirror as you stood behind him. Once he slipped it off, you gasped and jumped back, horrified.

―Gosh, Finnick, what is this? ―You took a few steps backward at the sight of the bruises that trailed down his back. By their bright red color you would say were rather recent. You didn't know how to react, you were petrified staring at his back.

Finnick smiled, dismissing what you just saw with practiced charm. ―Ah, just a little souvenir. My lovers like to play rough. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.

That was the second lie Finnick told you that night.

Finnick's chest was heavy but he was trying to keep his cool. He had assumed that by the time the two of you saw each other the wounds would have healed, besides the fact that he didn't think he would have to undress in front of you.

―Your lovers? This absolute atrocity was done by one of your lovers?

―They were probably just a little too... enthusiastic. Besides, I don't have a problem with it, I like it. My skin heals fast so I'll be all good in no time.

And that was the third lie. His skin did not heal fast. You had always told him off for coming to dress rehearsals all bruised up from his training sessions and those bruises had lasted for days. These new ones were sure to stay on his skin for at least a month.

―How can some one like this?

Finnick could hear the disdain in your voice. You should be disgusted, horrified and definitely judging him, but don't worry, so was he.

―Honey, if you don't understand it's not my problem.

―No, you're right. I don't understand. I don't think you enjoyed that.

―Oh, you're gonna tell me what I can or cannot enjoy?

―Have you seen your back? Have you seen how bad this looks?

Finnick chuckled. ―I don't know why you're making such a big deal out of this. Do you need all the details? Is the life of a stylist so boring?

―Finnick, listen to me. I don't want all the details I want the truth, and now it's the perfect time to start. ―You said. You grabbed him by his shoulders and turned him around to look at you. Finnick groaned as your hands were placed on his shoulders and when he stood face to face with you, he could see how upset you were.

―I don't know what you're talking about. ―He bit the inside of his cheeks, that was just what he had been told, not to tell anyone the truth about what had happened. He saw you roll your eyes and let all the air out of your body through your mouth, annoyed.

―I know that you didn't arrive yesterday. Cinna told me. Do you really think you can go unnoticed? Here? And I know for a fact that those bruises are not from one of your lovers, let alone that they were done to you a couple of days ago.

Finnick swallowed, looking at you with his head held high. He tried to keep the smile on his lips, pretending that everything was okay, that he did enjoy it when those bruises were inflicted on him, but his lower lip betrayed him and began to tremble. You bent down to pick up the robe and carefully threw it over his shoulders so he wouldn't feel so exposed. Finnick's head was bowed. You lifted it using your thumb and index finger on his chin very gently.

―I need you to tell me who did this to you. I can't help you if you don't tell me.

Finnick chuckled amid the sadness and shame he was feeling. ―Help me? You can't help me.

―I'm sure there's something I can do. I could―.

―They were Peacekeepers following Snow's orders.

Your jaw dropped and your heart rate accelerated. It was the first time that Finnick was admitting that to someone. It had been impossible to tell anyone, let alone a citizen of the Capitol like you. Finnick couldn't possibly admit that without compromising his carefully cultivated image. Besides, if he made himself out to be a victim, the Capitol would never allow someone they saw as weak to perform the role of the Golden Boy and all the people he cared about in District 4 would die. At that moment you realized that all the times he showed up at your studio claiming that his injuries were from training were not true and you felt sick to your stomach.

―How did it happen? ―You asked, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat

―I tried to leave the Capitol. Before I could get on the train back to District 4 I was arrested by Peacekeepers and they took me to Snow's mansion. A lot of people came and when I refused to see them... I've been locked up there since then, that's why I couldn't come to see you earlier.

You shook your head, feeling awful. ―Don't worry about it, Finnick. I'm so sorry this is happening to you. ―Your stomach complained and begged your brain to stop imagining everything that Finnick would have been put through since then. The beatings, the strangers paying to sneak into his bed, the Peacekeepers bursting into his room and leaving him bleeding on the floor...

―Snow likes me. There has to be something I can do for you.

―You don't understand. It's not something that I can quit.

―I can spend all day designing and sewing to pay Snow the money he would make with you. I can talk to Cinna to raise the price of our designs. People here are rotten with money, they'll keep buying them anyway.

―It's not that simple. You can't just buy my freedom.

―Has anyone tried before?

Finnick thought about it and shook his head. ―Snow wouldn't allow that to happen. ―You ran your hand over your face in despair, not knowing what else to do to help him and feeling a responsibility to do something about it. You were the citizen of the Capitol, the one who had superior status and the favor of Snow, there must be something you could do.

―What if I buy you?

Finnick's eyes widened in surprise. ―Buy me?

You nodded and realized how bad that sounded. ―But not in like, a slave type of way. Gosh that sounded awful. I would just― Do it so you can live your life in your district. I wouldn't― keep you here, no. You'd just have to come to the Capitol a couple of times, make a few public appearances, and leave again.

―Why would you do that for me?

You bit the inside of your cheeks and nodded. ―You're my friend. I care about you.

You had managed to give him something he had long been missing. Hope. Maybe what you wanted to do would work or maybe not but at that moment Finnick felt that someone cared and that gave him hope that everything would work out.

Finnick took a step forward and placed his hands on your cheeks. He leaned in slightly and connected his lips with yours. Your hands ended up resting against his warm bare chest, closing your eyes and allowing him to kiss you. You knew it was the emotion of the moment, the adrenaline rush of knowing that maybe he could live his life in peace. You had given him hope and he was happy that someone had shed some light on his situation.

When you parted ways after the kiss, you both were smiling.

―Go and put your pants on, I'll treat your bruises.

―Do you know how?

―Well, not really, but I'm not short of needle and thread and I still have some alcohol from last night.

Finnick pressed his lips together and nodded. That would work. He walked to the dressing screen and you watched him as he walked away in the mirror's reflection. Before hiding behind the dressing screen, he said something that lit up a flame in your heart and made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

―I wish you would come with me to District 4.

my requests for the hunger games are open 📥

[luminescenc1e]

"Are we... trying to camouflage ourselves with the world’s ugliest tablecloth?" He glanced at the gaudy, mismatched explosion of colors and patterns spread across the table behind her—truly a Capitol masterpiece of bad taste, complete with their questionable idea of gourmet finger foods.

"If you step back any further, you might just become part of the décor. "He offered his arm with a flourish, the picture of effortless charm. "Come on, let’s make the rounds. I’ll even rescue you from your tragic lack of small talk skills. Consider it my good deed for the day."

@qverdia liked this for a short starter!