#and finnick's at the academy

[pose1dson]

“Hey, it’s cold outside. At least wear a jacket.”

" it's not even that cold ! " the boy exclaims . he's too excited to be thinking straight . his brother is home , it's sunny out in percy's mind , he doesn't care what the temperature . he's just excited to spend time with finnick for the first time in a while . " come on , come on ! let's go ! " he tugs on his brother's arm , laughing as he pulls him towards the door .

@4thdistrict

[traagedyenjoyer]

is your comfort character really your comfort character if I bet on losing dogs by mitski isnt in every single character playlist on spotify?

[thehungergamesmemes]

Finnick: *Watching Johanna scream at Katniss* I should probably try and stop her

Finnick: But at the same time... I wanna see how this will play out

[saltwaterburns]

hi can someone teach me how tumblr works. Been here 2+ years and i'm still confused. Let's say I want to readdddd 'whoever x reader' and i type it into the search bar, the same results always come up. Is it supposed to be like that? How will i find new authors with undiscovered amazing pieces of literature? 🙁

[jetsteelyourheart]

Yay to be tagged by @retiredficwriter!!

Rules: Make a poll with five of your all-time favorite characters and then tag five people to do the same. See which character is everyone's favorite!

Oh god, only 5? In all media ever??? This is gonna be hard. Similar to my Tag-Buddy, I'm forcing myself to choose one character per media max, one in each category:

Book, Web Show, Animation, Film, TV show, Video Game, Anime/Manga, Theater

Ok, so its a top 8. I needed 1 per category. Please don't break my heart (IDEK who my fave fave is)

Top 5 Fav Characters of All Time

tagging @ebbilayart and @doctahaphra and anyone else who feels like it

[odestasocean]

odesta week day three: free space

this is a new chapter of one of my fics posted on ao3! there’s some references to the other two chapters so if you want to read that first, you can do so here. but you’ll still be able to get the general idea if you choose not to. anyway, enjoy <3

He knows that he should be scared right now.

He just volunteered to be a tribute in the 65th Hunger Games, after all.

He knows that he should be scared because of the whispers he heard as he made his way to the stage— “The youngest Odair boy? Isn’t he only 13?” No, he’s 14, and 14 is a very fearless age to be. He knows that he should be scared because of the tears he saw form in Calder’s eyes— his big brother never cries. Except for the year that Finnick turned five. He knows that he should be scared because of the half-yelp, half-shout sound that came from his father’s mouth the moment Finnick raised his hand— doesn’t his father understand that he’s doing this for him and Calder? They’ve barely been able to afford acquiring this month’s supply of fishhooks. Victors are promised an endless supply of wealth for themselves and their families for the rest of their lives. He will remind his father of this once they join him in the Justice Building.

Finnick knows all of this, but he isn’t scared.

The Peacekeeper standing in the room with him might think so because of the way he can’t stop his leg from shaking, but that’s only because he thinks that his father and his brother are going to be scared and he hates worrying them.

He looks up as he hears their voices sound from outside the closed door.

Finnick isn’t scared when he notices the tears rolling down his father’s cheeks as he enters the room with Calder right behind him.

“Finn,” his dad says. He doesn’t say anything else until he marches up to him and pulls him into a tight embrace. “Why are you doing this?”

“I can win, Dad,” Finnick insists as he draws back. He puts his hands on his dad’s shoulders since he’s almost as tall as him now. “I’m at the top of my class at the Career Academy. I’ve passed every test with flying colors. I know I can win. And Victors are promised a lifetime of wealth. You won’t have to worry anymore.”

An expression passes over his dad’s face that Finnick’s never seen before. It’s somewhere between guilt, remorse, and a breaking heart.

“Oh, son,” he whispers. “You have to win. But not because of the money. Because I need my son to come back home to me.”

He doesn’t really know how to reply to this (because of course he’s coming back) so he settles for a nod.

Calder approaches him next and hugs him just as tightly as their dad did. “You’re such an idiot,” he says, but it’s not in his usual teasing manner. Instead, it sounds strained and sorrowful.

“An idiot who’s going to win these Games,” Finnick answers once he pulls away.

“I hope so,” Calder replies quietly. The way he won’t let go of Finnick’s arm makes him start to think that maybe this was all a bad idea because while he might be fearless, his dad and brother have never looked so petrified.

“I’ll be home sooner than you think,” Finnick says with a grin, attempting to uplift the mood. He hates, hates, hates how their eyes look like they’re trying to memorize every inch of his face.

His dad pulls him and Calder into another hug in response.

Finnick doesn’t draw back until he hears a familiar shout of his name coming from the hallway.

“Finnick!” Annie yells as she comes barreling into the room. Her eyes are wide and her hair is awry which causes an image of their first meeting from seven years ago to form in Finnick’s mind.

Except curiosity doesn’t heighten her expression. This time it’s terror.

She runs up to him and nearly knocks him over as her arms go around him with her face pressed against his chest. “You can’t go,” she says. “You can’t.”

“Don’t worry, I’m going to win, Annie,” he reassures. Why do the three people he cares most about in this world seem so fearful all of a sudden? Annie’s always shared his fearlessness. She’s never been scared, just like him. Except for those few months after his eleventh birthday that they don’t talk about. An immense wave of gratitude overtakes him that he was able to have his best friend back after Annie had convinced her mom to let them see each other again (he still doesn’t know how she managed to do that). He’s realizing now how hard it would’ve been to leave this room without feeling Annie’s arms around him. He doesn’t think he could’ve done it.

“I don’t want you to go,” she whispers and with the crack in her voice, Finnick knows she’s crying.

He slowly releases her grip on his shirt for her because he also knows that she won’t let go otherwise.

“Annie,” he murmurs while wiping her tears free from her skin. She closes her eyes and another escapes. “I’m going to come home. I promise.”

“You have to,” she replies. “Okay? You don’t have a choice.”

“I will,” he insists.

“I…” she sniffs and reaches into her pocket before pulling out a bracelet made out of rope that’s dyed green with a blue conch shell tied to its middle. “I made this for you. I was going to give it to you after the Reaping, but…”

Finnick gently takes it from her hands and slips it onto his wrist. “I’ll wear it as my token. Thank you, it’s beautiful,” he says quietly but sincerely.

Annie nods before embracing him again as her cries are muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

Then, all too quickly, the Peacekeepers are dragging his family and his best friend out of the room.

Annie’s shouts of protest are the last thing he hears before the door shuts behind them and he’s left with nothing but silence. He’s starting to think that maybe he should’ve been scared all along. Maybe it’s fear that drives tributes to win.

i’ve been super busy so far this week so i haven’t been able to read everyone’s else’s fics yet but i should have time tonight!!!

[solar-halos]

omg for the fic ask game, I’d love to know any fun fact about a deep dive into the mind of annie cresta <3

omg thank you for the ask! 🩵 hopefully i picked the funnest fact

in this universe, annie and finnick met when they were seven, so their favorite game to play around this time was pirates and mermaids. it’s basically just a game of tag but in the water. anyway, whenever annie sensed she was losing she’d pretend that her tail was hurt and when finnick got close enough she’d pounce

[nickeverdeen]

Hello! May I please have matchups for Harry Potter, The Hunger Games, The Maze Runner, and The Umbrella Academy? I understand if that is too much, just choose the ones you would like to do if it is :)

My pronouns are she/her, I have dirty blonde hair that goes to my waist, blue-green eyes, and I’m 5’3. I have been described as bookish, nerdy, introverted, and sweet. I have also been told that i am a good listener. I love reading, baking, archery, and writing! I hate bright colors, loud noises, dishonesty, and disloyalty. I dream about traveling the world to the point where no one knows my name, and i can just BE in peace. I wouldn’t mind having a partner though. Just one person who accept me. They don’t necessarily need to understand me, i would just like for them to like me the way i am.

Hey there. I’m sorry, but I didn’t do Harry Potter fandom, I just couldn’t figure anything out

————————————————————

Your Hunger Games match is…

Finnick Odair

Teases you about your height difference

Finnick isn’t really into books, but he’d still be curious what you’re reading

You > anything else he can think about

He won’t admit it, but he needs someone to listen to his troubles

Finnick would really appreciate you listening to what he has to say about his problems and trauma

Complimenting how good you are at archery and baking

Finnick can’t bake a single thing and he’d be willing to learn from you

He’s a very loyal boyfriend and would never cheat on you unless it’d be forced (Capitol)

Finnick would like to travel with you if you’d agree with him coming with you

He’s a very caring and protective boyfriend

You’re his first priority

You listen to his troubles, he listens to your troubles

Aris Jones

Plays with your hair while cuddling

Aris himself is an introverted person so don’t worry he won’t drag you into some parties

He’s a perfect listener too

Tell him your troubles and he’ll tell you his

Amazed at your skills

He’s not very much into reading, but would like it if you’d tell him about it

Aris doesn’t like you the way you are, he loves you the way you are

Takes you on some secret places

You’re the only one who he trusts with all of his secrets

Aris really cares about you

Complimets you

Small talks at night about random stuff

Viktor Hargreeves

He loves your eyes

Viktor has some tips for books if you’d like

He’s more into writing books instead of reading them, but he likes reading them with you much more

Just like Aris he’s a perfect listener

He admires your archery, but would never want to learn it

Man, he loves when you bake something with him

Viktor also doesn’t like loud noises much so no, he won’t take you somewhere loud

He’s very loyal and honest towards you so don’t worry, he’d never chest on you

Maybe he’d lie to you to protect you sometimes, but he’d feel bad

He also wants to go somewhere where no one knows him so he could also be at peace

Viktor would like to travel with you

He’s an absolute sweetheart

Forehead kisses

Or lips kissing

[coryosmin]

► THG P Links

NSFW | Minors Do Not Interact

All links are from twitter! i have compiled a list of links that anons have sent me + some that i have found for you guys to enjoy! this list will be updated frequently.

► Coriolanus Snow

• politician coryo relieving his stress

• riding drug dealer coryo in his car

• academy coryo and innocent reader

• breeding & overstimulation with university coryo

• post peacekeeper coryo x you

• politician coryo punishing you

• riding coryo’s cock while sej games

• riding best friend coryo

• riding coryo

► Sejanus Plinth

• sej desperately fucking reader

• breeding kink w sej

• soft dom sej teasing you

• district men do it better

• soft & sensual sex with sej

• sej fucking you hard and fast

• taking control

• sej eating you out

► Finnick Odair

• mutual masturbation with finnick

• riding finnick

• finnick fingering you

• finnick worshipping you

[kasagia]

District boy

Pairing: young! Coriolanus Snow x fem!Capitol! reader; doppëlganger! Finnick Odair x fem!Capitol! reader Summary: You and Corio were very close (best) friends. Young Snow had a crush on you for a very long time. But he wouldn't let anything distract him—not until he got his family out of their financial troubles. And then comes the 10th Hunger Games, in which you get to be a mentor for a very handsome tribute... Coryo isn't happy about it at all. Requested by: Two anonymous. I hope you will like it! 😊💙🖤 Warning(s): jealous Coriolanus Snow; (doppëlganger) of Finnick Odair; the author doesn't care that it is impossible; Coryo being simp for the reader; reader flirts with Finnick; quote from 'My tears ricochet' by Taylor Swift; Words count: 7k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @il0vebeingdelulu @chelseyyouraverageluigi ~•♤♤♤•~ Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist

Coriolanus did not remember the exact moment when this happened.

Everything that had to do with you came to him very... naturally.

Before he knew it, one joint project for one of your classes turned into daily discussions in the cafeteria. You entered his very small circle of 'friends' like you should have always belonged there and unknowingly became the best friend to young Snow.

And then you started staying in the library after classes, talking about various things (Coriolanus hated himself for wasting his time when he should have been studying on pointless discussions with you, but he always ended up in the library at the end of the day anyway).

And so one day he realised that you were wonderful when you laughed at his jokes. That the smell of your perfume made him hungrier than the baked goods that spread from the bakery he passed by every day on his way to the Academy. That he was missing something as he basked in the glow of your attention. That he would like you to be with him at all times, not only within the walls of the Academy, cafes (he never ordered himself anything, trying to stop his stomach from growling as he watched you eat the cake, occasionally offering him a bite), or the park. That he would like to have you completely to himself and hide you from the eyes of other people who, in his opinion, were not worthy of an ounce of your attention.

He remembered snapping at Festus when he asked him if you were seeing anyone. As if Coriolanus' claim about you wasn't obvious enough to him.

Although you also remained blind to his obvious feelings, which Sejanus said were as visible as an approaching change in the weather in the Rocky Mountains. By the way, he wondered when Sejanus would forget those catchphrases from District 2. They were very tiring and boring to listen to.

But Snow decided to let you stay in the dark for a little longer and admire you in silence, from his place next to you as your best friend. He promised himself that when he won the Plinth Prize, he would conquer not only the world but you and your heart. After all, he couldn't imagine anyone else being his First Lady than you.

He knew that his fascination with you was gradually turning into an unhealthy obsession. But what else could he do when you took his breath away just by existing? And Coryo wasn't used to not having control over his emotions. But with you... you could do whatever you wanted with him. And he was terrified, both by the fact that you had such power over him and by the fact that you were completely unaware of it.

However, everything was going according to his plan. He stayed by your side, guarding you like a gardener's dog and waiting for the moment when he would finally be worthy of you and make you his. And you seemed to obediently dismiss every admirer.

Until the 10th Hunger Games came along.

And a certain district boy stole too much of your attention for Coriolanus' liking. After all, you were HIS. Even if you didn't know about it yet.

"Hello, petal." He whispers in your ear, walking up to you from behind.

Surprised, you choke on the champagne you drank in secret from your parents and other participants in the reaping party at the Academy. He smiles in amusement, gently patting your back and discreetly placing the glass of champagne on the table for you.

"Coriolanus Snow, someday I'll put a fucking bell around your neck like my mother's cats have." You say, coughing. He laughs softly, offering you his arm, which you take once you've recovered.

"I thought you considered it brutal?" He replies sarcastically, glancing at the dress you were in, which hugged your curves perfectly.

A white dress that Tigris made for you 'coincidentally' matched perfectly with the outfit he was currently wearing. He had never been more proud of his cousin than he was now.

"I'm surprised that you think you're on an equal footing with my cats. You're no match for them, Snow." He rolls his eyes at you, but he can't help but smirk a little at your laugh.

"We will see." You snorted at that. You notice Sejanus in the crowd talking to his parents.

"I'll go say hello." You say, nodding towards Sejanus. But before you can take a step towards him, Coryo's grip on you tightens. You give him a questioning look, focusing your gaze on him.

"Stay with me. You know I don't like talking to them all by myself. Especially with Arachne. Sejan will be joining us soon." You sigh, rolling your eyes at him, but you don't try to fight his grip or let go of his arm as he leads you towards the group of your classmates.

"I spoil you too much, Snow."

"Nonsense, you could do better." You laugh in amusement, and he smiles at the sound of that.

But his good mood and relaxed demeanour quickly turned into a stoic expression. You feel him tense slightly and straighten, as if preparing for a fight, when you approach your classmates.

"Snow and Y/L/N. As always, together. You could finally make up your mind, darling, and choose one of them instead of hanging around him and Plinth." Arachne greets you, as always, nicely, at which you laugh artificially.

"Why should I when I can have both?" You reply with a shrug, making some of them laugh. However, you are most pleased with Arachne's grimace and the small smile on Coryo's lips.

"Usually it's the district girls who act like whores." You feel Coryo tense next to you, his eyes turning a cold, icy shade as he stares at the girl in front of you. If looks could kill, Coryo would become a serial killer. However, he could certainly make someone feel insecure and intimidated.

"Usually inheritance hunters don't complete their education and end up marrying some rich fool at the earliest opportunity, even before they turn 18. And yet here you are, Arachnie. I think that makes us both surprised then." You reply before Coryo can react. Festus shakes his head and stares at the both of you in amusement as you sinisterly glare at each other.

"Ladies, why all these quarrels? We already know who Y/N will end up with."

"And who is it, Festus?"

"Me." You shake your head at that, amused. However, Coryo, standing next to you, doesn't share your humor. He pulls you slightly closer to him, giving you a fleeting glance before focusing on Festus.

"For now, she's not on your shoulder, Creed."

"Enjoy it while you can, Snow. We'll see how things go when we enrol in university." You see Coriolanus tighten his jaw at his remark. You squeeze his arm slightly tighter, making him shift his gaze to you. You smile as he relaxes slightly under your attention.

"You made it to the graduation, Festus. You shouldn't set higher expectations for yourself than that." Sejan's voice echoes behind you. You snorted in amusement and turned around in Coryo's embrace; somehow you managed to get out of them enough to wrap your arms around your friend. "Y/N. You look as beautiful as always. Arachne, who are you trying to fool with this white outfit?" You hide your face behind Coryo's shoulder, trying to hold back a burst of laughter.

You feel Sejanus wrapping his arm around you. Now, you are held by your two friends, and the one with the lighter hair is definitely unhappy about having to share you with Plinth, but you are not able to notice it since the reaping is finally starting.

A murmur of women's whispers echoed throughout the room as a very handsome man emerged from the crowd. You leaned forward slightly, taking a closer look at the tall, athletic, and chiselled man with tanned skin and bronze hair.

With just one look into his stunning sea-green eyes and after seeing the huge, charming smile he sent for the cameras, you knew that whoever got this man was going to be the winner. Because no tribute ever made as much money from sponsors as a sinfully hot man usually did.

And this one was a special sight for the eyes. The reaction of most of the female part of the room and the jealous and furious looks of the men at the reaction of their other halves confirmed your suspicions.

"This boy from 4 belongs to Miss Y/N Y/L/N."

You licked your lips, smiling wolfishly, and watched your tribute on the screen. You were so lucky.

"You damn lucky dog." Persephone whispers in your ear and slaps your shoulder playfully. You give her a half-smile and shrug as the cameramen spend a little more time showing your tribute.

"What can I say... maybe I'll only attract hot men from now on? I hope his muscles aren't just for good looks, because that would be a shame." She shakes her head at your words, holding back a laugh. You smile and involuntarily glance at Coriolanus.

He immediately looks away from you. His jaw is set, and his leg bounces slightly. Anyone else would think he was relaxed and calm. But you knew him too well to assume that.

He was already nervous the moment Clem took your seat, and you were forced to sit in the second row, away from him. Coriolanus doesn't like it. He would rather hold your hand, feel the warmth of your body close to yours, and smell the faint scent of your perfume than sneak glances over his shoulder to keep an eye on you.

Sometimes he knows he can be painfully obvious, but he thanks fate for at least being kind enough to keep you unaware of his feelings for you. He would have you. Just not yet. First, his tribute had to win the damn Hunger Games so he could win Plinth's prize. Then he could make his move without fear of you discovering his family's financial situation. Finally, snow lands on top. And he spent many sleepless nights imagining that he would land on top of you.

You catch his gaze, but you don't have time to analyse his attitude. After a while, Lucy Gray appears on the screen, and you see that your handsome guy will have some competition for the Capitol's favour.

And the possible competition with your best friend makes you feel very uncomfortable. So much so that you don't notice the hateful glare Coriolanus shot at your tribute as the operators once again showed off the likenesses of this year's tributes.

Finnick Odair. A new obstacle in his plan that he had to eliminate. And not just to win the Hunger Games...

You haven't spoken to Coryo since then. Which was an extremely strange phenomenon because you were usually attached to each other at the hip.

Although you had seen him briefly during classes and now, when most of the mentors had gathered around the cage at the zoo to find their tributes and give them something to eat or drink, he didn't even spare you a second glance as he was fully focused on Lucy Gray.

Something was wrong with him.

Especially after his little stunt at the train station and his conversation with Dr. Gaul. Because of which, now (and mainly because of Sejanus' statement), you stand nervously near the bars, looking for your tribute.

And you couldn't help but wonder what exactly the Hunger Games were for. The more you thought about it, the more you started to side with Sejanus.

The First Rebellion may have done you great harm, but was it any wonder that the people of the district rebelled? After all, if any of you were born outside the Capitol, you would probably do what they did. So what was the point of murdering 23 of the young unfortunates who had been singled out for slaughter?

“You seem lost.” A voice next to you pulls you from your thoughts. You turn around, seeing your tribute leaning against the bars and watching you carefully. If he was hot on TV, he looked gorgeous in real life. His cheekbones and jaws look like they had been carved with chisels by the best of the artists. And his eyes... you wonder how such men could be born and live in any district. "Unless you're looking for something. Or someone, if I may boldly assume."

"Y/N Y/L/N. Your mentor." You say, reaching your hand out towards him through the bars. He takes your hand, placing a kiss on the back of it. You can't help but notice how soft his lips are against your skin. You blush slightly, and you can almost feel Flickerman's eyes and cameras behind you.

"I figured it out. Fate must be a little kind to me after all. Giving me the most beautiful of mentors as my guardian angel."

"You'll be able to say that when you win the Hunger Games." You reply, taking your hand from his and pulling food and drink out of your bag for him.

"When?" He asks, taking the cookie from you and immediately biting into it. That view is squeezing you with sadness, seeing how hungry he is. Despite everything, he still carries himself with grace and is extremely charming. You hope that the cameras will show him often. "How can you be so sure?"

"You are handsome. You attract women's attention. If you maintain that charming attitude of yours, you will probably earn quite a lot of money with those pretty eyes and smile. At least enough to not die of hunger or dehydration in the arena." You reply, searching for something else in your bag.

"Under different circumstances, I would be grateful for so many compliments, angel." You look up, meeting his gaze. And something inside you tells you that, in fact, if the circumstances were different, you would be talking about something completely different right now... or doing something much more enjoyable.

"When you win, who knows? Once a tribute stayed in the Capitol after winning." You say, handing him your cousin's old white sweater that he found in the closet.

"Sorry, honey, but I doubt I'd want to stay in the Capitol. Even for such a nice view." He says this, unabashedly taking off the slightly torn and dirty shirt he was wearing.

He soaks it in the water you gave him and rinses himself off, putting on a show for the entire Capitol audience to watch thanks to the cameras trained on him and the people in the zoo. You lick your lips, trying not to openly stare at the muscles on his chest and act rude (or, in this case, like a horny teenager).

"You're behind bars." You clear your throat, reminding him that there are probably no good views from the cage. You took the courage to look him in the eyes again only after he got dressed.

"And I look at a beautiful girl, what more could I want?"

You laugh loudly and honestly at this. He joins you, and the other mentors and the rest of the tributes look at you like you're crazy. You're too busy looking at the handsome man in front of you to notice Coryo giving him a dagger glare and clenching her fists in anger.

But Lucy Gray does it.

And she perfectly recognises jealousy in the eyes of others. Especially pure anger and the beginnings of forming a plan for revenge. After all, that's how she ended up here.

The day before reaping, Mayfair Lipp had a similar look in her eyes.

Which makes her come to the conclusion that maybe her mentor isn't as good a person as she initially assumed.

"Excuse me for a moment." Snow mutters to her as he walks towards the two of you, leaving her to the children who came to look at her dress.

You and Finnick chat casually about things completely unrelated to Games. Coriolanus notices that the boy from the district reached through the bars for your hand, showing you different lines on it, probably doing some trick or foretelling stupid things.

But what added fuel to Snow's anger was the fact that, in addition to the district's underdog daring to touch you, he also made your face blush. Something Coriolanus has never managed to do.

"Y/N." He says, interrupting the conversation between the two of you. Seeing that he is watching you, you move away from the boy, calming down his anger a little. "We have to get back to the Academy. We have another class soon."

"Oh. Yes." you say, the disappointment is very audible in your voice, which makes him even more angry and jealous.

Why on earth would this piece of trash from the district deserve your attention, or maybe even affection, when Coriolanus was standing right next to you?

"I'll be back again. If you need anything, I'll get it for you." You say, giving a soft smile to your tribute. Coryo almost growls in anger, knowing full well that this worm doesn't deserve your kindness.

"Everything's fine, angel. Don't worry too much." He replies with his charming smirk, making Coryo want to impale his head through the metal wires of his cage.

He wraps his hand around your waist and catches your gaze as he nods towards the exit of the zoo. Taking advantage of your moment of distraction as you watch Arachne torment her tribute, Coriolanus gives your tribute a cold look and squeezes your waist a little tighter. Odair looks at him impassively, but the slight tightening of his jaw tells Snow that the boy got the hint.

No matter how hard he tried, he would never be able to touch you like Coryo was doing right now.

Coryo shouldn't be concerned about a boy from the district, especially one who competed in the Hunger Games, but he couldn't just let that bastard flirt with HIS girl.

Your terrified gasp brings him out of his thoughts. He automatically places his hands on your shoulders, pulling you closer to him and looking around for whatever scared you. And she sees Arachne's tribute grab her by the neck and pull her towards her, holding a broken bottle in her other hand.

He feels you try to break free from his grip, but instead of letting you go and running towards Arachne and her tribute, he spins you around and presses your face into his chest just as Arachne's neck pierces the glass of the bottle.

He feels you tremble in his arms, hearing the screams and shots of the Peacekeepers, who open fire too late and kill the crazy girl from the district.

"You're safe. Nothing will happen to you. Not with me." He whispers to you as he feels your tears soak his shirt, and he falls even more in love with you, seeing you cry even for a bitch like Arachne.

He places a kiss on the top of your head and leads you out of the zoo and to your car. He glances briefly at Lucy Gray to make sure they didn't shoot her by accident. He angrily accepts that your tribute is also unharmed.

He feels a little better, though, when he sees how your tribute shoots a jealous, angry glare at him, holding you close to his chest. And Coriolanus can't help but wink arrogantly at him.

"Focus." You tell the tribute in front of you as you discuss plans to build the Arena with him. Finnick, however, prefers to play with the bracelet on your wrist.

"Rose quartz. You know you don't get things like that from just anyone?" He asks, examining the stone. You remove your wrist from his grasp and raise a questioning eyebrow at him.

"My friend gave me this."

"That creepy blonde? Adorable. If he took his eyes off you for more than 5 seconds."

You roll your eyes at him and turn your gaze away from him to glance at Coryo. He's talking to, or rather listening to, Lucy Gray as he stares blankly at the pen and paper in front of him. He senses your gaze and turns around. You give him a soft smile, and he nods at you and goes back to listening to his tribute.

"Coryo doesn't like being alone among people he doesn't trust or know. And after yesterday, he's… more caring. It's natural."

"And does this Coryo of yours often give you old bracelets with a stone symbolising love?" You frown, examining the bracelet he gave you for your 18th birthday.

"It belonged to his mother. He probably thought it was pretty and that's why he gave it to me. It does not mean anything." You explain to him, at which he just shakes his head in disbelief, apparently not trusting in the good intentions of your friend. You want to go back to discussing your arena survival plan with him, but he won't let you say a word.

"Hmm... if I hadn't been chosen in the reaping and we had met under different circumstances, and if I were rich, I would have given you a necklace with pearls and pieces of angelite."

"Why?" You ask curiously, hoping that once he says what he wants, you two will go back to discussing plans. But you wonder how the hell he knows the meaning of the stones.

"Pearls are a symbol of wisdom, calmness, integrity, and serenity. They also remind me of the ocean. How old fishermen told us stories about beautiful sirens who attracted them by singing."

"Like Lucy Gray?" You ask with a smirk, thinking he might like the female tribute.

"I was thinking of another beauty." He says his fingertips are brushing against yours as much as the cuffs on his wrists would allow.

You blush when he flirts with you. You can't say that it bothers you or that you are indifferent. After all, he was very handsome. You don't see Coryo frown, staring daggers at the place where your hands lightly brush against each other.

"What about angelite? Why it?"

"It's a kind of peaceful crystal. Some believe that it helps to bring a guardian angel closer to you. After being chosen in the reaping... I wasn't quite at peace. And then I looked at you, and somehow..." He pauses, staring at your hands. You grab his hands tight, making his sea-green eyes look back into yours in surprise at your sudden gesture.

"I promise I will do everything in my power to make you survive this. You don't have to trust me, but trust in this."

"Because you want the prize?" He asks suspiciously, and you shake your head with a slight chuckle. You're not surprised that he's distrustful. After all, most mentors had this in mind. The prize. Not a human life that was in their hands.

"Because I can't stand the thought of someone like you dying in the arena." You admit it. You unconsciously lean into each other as you stroke your fingers over the back of his hand, drawing little patterns on it.

"Someone like me? Underdog from the district?"

"A handsome man with a good heart. Do not look at me like this. I saw you sharing water and food with that sick little girl—Dill and the other one... Wovey I think? You are a good man, Finncik Odair." You say with confidence.

His eyes light up for a moment, and for the first time, you see his real, unforced, warm smile. He didn't play the charming boy. Not this time.

"I guess that makes two of us, angel. I saw someone giving her medicine last night and extra food. I doubt it was their mentors."

"I have no idea what you are talking about." You both laugh at your answer. And somehow you can't help but blush—the flutter in your stomach that's caused by the way he looks at you and that damn beautiful, genuine smile—that's nothing compared to his charming façade.

Someone's burning gaze focused on you, which you feel on your temple, makes you let go of the tribute's hand, embarrassed. You look around discreetly, noticing Coryo's cold gaze that makes you shiver. He's never looked at you like that... at least not in your direction. It takes you a few seconds to realise that his gaze isn't on you at all, but on the man sitting across from you.

"Can you get me a trident? And some nets?"

"Trident?" You ask distractedly, making a note of his request anyway.

"To the arena. To put on a show and collect more donations." You nod, your thoughts fully returning to Finnick. You tell yourself that you're making something up. After all, Coryo is just your friend.

"I'll see what I can do. You also need to think about what you will do on tomorrow's TV appearance." You remind him, writing down in your notebook the things you should provide him with before he goes on air. Maybe a suit? You're sure he'd look drop-dead handsome in it on stage.

"I have already got some idea. You'll probably like it." He replies with an arrogant smirk, causing you to giggle, which, for some strange reason, you're unable to hold back. His smirk widens.

"Y/N. Can I take you away for a moment?" Coryo's voice and the fact that he's right behind you surprise you. You didn't notice him sneaking up until he spoke. You wonder how many times he has managed to do this without your knowledge.

"Go, angel. I'll see you tomorrow at the arena." Finnick says, giving you another of his trademark smirks. You nod to him and accept Coryo's hand as he helps you up. He takes your bag from you, and you both walk out.

You go with him as his emotional support to Dr. Gaul's laboratory. He tells you enthusiastically about his new ideas for the Hunger Games and how the woman was interested in them, but you only half-listen, your thoughts still with Finnick. And Coriolanus doesn't like it that you so brazenly ignore what he says.

"You two are rather close." He says, getting your attention. You raise a questioning eyebrow at him, not understanding who he was talking about. "You and your tribute."

"We are. It's my job to take care of him."

"You do it rather willingly and with a smile on your face." He remarks with a strange tone of voice. You stop and frown at him, not understanding what his problem is.

"Are you suggesting something?"

"No. No. Not at all. I'm just warning you. People are talking."

"They always talk." You snap at him, furious that he's playing that card. He lectures you as if you were a little child and did something wrong. Besides, who cared? You could flirt with anyone you wanted.

"Y/N. He's just a district boy. I don't want your reputation to suffer just because… you see him as a human being."

"Are you serious? He IS a human being. Like each one of them." You say, angry at him for even saying such a thing.

"You sound like Sejanus." He says it coldly, giving you an unreadable look. You don't know what he's thinking, but you know by the way his jaw is set and his hand is nervously playing with the strap of his bag that it's not good. And you wonder. Because Sejan is your friend after all. And he was also a district boy.

"Maybe because he's right." You respond to his remark by crossing your arms and staring at him defiantly, tilting your chin slightly upward.

"Are you really going to let some district scumbag ruin your career and future? Everything you've worked for so far? They hate us, Y/N. Each one of them. Behind that charming smile of his, there is a devil who gossips about you and laughs at your naivety behind your back."

"They are not monsters, Coriolanus."

The use of his full name makes him flinch. You see it and immediately regret not using his diminutive, but that's okay. You were incredibly frustrated and angry that he thought the way Dr. Gaul and the rest of the rich snobs of Panem did. That he didn't see these people as... people. People like you were.

"They killed my father, and because of the rebellion 10 years ago, my mother and sister, whom I never got to know, are dead, and they might have been alive if those district rats hadn't turned the Capitol into a battlefield. You, Tigris, and my grandmother are all I have left. And I won't let anything happen to you or anyone take you away from me." He bursts out, keeping his voice cool, but you can clearly see the storm of emotions in his icy eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere, Coryo. The rebellion is over. We are safe. But they are not." You decide to back out of the argument with him.

"They don't deserve to be safe. Not after what they did to us, petal."

You don't say anything at his words. You just sigh and go to hug him.

He relaxes a little in your arms, wrapping himself around you just as tightly as you wrap around him. You are enveloped in his warmth and the delicate scent wafting from the rose he had pinned to his red jacket.

You know how Coryo suffered and how he sought an outlet for his pain. And you can't be surprised that he blamed the people of the district for his family's fate. That he hated them... but you didn't know how deep that hatred had grown inside him.

And how much it had grown the moment he found out from Lucy Gray that you had promised to make sure Odair won.

When he found out you chose that district boy above him in The Hunger Games, he fully understood what Dr. Gaul wanted him to say when she asked him about the meaning of the games.

Now he had to make sure that HE would become THE VICTOR. And not the underdog from 4 who tried to steal HIS woman.

"I hope I haven't caused you any trouble?" Finnick asks with that smile of his that makes you weak in the knees as you both walk around the arena.

You blush slightly, remembering last night.

"Here. Put this somewhere and change it when we get back from the arena. Then you two will be on TV." You tell him, handing him a bag of clothes through the bars. It is midnight. You shouldn't be here, and you might as well have given it to him in the morning, but... something pulled you to him. "If you are as charming as usual, you will win the hearts of the audience." You say, not knowing that he only cares about ONE heart.

"You're too good, angel. But I have something for you too." he says that and hands you a small bundle. You frown at him.

"I… I shouldn't…" You say, surprised, but he pushes the bundle into your hands anyway.

You look at him in a daze for a moment and unwrap the fabric. You gasp when you see the necklace. It is an ordinary black leather strap with a silver pendant with a fish that swallows its tail, thus creating a circle shape. There was a tiny pearl inside.

"If I were a rich man, I would give you something else... as a souvenir. But I'm not... but I really wanted for you to have something that will remind you of me. Please say something, or I might start talking nonsense that we'll both regret later and..."

You silence him by leaning in and kissing him through the bars. It's a gentle kiss, as tender as the tiny passage between the bars allows, but somehow he manages to grab your hand and cup your cheek carefully, brushing your skin with his thumb.

You feel tears welling up as you think about what it might have been like in another life, where there were no divisions into better and worse districts and the Hunger Games would never have existed... but this small moment stolen in the night between you two will have to be enough. That gentle brushing of your lips.

"No. Not at all. Do you already know what you're going to do on TV?" You ask, changing the subject, trying to keep from blushing as the two of you walk around the arena while you make mental notes of the best places to escape.

"Yes. I will recite a poem. Or, rather, a song. I will not compete with our dear Lucy Gray, and I will not sing. Want to hear?"

"Sure." You reply with a shrug, completely unprepared for what he had in store.

He clears his throat. He catches your eye and begins with a tone of voice so velvety and pleasant to the ear that it's impossible for you to perceive anything other than him. And certainly not the way your blonde friend was staring daggers at you with clenched fists, ignoring the scared look Lucy Gray was throwing his way.

"We gather stones, never knowing what they'll mean Some to throw, some to make a diamond ring You know I didn't want to have to haunt you But what a ghostly scene You wear the same jewels that I gave you As you bury me I didn't have it in myself to go with grace 'Cause when I'd fight, you used to tell me I was brave And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake? Cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet."

You shiver as he finishes. He was only a small step away from you as he inched closer with each line he spoke, never taking his eyes off you. You are speechless. All you can do is look him in the eyes, watching as he gently brushes away your hair from your eyes.

"It's... it's beautiful. Did you write it?" You ask, snapping out of your daze.

"No. No, I don't. I believe this is 'My tears richochet' by Taylor Swift."

"Taylor Swift?" You repeat it stupidly, swallowing and trying to calm your rapidly beating heart that aches with the desire to kiss him. You know you can't. Not in the light of day. Never in plain sight. And it hurt you that you wanted a man who could never be yours.

"In another life, I would be a London boy." You laugh with him about it. Suddenly he looks around seriously, and when he sees that Coriolanus is the only one watching you, he takes a step towards you and gently strokes your cheek with his thumb. "You're... I didn't expect anyone in the Capitol to have a heart. And certainly not as pure as yours, my sweet angel."

You shiver, unable to move away from him.

He leans down and steals you a quick but more passionate kiss than the first you two had shared under the cover of the night. His hand tangles in the hair at the back of your head as he opens your mouth with his tongue, swallowing your moan. Common sense screams at you to step away, but you can't. You cup his cheeks in your hands, pulling him closer to you, stealing another moment with him as he pushes you against a pillar, hiding you from anyone's view.

Before anyone can notice that you two have disappaired, there's a loud bang in the arena. You scream as you feel a warm gust of air make you fall onto your back. The combined scream of both Coryo and Finnick's calling your name and the pounding of your head is the last thing you hear and feel before you pass out.

Consciousness comes back to you very slowly. At first, you think you're dead, but the ringing in your ears and headache wouldn't be symptoms of a dead person on the other side.

That's why you open your eyes slowly and very reluctantly.

You hiss as the light from the hospital lamp hits your eyes. You cover them with your hand when suddenly you feel another one on yours.

"Everything's fine, petal. You are safe with me. Move slowly, take your time."

"Coryo?" You ask, pushing both your and his hands away from your eyes as you narrow them at him. You sigh with relief and hug the blonde, who is also in a hospital gown. You managed to notice a few scratches on his face before you cuddled up to him shakily.

"Shh... it's okay, my petal. Your parents were here. They waited through the entire surgery, and when the doctor told them you were stable, they went home to get clothes for you. They should be back here soon. Together with Tgiris and Sejanus."

"Surgery?" You ask in surprise, only now feeling the grip of the bandages on your head.

"They put a few stitches on your head. Fortunately, it wasn't as deep a wound as we thought it was. You scared me. And the others." He says, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he wraps his arms tighter around you... like a snake.

"The arena... Finnick. Is he alive? What happened? Where is Finnick?" You panicked, moving away from him and ignoring his more affectionate than usual gestures. All you can think about is a district boy that you have grown to... to love in these few days when you got a chance to know him.

You don't see the anger rising in Coriolanus's eyes, nor do you recognise his fake tone as he pretends to be concerned. You're more concerned, scared, and distraught that you don't feel the weight of Finnick's necklace around your neck.

"He is dead. I'm sorry for your tribute, my petal." He says, slowly stroking your bare arms.

From the side, it looked like he wanted to comfort you, but he was only doing it because he wanted to feel your skin under his fingertips. Enjoy his reward. As well as that snow lands on top.

"What?" You ask in shock, not feeling his touch at all. Your world stopped. As if it were dying. You don't feel anything. Nothing at all.

"There was an attack of rebels. He didn't survive." He repeats it more emphatically, watching you carefully.

"No... no..." You shake your head, feeling tears welling up in your eyes. Tears that you don't even try to hold back. Just as your whole body trembles.

"It's not your fault, honey. You did an excellent job as a mentor. It could have happened to anyone."

"You do not understand! This isn't about stupid games! This is about him! About human life! How can you be so selfish and myopic?!”

You shout angrily, slapping your hands against his chest. Your tears are blurring any vision; you're still weak from the surgery, so when you get tired, he pulls you into his arms and presses your head to his chest, rubbing your back as you cry into him.

Into a man who took the opportunity to get rid of the inconvenience of your tribute. Along with the necklace he gave you. Coriolanus was furious when he saw it on your neck as he carried you out after pushing Odair right into the spot where, a second later, a large piece of debris fell from the ceiling.

Once again, Coriolanus' perceptiveness worked to his advantage.

And now you were his. Only his. He made sure there were no traces of Finnick Odair left. After all, his First Lady couldn't be sullied by a district boy.

"Don't cry over him. We are all we need anyway, my little petal." He whispers against your skin as he kisses away your tears.

You're too busy mourning your tribute and too drugged to do anything. So he uses this to his advantage and fucks your face with kisses before finally leaning in to taste your lips.

He moans into your mouth, not caring about the slightly salty taste of your tears, and gently wraps his hand around your neck. You mumble something into his mouth, pressing your hand against his chest to push him away.

But he doesn't give up. He sits you on his lap and places kisses on your neck. You gasp, clinging to him. He rests his forehead against yours and kisses you once again. He lifts your hands and makes you tangle them in his hair. His other hand wraps around your waist, pulling you in until your chests are pressed together.

He ignores Lucy Gray's singing echoing through the private room in the hospital your parents bought for you to get better and holds you close to his chest, pressing tender kisses to your cheeks, lips, nose, forehead, and neck—everywhere his greedy, eager mouth can reach.

You can't move. Because of the drugs they drugged you with, so you can't feel pain, or because you don't want to move, you don't know yet. In some strange way, the feeling of closeness comforts you, and your stupid brain and heart try to trick you into thinking it's right. After all, Coryo saved you, and he always saved you. He was always there for you. Always close to you. Unconsciously, you start kissing him back. He moans contentedly, rubbing himself against you.

He refrains from doing anything more and pushes you off of him, keeping your head on his shoulder and his arms around you as he places small kisses on your temple and tenderly, occasionally reaching up to kiss your lips as the painkiller drip he unscrews a little makes you melt and surrender completely to him.

He holds you as you fall asleep in his arms, thinking about how he can make sure his songbird wins. He reduced her competition anyway by hastening Odair's death, but he must be sure that he wins Plinth's prize so he can finally claim you fully for himself. He wouldn't endure another district boy near you.

Coriolanus knew that hope was dangerous. Love was fatal and destructive if you didn't control the one you cared for. And jealousy... jealousy brought out people's primal, animal instincts.

Just like the Hunger Games.

He looks at your sleeping, peaceful form, and he presses a kiss on your lips. He smiles, seeing how cuddled up to him you were and how you were in need of his warmth and touch, of the security he provided and will always provide for you. You were worth every sin. His petal. His little angel. His future First Lady and mother of his children. He will adore you. You'd forget about this district underdog once he won; he was sure of it.

After all, he was the only victor Panem could have.

[eufezco]

❥ kissing them ⸺ coryo, peeta, sejanus, finnick

peacekeeper!coryo is not afraid of taking control. that scrawny boy who was your mentor no longer existed, his head was now shaved, his body had doubled in size and he held a peacekeeper position in your district. who would say huh? who would say that the last thing you'd do before leaving your district was gonna say goodbye to him.

"i'll go with you. meet me in the hanging tree. tomorrow morning." he said and pinched your chin with his fingers so you would look at him.

and so you did, you looked back at him with big eyes. coriolanus turned his head to check that no one was coming and then, with both of his hands holding your head still, he kissed you. his body pressed against yours and you had to take a few steps backward to avoid falling, crashing against the wall, and being trapped between it and corionlanus' body.

his lips were moving with such intensity as if he was trying to devour you, you could even feel your teeth clash. coriolanus squeezed your body even more with his and let out a few grunts straight from his chest when you kissed him back with the same intensity. but then he suddenly broke the kiss trying to catch his breath and looking down. "i'll see you tomorrow." and coriolanus left you there, with you breathing so heavily and having to squeeze your thighs.

mutt!peeta has forgotten what it's like to kiss someone. so one night when you were on watch and peeta couldn't sleep, you decided to go and sit next to him, ignoring the safe distance you were told to keep from him. he would ask you questions to which you would answer real or not to help clear up his confusion.

"we kissed. in the arena. before you shoot your arrow. real or not?"

"real."

peeta slowly nodded, feeling guilty and sorry for not remembering it. you remembered it all too well and you wanted him to do it too. once again ignoring all the security protocols they had prepared for peeta. you moved closer to him and caught his lips with yours. peeta didn't quite know what to do, but your lips felt good, the knot that had formed in his stomach told him. it felt so good that peeta was glad that that memory was no longer in his mind so he could live it for the first time again.

"i'm sorry," you mumbled when you parted ways but peeta shook his hands and went in for another kiss.

mentor!sejanus is desperate. his father had found him a good tribute to mentor but that person was from his own district. was that on purpose? his father always said that sejanus never truly left district 2. was he trying to punish him?

he left the academy room from which you were watching the reaping. he was sitting by your side and you could see the tight grip he had on his own uniform pants, nervous, before his tribute was announced. once the girl from the district you had been assigned was chosen, you walked out of the room after him.

he was mad, pacing back and forth around the hallway, talking to himself and waving his hands in indignation you got in his way and sejanus didn't seem to notice because he was so angry. you stopped him before he bumped into you, placing your hands on both of his cheeks and bringing your lips together. the boy's body seemed to release all the tension it had built up as he melted in your hands.

you broke away when everyone began to applaud for the end of the harvest. "any better?" you asked.

sejanus' cheeks grew hot, my god could you see them turning red? he let out all the air in his lungs and fixed his uniform. "yeah, i think so."

tribute!finnick is dying of nerves and all he can think about is your lips. his name had been picked again after five years. finnick didn't mind going back to the arena, he already won once and he had no doubt he would do it again, what hurt him was to be apart from you.

they let you see him before they took him to the capitol.

you threw yourself into his arms. finnick placed his hands on your cheeks and connected his lips with yours. you dug your fingers into his blonde locks of hair, pushing him as close to you as possible. his hands slid up and down your back, trying to hold you all in his arms. when he was starving in the arena he wanted to remember your lips. finnick's lips moved desperately against yours, knowing that this would be the last time he would have them for a long time. finnick wanted to remember their softness, how your saliva mixed, the way your teeth bit into his lower lip, the soft moans that escaped from your mouth due to the intensity of the kiss...

"and if i die in that arena, my last thought would be of your lips." you heard him say through your tv during his interview with caesar.

[bvidzsoo]

࿐ྂ The Games ࿐ྂ

࿐ྂ Synopsis: A dystopian future that is full of pain and anguish. A ruler who is merciless and rids of those who threaten his reign. A spark is all you need. A spark that will bring hope and salvage what's left of humanity.

° May the odds be ever in your favor. °

࿐ྂ Author: bvidzsoo

࿐ྂ Pairing: Ateez members x female reader

࿐ྂ Rating: mature, nc-17

࿐ྂ Genre: Hunger Games!au, violence, gore, angst with fluff

࿐ྂ Status: on-going ࿐ྂ

｡˚ ° ↷ 1. Song Mingi x female reader ↶ °｡˚

Haunted me, haunting you

╰┈➤ Summary: After the 72nd Hunger Games, Song Mingi wasn't the same. The spark in his eyes was gone, his once bright smile disappeared and his face became ashen, cheeks hollow, he was merely a shell of the man he once used to be. It hurt seeing him lose himself to the trauma he was forced to endure in the Arena, still haunted by memories...memories of killing someone you both cared about, someone who meant the world to you. Will you be able to help Mingi before it's too late? But most importantly, will Mingi be able to let you in when you bear the very same face he was forced to murder in the Arena in order to become a victor?

｡˚ ° ↷ 2. Choi San x female reader ↶ °｡˚

Your worst mistake...

╰┈➤ Summary: Your innocence was stripped the day you were reaped for the 73rd Hunger Games. The life you had known, and the joy of living well were all just forgotten aspirations. The Games were cruel and terrifying, and they changed anyone who emerged as a victor, who took the crown and returned to the living. And was all that pain, terror, and haunting memories worth it? Was it worth living a life as a monster? Perhaps, yes, it was, if a man was determined enough to show you what tenderness and love meant, that to him you had never changed. But that man was Choi San, a stylist from the Capitol, another gem adored by the masses, so, could he really love you?

｡˚ ° ↷ 3. Jeong Yunho x female reader ↶ °｡˚

Thousand Miles, just to get you back

╰┈➤ Summary: You didn't want this, but then again, you were sure nobody wanted to face the repercussions of being a victor. You hated your life and you hated everyone around you, never trusting a soul again. Whatever President Snow has put you through after your Games was unforgivable and your only solace lay in Finnick Odair, who understood you and your pain. But it didn't end there, no, it never would with Jeong Yunho, another victor, always breathing down your neck and hogging you as if his life depended on it. You didn't like him and you didn't trust him after what he'd done to you despite being your mentor in your Games. And when the 75th Hunger Games come around and President Snow announces that the tributes this year will be the reaped victors, your world comes crashing down, forcing you to do things you never thought you'd do again. But if it meant Panem would be free, you'd do it again.

｡˚ ° ↷ 4. Kim Hongjoong x female reader ↶ °｡˚

Cravin', I'm cravin', I crave you

╰┈➤ Summary: Being in love with your childhood best friend was hard, especially when your feelings weren't reciprocated. Kim Hongjoong, barely a few years older than you, certainly lived a better life. He was a well-known, sought-after, and praised stylist in the Capitol, his creations renovative after the Civil War the Districts unleashed on Panem, against the Capitol . And you, well, you were still studying at the Academy, trying to figure life out and become someone on your own and not due to your parents' wealth and importance. You figured Hongjoong would pay more attention to you when you had finally decided to become a fashion magazine editor, but, no, it only seemed like that drew him closer to Tigris, the person you hated the most. Will you allow her to steal the love of your life? No, never, only over your dead body.

A/N: I was never supposed to turn this into a mini-series of sorts, but alas, here we are! Since four of our boys are getting their own oneshot's, I decided to make a collective masterlist for them, and who knows, maybe I'll add more members to it if a good enough idea comes across my mind. Tbh, I don't exactly want to start a taglist for this mini-series, but I suppose if there's a high demand then I might just. I might change the summaries for San, Yunho, and Hongjoong since their stories aren't written yet and I was going off based on their plots, but I'll see. All of these titles were inspired by songs, and maybe you should listen to Tove Lo's Thousand Miles if you haven't before because that shit was my jam in high school and I nearly collapsed while listening to it again lmao. I have nothing else much to say, except that I might post San's part around Sunday, and if not, then at the start of next week, hopefully. If you're as big of a Hunger Games fan as I am, I hope you enjoy these stories and ignore some inaccuracies, thank uu! See u around <3 divider1 divider2

↳Perm. taglist: @orshii @jjoongstar @tinyelfperson @thestarskiller @zuuhaa

@aaa-sia @gong-fourz @a-tinycarat @sooberryworld @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad

@anastasiamin860 @yunhogrippers @vcutparis @tunaasan @blvckarabixnvoid

@yusalterego @arigakittyo @slowee00 @jaerisdiction @hey-syia

@vnessalau @oddracha @chatsgotmytongue @potatos-on-clouds @yunhowooyo

@watermelon2319 @yoongzsmile28 @klllerwaifu @apriecotte @hwasbbyg

@kyeos4ng @samiiy20 @woosanhobros @aswho1estuff @khjoongie98

@ateez-main-yapper @kang-ulzzang @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @ginger-mingi @redzie02

@unholywriters @autieofthevalley @roomsofangel @peachyy-joonie @baeksofty

@tunafishyfishylike @syubseokie @jycas @fandom-freak-geek @intaksfav

@itswaffleberry @e3ellie @skz1-4-3 @hoe4yunho @kyeomooniee

@winklehwa @eyesonlyformingi @khjssss @torieisawesome99 @amrose8

@faeriehwa @hongjoongsprincess @iceteainsummer @lac3ybow @aurorajoye

❀ complete the forms if you're interested! ^^

[phefics]

How do you think the hunger games boys would react to you pulling their hair during sex?

peeta isn't that into it, unless he's going down on you and your reaction is to tangle your fingers into his hair because you're in so much pleasure. he doesn't like being roughed up much, but if you're gentle and doing it for that reason, he finds it kinda hot.

gale likes it, but sees it as sort of submissive, and i picture him as like 100% dom, so he doesn't like it that much. like peeta, he likes when you tug his hair because your pleasure is so great, you have to ground yourself by grabbing his hair. he also likes it if you do it while making out, pulling his hair to tip his head back so you can kiss his jaw easier.

finnick isn't a huge fan, tbh!! like peeta, he doesn't like being too roughed up. he likes having his hair played with a lot, but prefers it to be a gentle touch. if you did tug on his hair in a spur-of-the-moment thing (like while cumming) he wouldn't be triggered or upset, but it just doesn't do anything for him. he would pull your hair, though, if you wanted him to.

coriolanus refuses to admit how hot he finds it. when he has his curls, he loves when you tug them, pulling him in for a fierce kiss by that white-blond hair, pulling his head back so you can get access to his sensitive neck, kissing and nipping along the skin. especially academy!coryo, aka what i consider his virgin era, it gets him hard instantly.

sejanus finds it really hot. he can be extremely dominant, but he likes when you switch it up sometimes, taking control and manhandling him a bit. he likes the small sting of your grip tangling in his curls,

[milliesfishes]

౨ৎMillie's Twelve Days of Christmas!꣑ৎ

Dec. 1st ꣑ৎ Silver Bells (Coriolanus doesn't understand why you want to decorate the tree yourself, but you insist)

Dec 2nd ꣑ৎ Evergreen (It's the first snowfall, and you and Billy make the most of it)

Dec 5th ꣑ৎ Stocking Stuffer (You and Alex determine who's naughty and who's nice)

Dec 9th ꣑ৎ Cookie Cutters (Learning gingerbread houses are harder than they look with modern Finnick)

Dec 12th ꣑ৎ Ice Dance (Caught in a blizzard with Coriolanus)

Dec 13th ꣑ৎ Mistletoe Kisses (Figuring out Christmas cards with Alex)

Dec 16th ꣑ৎ River (On the run with the love of your life, you try to convince yourself that Christmas doesn't matter this year. Billy has other plans)

Dec 17th ꣑ৎ Candy Cane Mocktails (The Academy's annual Christmas gala with Coriolanus)

Dec 19th ꣑ৎ Snowflakes and Sand Dollars (You and Finnick wake up to find snow on the beach)

Dec 22nd ꣑ৎ The Road Not Taken (Alex was your first real love and your first real heartbreak. So why have your parents invited him to their holiday party?)

Dec 24th ꣑ৎ Mittens (Ice-skating with modern Finnick)

Dec 25th ꣑ৎ Tied With a Ribbon (Christmas with Billy, Fish, and Willow)

[ilguna]

☼ between life and death pt1 (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; Finnick saves your life on the first day of the games, asking you to be his ally because he wants to keep his eye on the biggest threat in the arena.

warnings; swearing, fighting, blood mention, death, death mention, gore.

wc; 8.9k

part two.

–

The platform moves slowly to bring you to the surface of the arena. 

You tilt your head back, squinting through the darkness as your eyes adjust to the sudden light. You find large trees hanging overhead, blocking the sun. The further you come out of the ground, the more you’re able to see.

A strong breeze pushes the hair out of your face for you. The golden Cornucopia sits tall in the middle of this small meadow. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the Gamemakers put the tributes so close together before. This must’ve been their only option.

You shuffle on your metal plate to look behind you, being careful to not set off the explosive connected to it. You’re met with a thick forest, a smile creeps at the corner of your lips. You couldn’t have asked for anything better, this is exactly what you were hoping for.

This is less about the placement of the Cornucopia, and more about what surrounds it. In a forest like this, so tightly packed, it’ll be easy to lose someone in them. The bushes and tall grass clumped together at the base of the trees offer concealment for prying eyes. And with how small the meadow is, it makes for an easy escape for an intruder. 

Like you, for example. 

You would be with the Careers, only they didn’t want you in the alliance. It has something to do with your young age. You promised them that you’d be useful, but they were more worried about your maturity. They didn’t care about your score, they were focused on your ability to shut up and do what you’re told.

You aren’t interested in being bossed around. You’re not their errand girl. You tried to appeal to them by making your tribute partner tell them about your ranking back home in the academy, that you are the top of your class, all the way up to the seventeen year-olds. When they weren’t interested, you didn’t push your luck.

You don’t care that much about being with them. You’re pretty confident that you can win this by yourself. They’ll just have to watch their back. If you wanted, you could attack them one night. It doesn’t have to be today, it probably won’t even be in the next week, but when you’re ready, you could strike like a python, and be gone in the weeds.

They could get lost in these trees trying to find out. It can’t be that hard to get turned around.

“Ladies and gentlemen, let the Sixty-Fifth Hunger Games begin!”

With the announcement, you turn back to the Cornucopia. You have sixty seconds to figure out what you’re going to grab, and which direction you’re going to run in, after.

In the meadow, hidden in the flourishing grass and the bright flowers, are a number of items that could help you win. The further away from the mouth, the worse it is. Which means they don’t have any weapons out here. If you want them, you have to get in close, risk the danger of running across other tributes.

If you were anyone else, with a low rank in the academy and an even worse training score, you wouldn’t consider it. Your age alone is a death certificate here. However, you are neither weak nor unskilled. That’s why you’ll be joining them in the bloodbath.

What you want is a backpack, and a weapon you can actually use, at the very least. Swords are usually too heavy for you to use, but something similar, like a machete, will work. It’s not as thick, the Capitol doesn’t make them out of pure metal. Just the blade, and the handle.

The tributes that surround you, are what you’d consider nobodies. It’s further down the line, do the faces become vaguely important. The four other Careers are spread healthily apart, two of them being behind the Cornucopia all together. This means you only have two to worry about fighting.

If you’re quick enough, you won’t have to do that entirely.

You bounce on your toes slightly, moving side to side as you watch the time tick down. In ten seconds, the gong will sound and it’ll be a free for all. You have to remember that your goal is to get in and out with what you want. You’re not worried about getting kills under your belt, that can be done later on. 

You can feel your heart like a drum on the inside of your chest, as you take deep breaths to prepare yourself, leaning forward. You’ve got this. There’s no question about it. This is what you were trained for.

The exact second the gong sounds, you’re the first off of the platform. You sprint for the green backpack that’s leaned up against a box on the right. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see two other people that have the same idea as you. 

Unfortunately for them, you make it there first. In one fluid motion, you get your arm through the strap and fling it onto your back. You jump over the box, heading a few steps further in, swiping a knife and a machete. When you turn around to make your escape, you’re met face to face with your tribute partner.

You intentionally slam your shoulder into his stomach, a new tactic you learned to get taller people away from you. It works for those who aren’t expecting it, but he’s seen you do the trick a hundred times in the mock Games back home. He wrestles you to the ground, already pulling at the backpack.

“Damn it, Hunter!” You shout, “Get off!”

“I told you not to come here.” He tells you, as if you’re some child. “I told you we’d kill you.”

“You’re not doing anything.” You draw your knee up to put between you two, slashing at him with the knife. He dodges it, giving you more room to swing your leg up and kick him back.

You scramble to your feet, almost tripping in the process. You take a step to run, and he grabs the only foot on the ground, yanking it. You fall flat on your stomach, face screwing angrily.

That’s it.

You can hear him behind you, you squeeze the knife in your hand. You didn’t want to kill him, but if this is what he wants, then you insist. You push up to your knees, twisting around, blade out to make a wide cutting motion. He grabs your wrist, you spring up, swinging your arm under his armpit and behind his neck.

Once again, this takes you down to the grass. He manages to get the knife out of your hand in the process. You fall on top of him, hand in a fist, barreling down at his throat, never minding his face. He tries to catch you, but he misses. You land the punch, feeling the area cave.

He chokes, eyes wide. You jerk forward, grabbing the knife only a foot away. You pin his wrist down with your foot, drawing the knife back, and slamming it into his neck. Before you’ve even removed the blade, blood begins to pool in the area. You yank it out, search for your machete, which is closer than you thought it would be.

You retrieve it, glancing behind you to see that the other tributes are caught up in their own struggles to pay attention to what you’ve just done. With that, you turn to the forest behind the Cornucopia, running into the trees. 

The entirety of District Two just watched you murder the one person that’s supposed to be on your side. As well as every sponsor that had their bets placed on your older counterpart. And not to mention the academy, where you were trained and specifically told not to harm your tribute partner because it makes you seem aggressive and greedy.

There’s nothing you can do about it now.

When you think you’ve cleared the first mile, you set a slower pace for yourself to run, wanting to put as much distance as possible between you and the Cornucopia. When the bloodbath is done, the Careers will take an hour to collect themselves, and then they’ll set out to find whoever they can.

Or maybe they won’t, they’re down to three. If they had four, you’re sure they’d be more comfortable. With Hunter being dead, and them outcasting you and the boy from Four because of your ages, their abilities are limited. They’re not as big of a threat as they could be.

It might mean that they’d be willing to recruit new members. You’ve seen them do it in the past. You’re not sure they’d come crawling to your feet exactly, but you’d be an option because of your training. However, if they saw what you did to Hunter, you’re a different sort-of target.

They have so many people to worry about in here, that it could be days before they finally come after you.

That’s one of the perks of being fourteen, you suppose.

It’s hours later when the first cannon comes through, signaling the deaths from the bloodbath. It’s always baffled you how long the fights drag on there. It felt like you were there for only a couple minutes, and yet, it could’ve been up to thirty. Just you and Hunter wrestling on the ground.

You come to a stop, the muscles in your legs aching. You breathe deeply in through your nose, and out through your mouth. The cannons fire one at a time, with enough space in between for you to think. This year, it goes on until it reaches ten. One of those deaths is by your hands.

You swing the bag off of your shoulder, sliding behind a tree to crouch and dig through your goodies. You pull it out one at a time: a pack of crackers, a bag of dried meat, a small bottle of iodine, a firestarter, a plastic bottle with a cap for water, a decent amount of rope, and a thin sleeping bag.

You rest your elbows on your knees, biting your cheek while you stare at your new belongings. This is a very good start, almost too good to be true. You carefully place everything back into the bag, as well as the knife, because you have your machete to use if need be.

You zip it up, pulling it onto your bag. 

With miles put between you and the Careers, you feel comfortable enough to walk for the rest of the day. You continue straight, keeping an eye out for any other tributes that might have traveled in the same direction. It’s a waste of energy, though. These trees are placed tightly together, anyone could be hiding out here and you wouldn’t know until you’re practically on top of them.

You were hoping that the forest would thin out the further you go. You should’ve known better. When you get what you ask for, there’s always a catch that comes with it. You can’t complain, you’ll take whatever you can get.

You hum an upbeat tune from home, usually used to taunt others. Last night, when you were talking to Hunter about a possible secret alliance with him, he shot you down. He tried to tell you that you would die in here, and he wouldn’t be surprised if you were one of the first to go.

It’s funny how karma works, isn’t it? He’s the one that had to be airlifted out of the arena, not the girl that should’ve lost the fight. He’s the one getting his throat stitched to make him presentable for his family at home. He’s the one that’ll be lowered into the ground in a box in a couple days.

While that happens, you’ll still be kicking and fighting every second of the day.

The ground begins to slope upwards. At the bottom, you look up the hill, and see that the top isn’t that far away. It’ll give you a good vantage point, maybe you’ll be able to see over the trees you’ve been in for the past four hours.

You wipe the sweat from your forehead, watching it glisten on the side of your hand before rubbing it on the side of your pants. The hill becomes steep and irritating—the dirt is loose and you slip several times—but it’s worth it once you’ve reached the top.

Well, you had the right idea for the most part. Except, the way you just came is completely hidden by branches and leaves. You can’t even make out where the Cornucopia is, which is practically unheard of. No matter where a tribute is in the arena, the golden horn is almost always visible, or easy to find.

You’re not heartbroken over the Cornucopia, in fact, you forget about it the second you turn around and see the other side of the hill. There’s more trees, of course, but these woods aren’t densely populated, you can actually see what’s over here. And your eyes lock on the river that runs on the far side of the arena.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, squinting at the water. It’s far, if you had to guess, it’s somewhere around fifteen miles away. It’s going to be a long walk, one that you’re not entirely sure you can make today. If you ran, it could probably take less time, but you’ve got tonight to worry about, and all of tomorrow. 

If you tire yourself out today, you’ll be screwed. You shade your eyes, looking up to find where the sun is positioned. There’s a good six hours until sunset, you can spend half that time going in the direction of the river, and the other half finding a safe spot to sleep. That way, by the time the Fallen plays, you’ll be someplace safe.

With that plan in place, you begin down the hill, still humming to yourself. It’s lively on this side, it’s not nearly as quiet. The birds chirp to one another above you. The bushes will rustle each time a rabbit darts in and out. You won’t have to worry about hunting animals, at least. They’re keeping relatively close to the water source, which is good news.

The problem is that the other tributes, especially the Careers, will pick up on this. You weren’t planning on setting up a permanent camp anyway, but it’s definitely out of the question now. Once you get in close tomorrow, you’ll spend the rest of the day finding an area that looks boring enough to skip over searching.

It’s during this part of the walk, do you really begin to feel hot. You swing the bag off of your shoulder, unzipping your jacket and stuffing it into your bag. The relief is immediate, the breeze is able to properly caress your skin, cooling you down. The sunlight is still relentless. With these trees being further apart, shadows aren’t consistent. You walk in the shade as much as you can, and cross your fingers you won’t end up with a nasty sunburn.

The next two hours are easier, when you aren’t thinking about how you could go for a cold glass of water. One of the many treats that you were sure to appreciate in the tunnel before they brought you to the surface. She asked you what you wanted, it could be any food you could think of, and you asked for a glass of water.

Mostly for hydration, knowing that you’d be sweating it out in an hour, but also because it’s a habit of yours. No matter how hot or cold, indoors or outdoors, while you’re training, when your skin feels like it’s on fire, water is the one thing you ask above all.

You hope the stream is cold for you to enjoy. You’ll have to collect it, put the iodine in and wait. In that time, it could become warm, unless you let it rest in the river while it sanitizes. It won’t be perfectly cold. Beggars can’t be choosers, though. You know this.

By the third hour, you’re more than happy to start the journey of finding a place to sleep tonight. There’s a sufficient amount of sun to cover you while you wander, eyes searching the trees and nearby hills for any hiding spot to explore. You’re hoping for more than what the eye can see.

You come up with nothing.

So, you continue in the direction of the river, knowing that there’s another couple hours of daylight. If you can’t find anything in that time, that means you’ll be out here with the animals and the Careers, which is basically the same thing. If they find you, they’re not going to hesitate when it comes to tearing you apart. Regardless if they know you killed Hunter or not.

The trees get thicker, but you don’t stop and consider them. They need to be able to hold your bodyweight, and the branches aren’t ready for that. Besides, it would take one look up, and they’d be able to spot you. They need more foliage.

You stop humming when the sun sets, your cheery mood beginning to dampen. The light is gone, the night creatures are coming to life. You grip the machete in your hand a little tighter, telling yourself that you’ve got nothing to worry about. You’re prepared.

It isn’t until the Capitol anthem plays, do you stop to listen and watch the death recap. The Capitol seal is bright in the sky, you want to be able to see who’s dead, yet this opportunity to see is too good to pass up. You start walking again, stealing glances at the sky.

The first face to appear in the sky is Hunter, now every tribute knows that they’re down a Career member. It’s not normal for them to lose someone on the first day, this will tank their credit and plant seeds of doubt in people’s minds. They’ll be underestimated, just not enough for tributes to start attacking them.

If tributes have been paying attention, then they’d also realize that they’ve been a small group since the beginning. They casted you out almost immediately, you were left to study and show off on your own. It was a pain, but it worked out in the end, you managed to score a nine.

The next face to show up in the sky is the girl from Five, meaning that districts Three and Four survived. At home, you’d be able to see exactly how the tributes died, as well as what they placed because of it. The next morning, you’d have training at the academy, where they’d go over each death and you’d have to come up with a way to survive, and then reenact it with another student. 

As morbid as it sounds, it works.

Both of the tributes from Six are dead, Seven made it out. The boy from Eight, both from Nine, neither from Ten, both from Eleven and just the boy from Twelve. It’s a pretty average group, you’re not all that surprised. The Capitol seal appears again, with a musical flourish, and then it’s gone and you’re plunged back into darkness.

You sigh.

However, you’ve traveled faster than you thought, because it’s less than an hour later, do you hear the sound of rushing water. Your pace picks up, you break through the trees, finding a small path along the bank of the river. You can’t help the laugh that erupts from you.

This wasn’t the plan by any means, you can’t bring yourself to care, though. You pull the bag off of your shoulder, going to unzip it to grab the empty plastic bottle, when something slams into you. The machete is gone, landing a few feet away. 

You twist, swinging your fist before you’ve even seen who it is that’s taken you down. They catch your wrist, pinning it down at a painful angle, leaning over you. It’s a girl, her dark hair creates a curtain around the two of you. There’s a sickening grin on her face.

“Where’s your friends?” She asks.

She isn’t very perceptive, is she?

As much as you’d like to pretend they’re around, if you called for help, it could alert anyone in the area that you’re here. If she does end up injuring you, the last thing you’d want is for someone to come around and finish you off. You’ve got to do this quietly.

“Around.” You smile when you say the word. “What about you? Do you even have any?” 

This isn’t the girl from Twelve, she’s skinnier, you could flip her over in a second, same thing goes for Three. And the girl from Eight is blonde, which stuck out for you because they’re usually dark haired. This is the girl from Seven, it explains the strength she has to pin you down and the body mass. She’s not fat, it’s muscle.

Maybe taunting her isn’t the brightest idea, but you really can’t help it.

“Around.” She mocks you. 

You bite your tongue, wanting to say a number of nasty things to her. “Oh really, why isn’t he with you? It’s safer to pair together when you’ve scored so low.”

She ignores the job, “Why aren’t they with you?”

You narrow your eyes, is she really going to mock you? “Because we’re scouting the area. We all agreed to meet back at the river, it’s only a matter of time before they come around.”

“Right,” She says. “They’d let the little girl go off by herself? How old are you? Thirteen?”

“You don’t believe me?” You ask her, “Fine.”

You draw in a deep breath, opening your mouth to scream for help, when she clamps a hand around your throat, squeezing. It’s painful, but you can’t help the smirk on your face, fingers grazing the machete above you.

“Shut up.” She snarls.

You grasp the handle, and you’re about to swing it at her neck, when a splash of hot liquid hits your face. Her hand loosens, as she leans back, looking down. You follow her gaze, and find the head of a spear sticking out of her stomach.

Blood. It was blood that got on your face. 

You shove her off, now that you have company, you need to work quickly. You get to your feet, hand sweeping the backpack off the ground, and tossing it out if the way. When you turn around, you’re met with the other outcasted Career. 

The boy from Four.

He comes out of the darkness, heading right for the girl from Seven. You take a couple steps back, fixing the machete in your hand. He keeps his eyes on you as he reaches forward, grabbing the handle of the spear, and yanking it out of the girls back.

Like you said, you weren’t the only one to get pushed out of the elite circle. The two of you are the same age, both being too young to be invited. Although, it won’t put him as far behind as it has you; he’s got everyone wrapped around his finger. Whether or not he’s done it intentionally is a mystery that you don’t care to solve.

From the moment he was reaped, the Capitol has been buzzing over him. Half of the tributes wanted him as an ally, too. The issue is, the ones that matter don’t want him. The older Careers want to win, and they can’t do that if they have the potential of being dragged down.

You don’t think he cared very much, though. He didn’t pursue them in the same way that you did. Once his partner told him to get lost, he went his own way to train for the Games. He scored a nine, the same as you. He is far from being innocent.

“I think we should be allies.” He says, taking his eyes off of you long enough to stab Seven. A cannon booms.

“And why’s that?” You ask.

“You’re a threat,” He tilts his head with a smile. “How is it that you managed to score so high without showing anything useful? I want to keep my eyes on you.”

His reasoning is flawed. If you were him, you’d want yourself dead. It’s the only way to ensure that you stay alive. A tribute down means one more tribute that you don’t have to worry about later on down the line.

You can’t help but believe him. Why else would he go out of his way to save you? If he wanted, he could’ve killed you in the middle of this interaction at any time, and you wouldn’t have been able to do anything about it. 

The idea isn’t bad, either. You both have scored well, you won’t have to worry about carrying a bulk of the burdens, or protecting him against any tributes you run across. And he does have a lot of sponsors backing him up, which is a factor that you chose to ignore during training. You hate taking people for who they are at the surface or what they have on their side. You want to see their worth.

And this boy may be worth more than you think.

“Fine.” You tell him, his smile widens. “We aren’t friends.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He dips the spear into the river. “My name is Finnick.”

“(Y/n).” You tell him, lowering the machete, taking a few steps away to grab the backpack. 

“I found a cave.” He tells you, motioning up the stream, “A little ways from here. I was going to grab water, but I don’t have anything to carry it in.”

“I do.” You unzip the bag, tossing the plastic bottle at him. “Is the cave concealed?”

He catches it, “Yes, they won’t be finding us in there.”

This might work out.

—

“Let’s go over the plan one more time.” You say, tying your shoes. 

“Sure.” Finnick says, he’s standing by the entrance of the cave, weapon in hand. 

The spear lays discarded on the far side of the cave, no longer useful to him. He told you that you could have it, but you turned it down, preferring the machete. He upgraded from it sometime last week, when a sponsor sent him the trident he’s holding in his hand now.

You almost screamed when you saw it, because you’ve never seen a gift so expensive get sent into the Games. You’ve seen sponsors actively keep up with the tributes they have bets on, up until it’s too expensive. They always send small things, nothing that could ever add up to something as large as a trident.

What threw you more was how unaffected Finnick was by it. He didn’t seem to care, he even said something about the spear working just fine. You had to take a few deep breaths to calm yourself down, because you would’ve killed to get something half as good from a sponsor. And you were going to strangle him for being so ungrateful.

Yours have been sending food, which was greatly appreciated the first few times, but you’ve moved on from that. Hunting here isn’t nearly as big of a pain as you thought it would be. 

“We’re going to leave for the Cornucopia in an hour,” You begin, “When we get there, we’ll light a fire that they’ll be able to see. They’ll come after us, and we’ll split them. You want both of the tributes from One, and I’m supposed to take your district partner.”

“Yes.” Finnick says, “And when they’re dead, we’ll meet back at the Cornucopia to regroup, gather, and come back here.”

“You’re sure you can take two tributes at once?” You ask. “They’re older than us.”

“I’m going to net the boy and fight the girl. I told you, I’ve got this. Just worry about fighting Amaryllis.”

You make a face, “Is she really that bad? She doesn’t look like much and she scored an eight.”

“It was on purpose, remember?” Finnick sighs. “She doesn’t care about sponsors. If it were up to her, she would’ve scored lower. It’s part of her plan if she ever got reaped.”

You hum, letting him know that you’re listening. You’ve tried a couple times to get him to switch with you. You’d rather be the one to take the One tributes, even if that’ll be the most difficult task, but Finnick can’t stomach the idea of killing Amaryllis. It’s something about knowing her younger sister, and not wanting to cause problems.

When you told him that you were the one to kill Hunter, and it’s not that big of a deal, he shut you down. He told you that there’s a difference. You want to win at all costs, if that means tearing down everyone in your way, then so be it. For him, he’d rather die than lay a finger on her.

In a way, he called you heartless. He doesn’t realize that you didn’t go out of your way to kill Hunter. It was the only option you had. You weren’t going to try to escape the Cornucopia again, because you knew that Hunter would pursue you. You killed him because it had to be done. He would do the same if Amaryllis was the only thing standing between his life and his death.

“Right.” You say. 

Since agreeing to be his ally, you’ve come to learn a lot about Finnick. Some of it being out of your own curiosity, or maybe because he told you during a vulnerable moment. Other times, it’s because of the behavior you’ve picked up on.

You’ve started to trust Finnick’s judgement regarding situations, because of it. He pays close attention, finds details that you never would have thought about. A few nights ago, you two had hunted down the boy from Seven, because he’d been stomping around the area.

Finnick saw the cuts on his hands and arms, the way he’d been limping. Once you killed the boy, Finnick led you to a cliffside, one that you could only pass if you climbed it. You were sure that no one would be stupid enough, but Finnick was convinced. And he was right. For the first few feet up the cliff, it was normal. The further you look, there was dried blood smeared across the sharpest rocks.

You thought that would be the end of it, knowing where he’d come from, how he’d managed to hit his hands and arms. You’d assumed that Seven hurt his ankle from falling or jumping down. Either way, the area was safe again, and you wanted to go back to the cave.

This is when you found out that Finnick has little to no regard for his life. Despite seeing the injuries that Seven had gotten from this cliffside, he wanted to see if there was anything at the top that you two could have. You tried to tell him that it was a bad idea, and before you could stop him, he was starting up the wall.

In his defense, it wasn’t that bad of an idea. Seven had a sponsor gift or two, which Finnick tossed down to you at the bottom. It wasn’t the first time he’d pulled a stunt like that, you were surprised that he kept doing it, though.

Him wanting to take on both Career tributes from One makes sense, when you think about that. It’s more dangerous to take two tributes that genuinely scored ten, versus Amaryllis, who’s just by herself. You have to give him some credit too, he has the tools to be able to do it without batting an eye.

That net that he has is made out of the rope you’d gotten in your backpack from the Cornucopia. When you gave it to him, his face lit up, and the first thing he did was weave it. It’s proved useful so far, it’s how he was able to kill the boy from Ten and the girl from Three.

So, as much as you’d like to make Finnick switch with you, you can’t do it. You understand his feelings towards Amaryllis to a certain extent. And since he’ll be able to take out the One tributes the easiest, you have to let it go. After all, you do trust his judgement.

When the sun has finally set outside, you and Finnick gather your belongings and leave the cave. It’s well-hidden, no one seems to be interested in venturing this far away from the center, wanting to be able to raid the Cornucopia each time the Careers leave. 

As for you and Finnick, you haven’t gone back since the first day, and it’s been almost three weeks. There hasn’t been a need to, you both have the weapons you could ask for, and you have an endless supply of food coming from your sponsors. The only reason why you’re going now, is because the pool of tributes have narrowed.

The Careers are going to split up any day now, and it’ll be harder to keep track of where they are that way. This is why you started brainstorming ideas on how to kill them. You’ve gone through a lot of plans, many of which you never ended up telling Finnick, because they were dramatic and stupid. You want something straight-forward that’ll progress the Games without the Gamemakers interfering.

There’s eight tributes left in the arena. You and Finnick waited long enough to let the Capitol do their family interviews, because it’s a favored tradition. If everything goes according to plan, you’ll kill the rest of the Careers, leaving five. You and Finnick, and three nobodies that shouldn’t be too hard to find out.

You’re assuming that the two of you are either going to hunt down or wait for them to die on their own, but it’s never been discussed. Actually, neither of you have even talked about what happens when it comes down to the final few. You two are going to have to split eventually, and that means having to kill each other.

In fairness, you haven’t thought about it much, yourself. You’ve decided to focus on the present, getting over the hurdles before thinking about how it will end. It was a good choice to ally with Finnick, the problem is that you’ve come to like him a lot more than you intended to. You were supposed to strictly be allies, you weren’t supposed to end up making a friend out of him.

As bad as this sounds, that will not stop you. Finnick is not enough for you to give up your life. You have your family back home to take care of. Your reasons mean something, too.

Still, if you end up winning this, you’ll never forget about him.

The hill doesn’t take that long to reach. At the top, the two of you take a breather, you’ve got a long couple hours ahead of you. The Cornucopia isn’t visible in the daytime, but especially not now with how dark it is. 

You point in the general direction you’d come from the first day, which is slightly diagonal to the right. “It’s about three hours that way, I believe. What way did you say you took?”

Finnick motions to the left. “That way. I ran right into the woods for a while, and then I went left and kept in that direction. There’s a valley between the cliff and the hill, led me a mile or two from the river.”

You nod. “Let’s just go straight from here, the Cornucopia will be on our right side.”

Finnick leads the way down the hill, he offers his hand to you to help you down the first steep steps. When he lets go, you follow behind him wordlessly. From what you’ve discovered, Finnick was on the left side of the mouth of the Cornucopia, while you were directly facing it. There’s a good chance he saw you fighting Hunter, but you think he might’ve mentioned it if that were the case.

When you told him that you killed Hunter, it was a couple days later. He was asking you if you were upset from losing him, because you hadn’t said much since agreeing to be his ally. That’s when you said that you were the one that ended his life, and no, you weren’t upset over his death.

He was surprised, you thought it was because of the news you delivered. Now that you’re thinking about it, you think he might’ve meant if it was because you killed him, not the other way around.

There’s obviously been some miscommunication, you wonder if that changed the way he thought of you or not.

The night wears on you, the longer you walk for. You can’t help yawning, wiping underneath your eyes, trying to wake yourself up. You knew you’d regret suggesting to do this in the middle of the night. You can’t back out now, though. Even if you did stop to sleep and wait for tomorrow night, you wouldn’t be comfortable. You’re too close to the Careers for your liking.

You push through, and make it there an hour and a half later. You manage to spot the top of the golden horn through a patch in the trees. You and Finnick stop walking, realizing how close you’d gotten by accident.

“We’ll set a fire over there.” You tell him, looking to the left. 

You follow his steps, and once you’ve walked five minutes away, the two of you begin to snap branches and place them in a pile. When you’ve got a good amount started, you dig through your bag to find the firestarter. You thought it’d be useless, considering you never felt safe to use it. It’s coming in handy now.

You crouch down, looking up at Finnick. “I’ll try to take Amaryllis back to the Cornucopia.”

“And I’ll take them further this way.” He nods. “We’ve got this.”

“I hope so.” You say.

In a quick motion, you scrape the flint rod against the flat piece, watching as sparks jump off, straight at the wood. It takes you two more times before a flame has started. You blow gently, watching as it grows, eating away. You reach into your bag, pulling out your knife, and tightening the backpack on your shoulders.

Finnick offered to take it, you didn’t want to risk his life like that. Besides, you’ve grown attached to the bag, and it’s carrying valuables. He’ll end up ripping it while fighting. You’re just going to throw the damn thing out of reach to make it easier.

You get back to your feet, backing away from Finnick. He’s going to be the main bait, standing where the Careers can see them. You’ll throw the knife at Amaryllis, and she’ll turn her attention to you. You and Finnick will split, kill them, and then go back to the cave.

This is going to be easy.

The flame grows higher with each passing minute, until it reaches its peak. It’s right around the same time you hear the running, the sound of multiple people coming in your direction. You prop the machete up against the tree, fixing the knife in your hand.

Sure enough, they come through the trees wildly, not caring if they were to scare away the rogue tribute. They’ll just chase them down. The first person to bound out is the boy from One, holding a very long sword, deathly sharp. His counterpart follows, with Amaryllis coming out last, slowing down.

Finnick’s on the other side of the flame, net in one hand, trident in the other. From where you’re hidden, it looks like he holds all the power here. His age doesn’t matter. He’s the one that set the fire, he’s the one with the expensive weapon, he’s the one that will be taking them down. They mean nothing.

“What are you, stupid?” The boy sputters, sharing a laugh with the girl next to him. Amaryllis doesn’t find the humor, shaking her head. “This is why we didn’t let you join, you would’ve killed us.”

“I’m going to kill you, anyway.” Finnick says, expressionless.

“Oh—” The girl starts, Finnick turns sharply on his heel, taking off into the darkness. 

They jerk forward to chase after him. You draw your arm back and whip it forward, letting go of the knife. It slams into Amaryllis’ back right shoulder, she shouts, hand reaching for it as she turns.

You smile, swiping the machete at your side, and beginning to run to the Cornucopia. From what you could see, she didn’t have a weapon with her. An odd choice, maybe she left it by accident.

She chases you, that’s all that matters. She’s fast, too. You thought that the tributes from Four were supposed to be excellent swimmers, not runners, too. You manage to stay ahead of her, breaking through the trees and bushes as you reach the meadow. 

Just like you said you would, you swing the bag off of your body, throwing it out of the way, turning to face Amaryllis. She continues to barrel at you, disregarding the weapon in your hand. You swing upwards at her, she barely moves her body in time to avoid the blade.

You try for her stomach, but she pulls a knife out of her belt. Your blade clashes with her small one, and the momentum is enough to send your machete into the air. You let it go, punching her in the face with your left hand. The pain in your knuckles is immediate, her head snaps to the side.

You grab her wrist, wanting to get the knife. Her free hand locks around yours, you place your other hand on the back handle of the knife. The tip of your boot hooks around the back of her foot, and with one sudden pull on that foot, she falls back, pulling you on top of her.

The knife—which you were hoping would stab her on the landing—misses, sticking into the dirt, all the way down to the hilt. Amaryllis throws you off, you land on your back. As you’re getting back to your feet, you see the machete. You reach to grab it, and a slicing pain goes through your palm.

“Fuck!” You scream.

The knife is now lodged in your hand. You grip your wrist, squeezing tightly, teeth grit. What do you do? Do you take it out? You can’t just leave it in, can you? You look to Amaryllis, and find that she’s run off to go inside of the Cornucopia. Likely to find more weapons to puncture you with.

You can’t leave it. You’ll start bleeding, but you can’t let it slice your hand up entirely. You take a few quick breaths, and pull the knife out of your hand. It’s a blinding white pain, you fall back onto one of your knees, leaned over, tears forming in your eyes. When you look at the wound, you can see the dirt and grass sticking out of it.

You’re going to be sick.

The sound of wind whistling makes you hit the ground without thinking first. The sound fades, you look over your shoulder to see Amaryllis with a spear, tilting her head at you. You throw the knife back at her, sweeping up the machete in your left hand to head into the Cornucopia before she can retaliate.

“How old are you again?” She asks.

“I’m going to kill you.” You tell her.

“You must be Finnick’s age, if he trusts you so much.” She says. “He couldn’t kill me himself?”

“Shut up.” You tell her, swinging at the spear. She tries to block, you yank it from her hands, slashing at her side. You get her pretty nastily, it’s deep.

The two of you go back and forth, with her switching weapons frequently, and you trying to take her down with the machete. She gets you a few more times with the knives she can get her hands on, but her aim isn’t perfect. She misses most of the throws, and it has something to do with the fact that you got her good shoulder.

At home, they teach you to fight with both hands. District Four must not think it’s important.

You get her cornered in the back, and instead of saying anything to her, you simply swing at her throat. She must’ve anticipated this, because she charges forward, not caring about dodging. For a second, you think that she and Finnick must come from the same family tree with the blatant disregard for their lives.

And then the hidden knife in her hand slams into your stomach, right as you stab her through the throat. She pulls up on the weapon slightly, blood dripping out of the corner of her lip. You stumble back. She can’t move, the other end of your blade is stuck in the golden Cornucopia, still soft from the day’s heat.

You reach to touch the wound with your good hand needles jabbing into your abdomen when you move the knife by accident. You cry, face twisting in pain. You sit on a box. You shouldn’t take it out, but Finnick will be here soon to regroup, he can stitch you then. 

There were two cannons during your fight with Amaryllis, and they were far apart enough for you to think that it had to be the One tributes. He killed the girl, made it back to the male tribute almost ten minutes later, and then killed him, too. 

Removing this knife sets your body on fire. The black spots eat away at the corner of your vision, the knife slipping from your hand. You try to catch yourself on the wall, but your knees are jelly. The dizziness wins.

You wake up on the ground, somehow holding yourself up with your good hand. A cannon blasts, you glance over your shoulder to look at Amaryllis, and the bloody mess that you made. Her entire front half is soaked in blood. Her eyes are on you.

“(Y/n)!”

It’s Finnick, he’s close. You try to get up, and then fall back to your knees. You can’t let him see Amaryllis. It’ll be awful for his mentality. It’ll be better if you lie, and you think you might do that about the wound on your hand.

You rock forward, using a box to get to your feet. On the way out of the Cornucopia, you grab a new machete. You have your bad hand on your stomach, taking shallow breaths to keep it from hurting too bad. Your hand is throbbing. You aren’t going to be able to hide it from him.

When you get to your backpack, you unzip, bringing out your jacket to wear. While you’re zipping it up, Finnick comes out of the trees, trident in hand. He looks worried for a moment, but he slows down.

“(Y/n)! Did you do it?”

“Yeah.” You force a smile. “It’s done. What about you?”

“Both of them are dead. I left the net because I couldn’t untangle his body.”

“We’ll make a new one.” You wave him off, “Let’s get going.”

“Where’s her body?” He asks.

You press your lips together. “It’s inside of the Cornucopia. I don’t think you want to see it, Finnick. I tried to keep it clean but I couldn’t.”

He nods, “Okay.” he jerks his head to the side.

“You lead the way.” You tell him.

And with that, no question as to why you’ve got a hand beneath your jacket, or why it’s darkening in color, the two of you start back to the hill. For the first hour, you think that you can handle the pain, it hurts but as soon as you get to the cave, he can wash it out and properly assess it. You think you’ll even be able to use the healing cream that the sponsors sent him when he got hurt from the cliffside.

It grows increasingly obvious that you will not make the six hour walk. Finnick asks about your hand, and he stops to use some of the drinking water to rinse it out. You make up an excuse about getting cut, that’s why you decided to put the jacket on. He doesn’t seem to care.

Once you reach the hill, you try to ask him if you can go through the valley instead, not wanting to go up the hill because of the pain. He gives you a look, not taking you seriously. You follow behind him, taking your time because you think you can ignore the pain and push through.

At the top, you’re hit with a headrush.

You shudder on the ground, fingers squishing around in the bloody wound on your stomach. When you look down, you see that it’s begun to spread onto your pants, staining them the same maroon color.

“(Y/n)?” Finnick asks, “What’s the matter?”

“It’s nothing, I just gotta—” A sharp pain hits the area, you grunt, biting into your lip, hard.

“Let me see.” He tells you. You try to dodge his hands, but he’s serious. He grabs the zipper, yanking it down.

With the help of the moonlight, Finnick gets an eyeful of the wound you’ve hidden for the past three hours. Like a vampire, it’s taken over a liter of blood. At the sight of it all, the lightheadedness gets worse. You struggle not to vomit.

“Oh my god,” He looks at your face. “You told me it was a cut.”

You force a smile.

“(Y/n), this isn’t funny. Why didn’t you say anything at the Cornucopia?”

“I thought it’d be fine.” 

He looks behind him, in the direction you came. You’re sitting right in the middle of the six hours. No matter what way he goes, it’ll take him a while to get there.

“You thought this would be fine?” He asks you, shaking his head. “Are you kidding?”

“Does it look like I’m kidding?” You shoot back, a spasm of pain makes you take in a sharp breath, closing your eyes. “Just go, Finnick. Now’s the time.”

“The time for what? I’m not going anywhere.”

“We’re down to five.” You look at him. “We can split up. Or better, you can kill me.” You reach out, grabbing his arm, smearing blood on his tanned skin.

His face twists. “You want me to kill you?”

“This is what you wanted. This is the whole reason why you became my ally.”

Finnick’s shaking his head dramatically, “That’s not true. I lied to you, I thought you knew that.”

You close your eyes, trying to remember the conversation you had with him. It’s not coming to you. You can’t focus. “Whatever.”

“(Y/n), you were the only one in that gymnasium that ignored me. You didn’t care about my sponsors or how I looked.” He tells you.

“Then leave me.” You squeeze his arm. “If you can’t kill me, then go.”

“I can’t do that.”

You sigh.

“Can’t you see? You’re the only one I trust here.” Finnick tells you. “You had plenty of opportunities to kill me. And you stayed with me instead. I can’t do this without you.”

He’s not going to listen. You swallow thickly, “Fine.”

“Okay,” He tries to pull away, but you don’t let go. “Let go so I can get you on your feet.”

“I can’t make that walk, and you’re not going to be able to carry me.” You say. “So, go get some water and the healing cream. I’ll stay here.”

Finnick’s eyebrows draw in. “That’s not happening.”

“What’s your big plan, then?” You snap, “Listen to me, I can’t move. Just go, I’ll stay here. We have no one to worry about.”

He stares at you, thinking about it himself. “I’ll leave you my shirt and jacket, and you can put it over the area. That’ll help slow the blood, right?”

“Right.” You agree.

He takes off the jacket and his shirt, coming to place them beneath yours. You place a hand on top of the lump of clothing.

“I’m going to be quick.” He tells you. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be here.” You murmur. “Thank you, Finnick.”

“Don’t thank me, not yet.” He grabs his trident. “Just hold on, okay?”

You can’t say anything else, because he’s already started running down the hill. You close your eyes, resting the back of your head on the backpack. He didn’t grab the plastic bottle for water. He probably won’t even notice.

You reach up your shirt, pulling the clothes out, letting them fall next to you. In the academy, they teach you many things, including when to come to terms with the fact that you’re not going to make it out of the arena alive. In special occasions like this, where you’ve escaped a fight or accidentally severely injured yourself, you can have hope at the beginning, but too much can kill you.

This is why you don’t hold on to your life.

You let it get taken from you, one aspect at a time. The idea of winning the Games, seeing your family again, becoming an infamous victor. The hardest one to let go is Finnick, who’s running for his life to make it to that cave in time before you drift away.

You hold onto one idea, which comforts you during your last breaths.

Your actions tonight will be the reason why Finnick wins the Hunger Games.

[thedelicatearcher]

finnick odair alphabet fluff

h - hugs

finnick odair finds peace in holding you in his arms. his heart swells with quiet joy whenever his arms are tightly wrapped around you, with his face nestled against your hair as he breathes in the familiar scent of you. with his arms wrapped around your torso, he savors the closeness of your warm body pressed against his, a rush of excitement running through his veins. finnick has always thought of you as his safe space, there’s nowhere else he feels more at peace than in your embrace. though the self-deprecating thoughts are always roaming through his mind, it’s with you that his mind grows a little quieter. 

as the next hunger games looms closer, knowing he will be forced to return to the capitol for weeks, he needs you. anxiety takes over his mind as the days go by, and he spends the days previous to the reaping battling the overwhelming urge to run away with you. 

finnick knows deep down that any attempt to leave district four in search for a better life anywhere else, even hiding and trying to live in the isolated woods, would only lead to ruin. yet, he can’t stop daydreaming about it. a quiet life far away from the capitol, finding an old abandoned cabin in the forest that it might have belonged to a rebel many years ago. he pictures a life where his only concerns would be hunting to put food on the table and keeping you safe. he dreams of how your lips would be the only ones to love on his skin, how his mind would probably be quiet if the gentle, serene sound of a river nearby joined him in his everyday, where the two of you could bathe. 

finnick has to force himself to stay grounded. he tries to be realistic and think about the harsh reality of what would happen if the capitol ever found you. he knows they would tear you apart, separating you from him, leaving him to endure months of not knowing if you’re safe, if they’re hurting you, or even if you’re still alive. he would move through each day like a lifeless shell, carrying the weight of your absence. but he can't bring himself to think about the worst scenario. tears well up in his eyes at the mere thought of them torturing you to hurt him. he accidentally spirals into panic at the idea of them cutting out your tongue, and turning you into his personal avox. a torture designed to make the strongest one crumble. that’s the only thing that keeps him from running away with you.

so, you spend the entire month before the games taking care of him. you hold him close while you lie together on the couch, whispering soothing words in his ear meant only for him. as his shaking figure clings to you with his life, your arms get tighter around him. your heart aches for him, wishing you could ease his pain, though you know it’s beyond your power. you discover that gently rubbing his back while sharing stories from your life helps him relax. his weary eyes brighten and he chuckles softly as he hears you describing how you got denied entrance to the career training academy after accidentally falling on top of one of the men in charge at the auditions. you never voice a single complaint about the weeks leading up to the games, when he needs to sleep draped over you for comfort. your fingers caress his sun-kissed cheek as the room fills with his soft  snores, ignoring the numbness in your arm pinned beneath his body.

on the day of the reaping, you wait for him at the train station, staying out of sight of the cameras that are trying to capture the tributes fearful or, on the other end of the spectrum, arrogant expressions. when he arrives, he greets you with a hug before you can finish registering in your mind that it’s him. “honey,” his shaky voice captures your ears. even though he is taller than you, he leans down to be completely enveloped by your arms like a cocoon. finnick immediately begins to ramble about his concerns for the tributes, worried that one of them might actually have a chance to win. he buries his face in your neck, seeking for your sweet scent to calm him down. when the train speaker announces that departure is imminent, he holds you tighter. out of habit, you cup his face in your hands and rest your forehead against his as you always do in private. “i’ve got you, honey. just come back to me,” you whisper softly, wishing you could go with him. “i love you so much,” he breathes out in reply, his hands tightening around you as if reluctant to let go. “don’t take any risks while i’m gone,” he rambles, anxious about what could happen in his absence.you let him give you his instructions, even though most of them are obvious, knowing he won’t be at ease until he’s said them all. finally, he pulls away, giving you a soft but desperate kiss before boarding the train. your only wish is for him to come back to your arms.