#but also like. . . the hunger games does not talk enough about the victor

[cripplemagics]

❛ take off your clothes. ❜ / from kaz !

Kaz's dominance shocks Jay into silence. They admire it, wholly turned on by the spontaneity. "Yes sir," they murmur. Standing, presenting their still clothed body to him, Jay breathes deep before plunging into the act. One hand undoes the collar of their shirt. The other tugs the hem up over their head. They reveal scars from gashes and burns. Places where recovery required skin grafts and gross stitches. All of it scattered across their body, but never defining them.

Where they'd hide themself from most people they stay open to Kaz. He understands what a select few will ever know: A victor's body is a battlefield and a shrine to their survival. Therefore Jay is comfortable stripping for him. Once their clothes lay in a pile on the floor, they look over themself, taking in the beauty of it all for once.

". . . Hm. Your stare's making me blush. Am I gonna be the only one like this tonight? Or are you joining me?"

[the-sun-and-the-sea]

Odesta Week Day 4: Throwback Thursday

Annie is almost fourteen years old, and that is a very important age to be. Yes, there’s the ‘you’re growing up’ speech that her parents foisted onto her last year, but that’s not what she means. She’s talking about something even more important than that.

From the ages of twelve to fifteen, students are leaving District Four’s training facility in droves. That’s because this is where things start to get serious. A lot of parents pull their kids out before they reach sixteen, so they never live and train at the Academy full time. But the teachers are also cutting people from the program; anyone who can’t run or fight or survive is gone.

That won’t happen to Annie.

She’ll be sixteen soon enough, and then it will be her turn to live at the Academy. It will be her turn to become a Senior and eventually be selected as the volunteer. Her Games will be the 70th, the first of a new decade. She got really lucky in that way.

She’s just gotten out of a weapons class, but she needs somewhere quiet to study. Although the Academy doesn’t require as much studying as regular school, they’re still expected to know the most common causes of death and what weapons are most frequent at the Cornucopia. Annie finds her way to an isolated hallway, grinning as the sunlight that beams through the big windows hits her skin.

It’s only after she walks a little further that she realizes she isn’t alone.

He’s sitting on a bench, slumped against the wall, oddly still. The sunlight seems to illuminate him from the inside out. When he looks at her, his eyes are so vividly green that her breath catches.

Finnick Odair. In case that wasn’t clear enough from the description of his eyes.

Annie almost apologizes and walks away. Victors are supposed to be treated with the utmost respect, but Finnick Odair is only a year older than her, so it feels weird to treat him like any sort of authority.

“Mind if I sit?” she asks, faux casual. Hopefully she’s not overstepping. She’s pretty sure Finnick Odair doesn’t even know her name.

“Sure,” is all he says.

Annie joins him on the bench gingerly, pulling out her notebook that’s filled to the brim with her careful handwriting. This notebook has everything from arena strategy to fighting stances to different tactics for the Flickerman interview. Finnick peers over her shoulder, and Annie pretends she doesn’t care.

“I guess you don’t need this stuff anymore,” she says conversationally. There’s a hidden question in there too; what are you doing here? He must pick up on it because he huffs a laugh.

“I spent a lot of time here,” he says. “I used to come here when I needed to think.”

Annie feels heat rise in her cheeks. She’d never admit it because the last thing she wants to do is look stupid in front of Finnick Odair, but she does the same thing. “What are you thinking about now?”

“Are you going to volunteer?” Finnick asks, promptly changing the subject. It’s not a smooth transition at all, but she supposes that since he won the Hunger Games, some brusqueness can be excused.

She folds her notebook proudly in her lap. “Of course.”

He gives a vague hum of acknowledgement, and Annie can’t tell if it’s approving or disappointed.

“Do you have any advice?” she asks after a beat of silence.

“No,” says Finnick softly. “I thought I did. But I don’t.”

She gets the feeling that they’re not talking about the Games anymore. The only problem is that she doesn’t actually know what they are talking about. “Well, that’s okay. You’re only fourteen. You can take your time, right?”

He laughs. “I guess I have all the time in the world now.”

What that must feel like, to have achieved your life goal at fourteen. Annie can’t even imagine. She’ll be eighteen by the time she wins, practically an adult. It all feels so far away. “What are you going to do with it?”

He actually smiles now, and it’s genuine enough that his eyes brighten. “Eat all the saltwater taffy I can find.”

“Lucky,” she says. She’s actually salivating. The Academy doesn’t really do sugar; the closest thing she’s had to real dessert since she turned twelve is protein cookies, which are definitely more protein than cookie. “When I win, I’m going to have so many muffins.”

“What kind of muffins?”

“Chocolate. Obviously.”

Finnick hums. “Solid choice. You don’t have to win to have muffins, though. They have them in the Capitol.”

“It’s not the same,” Annie says immediately. Victory muffins will just be different. She watches the swatches of sun on the ground until they start to swim in her vision and she has to look away. “What’s the Capitol like?”

“It’s cool,” he says with a shrug.

When he doesn’t elaborate, Annie asks, “That’s it?”

“I don’t know. It’s weird. The people dress like they’re in costumes all the time. And they sound weird when they talk.” His eyes meet hers guiltily. “Don’t tell anyone I said that.”

“I won’t,” she says solemnly.

“It’s not too late to drop out of the Academy,” he says, and Annie’s caught so off guard by the sudden change in topic that she almost drops her notebook.

“What? I’m not dropping out. I’m going to—”

“Win the Games, yeah,” Finnick finishes. He’s not looking at her anymore, but his eyes have taken on a glassy look. “Just try to think about if that’s really what you want.”

What is he even talking about? “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“I was reaped,” he reminds her.

“I know,” Annie replies, because she’s watched the reapings of every living victor enough times to memorize them. “But you trained here before that. You must have wanted it a little.”

Finnick shrugs. “I guess. I don’t really remember, honestly. Everything feels different now.”

It would, after an experience like the Hunger Games.

Annie stands up, sliding her notebook back into her bag. “I hope you figure it out,” she offers. “Whatever it is you’re thinking about.”

His eyes gleam in the sun as he looks up at her. “Thanks, Annie.”

[tumblingghosts]

Omg Hello!! I love your post about time traveling Katniss and Sejanus meeting and becoming friends immediately and how Sej wants to bring his new friend to his school 😭🥹

And the way Katniss doesn’t take Snow’s hand when they meet because she’s like ‘there’s no way this sweet boy is ‘friends’ with PRESIDENT SNOW ‘😭

Do you have any headcanons about their friendship and how Katniss navigates the Academy life.

re: katniss in tbosas times snippet

hello! admittedly i didn't have much more about that au when i wrote it so it took a while to answer this but-

i. katniss's arrival

i like to think that she got sent back in time sometime before the second quarter quell- i think she would be way too worried about peeta to be this if she was returning from mockingjay times. katniss is pretty lost because she doesn't recognize the capitol (not extravagant enough, people aren't dressed in the odd fashions that make up most of the capitol population in her time), but this is also after the victory tour, so she knows it's not any of the districts. she's hesitant to approach anyone because, even though she doesn't know where she is, she knows that (with the travel ban) she could get into serious trouble for not being in d12.

ii. meeting sejanus

sejanus runs into her on accident and immediately clocks her as district. he's both curious about that and delighted bc he's been facing ostracization from pretty much everyone for years. this is probably where katniss finds out she's in the capitol & is very confused about it, at which point sejanus invites her to the plinth apartment bc he realizes something is off here and it would be best to take the conversation somewhere more private. katniss is hesitant to trust, but also she doesn't have many other options, so she goes.

ma plinth is happy that sejanus brought home a friend and katniss is taken in by her kindness. whether katniss actually spills about the time travel or not is up to debate- in this case, i would probably say she does, but not on purpose. it's more like "if this is the capitol, do you just not watch the games?" (in reference to her notoriety as a victor) and sejanus (misunderstanding her question as pro-games) voices his staunch opposition to the hunger games. he probably makes mention of president ravinstill and dr gaul somewhere in there, and while katniss learns that snow is yet to be president, she doesn't know his age, so she's under the impression that he's some lower-level politician at the moment or something.

anyway, after they get it clarified that no, katniss is against the games too, and in fact she's a victor, sejanus gets confused. he's never actually watched the games, but he's pretty sure that there would have been some talk if d12 had a victor, much less two. it's somewhere between "seneca crane" and "74th hunger games" that things start to click- and after a conversation of "oh you're from the future what to do from here", it would be safest if she could just be integrated as "new student" for now.

[insert hand-wavey process of sejanus somehow convincing strabo to get the paperwork for katniss pushed through- in a more realistic scenario, it would not be nearly that easy for katniss to be enrolled in the academy but shhh…]

it's the summer before senior year, so katniss pretty much stays over at the plinth's house until the school year starts. sejanus isn't exactly going out to meet up with anyone, so there's a lot of time for friendship and bonding in which they trade stories- katniss talks about peeta and prim, sejanus talks about "coryo" and some traditions from d2 that he left was forced to leave behind + some discussion to figure out how she got here and how to get her back to her time and her loved ones.

iii. academy life

so right off the bat, the academy students are not too welcoming of katniss. she's not part of the old guard or any capitol family they know, and her obvious friendship with sejanus doesn't help either. she doesn't explicitly say that she's from the districts or from d12, but her accent and demeanor make it clear that she's not capitol. sejanus has been in the capitol for nearly a decade so while he's pretty open about his stance, he's countering his classmates verbally. katniss is not keeping things verbal (she may or may not punch arachne in the face when she's confronted).

about her friendship with sejanus- katniss does attempt to get along with coriolanus for sejanus's sake, but she picks up pretty quickly that coriolanus is talking bad about sejanus behind his back and gets really upset about it. the only reason she doesn't physically attack him then is because of the backlash that sejanus had to face after what happened with arachne. she does end up telling sejanus about it, who is disheartened, but not overly surprised (i think, on some level, he knew that coriolanus's kindness towards him was limited, but ignored it because he was really lonely).

ultimately, sejanus probably avoids a confrontation with coriolanus over what katniss had told him. he's not averse to confrontation (re: consistently standing up to gaul in tbosas), but he does have an actual friend now, so he ends up sticking to katniss and just going on with life (even if he does miss coriolanus). without sejanus making an active effort to talk to coriolanus, they start to drift apart. coriolanus likely gets really jealous about it in a "why am i not the most important person in sejanus's life, who does this girl think she is" kind of way. (could be read as snowjanus or just coriolanus getting his pride hurt bc he was so accustomed to being "sejanus's only friend")

also, katniss finding out that dean highbottom was the creator of the hunger games- she's furious. seeing the person who "created the games" going around drunk on morphling? it's an intensified reaction to seeing haymitch drunk and uncaring that she and peeta were going to die in the arena when he was supposed to be mentoring them. there's probably a lot of shouting and "hypothetical" mentions of the games going on for decades more and how many more children would be dead because of him. sejanus is holding katniss back from actually mauling him in a "no...stop... (i completely agree with everything you're saying) ...don't hurt him... (it would be deserved tho) ..." highbottom is already drowning in guilt and tries to protest, but his words fall flat. (given his guilt, highbottom doesn't report katniss bc he does agree with her words- they're the regrets that have been plaguing him for years now- and highbottom being confronted like that may push his guilt enough to actually take some steps to push back against gaul. i doubt there would be any immediate impact in stopping the games though.)

given that katniss gets attached to kind people ("kind people have a way of working their way inside me and rooting there."), i would say that she gets incredibly protective of him when any of the other academy students talk down to him. i also have this mental image of them baking bread together, and katniss gets sad because it reminds her of peeta, and then getting comforted. katniss shares a story about him and the bread, and sejanus shares one about marcus and the snow on the windowstill- they're both kind of grieving in a way, even though peeta and marcus are alive, they're out of reach.

also, katniss and snow would have so much beef- coriolanus is coping and seething over her friendship with sejanus while trying so hard to maintain a calm facade & trying to figure out who she is and where she came from. katniss, upon becoming aware that her very existence is causing him strife, takes great pleasure in riling him up- it doesn't take much, he gets so mad seeing them literally just having a conversation and is doing so many mental gymnastics to convince himself that he doesn't care about sejanus (it’s not working).

thanks for the ask! :D

[dumbass-tumbler-cryptid]

I can see Spider being taken to the Capitol and tortured like Peeta was in Hunger Games 3, it reminds me of Spider being interrogated by Ardmore.

Hey everybody remember the Hunger Games Au i wrote up back in November? I needed to watch the final movie but then I got bronchitis (that took me two months to recover from) and it was also Christmas at the time and I really didn't feel like watching the child murder movies. But I never forgot about this and I finally got around to watching the final movie! So without further ado let's wrap this up.

To the question of what Spider and Kiri would have shown off in individual training, I feel like Kiri would have purposely tanked her's just for fun not even for strategy. She'd see the whole thing as stupid plus she knows her abilities so she's got nothing to prove. the gamemakers though can see what shes doing and give her a 9 to make her more of a target. I can see Spider pulling a Katniss and shooting an arrow right at the gamemakers to make them pay attention then bowing out. Quaritch is only half pissed at him. The other part is so proud. He's even more proud when Spider is awarded an 11.

In interviews they're both just kinda dicks lol. Spider taunts the whole crowd, talks mad shit on Snow, and heckles the fuck out of Flickerman. Kiri is similar just way more sarcastic and petty. So Snow was definitely super pissed when these two won the game.

Moving on to the ending.

I've tossed around a lot of idea's in my head for who gets captured and I had almost settled on it being Neytiri, Ronal and Paz, but that was mainly because I didn't want to hurt any of the kids especially Spider (I hurt that kid enough in Cabin and all I want is good things for him. I really dont want to hurt the moms either or anybody for that matter but this is a Hunger Games au) And yeah it does match actual Avatar canon to have Spider be one of the ones captured so that's what happens. Neytiri and Aonung are also captured.

The families are all incredibly distraught. Paz has a full on meltdown the moment she wakes up in recovery and is told the terrible news. It's her worst nightmare come to life and she completely blames herself for it. Quaritch, who's already inwardly losing his shit over his son but trying to keep it together, internally breaks seeing his wife like that because he's never seen her break before. After Paz is sedated Quaritch goes off to be alone. Spider's capture cases a real strain on their relationship because neither knows how to comfort or emotionally support the other. Paz is so guilt ridden that she doesn't want to be anywhere near her husband feeling intense shame when ever he looks at her. Quaritch doesn't blame her for Spider's capture. He blames himself for not volunteering in his son's place the day of the reaping. the only thing they can manage to do together is plan on saving their son.

Ronal also blames herself for her son's capture but she buries it deep under a wildfire determination to get him back. Tonowari of course wants Aonung back too and is just as determined, he just advocates that they be calm and level headed about their recuse so that they don't lose anyone else.

Jake hasn't felt this powerless in years. He wants to storm the Capital single handed to get his wife back but no one will let him leave. They all look down on him for being in a wheelchair and forget that he was a victor in the Hunger Games once. That he trained his children to be warriors while being paralyzed. But no matter how much he advocates for himself it just falls on the deaf ears of district 13's president. Who i decided is not Grace but General Ardmore.

Ardmore rules over district 13 in a strict but seemingly fair manner. And she is a pretty good leader. She's just extremely power hunger. I'm going to say Ian Garvin is the Heavensbee of this au. He sees right through Ardmore but he does need her to win the war. It's him that convinces her to let Jake, Ronal, Tonowari, Quaritch and Paz into her war room. Jake impresses her with his war strategies ( Don't worry Jake doesn't come up with Gale's plan. That's all Ardmore) and quickly becomes the lead strategist of her army. Tonowari and Quaritch are on the frontlines. They try to convince Ronal and Paz to stay back but Paz brushes them off with a bitter, "I have nothing left to lose," and Ronal snaps, "i will fight!"

The Capital starts airing interviews with their clearly brainwashed hostages. Paz's shriek silences the entire cafetiere when she sees her son on the t.v. His wild mane of curls now fall neatly around his chin, brushed out of his face like a perfect little gentleman. It shows off how sunken his cheeks have gotten. how hollow and dead his eyes looks. His once tan skin is now pale, made to look even paler by the snow white suite they've dressed him to hide his thin frame. "what would you like to say to your friends and family right now Spider?" "Kiri? Mama? Dad?," Quaritch is trying to hold Paz up as she openly sobs for her child for all of district 13 to see, "please stop. This isn't you. Your good people that would never betray the country. Just stop fighting and come home please."

Aonung get's the exact same treatment dresses up and paraded around on t.v like the Capital's little pet, begging his mom and dad to surrender. Ronal cracked a tooth from clenching her jaw so hard in rage and Tonowari put a hole in the wall when no one was looking.

Neytiri is also brought out, her braids are taken out, hair straightened within an inch of its life. she's dressed in a tasteful white cocktail dress, with a white rose tucked behind her right ear. when she's asked "what would you like to say to your husband right now." She says, "my Jake," there's a long pause, a whole war going on behind her amber eyes before she finally chokes out, "end them." the broadcast instantly cuts off.

And the kids in all this? Since I don't really have a mockingjay singled out among the bunch, I'm gonna say they're all kinda the mockingjay. They're the kids who survived. The ones who have to now live with the horrors inflicted on them by the capital. As I was typing this I actually thought it'd fit Neteyam to make a shrine for one of his competitors like Katniss did for Rue. He bonded with a little girl that was Lo'ak's age at the time but reminded him a lot of Tuk. When she died it was like he could see both of his siblings dying with her and it utterly gutted him. He honored her in front of all of Panem and for it everyone loves him.

Kiri is beloved for her definice. It inspires so many others to stand up and fight.

Lo'ak feels ashamed for what happened to his mother and is very candid about it. He talks openly about how he felt so inadequate compared to his "hero" parents and brother. But he understands now that underneath all the pageantry and splendor of the Capital is a absolutely vile core that needs to be ripped out so that they all can finally know peace.

Tsireya is a medic in this like Prim was. Her and Lo'ak start up a romance because they trauma bond over a family member being held hostage.

Tuk is there but she's just too little to really do anything.

And finally Grace in all this plays a similar roll as the mayor from district 8. She just had this lightbulb moment after having Kiri that her daughter would never know peace as long as there tyrannical government stayed in power. She wanted to take Kiri with her but she got word that a sickness was spreading through 13 that was killing all the children. Kiri and her have a lot to work through but Kiri doesn't get angry with Grace for wanting to fight for a better world. Kiri still grew up healthy and happy with her adopted family and soon all of them would be able to live freely and safely in the world they'll create.

Finally the opportunity arrives to save the hostages. Norm is able to hack the system giving a volunteer strike team an opening. the team is made up of Quaritch, Paz, Ronal, Tonowari and Neteyam. It goes off without a hitch. I want to say that unlike in the movie/book where Snow actually just let them go that in this au the strike team was actually just that good and got in and out without anyone noticing. The families all hold each other all the way home the only sounds coming from their cries of relief.

Also none of them are brainwashed to try and kill a loved one. They are severely traumatized though. Their tortures goes as follows and you can skip to the next paragraph if you’d rather not read this. Spider was made to see horrific fantasies under trackerjacker venom to the point where it’s hard for him to tell what’s real anymore. He’s jittery and anxious all the time and panics easily. He flinches if someone raises a hand too fast and that includes his own parents who are both devastated for their son and enraged that the capital would hurt their boy so badly he couldn’t even trust his own mom and dad anymore. Kiri helps Spider through it playing “real or not real,” something she tells Quaritch and Paz about to better manage Spiders dissociative episodes when she’s not around. Aonung was given electric shocks in water now making him fear it. Even seeing a few drops of water is enough to make him shake. This hurts his whole family to see since the ocean is the core of there cultural identity. Ronal and Tonowari want to burn the entire capital down to nothing for the crime against humanity they’ve inflicted on their son. It takes so much time but his parents and sister start with coaching Aonung through the breathing mediation he’d do as a small child when he was first learning to swim putting his mind at ease by reciting the way of water with him. Once he doesn’t freak out seeing so much as a cup of water they slowly get him to interact with it again first with a very shallow bath (basically a puddle) building until his family is lovingly coaxing him into a pool. He panics at first but swimming is like breathing to him and surrounded by so much love and support he eventually calms. Neytiri was given a drug that made the simplest touch feel like excruciating pain. She knows it was just the chemicals they pumped into her veins but she can’t help but flinch every time one of her children hugs her, her breath catching in her throat. She puts on a brave face and holds her children despite how much it makes her heart race. The only one she talks about this with is Jake. They do their own form of real or not real where he’ll brush his fingertips over her arm so so gently he’s almost not touching her at all and ask, “pain or no pain,” until Neytiri can retrain her mind to not associate every minor touch with pain.

After they take time to recover it’s decided that a strike team will be sent out to assassinat Snow. There’s no way in hell any of the parents will let there kids go on this mission so it’s all the adults. Maybe it's just because I love all these characters and don’t want to kill them off but I’m going to say they’re all so good that they outmaneuver every capital trap and survive Ardmore’s bombing of civilians but if I was going to kill people off here's how I’d do it…

Tonowari meets the same fate as Boggs killed in a trap.

Quaritch is overwhelmed by mutts like Finnick was. Paz shoots him herself to put him out of his misery

Neteyam is killed in the second wave of bombings. He snuck out of 13 with the medics because he wanted to give aid to the civilians hurt in the war.

I also had the very evil idea of Neteyam getting sent to the group like Peeta was for some reason, and him being injured in the same trap that killed Tonowari and Neytiri staying with him while the rest move on only for them both to die when the building their hiding in is bombed and then Tsireya dies trying to give medical aid to civilians but good god is that devastating for me to think about.

But it’s a good thing none of that happens! So Ardmore gathers all the past hunger games victors to discuss Snow’s public execution and to float the idea of a hunger games with the capitals children. They are all equally horrified because they’ve all been through so much and just want peace. The kids all speak out but the parents stay quiet all silently thinking the same thing. This bitch has got to go.

All the victors are lined up with bows and arrows to execute Snow in front of the whole country. Only half of the arrows pierce him though. They other half sail right into Ardmore’s chest. Grace is later elected president. Kiri is constantly going from the Sully’s place to Grace’s to Spider’s. Spider and his parents live in a cottage in a peaceful meadow where he continues his recover. His mom is kind of smothering now still recovering from the trauma of losing her son but he knows it’s all love. When he’s in a better place he decides to travel and see the new world. Ronal and Tonowari are surprised to learn they’re expecting but it’s a happy surprise. They can’t wait to bring their third into a peaceful world. Tsireya continues her medical training and Aonung becomes a sailor. He just feels at peace out on the ocean. Jake is basically Graces Vice President and Neytiri is basically the secretary of infrastructure working to rebuild every district. Neteyam, Lo’ak, and Kiri are the leads on construction on a memorial for all the children slaughtered in the games. Everyone is their on opening day. It’s seeing the memorial that really brings peace to all of them. It’s not only a testament to those killed, but a marker that all the horror is now over.

Hope you all enjoyed the long awaited part 2! I’d love to know your thoughts 💙

[evita-shelby]

Searching for three words prompts i found this one: "She was mine."

It has all the potential to be a dark fic and I'm here for it. But I'd like a Eva-Luca-Aveline. An ot3 that ends bad somehow? Eva and Linnie tired of Luca's bullshit 👀🤭? I'm here for it.

Only if you want, of course!! No need to say it ❤️.

thanks @justrainandcoffee 🖤🖤🖤

because its set in the Hunger Games au, uts gonna be dark

Party for Three

cw: sex trafficking, abuse, age gaps(older man/younger woman, older woman/younger woman) drugging, manipulation and attempted murder

Aveline Young x Eva Smith

“She was mine; you know.” Luca looks at the Victor from 11 with desire as he holds court at some rich fuck's villa. “You never forget your first.”

Victors were invited, even the ones with owners like Eva. A weekend full of depravity where the only rule was not to get between Luca and the ones he owns.

Eva was spared the worst part of the horrors even if Luca loved showing off his toys. While he no longer needed drugs and booze to keep Eva complacent, the nightmares of what Everett and his people did to her were enough to make her thankful for the gangster’s existence.

And he also satisfies her, something incredibly rare in this shithole. So, her time is spent with Luca, who chooses what she wears, what she does and even who she talks to.

Like now that instead of dancing or talking to her fellow prisoners, she is on Luca’s lap with the gangster teasing her because he’s not above fucking her in public to show his dominance. He’s done it before, its why she only wears skirts and dresses, hell, its why they are only allowed to wear things that give their clients easy access to the parts they buy.

“She’s unclaimed, I saw the roster for tonight. Would you like me to claim her for you?” Eva played the compliant yet slightly jealous lover to perfection. The right touches, the right tone and Luca was putty in her hands.

“She’s a hard nut to crack, no one’s been able to claim her since I had her.” He smirks and loosens his hold on her knowing Aveline Young wouldn’t say no to her. “If you can make her come to me, pussycat, I’ll let you have her too.”

Luca knows she’s attracted to women, even if she hadn’t been before Eva had no real choice about it. Sometimes it was Cashmere, or another girl avoiding a worse client, and sometimes it was his Capitol born lovers.

Linnie liked her, liked her enough to fool around when she wasn’t working the night. While no rule existed to keep mentors and victors from fucking each other, Eva was off limits lest they want to push daisies.

Aveline had no such fears, and their game continued over the years.

So, taking advantage of that, the Victor from 10 plays up the act of seducing the older woman to give Luca a good show.

“I know you don’t do this sort of ‘work’ but just this once.” The younger woman whispers mere inches away from her secret lover’s lips. As far as everyone knows, Eva’s putting on one of her shows where she entices her partner and butters them up for Luca.

Eva’s a jealous woman, but she toes the line just like the rest do. Or so she's had them believe.

“Anything for our darling Luca.” Aveline says the right words and winks at Luca before kissing Eva on the dance floor.

The kiss while exaggerated for effect, was perhaps the most genuine form of affection she’s been given this weekend.

They make quite the pair, while Eva was not as tall as Linnie, they were both stunning women with a fire in their blood the Capitol couldn’t extinguish no matter what they tried. Hence why Luca was so enamored by them.

It’s not long until they are back in Luca’s suite desperate to get the night over with. While she’s come to physically enjoy being with him and the others, Eva will never feel anything but disgust for him.

But she gets to have Linnie, touch her and kiss her even if they have Luca between them. It would be fun either way, if Luca keeps his word then both victors can be together on their own.

They’ve barely gotten to the bed, removed the last of their clothes but not their jewelry ---for Luca had gifted it to them--- before Luca goes out like a light.

“What, do you think I’d let him touch me again?” the black woman reveals the empty pillbox in her ring with a chuckle. “The only one I want, is you.”

Eva feeling that sweet sweet freedom was within reach gets one of the pillows and places it over his head. She could do it, she knows the avoxes will cover for her and unlike last time she won’t have to lie and say it was because she was curious about erotic choking.

But Aveline stops her.

The older woman warns and makes her remove the pillow before he began to suffocate. “Your tongue is one of your best features, sweetheart, if you behave yourself we’ll have our own party here.”

Even with Luca dead to the world in the massive bed, it’s one of the best nights they’ve had.

[just-call-mefr1es]

pls just infodump on your tbp aus. any one of them. i don’t care which, i will literally take any au material you give me and ill eat it WHOLE.

wait omg???!?!? fr??? eeeeee tysmmm>_< 💗💗💗

i will never turn down a chance to talk abt my thg x tbp au>:333

where do i even begin? (SPOILERS FOR THE HUNGER GAMES)

intro/74th games

so first off, districts and year/age they won. finney, gwen, robin n donna r all in 12 with finney n robin winning 74th games at 16. bruce is in 1 winning the 65th at 14. billy in 6 winning 72nd at 15. vance in 7 winning 66th at 15 and (my newest change) griffij in 10, winning the 73rd at 12. he used to be in 4, then 11, before i switched it to 10 cus im just thar indecisive. ph and the gr@bber twkes the place of president $now (yes i have to censor both their names)

so, id just like to say that donna takes the role of madge in this au, but dw she doesnt die befause i dont want her to, same goes with gwen i just cant😵‍💫🤕 but that doesnt mean i cant make them suffer !! thsts for later tho, cus gwen gets her name picked in the reaping at fourteen (im checking my notes for this), finney obviously volunteers for her, and you may be asking how he’s able to do that. well, finneys trans, which means hes stil technically legible for the girls part of the reaping thing, so boom. he goes into the hunger games. so does robin!! theyre still besties in this point in time so when they both go to the games together theyre all sad and stuff. they still hace to go thru the love act thing, which obviously gets awkward between them because,,, thats your best bro, bro. so yeah they totally dont get crushes on each other whaaa… so they pull the berry technique from the og hunger games thing and there you go! they both win yipee. so obvs pres. sh@w (thars his name in the au) gets PISSED and arranges the quarter quell to reap victors for the tributes (in my au it WAS rigged lol). and thats how our og ghost gang meet up!!

backgrounds

first off, a lil bit of backstories.

bruce n vance knew each other from the 66th victory party thing (because those exist) and at first vance did NOT like bruce becus he thought he was just a fake little capitol doll who’s full of himself, then the two started developing some more and hey theyre gay now! but uh oh! the capitols not homophobic they just dont like cross district relationships so bruce n vance have to be quiet bout that. i love brance so much. just thought id say that.

also, billy’s a spy!! im pretty sure i drew something about that wayyy back then but im saying it again. hes a spy for district 13, and their plans for rebellion and the shit like that. they recruited him to be a spy because in his games he did a lil anti capitol act which was enough to spark controversy but not enough for president sh@w to kill his family (*cough* WHAR HAPPENED TO VANCE *cough cough*) and 13 saw that and was like ‘hey this kid could really help us!’ and boom hes recruited. president sh@w was suspicious as SHIT of him and used the quarter quell to pick his name out of thst bowl and put hik into the arena.

griffij is the youngest victor in hunger games history ever, winning at twelve (yeah ikr). he kinds just waiter his games out and gecause he was from a poor district, and wirh how young he was, the other tributes sorta just forgot about him/didnt think he was a threat to remember if he actually died or not(just like in the movie how nobody knew him ;) see im super good with this) until the ‘last’ tribute was celebrating his victory and griffin jumpscared him and barbaque skewered him to death (stabby). oh and his district partner blew up right infront of him before the game started. lolz. so that happened:P

now soley bruce! hes definitely the most privileged one out of the gang because of his district, but that doesnt mean he cant suffer!🎉🎉 so, from the start, bruce was immediately a capitol hit, since he was charming, handsome and athletic. he won his games pretty easily, at fourteen i wrote down?yep fourteen! so he won his games, and the captiol people started to really like him, wanting to see more of him and such. pres sh@w was 100% part of that crowd and well, made a deal with him. at 16, bruce had to make a decision. sell your soul for the hollywood dream capitol audinence or everyone he loves dies. i think irs obvious which option he picked.

and heres where vance comes in! vance was also a pretty big hit when he won his games a year after bruce at 15, since he was strong, aggressive, and simp material ig. so, president sh@w gave him the same choice as bruce: become a capitol slave or everyone you love dies. vance, being vance, told pres sh@w to fuck off and that he would kill hom before he could lay a finger on his family. well, that onviously didnt end well. andddd now we’re at the 75th games!

3rd quarter quell

pres sh@w rigged it so that billy and vance would get in (he hated those two so much) he didnt need to rig it any more for robin n finney, and griffin and bruce just got in there. fun fact! griffin didnt actually get his name reaped for the 75th, he volunteered becuase the man that did get reaped had kids and griffin was like ‘awh they deserve to have a father figure’ (cause he doesnt have one /frfr) so he was like ‘i volunterer!!’ his mama was devastated.

now theyre in the capitol! finney and robin r both having crisis since they both want each other to live, griffin knows hes gonna die and is terrified, vance knows hes gonna die and doesnt give two shits, bruce promised his family hed make it out so hes trying to convince himself hes not gonna die, billy got instructions from 13 to evacuate as much peeps as he coukd to 13 so hes stressed about that. as you can see, theyre all SO mentally stbale! 💞

(their ages in the 3qq: finney, robin r 17, billy is 18, bruce n vance r 24 and griffs 14:P)

practivijg for the games, griffin watched thru all the tapes for the games for each of the tributes (like how they did in og hunger games yk) snd was amazed at vance for vancecing out ig. so while theyre in the practicing place thing (i forgort what its called😿) griffiin tries to talk to vance and stuff to see if they can ally together despite literally everyone telling him theres no use in doing it (after the famiky death incident, everyoje just all agreed to ignore hik and shit). griffin didnt care shit, and tried to twlk tk vance, but he got too scared:( butttt they managed to ally in the actual arena! how? ill tell you later

speaking of allies, billy was instructed by 13 to gather all the tributes that would be useful in their plans of reblelloon which obvs included finney. but, billy obvs knew that finney wouldnt go anywhere without robin (he asked himself if he (finney) would ally with him , and finney responded with exaxtlu that) so yay now theyre all teamed. then billy thought, hey, if bruce joined us, the crowd would totes join in the rebellion, since, yk bruce is the capitol’s golden boy; now theyre all allies since brucey agreed. honestly, bruce knew that if he wanted to win, he shouldnt team, because he has trouble hurting people (“how did he win his games then?”- THROUFH GUILT AND BREAKING HIS MORALS.) but he couldnt resist. plus, he thought the three were so cute (not in a sus way🤬) and, just to mention, when bruce n vance shared their last dance (cus the capitol threw em a lil party b4 the arena) they agreed not to meet each other because they knew they would be forced ro kill each other if they did and they didnt want that😕

[ let me go ooc for a sec, ik katniss being mockingjay was caused by rue- without rue there is no mockingjay, so in order for finney to become the symbol of rebellion, i need a rue, which i DONT have. this is actually a hole in the au which ive relly needed to patch up for some time but never brainee enough to do it so sorrs bout that😿 jus prtend finney did shit to become the symbol of rebellion for now until i actually find something💔⛓️]

so, in the arena, they do their thing and boom. group 1 (billy and others) head into the forest thing (cus the arenas r the same from og hg to this au) and so do vance n griffin. griffin thought it would be a wonderful idea whatsoever to surprise vance with an attack so that they could ally cus he thought thst if he ‘proved hijself’ vance would want to ally with him. so, with a crusty ass rake thingy, he surprise attacked him (hes actuallys not so bad at combat ngl). vance, knwoing shit about what the fuck griffin’s thinking process is, assumed it was just your usoal hg ambush and instantly fought back, despite not caring for death (hes still competitive, okay), which resulted in him harming griffin pretty bad. before vance could finish him off, he noticed griffin for the first time. like- how young he was, blah blah blah, and also got a deja vu at how similar he looked to his sister, who, if you remember 70 paragraphs ago, fuckin died. so vance gets all mushy and guilt piles up and hes like ‘oh shit i needa help this kid’ and boom. theyre allies now. okay, you see this is the part where hopperstagg (non biological) brother bonding happens, okay? OKAY???

then, rhey run into billy’s gang, bruce and vance see each other and are like ‘oh shit’ but theres no getting out because now griffin wants to join billys group cus he n billy became friends during his victors tour thing so yeah. now theyre allied together<33

andd thats how that shit happens! they all have this lil bonding time, enough for them to start really caring about each other and want each other to survive and shit, so yippee. but if you thought it ended there, oh no, buddy i have expanded upon this au farther thwn the universe okay. so ik ive mentioned this in another post, billy gets vance in on the lil spy from 13 thing and they both agree to try to get them all to safety. but, unfortunately, theyre too late and- oh shit are we in district 13 now?!?!???

yep. its mockingjay time.

how rhe hell are we in district 13 now???

so, assuminf you know everything about the huhger games, they obvs get finney out, but were too late for robin, bruce n griffin. i explained all this in that separate post i menetioned, but if u didnt see it (i dont blame u if u didnts) basicslly they didnt rip their capitol tracking devices things out of their arms when they had time, but billy did get finney’s so yay! now, theyre all in a depresed era because theyre safe while the rest of the gang isnt, and is instead being tortured by yours truly, the capitol!! how exciting frfr

since they also bombed 12, following the timesline of og hunger games, finneys family survives (i dont think ive mentioned this but their mom died a kong time ago, their dad was abusive but is working on getting better after thr 74th games/trauma happening. just like og hunger games, just like og black phone) and meets up in 13. so with donna becauee im not oetting girlie die🤬🤬 then seeing all that, billy gets big brain idea to round up all the victors families that they can and let them stah in district 13, and with enough convincing, they do! they go to district 1 for bruce’s family, and everyone else’s. vsnce didnt come along with them (billy finney, gwen and some district 13 soldier dudes) and stayed in 13, and tood everyoje to skip his district. finney, who didnt know his family was dead went anyways and found out abt his damilys death the hard way. fun fact! i wrote a fict abt this!! jus click on the link in my pinned post, ignore the fic that the link sends u to and check out ky works😅 its kinda old but canon in my au nonethless

so thats that, and just got to let yall know, gwen and amy got along super well upon first meeting and uh. lesbian. theyre canon in this au btw😋 now more angst! 13 is finally able to get the other half of the old basement boys gang out of the capitol and into 13. stuff followed regular hg canon, bruce and vance can finally kiss cus they coukdnt do that before (capitols always watching,,,,,,,) and robin hates finneys guts now! wait robin what-

thars right, folks! capitol brainwashing go brr and now robin thinks everyone around him is a mutt! how awesome! i also tried incorporating the boys’ movie scars and stuff into this au, so bruce got an eye scar from his games, vance, billy and finney too, but robin n griffin got their ‘movie scars’ from the capitol’s torturing, so once griffy came back, voice go bye bye:3 OH! cant leafe out the fact that bruce and vance then got MARRIED!!!!! YAY!!!!!

time time time skip,, the boys r in the capitol, and ready to kill pres. sh@w! finally! oj the trip, robin starts to get more and more understanding about finney and starts to not hate him, also getting some of his memories restored! in the au, he wasnt entirely converted into hating finney like how peeta was in hg, he was just giving in to the capitol after a bunch of fighting against them; he just reallu wanted sll the suffering to end:( anygays theyre all sneacking around, bruce gets to beat the shit out of people (as he deserves, king) and bada bing bada boom, pres. sh@w’s dead, everyone dances on his grave, panem becomes an actual good country or something, robin gets better and him and finney kiss and shit abd boom. end of au. uh.

shit that was a LOT of yapping😭 im so sorry bout the whole ass college essay length of au lor- thats how you know ive been developing this au for a while lmao. anygays i do hope that made sense and that you enjoyed it, and if u have questions, feel free to ask:3 thanks again anon for letting me ramble!!

[french-unknown]

𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐆𝐈𝐀 | 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐎𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫

finnick odair x fem!reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Having both grown up as friends in District 4, you're not surprised when your heart starts racing for the green-eyed blond. However, he may not be as free as you thought.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: none

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1.1k +

𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄

[ m a s t e r l i s t ]

OCEAN NOSTALGIA HEADCANON

You grew up in District 4.

You both were the only two kids of the same age in the neighborhood so you quickly became friends and didn't let go. A typical day in your childhood was when his fisherman father took you both to the beach, on a day off, to teach you how to swim in a creek. After the effort, the day always ended with the three of you eating the salty green seaweed bread in the shape of a fish made by your mother.

The recess in the cliff next to this cove becomes your secret place for both of you.

During his Games at 14 (the 65th Hunger Games) you stayed in front of the screen with his parents, your parents and a few members of the neighborhood.

When he returns after his Games, he's not completely the same: he's more withdrawn and does not talk as much. Besides, since he's moving with his family to Victors' Village, you're afraid of losing contact.

However, it's Finnick who hangs on and who takes you home every night after class or who comes on weekends to hang out. He's not as happy as before and calmer, but he's always around you to listen to you talk about your passion for marine biology or simply to experience the moments with your parents who still include him in the life of your family (meals) and family activities (trip to the beach, sea trip on your father's boat, etc.)

Unfortunately, you don't notice any negative changes in his behavior after he turned 16, when he started being prostituted by Snow, and he doesn't tell anyone about it because you and his family are the people threatened with execution by the old man. He continues to come and hang out with you, but he becomes more outgoing and disconnects from you a little bit to hang out with more people. He becomes popular enough in the district to be the nice guy who is always ready to chat and help.

You begin to learn the trade of an oyster farmer.

From around 18, he slowly starts to flirt with you.

Appearances of dates neither seen nor known with, among other things, meetings to go out together in order to eat or drink. Or you find yourself at each other's house. Or he plans outings to the beach or to your secret place.

So you sometimes go on beach dates in the cove out of sight where you learned to swim when you were younger. You notice that he doesn't take his eyes off you when you take off your clothes to find yourself in a bathing suit and, when he realizes after a while that you're watching him observe you, he does not disassemble and gives you a small smile while maintaining eye contact.

"This swimsuit looks great on you"

Come and get you sometimes after work to tease you about your waterproof aquaculture protections: jacket, suspender jacket, waders, gloves and sometimes a hat. He usually comes to take you to eat or drink or just hang out together. However, since the Victors' Village is closer than your home, he takes you to his home so you can wash and change there. So you end up leaving clothes at his house, which he keeps carefully in his wardrobe with his own clothes, for "ease" and your clothes start to smell like him.

However, while you warm up with him, you learn about the string of lovers he has at the Capitol.

You immediately stop flirting on your side because you think you're just another flirt. During the confrontation, he's unable to tell you anything other than that he will not stop seeing them but that he also cares a lot about you. Hurt, you completely stop talking to him until he agrees to stop flirting with you. It's friendship or nothing.

After a week, he sadly knocks on your door and accepts your conditions to continue seeing you.

Your friendship is picking up again, but it's more fragile than before. You both try to ignore the atmosphere between you two and, at the slightest misstep, you both freeze: him, afraid that you will end all contact, and you, feeling ill at the idea that he regards you as one of his Capitol conquests. No more sunsets together in your secret cove, no more teasing tensions between you after a few drinks, no more of you sitting between his legs with your back against his chest because it's starting to get windy on the beach and you're cold.

This year, when he goes back to the Capitol like every year, you feel it like a stab in the stomach.

When he returns, you then decide to confront him one last time before cutting ties definitively. You confess your feelings to him as well as the fact that you don't want to be one among the others and that it hurts you too much to see him leave knowing what he will do there. In the emotion of the moment, Finnick also confesses his feelings to you with tears in his eyes as well as the reasons that pushed him to act like this at the Capitol. Shocked, you spend the night listening to him talk about what he has been going through for several years. You end the night by falling asleep in each other's arms.

The next day, he tells you that he will not be able to get rid of his constraints at the Capitol but that he would still like to start a relationship with you because he loves you.

You accept and you start dating.

You have a "normal" relationship for most of the year. He is especially fond of physical touches and quality time so it will not be surprising if you find yourself stuck in bed with him in the morning. He will love to stay in the covers holding you tightly in his arms, showering kisses on your hair or your face, while chatting or listening to you talk about whatever is on your mind.

Unfortunately, when the Hunger Games arrive and a few weeks after, you become his support system thanks to more hugs. He's also more in need of words of affirmation about how wonderful he is and that you love him. The times when he is not there are also complicated for you but you do your best not to think about it.

By some miracle, you were not kidnapped at the end of the 75th Hunger Games and you end up finding Finnick after the victory of the Rebels and the death of Snow.

You settle down together and live happily.

[maggie32432]

Prisoners - Finnick Odair Imagine (Part 4)

Finnick Odair and Sirena Nighthart both won their respective Hunger Games at age 14. Both from District 4. Finnick and Sirena both grow up in the Capitol, though keeping their distance from each other. What happens when both get reaped at the Quarter Quell for the 75th Hunger Games?

We walk away and I ask,  "How are you so good at that?"  "Good at what?"  "People, I mean the way you talked to her was intimidating and you didn't even have to say anything directly threatening," I remark, 

"It's how you use people around here, Blue," he says while we get on our chariot. My hands shake slightly, but he holds my hand once more.  "Don't let Snow know you're afraid. You and I gotta show him that we're not scared," he whispers in my ear. 

The chariots begin to move forward and he holds my hand, preparing to raise it in the air.

Everyone in the Capitol and all the victors know that Finnick and I are a force to be reckoned with. That I never doubted. The only thing I'm nervous about is keeping me and Finnick alive. 

The crowd cheers as the chariots roll in a line. Just like last time. It's all just like last time. 

I hear my name being chanted by a few people in the crowd, but it's hard to hear over the drums beating loudly as we move. 

Finnick's hand holds mine gently, of course, he knows that I'm nervous. 

I don't smile the way he does, my face stays hardened. It's the only way right now that I can conceal the fact that I am terrified.  We are one of the first carriages to roll around the circle to where President Snow stands. His eyes follow me and Finn carefully. 

No signs of emotion are on his face. Nothing other than a stoic and serious look from him.  His eyes follow us still, but as I make eye contact with him he gives me a nod. I clench my jaw a bit, my body stiffening up. 

Finnick looks to President Snow as well, but the smirk does not leave his lips. He raises our hands in the air, just as a few of the other chariots do.  What the hell did that nod mean? And why does he always look at me with such intrigue and curiosity? 

I don't understand. 

The chariots begin to roll back the way we came, and I just feel relieved that I no longer have to be under the eyes of President Snow. Now his eyes are on Katniss. 

If President Snow ever figures out our plan to protect her then we're all dead. Well, we may already be dead anyway given the situation. 

I wish it were simpler. Just protect Finnick and me. 

But I can't do that because I have to protect her now. For the sake of Panem. 

"How ya feeling, Blue?" Finnick asks me with a grin on his face,  "I feel like I'm re-living the past," I mutter as if I didn't already have enough PTSD from the first time around. 

"I can assure you that most of the people here are much more afraid of you than you are of them,"  "I'm always afraid," I whisper as the chariots come to a slow stop.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That evening Haymitch Abernathy brings us into a secluded room with a few other victors that I recognize.  Finnick sits beside me, raising an eyebrow toward me about why we're here.

There are about 10 or 12 people in here, not including Haymitch.  "It's no question that Katniss has inspired everyone in the districts," he says and I ask, 

"What does that have to do with us?"  "There's a revolution against the Capitol coming. Katniss is going to be the leader. The Mockingjay. Plutarch Heavensbee is also in on it, but if you're here it means I need you to keep Katniss alive," 

"Why should we risk our lives to protect her? Especially while we're already saving our own asses in the arena," Finnick asks,  "Because this is bigger than the Games, but we need Katniss. I need you to be her allies to get her out of there," Haymitch says, and I nod while pondering it over. 

It's true that things are changing across Panem, especially because of Katniss. 

"So what? We befriend her in the arena? What then?"  "Heavensbee and I have a plan to get her out when necessary, but you can't let her know or discuss the plan outside of this room," Haymitch argues and I nod. 

"Well, I'm in," I say,  "Sirena," Finnick argues,  "We need this. Panem needs her," I argue and he sighs, 

"Well if Nighthart's in then I'm in," He says and it makes my stomach flip just a little to hear him say that. 

Everyone else in the room eventually agrees to help Katniss, it's ironic that she doesn't even know we're all willing to risk our lives for her.

We all know what's been coming for years now, and we know that Panem needs the Mockingjay to overthrow The Capitol. 

We leave the room a bit after that, knowing that this Quarter Quell is now much bigger than ourselves.  As we walk back to the tribute village, I notice an unusual number of guards around the floor where Finnick and I are staying. 

"Oh God," I whisper, knowing all too well what this is going to mean.  As we arrive at the main room Finnick still has a smirk plastered on his face, but it doesn't reach his eyes. 

"President Snow," I say with a smile, making sure that it does reach my eyes,  The menacing man sits at the table in the middle of the room, simply enjoying a glass of wine. Guards stand around him all over the room, 

"Finnick Odair. Miss Nighthart," He says,  "What brings you here?" Finnick asks charmingly,  "I wanted to speak to Miss Nighthart, privately," He says, sipping his drink. 

Finnick stands slightly in front of me, unmoving, 

His face would never show it, but I can tell how tense his body is now.

Not wanting to leave the room...aka leave me.  

"Of course, President Snow," I say kindly, putting my hand on Finnick's arm for just a moment.  "Well I'll be right upstairs, then," He says, giving me a reassuring nod while hesitantly walking away. 

I take a heavy breath and sit down across from President Snow.

[heavensbeehall]

"Mockingjay", Chapter 16

Part 2: The Assault

Chapter 16: Katniss comes back to consciousness (again!) after being shot and remembers the "Stay with me"/"Always" exchange with Peeta from the second book. Johanna Mason--what a queen--shows up to steal some drugs from Katniss. Johanna is addicted to "morphling" now, but in a fun way. Katniss and Gale fight about killing people but District 2 is now in Rebellion hands. Even though she lost a spleen, Katniss is made to return to work. Plutarch talks about "Panem et Circenses" for all the English teachers in the audience. Annie and Finnick are getting married! Katniss is stunned when the cake is wheeled out and it was obviously made by Peeta, who has been getting better after his first breakthrough. At midnight she goes to talk to him (and I have questions about why the staff at 13 is all around at midnight but they are not addressed. Perhaps they wanted a good Hanging Tree reference for this uncomfortable encounter). Peeta is pissy which I will allow since she was tortured for weeks. He sees Katniss through a new lens. She thinks it's "the truth" because she hates herself and is depressed and clearly needs medication--not to the responsibility of a rebellion. But it's more like he sees her through Snow's eyes now. (That women are not to be trusted and love makes you weak.)

Thoughts:

-- This book depresses me a bit and my own mental health hasn't been great lately. I should remind myself there is more Johanna. Because I really do like the part where they are roommates.

-- When Johanna calls Gale "gorgeous" and then laughs, it makes me think she is messing with him the way she did with Katniss in book 2. But I don't know if she is messing with Katniss or Gale, actually.

Quotes:

"You should have been the Mockingjay. No one would've had to feed you lines," I say. "True. But no one likes me," she tells me.

Given that Suzanne Collins has said they have tried to use previous victors (she particularly cited Finnick) as a rallying point for rebellion, I wonder if she says this from experience. The way Johanna won--by pretending for the camers--is actually quite smart. She used the game against the Gamemakers. Her "act" would be mostly in things we know Snow added to the Hunger Games--the interviews, the betting odds etc. If they had just thrown her into an arena, like 1-10th, then this would not be possible to do. Nor do I think crying or being sad to fight to the death is abnormal. We have seen Lamina (also a female tribute from 7) portrayed as somewhat weak during her Games but be mentally tough. I imagine it was easy to dismiss Johanna. But then when she won, it seems (as with many reality shows) she was not lauded for her cleverness but instead portrayed as a liar and a bitch.

Does anyone have strong headcanons about Johanna? For some reason, I assume she had siblings that were killed. Possibly because of how she interacts with Katniss and Finnick, like she is used to having someone close to her who is her age. But that person or persons is gone now.

Somehow staging some perverse wedding between Peeta and me. I haven't been able to face that one-way glass since I've been back and, at my own request, only get updates about Peeta's condition from Haymitch. He speaks very little about it. Different techniques are being tried. There will never truly be a way to cure him.And now they want me to marry Peeta for a propo?

I read a fanfic about this once. Anyway, you will note that Katniss instinctively assumes Plutarch will use her the same way Snow did which doesn't reassure me much about Plutarch's vibes.

... the music is provided by a choir of children accompanied by the lone fiddler who made it out of 12 with his instrument...

We think this is Clerk Carmine's fiddle, yes? I don't know where you would buy a new instrument in 12.

Sure enough, Greasy Sae grabs Gale by the hand and pulls him into the center of the floor and faces off with him

Get it, Greasy Sae! (I do not necessarily hold to the theory that Lucy Gray is Greasy Sae, but I do think--since she sells her wares at the Hob and has been around awhile, she would probably know the most about the Covey. I'd love to interview her for my fictional documentary about the history of the Hunger Games.)

"I must have loved you a lot."

I would like to think that Peeta need not be "in love" with Katniss to give her some bread. It's very "Snow-like" to assume that he would only do that if he was in love with her, and the love was like tricking him into something (which I think is how he comes to see everything he did for Lucy Gray, as some grand manipulation) when it's just normal to not like seeing someone else suffer.

[alwaysspeakshermind]

How do you think Peeta could join the Careers at 74th Hunger Games?

What did he do? Duel with another career? Killing another tributes on the Cornucopia?

Do you think before The Rule Change (2 victors from the same district), Peeta already determined to help Katniss becoming the winner? Thoughts?

Thank you :)

@curiousnonny

Ooh, I like this one!

I think there's kind of two plausible answers to this one based on what we know about how the Careers operate, what we know happened during training and at the Cornucopia, and what we obliquely hear from Haymitch about how Peeta "barely got in with them."

Haymitch does some smooth-talking with the Careers' mentors, sells them on Peeta as an ally because he's strong, his score was comparable to their tributes' scores, he's one half of the star-crossed lovers who are going to have sponsors falling all over them, he allegedly has intel he might be willing to cough up on Katniss (we know he won't and Haymitch knows he won't, but tbh, if I were a mentor, I'd absolutely believe Peeta's as interested in winning as everyone else is), and all those things listed above are the sort of thing that would make him a decent choice for an ally.

Peeta does some smooth-talking to convince the Careers to let him join. We know from Katniss/the way people respond to him, that Peeta's good with words. He's also likeable and, frankly, just doesn't have the kind of personality you'd consider a threat in a winner-takes-all fight to the death. It's the kind of thing you see on reality shows like Survivor or The Amazing Race all the time, where a strategy popular amongst the strongest players is "we have a warrior mentality and want only the strongest people/teams in the finale because that will be a real competition and if you win you'll have legendary bragging rights," but that's also coupled with this underlying sneakier-but-more-sensible strategy of "I also want to keep around someone I'm confident I can beat because if it comes down to a me or them thing, I want the advantage" and Peeta fits that bill nicely. Like, he's strong enough/brings enough to the table to not drag the team down, but they also don't consider him a big threat, which makes him easily disposable. Because Katniss mentions Foxface as his "first kill" (and they've been talking so we assume she would know), I think we can pretty safely rule out Peeta killing another tribute, but since Katniss also mentions he looks like he's been in a fight the first time she sees him in the arena ("His face is swollen with bruises, there's a bloody bandage on one arm, and from the sound of his gait, he's limping somewhat"), I think the theory I personally subscribe to is that he held someone off during the bloodbath at the Cornucopia long enough to make them listen to his pitch.

"Do you think before The Rule Change (2 victors from the same district), Peeta already determined to help Katniss becoming the winner? Thoughts?"

In short...yes, yes I do.

Actually, I think there's a good case for "Peeta made up his mind that Katniss was coming back, not him on the ride to the train" simply because of how he switches from openly crying on the way there (not surprising considering the circumstances, but also possibly indicative of someone who's struggling with the realization that he doesn't want to die, but the person he most wants to survive isn't himself) to demanding Haymitch's full attention, and trying to find out what they need to do.

Then, once they get to the Capitol and Haymitch sees that they've both got potential, Peeta doesn't let Katniss downplay her abilities, helps her maintain their We're A Team strategy in public (honestly, as someone who teeters on the brink of severe introversion at times and literally cannot make small talk/keep a conversation going when the battery has run dry or I'm not well-acquainted with whoever I'm talking to, I think it cannot be emphasized enough how valuable Peeta's contribution is here since he essentially single-handedly lays the groundwork for the dramatic interview confession and makes the idea that they're at least friends somewhat believable), and reminds her not to get involved in the bloodbath when he can see she's considering running for the bow.

And once they're in the arena, then of course he misleads the Careers and holds off Cato after the tracker jacker incident, so basically, by the time they announce the rule change, I think Peeta was probably just like, "Oh, cool. Too bad they couldn't do something like this EARLIER, when I might have actually been able to contribute something to the team" (because at that point, I think he was also still pretty sure he was going to die from his leg wound).

[notelasts]

NOW PRESENTING: ARTHUR ART DONALDSON, VICTOR OF THE SIXTY THIRD HUNGER GAMES!

this verse is heavily affiliated with and is single ship with @cannotfly.

pre games

art is the son of george and kayla donaldson. george is the mayor of district four, and because art is the mayor’s son, he doesn’t have to participate in the career training that the other children partake in. art spends most of his time inside, learning how to one day take over the mayorship from his father. he sneaks into the kitchen and learns how to cook, and sneaks down to the dock behind his house to teach himself how to swim. he learns a little bit about knots and ropes and boats, but not as much as an ordinary citizen of four would know. he knows how to fish, though. he’s pretty good at it. he’s also fairly good with a knife. his father had deemed it necessary for art to know how to defend himself should he ever be attacked, and so art had decided to learn how to properly wield a knife. he knows how to handle a trident to some extent, but he’s much better with knives.

when art is thirteen, he and his family go to the reaping ceremony like they always do. when art is thirteen, he gets reaped for the hunger games. his father had never paid anyone off to keep his son’s name out of the reaping bowl—he believed that was a dirty and cowardly thing to do—but he never thought art would get reaped, either. art is put on a train with his district partner, a seventeen year old girl named coira sobek, and they are whisked off to the capitol. coira becomes protective of art, warding off the worst of the attention he receives from the capitol elite and drawing it to herself.

art becomes a capitol favorite incredibly quickly. they’ve never seen a tribute from four that’s his age before, and everyone wants to know what his plan is once he gets into the arena. art’s honesty with the citizens of panem wins him sponsor after sponsor, a fact that he and coira will take advantage of in the games. art’s interview—where he talks of his family and not wanting to let them down—earns him the most money he’s ever gotten in his life.

he scores an eight in his training evaluation. it’s a feat that only serves to impress the capitol more. mags tells him to capitalize on the fact that he’s young and easily overlooked once he gets to the arena, and art listens and does so. on the day before the hunger games, he and coira stay up late, strategizing and planning who to go after first. art will lure their prey into secluded areas and keep them there, and coira will take care of them from there.

games

the arena for the 63rd hunger games was a flat, barren landscape with very little cover to hide. there were holes in the ground and cliffs with caves in them, but most of the tributes didn’t know how to scale the cliffs well enough to get to the caves, and the holes weren’t deep enough to provide any sort of hiding place. torrential rain would occur every day at the same time. it never rained long enough to fill the arena.

art and coira’s plan worked for the first three days. coira killed both tributes from twelve and ten, the male tribute from eleven and the female tribute from six in those first three days. on the fourth day, they were cornered by the male tribute from district two. coira distracted him so art could get away. he still regrets running to this day. he didn’t know what happened to her until the cannons went off that night. coira and the district two tribute were dead, along with the female tribute from seven, the male tribute from six and both tributes from district nine.

art hid as best he could over the next four days. most of the remaining tributes picked each other off. art had found a hole deep enough to hide in, and he left it only to get food and water. on the eighth day, he killed the male tribute from seven, both tributes from eight, and the female tribute from eleven. the tributes from five were killed by the female tribute from district one and the female tribute from district two. art managed to kill the male tribute from district three on the ninth day. on the tenth day, the female tribute from one killed the female tribute from three. art, the district one tributes, and the female tribute from district two were the only four tributes remaining.

the final fight lasted three days. the district one tributes cornered the female tribute from district two and killed her, and then they went after art. he still doesn’t know how he killed them, but he was standing with two dead bodies at his feet on the thirteenth day. he was crowned the victor of the 63rd hunger games two days later.

post games

after being crowned victor, all art wanted to do was go home and see his parents. he was told he couldn’t do that. there were people that wanted to see him and congratulate him on his victory. he stayed in the capitol for a week following his victory. at the end of that week, he was summoned by president snow. the president told art that he couldn’t leave the capitol. if he left, snow said, his parents would be killed. art didn’t want that, did he? art, even at thirteen, recognized blackmail when he saw it. snow wanted him to stay and train some more. they were implementing a new program, he said. capitol members could pay to see victors and spend time with them. art didn’t like the sound of that, but he agreed. it wasn’t bad at first. as he got older, he realized what he’d agreed to. no one laid a hand on him until he was sixteen, but that didn’t make it any better.

he was allowed to return to district four to mentor, but he was not allowed to see his family. when he was eighteen, he mentored johanna barker. she went on to win the 68th hunger games. they’d fallen in love during the mentorship and art made the mistake of kissing her when she returned from the arena. the capitol was crushed, and art and johanna had to scramble to sort out their feelings and what this meant for their relationship.

they were outed as a couple on johanna’s victory tour and married in secret shortly after her victory tour ended. johanna was sent for by her guardian, turpin. art was adamant that she refuse to go. they decided to flee to district thirteen in the hopes that he would give up. art went first, intending to see how safe the district was and then he would return for johanna. that plan went awry, however. one of art’s clients, patrick zweig, had noticed that art was missing. he told snow, and snow had johanna brought to turpin in the capitol as punishment for art’s disobedience.

art returns to the capitol with a small team to save johanna. they return to thirteen and attempt to heal. while in thirteen, art takes up cooking again. he also teaches the younger members of the district how to wield a knife. when the rebellion comes around, art and johanna help as much as they can.

when the 75th hunger games happens, art is reaped. he knows it’s a punishment from snow and patrick for leaving. he’s part of haymitch’s plan to get katniss and peeta out of the arena and transport them to thirteen. the plan goes off as smoothly as it can, but he always regrets not being able to save peeta. art storms the capitol with the rest of katniss’ team and he lives to return to johanna and district thirteen.

art learns that he has a daughter, lily, from one of his former clients. he and johanna take her in and dote on her as much as they can. when the rebellion is over, the three of them return to district four. art’s parents are still alive and he visits them for the first time in twelve years.

art and johanna eventually welcome two girls, canary and mavis donaldson, into their family. all three girls are loved beyond measure, and art and johanna are working to ensure their daughters never have to endure the horrors they did.

[tumblingghosts]

ahhhh victor mizzen <3

i'm gonna drop a bunch of thoughts about him bc i'm thinking of victor mizzen now :,)

coral dies to the snakes like in the book, mizzen is able to get to relative safety up the pole, and teslee still attacks him with drones in the aftermath for refusing to helping her

only this time, mizzen doesn't lose his balance

same set of events where treech kills teslee while she's distracted with controlling the drones, lucy gray kills treech with the snakes, and it's down to the final three

mizzen climbs down from the pole to eat his sponsor gifts

it's a bit of a stalemate since lucy gray knows she's at a disadvantage now that the snake is dead & reaper isn't inclined to kill anyone at the moment

mizzen has more than enough supplies from persephone to last for another day or so, but lucy gray also gets food from coriolanus, so it's a waiting game

reaper is the next to die (succumbing to rabies rather than lucy gray poisoning the puddle)

at the final two, mizzen realizes that if he tries to wait it out, lucy gray (given her popularity) will have much more sponsor money/food

mizzen goes after her and takes her down with the trident

and that's it. he's won.

persephone gets to see him (briefly) before he's sent back to d4 and he is very much Not Okay in the aftermath

she's pretty disturbed seeing mizzen like that and she has a "what have i done" moment at all of the strategizing and interviews

mizzen isn't coping well back home & isolates himself

coriolanus still caught cheating so to d12 he goes

sejanus is also assigned peacekeeper duty, but without coriolanus's connection to lucy gray, he doesn't end up talking to billy taupe & doesn't have an in with spruce

strabo plinth probably buys sejanus's way back to the capitol by the end of the summer (which he is not happy about)

without coriolanus sending gaul the jabberjay, she doesn't exactly have a reason to follow up with him (so in d12 he stays until he manages to get to d2 from the officer exam)

meanwhile, persephone is also having a rough time coping with the aftermath of the games and the guilt she feels

mags is still reaped for the 11th games (and persephone blames herself for it- surprisingly it wasn't rigged, just bad luck, but persephone doesn't know that)

(i'm going with the headcanon mags & mizzen are siblings)

mags does not win the games in this series of events bc coriolanus isn't there to "suggest" more changes to the games & the old arena does not give mags the advantages that a more open arena would have provided

mizzen is having a Bad Time (grieving)

persephone is having a Bad Time (guilt)

good(?) news is that the 11th games being brutal and short means that the "excitement" that the 10th games have brought for the hunger games is fizzling out

taking advantage of the dying interest, persephone, sejanus, and lysistrata are pushing for the end of the games + festus to support persephone and dragging felix along with him

felix gets highbottom to Do Something (bc they're gossip buddies, as per the book <3) and, motivated by his severe guilt, gaul's lab explodes with her still inside (oh no! :P)

really, no one was pushing for the games to continue as hard as gaul so it's less a matter of "canceling the games" and more a matter of "no one was around to organize the 12th"

persephone tries to get in contact with mizzen but he's not in any state to talk with her so soon after his sister died (there's definitely an element of "the games ended, but not soon enough to save her?")

in the meantime, persephone & co. spend the next years (after the games are gone) pushing for better conditions in the districts

i do like to think that persephone and mizzen have a reunion further down the line when they're older and gained perspective in different ways (it's still a bit of a somber meeting)

(also, unrelated sad thought about if both mags and mizzen were victors- what if mags volunteered for annie in the 75th and mizzen volunteered for finnick ;-;)

thinking about victor!mizzen today

[liptonsbabe]

I was wondering if you can do a request with Finnick Odair and my oc/me (Hannah). You don’t have to use my name, but it’s Hannah if you do. So here’s some backstory. So Hannah’s father is a district 1 victor of the hunger games, her mother is a stylist and her father lived in the capital now due to district 1’s privileges. Hannah was born and raised in the capital, but was taunt by her parents to be anti hunger games, due to her father being in the games and seeingnn the horrors along with being traumatized by seeing them when she was 8. So her and finnick met while her mother was his stylist in the games. They became friends and caught feelings when they were 16. She was one of the only person who knew the truth about his “many lovers” and she was there to help him through it. They started dating when they were 19 and when they were 21 (just after the 72nd games), they were able to sneak Hannah back on the train with them into district 4. The capital tried to get her back, but since this was great publicity and stuff, they just left it because it wasn’t as important and they could also profit off their relationship, as well as also continuing to see finnick. So I was thinking you can write something pretty recently after Hannah arrived to district 4, so maybe at first people don’t really like her because she’s privileged and from the capital, so maybe finnick tries to reassure her. And maybe you can do some cute things where they have a romantic walk along the docks and maybe it can end with them playing in the water after Hannah fell in.

I just thought it’d be something cute

We Remain [F.O]

Finnick Odair x reader

Word count: 2.7K

Warnings: Snow's a motherf*cker so yeah, he did awful things to Finnick

A/N: Very first request! hope you like it hun. My box are still open for request! English not my mother language so please let me know if something's wrong. Enjoy!

"So, what are you doing here?" Finnick sat down next to you on the thick warm sand startling you by his sudden arrival. You had been sitting on the shore of the beach for a couple of hours now and Finnick kept watching you from the dock not wanting to interrumpt your thoughts.

He knew you were not comfortable in his district. You told him how much you loved the ocean, seeing the sun reflected on the water in the mornings and the beautiful view from the lookout point, yet there was something that didn't make you feel at home.

You slumped your shoulders as Finnick slipped his arm over them giving you a small smile. Your eyes focused on the calm, deep blue sea in front of you. The sun was about to set creating strange shapes in the remaining waves and you kept your gaze fixed on them trying to find them some form.

Finnick sighed pressing you against him. Your body trembled from the closeness which made him smile. Finnick was damn cocky and he loved the effect he had on you. He kissed your hair waiting for his question to be answered. You closed your eyes, shaking your head.

"I...I was thinking."

"About what?"

"About home. I mean...in everything that was left behind."

Finnick nodded thinking you must miss your district terribly. You were born and raised in the capitol thanks to your father winning his games, but your home was always district one. Even if you never saw district one in your life, the stories your parents told about it created in your mind a sense of having a place where you truly belonged.

Your parents raised you to hate the hunger games. It wasn't a tradition, it was a massacre, a terrifying event that disgusted them and they didn't want you to grow up believing that taking children to the reaping every year and watching them die in a bloodbath was what was meant to happen, so, at their peril, your parents managed to get your name out of the urn every year to save your life permanently.

Then, when your mother became the stylist for the winner of the 65th hunger games everything became easier. You met Finnick and he became a protective shield against the capitol. He was only fourteen when he won the games so Finnick spent most of his time at your house in the company of your father. Then in the following years Finnick became a mentor to the new tributes and your father was always by his side creating between the two of you a very strong bond.

Sometimes, when he spent the nights at your house he escaped from his bedroom and went to yours just to talk sitting in your bed while you were eating snacks. You told him about district one and how much you would like to visit there someday and he told you how wonderful district four was and how he spent his evenings before he was the brightest star in Panem. Almost every night you met to talk and when he turned sixteen he stopped knocking at your door.

At first you didn't understand why he stopped visiting. No calls, no texts, no explanations why he didn't come to your house anymore. Until one day, as you were taking a walk downtown you heard the insidious gossips around him.

"Did you enjoy your night with Finnick Odair?" a woman asked another as they enjoyed a warm evening at the diner. Your footsteps stopped behind them feeling your heart skip a beat as you heard Finnick's name on her red lips. The woman let out a giggle waving her open hand next to her face trying to cover her blush.

"He's amazing! Oh my god, dear, it's... it's splendid. Really, he's worth it."

"What does he want in return?" the other woman asked. You felt your face turn green with disgust.

"Secrets. A very good one. One that will trace your path to the stars..."

You walked away from there as fast as you could avoiding remembering the words of those two women. For god's sake, Finnick was only sixteen, he was a kid and he was leading an adult life. It was disgusting. You came home with tears in your eyes and your breath hitching. Your mother squeezed your shoulders but you couldn't speak, you were too confused for that. You mumbled something your mother didn't understand and you ran off to your room not noticing that Finnick had met with your father that afternoon and was watching you from the open door of your dad's office.

Tears streamed down your face as you closed the door. You were speechless. Finnick had left you aside after sharing so many late night talks in his company, so many smiles and so many dreams only to lead a life like the rest of the people in the capitol. The glory and the power had finally brought out the worst in him and you couldn't hate the capitol any more than you already did.

You heard a couple of knocks on your door followed by a "(Y/N), are you okay?" from Finnick's voice. Your cries subsided waiting for him to leave, but that didn't happen, instead he persisted until he heard a response from you.

"I'm fine" you replied with a broken voice. You imagined Finnick frowning.

"Are you sure?" he asked. You listened as he tried to turn the doorknob, but you had locked it in "I saw you coming. I was talking with your dad about some stuff and i thought something had happened to you, may I come in?"

"No!" you replied. Your tears threatening to come out again "I'm-I'm fine, okay? I don't need you. Go away."

Finnick was silent for a moment, nevertheless, he kept trying to turn the knob

"(Y/N) let me in."

"didn't you hear me? I want you to leave. Now."

"Not until you open the door."

"You'll stay there, then"

"If that's what i have to do..."

You walked to your bed sitting on it crying silently. Your heart was aching. Deep down you felt something was going on between you and Finnick, something that went beyond the friendship you both proclaimed, but the blindfold had fallen off your eyes as you listened to those women talk about Finnick like he was a piece of meat. You didn't know what was going on, you didn't understand it either and Finnick was just there playing innocent. Finnick turned the knob one more time.

"Well, this makes me think you don't trust me enough like I thought you did."

Crying gave way to annoyance to that point. You jumped to your feet, glancing towards the door imagining Finnick's contracted face on the other side

"Look who's saying it."

"I don't understand."

"Stop pretending, Finnick"

"I don't know what I'm supposed to be pretending" His voice sounded so calm it made you rage. You walked over to the door "I just want to know what happened so I can help you. That's what friends do, isn't it?

"So we're friends now? After you left without explanation we're friends? We're friends even though you didn't tell me what the hell were you doing with your oh-so-many-lovers?"

Finnick was silent for a long time making you think he just left, but then you heard a deep sigh and the creak of the wood as he leaned his body against the door

"So you know it."

You frowned, opening the door with a smash taking him by surprise. Your eyes were bloodshot from crying and pent up anger. Finnick had never seen you so upset

"So you know it, that's all you're going to say?"

"I can explain"

"Then it's true. What I heard..."

"No, no" he denied walking into your room closing it with his foot. You walked backwards trying to get away from him. Finnick knew about the rumors about him in the capitol, he never cared what they were saying about him, but he did care about what you had heard and how you might miunderstand it "It's true. What you said..."

"You're sixteen, for God's sake!" you shouted, disgusted "How-how can you...?"

"It's not how you're imagining it. They're making me do it."

"Yeah, right."

"It's true" Finnick answered approaching you and caressing your cheeks. He connected his eyes with yours and you managed to see a crystalline layer in them "It's true, (Y/N)"

"What?" you asked, horrified. Finnick closed his eyes, pursed his lips and nodded "But how? who?"

"President Snow."

"Why?"

"He'll kill my family if I don't do what he asks."

Your mind went blank. Finnick opened his eyes pearly with tears.

"But, you don't have a family."

Finnick smiled.

"You are my family" Your heart raced "Ever since my games...you and your parents became an important part of my life. You've given me a home, a place where I know I'm welcome, a place where i know all of you don't care what I am, but what I was before I was a victor and what's left of me since then. Snow threatened to harm you and your parents."

"Really?"

"Really. He knows how important you are for me" His breath collided against your lips in a stormy closeness "There is no one I care more about. That's why I had to accept. It's not easy for me, I hate what I became, but I had no choice (Y/N), I swear"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Finnick took a few steps away, ducking his eyes.

"I was too embarrassed. I still am. At some point I would have told you, of course, but I wasn't... I wasn't ready, I'm still not."

"Finnick..."

"I'm sorry for disappointing you."

He tried to leave your room but you stopped him squeezing him in a tight embrace that take your breath away. Finnick squeezed your body tightly lifting your feet off the floor.

"You didn't have to" you whispered. He denied

"I have to and I will. I'm not going to let them hurt you or your parents. What happens to me doesn't matter as long as you're safe."

"God, Finnick, I love you so much."

You broke apart instantly, you were so embarrassed by what you had just said and Finnick were shocked in surprise. Your cheeks grew hot and you were about to run away if it wasn't for Finnick's lips that pressed against yours in a small kiss. Finnick smiled

"I love you too."

.

Even after you confessed to each other you couldn't have a romantic relationship, at least not in public. Finnick had to continue obeying Snow's orders and you tried not to interfere to damage him even more, so the only ones who knew about you were your parents and Maggs, Finnick's old friend.

He came back to visit you at night in your room, you talked about anything that came to your mind (except about Finnick's many lovers) and, one night, he told you every secret he knew.

"Why are you telling me all this?" you asked him, watching your intertwined hands. You were both nineteen at the time and the secrets Finnick had obtained were too many. He smiled

"No one lives forever" he replied "Someday the advantage I have against Snow will turn against me and if that ever happens I need someone else to tell the truth for me"

"That's not going to happen"

He shrugged his shoulders

"You never know"

.

When Finnick saw the opportunity to leave the capitol after the hunger games where the tributes from district twelve put on a show and unleashed the wrath of President Snow, he didn't hesitate twice in proposing to take you with him to district four.

He put together a plan to hide you on the train until you passed district three where you were out of the president's reach. You weren't sure if it was a good idea, but your parents encouraged you to run away saying it was the safest place you could be. You were still unsure about it because you knew that your parents' lives would be in danger if Snow found out, however, your father assured you that they would be fine, the capitol wouldn't touch them and you could leave with Finnick and start a new life. You accepted then, sneaking onto the train that left for district four the next morning.

Of course, Snow was informed of your scape weeks later when you and Finnick managed to successfully settle in a house away from the victors' village. Neither of you wanted to live under the government roof and Finnick took a small place near the coast, where you received an unwelcome letter from the president asking you to return immediately to the capitol before the consequences became severe. Finnick replied for you, saying in a single paragraph that he didn't agree with that.

"I have a mind full of secrets. It doesn't suit you for me to become an open book. (Y/N) won't come back and neither will I."

Snow calmed down. Finnick seemed very pleased by that and things calmed down a bit. But there, in the utter calm of the sea, you still felt something was missing.

Finnick rubbed your arms as the sun went down and the moon appeared. The days in district four were too hot and the nights too cold, it was hard to get used to the change, even more so when no one in the district seemed to feel comfortable with your presence.

You could tell by the looks of the women on the shore and the angry faces of the fishermen. For them you were an intruder, a privileged one who had never had to suffer what their children did every year during the reaping cause your father, being a victor, had saved your ass. To them you were a coward, a disgrace and a pest who shouldn't have made it all the way to district four.

Finnick kissed your temple enjoying the silence of the newly arrived night. You sighed thinking about how much Finnick lost when he met you. His freedom, his decision about his body, the affection of the people in his district, his home in the village and so many other things you didn't want to remember. Finnick clicked his tongue, rubbing your arms again.

"Stop thinking, love."

"I can't. This all feels like a dream, a very... devastating one."

"You know what people think or don't think about us is something you can't change."

"Yes, but I would like to show them that I am more than they think, I am more than the daughter of someone who survived the hell of the games. Let them know that my presence doesn't represent a mockery to their dead children in the arena, that I am not a bad person."

"And you're not. Give them time. They're not bad either. They are against the system just like us, at some point they will realize we are on their side. Don't worry about it, I won't let anyone minimize you or make you feel bad. I'm going to protect you, okay? That's what we do, protect each other."

"You promise?"

"I promise. Now come on sweetie, let's take a walk" Finnick lifted you up easily taking your hand to walk across the sand. Finnick's hand against yours brought you security and a relief you couldn't explain. As you walked you rested your head on his shoulder and he hugged you close to him "We'll be fine, (Y/N), just... trust me"

"As always."

"Fair enough."

Then Finnick pulled your hand into the cold water of the sea splashing you in the face. You played back at him and the two of you ended up having a little fight in the middle of the sea. Finnick reached over, grabbed you around the waist and brushed your lips together.

"We'll be fine," he said. You nodded

"We'll be fine."

[everlarkficexchange]

Like The Stars Hold The Moon

Written By : @katnissmellarkkkk

Prompt 59 :  "Katniss dad is a victor, he won his hunger games and is a mentor. Peeta is reaped for the games and Katniss begs her dad to help him win the games. [submitted by anonymous]“

Hi! It feels like there’s so much I need to say here and I can’t remember any of it now! This is obviously–if you read the summary, which I assume you did and that’s why you’re here hahaha–an EFE prompt. It was submitted by an anonymous person, so I don’t know specifically if this is what you wanted but I really hope this is good enough that you’ll be fulfilled?

I don’t think there is much more to say? I hope everyone who reads this has a good day! I wrote plenty of this on Easter so I’d like to thank Jesus for rising again. And I feel like the prompt alone is a sufficient summary but just so you know, this heavily features Katniss, Peeta (obvi), Haymitch and Katniss’ father, Hunter (I named him, that’s not canon, I know).

This fic I likely going to be a three-shot with an opportunity for a sequel three-shot. Oh and also, thank you to the anon who sent the prompt!

Oh and this got really long, so I’m just going to submit the first part on here and then I’ll add a link at the bottom to continue reading on AO3. I’ve never done this before so I don’t know if I’m doing it right?

Okay, if you read all my talking, bye now!

Rated T for the canon violence. 

At the reaping for the Forty-Seventh Hunger Games, Matty Knick drew out the names of a ”very special boy“ and ”a very special girl“ from the reaping bowls. She read them off in a bright voice and matched the sentiment with an out of place perky smile. The girl’s name was Heather Branch.

And the boy’s was Hunter Everdeen.

Of course, everyone knows the story of Hunter Everdeen.

/

Year of the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games.

"So Hunter,” Caesar Flickerman leans toward the victor, absolutely electrified, and says, “tell us, tell us. How excited are you for the games this year?”

The camera focuses in on gray eyes, the color of a storm cloud or a cleanly polished knife. Dangerous and hard and cunning.

Or protective and frightful and angry.

Or warm and loving and kind.

“I’m about as excited as I always am, Caesar,” he shoots back, not a trace of even so much as a smirk on his face. Not even so much as a lift from the corner of his mouth.

And still, the crowd of Capitol idiots burst out in laughter, as if they just heard the funniest joke in the world, as if this was Hunter’s desired response to the words.

As if the conversation wasn’t about teenagers—and some as young as twelve—killing other teenagers.

“And what about you, Haymitch?” Caesar asks next, segueing from one aggravated man to another.

“I’m looking forward to the free drinks,” Haymitch says while tipping back dark gold colored liquid into his mouth. Almost as an afterthought, he gestures wide and sloppy to the crowd, igniting cacophonous sounds from the population once more. “And of course, the social interaction with all you lovely people.”

No one in the audience recognizes the insult. No one understands the blatant sarcasm at their expense.

Here in District Twelve though, we do. As exemplified by Peeta’s laugh, vibrating against my back. “Shh,” I hush, laser focused on the enormous television screen before us.

“Daddy’s not speaking anymore,” Prim reminds me from the other room, where she’s currently flipping through a magazine our father sent.

“Well, be quiet before he does,” I snap, elbowing Peeta when he rolls his eyes now. “Stop it, I haven’t seen him in weeks,” I complain, fixing him with a fierce glare.

“I know,” he murmurs agreeably, gently kissing my temple. “But he’ll be home in a few days.”

As if they could hear our exchange from inside the television box, Caesar turns his attention back to my father. “Hunter, how excited are you to get home to District Twelve?”

At that, his eyes genuinely light up with ferocity. “I’m counting the minutes,” he replies, but still manages to keep his tone cool. He adamantly refuses to give away his true emotion to even a single soul in the Capitol. It’s his way of withholding power from their greedy, glitter covered hands.

But I see the change in him. Prim, from her position against the doorframe, sees it. I’m positive my mother, who’s watching with our brother from the comfort of our house sees it as well.

Our father’s eyes are now alive again, the permanent frown his mouth resides in on every televised appearance loosens a bit, his brows aren’t knit so closely together any longer.

Caesar Flickerman sees the change too evidently.

“Look at those silver coins!” He bellows, gesturing for the cameras to put my father in a close up now. “They just lit up like the stars when talking about home. Tell me, Hunter Everdeen, how’s the family back in District Twelve?”

At that, my father makes a considerable effort to transform his entire expression into a mask of indifference. “They’re good,” he states evenly, his tone clipped. Making it blatant to even the airheaded Capitol citizens that he refuses to speak publicly about his family.

“Because you’re not property of the Capitol, baby,” he told me once, while on a walk in the woods. “You’re not anyone’s property.”

“What about you and mommy?”

“You’re our responsibility, but not our property.” He’d knelt down to my height, which happened to be the shortest in my second grade class. “Property implies ownership, Katniss. And no one owns you. No one owns you or your sister. Remember that for me. And never let yourself forget it.”

“You’re daughters are both old enough for the reaping, am I right?” Caesar presses further, and my sister and I automatically sigh. Knowing the response that’s bound to come.

“What’s wrong?” Peeta asks, as he still remains completely clueless. I shake my head instead of offering an explanation though, leaning further into his chest.

Peeta won’t understand. He was raised in town by merchants—the owners of the bakery, to be specific. He’s never understood the fierce protectiveness, the instantaneous fury, the irrational tunnel vision, that appears when a victor’s child is mentioned entering the games.

Peeta’s never even met my father. I’m not impatient by any stretch of the imagination to put the two of them in the same room, to watch my father chew my boyfriend up and devour him alive, to abide by his rules and regulations that will surely come with dating.

He doesn’t know Peeta and I have even so much as shaken hands. I’ve never so much as left him even the slightest hint. Not even when I’ve accompanied him to the bakery for the occasional trade with Peeta’s father, the baker himself.

Like both Prim and I predicted, our father is now on edge, his breathing uneven and his nostrils flaring. “Yes. Both my girls are of age,” he says after a long beat, his tone hard and jagged.

Caesar though is either oblivious or is extraordinarily practiced at appearing obtuse. “Well, wouldn’t it be something if either of them were chosen for the games? Am I right?” He directs his questions to the audience. “Don’t we all love a family story?” His words elicit cheers and hollers and a murderous glint in my father’s silver eyes. The camera only catches it for a moment’s time before quickly flitting away, towards the much more enjoyable image of the Captiolites chattering like chipmunks at the very idea.

And suddenly I feel Peeta’s arm tighten around me, the vision of me—the only person in the world he’s certain that he loves—being taken away from our home here in Twelve and tossed into an arena with kids twice her size, too much for even his naïve mind.

“Don’t we all believe in Mr. Everdeen,” the talk show host continues to push and I feel my typical annoyance with the odd man bleed into anger. “I mean, he brought home Mr. Abernathy here.” And with one single hand gesture from Caesar, the entire interview’s focus re-centers on Haymitch.

And unlike my father, he doesn’t even miss a beat before replying.

“Barely,” he mutters with a last swig of his drink, cleaning the glass. “And he was stingy with the gifts.”

Next to him, my father relaxes a bit. Haymitch always brings out a bit of levity in him, even on his worst days.

After all, in my father’s eyes, the paunchy drunk is a symbol of hope.

Haymitch is the only person my father’s ever brought him. He’s the only other living victor inside the confines of Twelve.

Not to mention his closest friend.

And my surrogate uncle, I note, a bit ironically. Haymitch and I have a far different relationship than he has with anyone else in my family but he’s always been there, has known me since the day I was born, often has dinner at our house, rain or shine, no matter how much he annoys my mother, and he’s an irreplaceable member of my family.

The audience is still riled up from Haymitch and howling with laughter—a bit too much, in my opinion—but my father can’t let the subject of his children go before adding one last sentiment.

“Don’t worry, Caesar. If either of my girls are reaped, trust me,” he states, louder and far more pronounced than anything else he’s said the entire interview. “They will be the victor. There’s not a tribute in the arena that would survive against my girl.”

/

For as long as I can remember, my father had taken me to the woods. He sometimes claims the first time he looked down at me in my mother’s arms, at a mere two days old, he saw a familiar hunger in my eyes.

Not a hunger for food. District Twelve is the smallest and the poorest in the country of Panem, but luckily, my family is one of the richest.

Unlike my schoolmates, I’ve never once had to worry about having enough to eat for lunch. My parents never worried that we’d starve to death or that Prim and I could be taken from their grasp by authorities. They never worried about supplying us with whatever we needed—they gave us more than we ever could have wanted—and they never had to fret that we’d be sent to the mines for work one day.

No, we were far too wealthy and far too famous for any of that.

But my parents had a far different batch of worries to keep them up at night. Not about food or finances or anything remotely common in Twelve.

No, they had to worry about cameras peaking into the privacy of our home and photos being taken without our knowledge and my face or Prim’s face being splashed across every magazine and newspaper in the country.

They worried about the almost insatiable thirst the Capitol seems to have for more family dynamics among the victors.

Especially after the recent back-to-back sibling victories led the hunger games to higher ratings and revenues in the Capitol.

When I was a child, my mother coached me to never go into town without my father by my side. Which sounds easy enough, until my father’s extensive vacations to the Capitol are taken into consideration. For as long as I can remember, my father would leave at random stretches of time, for weeks on end. To go play puppet for a population so dumb, so completely isolated from the rest of the country, that they took his anger for sarcasm. They took his bite as charm. They believed his glare was an act, was part of his appeal, when in reality my father had rebelled against performing for the last twenty-seven years.

When he was gone, our lives became strict. Bedtimes came earlier, curtains remained drawn day in and day out, our mother never wanted to sing or dance or even so much as smile with her husband gone.

But when he was home, sunshine peaked in our windows again. It danced on the floor and it swept us away with its gentle affection.

There was music and laughter and sweets and toys. He never returned from the Capitol empty-handed. He brought back expensive jewels for our mother, he built me and Prim a fancy treehouse in the backyard, put up a large, golden swing-set, went as far as purchasing as many cakes and breads as he could hold from the Mellark Bakery.

Peeta’s parents bakery.

Since I was two, further back than I can even retain, my father would take me out to the woods, would hold my hand and tell me old stories of District Twelve’s past, detail insane urban legends, teach me about plants and berries and trees and the direction of the wind.

And for as long as I can remember, I idolized him. He was so confident and so charismatic and so kind. For as long as I could remember, I wanted to be exactly like him when I grew up. It felt like an honor to me that I received far more his end of the gene line than my mother’s. She was regarded as a beauty in her youth, but he was one of the most magnificent people in the country. Having his coloring and the same silver eyes felt like a special gift, awarded every single time someone marveled at how similar we appear.

But my father was gone often and the unpredictable lengths of his stays in the large, foreign city was one of the only constants my family ever knew. So it really came as no surprise when my mother phoned the cabin only minutes after Caesar’s interview was over.

“I’ll get it,” Prim says flatly after a moment, throwing a sardonic glance at me and Peeta on the couch. Now in a much different entanglement than we had been while watching the talk-show.

“Thanks,” I murmur unintelligibly against Peeta’s mouth, before closing my eyes in pleasure.

“Don’t strain yourselves,” she can’t stop herself from tacking on the end.

“We’ll try not to while you’re still here,” Peeta murmurs cheekily, moving his lips downwards, towards my neck, right onto my pulse point. I let out a somewhat ridiculous squeak in response.

“Hello?” Prim says lightly into the receiver, already knowing it’s our mother. No one else calls this phone, inside this hidden cabin, located in the woods surrounding Twelve.

The woods in which officials fenced off years ago. The woods in which it’s illegal to enter. The woods in which my father has taken me to hunt for families less fortunate than ours since I was a small infant.

It’s not a typical cabin found in the outskirts of Twelve. No, ordinarily a cabin out here—a cabin anywhere in Panem, really—is nothing more than a broken down shack. There’s normally nothing other than an unsteady foundation, a freezing damp floor and an unlit fireplace.

But somewhere along the lines, in the years before I was born, my parents resurrected this place from the depths of despair and expanded it, rebuilt it, refurnished and redecorated and turned it into a vast, warm, safe second home for all of us to run away to when we felt the need.

Prim listens into the receiver for a long moment before she sighs deeply and beckons me. “Katniss, can you?”

Instantly, I break away from Peeta’s embrace, cupping his face and pulling him back from my collarbone.

“What’s wrong?” I ask as I scramble off the couch, my anxiety abruptly spiked. “Did something happen?” I search Prim’s eyes as I take the phone from her but, to my utter relief, all I find there is blatant, unmasked disappointment.

I already know what my mother is going to say before I put the phone to my ear. “Hi?”

“Hi, honey,” she murmurs, her voice both strained and higher than typical. Which indicates she’s trying to put up a front for us right now, when she’d rather be moping in bed. “Your father just called. Evidently Effie Trinket informed him he has more scheduled commitments to fulfill before he can come home.”

I deflate, already prepard, knowing this was coming. Isn’t it always coming inadvertently? My father has never been home when he was scheduled to be in my life. No matter the holiday, the birthday, the emergency or event, the Capitol demands that they comes first to him. Not even my birth could upstage his commitments. He wasn’t allowed to return home to Twelve, to meet his firstborn child, until his press events were done and over with.

It’s no wonder he refuses to put on show for those people.

“Okay,” I mumble after a moment, not even convinced my mother is even still there on the other end.

“It’ll be alright,” she says, as positively as she can. “He’ll be home as soon.”

“Yeah.” I try and fail miserably to match her tone. I inherited my father’s ability to act. Or inability, that is.

There’s the faint sound of crying in the background, and my heart aches a bit. “I’m sorry, honey, I have to go check on Archer,” she apologizes as a way of saying goodbye.

I make my way into the kitchen as soon as we hang up. Prim is standing by the counter, staring at the same magazine our father sent three weeks ago.

Peeta comes up behind me then, his hand rubbing my back in comforting circles. “Your father delayed again?”

I nod silently, as my eyes focused on my little sister now. She’s trying her best to hold back the upset that’s threatening to take over.

And without hesitation, my instincts to protect my family from anything and everything painful kick in. “Prim, it’s okay. It’s probably only going to be another week before he’s back,” I console, stepping closer to her small frame and touching her back.

It’s all the initiation she needs before spinning around into my arms and clinging onto me tight. “He’s never around,” she cries into my neck—I’m not much taller than her—as her shoulders shake with tears.

I feel Peeta’s eyes on me, measuring my reaction to Prim’s words. He’s heard me cry the same thing time and time again, he knows the familiarity of this scene better than anyone should.

“He tries his best, Prim,” I whisper thickly into her long, blonde hair. She’s fair and light, like our mother. Like a merchant or peacekeeper. Looking at my little sister, you’d never consider her to be the daughter of a man from the Seam.

But you’d easily believe that she was a girl raised in Victor’s Village and I suppose that’s what counts. Where we were raised and not where we could have been, if things had gone different.

“He’s never really going to be ours though,” she weeps and I don’t have words to comfort her now. Because she’s right.

Our father will always belong to the Capitol, first and foremost.

And not even his children can upstage that.

/

Prim leaves not long later, to head home to Victor’s Village and more than likely curl up with our mother for the night. They’ve both always been so alike, so much softer and more hopeful than me. I half expect every trip of our father’s to double in time, if not triple. After a lifetime of disappointments, I can’t help but prepare myself.

It’s not that they’re weak for believing. It’s that I have too much Hunter Everdeen in me. I have too much pessimism crawling inside my bones to ever fully trust that he’s really coming home until he’s already stepped off the train in Twelve.

Too many hours of my childhood were spent, wearing fancy stockings and warm, fur-lined coats, standing at the train station, only to welcome a load of cargo and no father in sight. Too many times were phone calls answered in tears. Too many night spent crying, clinging to my father’s hunting jacket, so disoriented by the hazardous schedule in which our lives were ran, waiting for my father to phone, waiting for him to walk through the front door, waiting for him to sneak up on us in the middle of the night or pull us from class on a school day.

That was the true constant in my life. Waiting for my father to finally come home, knowing every moment we shared was on borrowed time. Knowing that he’d never truly belong to us. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting to hear my mother’s bedroom door slam and lock, waiting to hear Prim cry or Archer wail, waiting to see that defeated glint in my father’s slate gaze.

I close the cabin door behind my sister now, knowing with confidence that she’ll make it home alright, even with the sun currently setting in the faded blue sky.

Our father never took Prim hunting like he did me, never brought her out to the woods and taught her to shoot a bow and arrow, never showed her how to trap and kill an animal. But even still, the path from the cabin to our home in Victor’s Village is imprinted in our brains, like a birthmark or tattoo. We’d be able to find our way to and from, even if we were sleepwalking.

As would Peeta. Considering this is the place he spends the majority of his time.

Considering this cabin may as well be his permanent address.

And if it weren’t illegal, it very well might be, I think to myself wryly as I walk over to where he’s leaning against the doorframe now.

“Hello,” I greet again, hopping onto my tiptoes and kissing his lips lightly.

He grasps my hips, smiling against my mouth. “Don’t you have to get home too?” He hesitantly asks, his desire to keep me here bleeding through every caress of his fingers, as they trail underneath my loose shirt, sliding upwards and causing an electric current to ripple through the core of my body.

But I just shake my head at his inquiry, moving my mouth from his to kiss down the side of his face, underneath his jawline.

“Mmm,” he moans after a long moment, before suddenly putting a few more inches between us. “Are you sure your mother won’t miss you?”

Peeta’s always been considerate of my mother. Too considerate sometimes, if I do say so myself. Bordering on obsessive.

He is obsessed with keeping her approval, with never crossing any invisible line, with never even so much as mildly exasperating her.

I suppose it’s only natural though. She is the only parental figure he has in his life.

I’ve never been too enthusiastic to introduce him to my father and he’s never pushed the issue too far. Hunter Everdeen is a practical legend around Twelve—and beloved across the entirety of Panem—but he’s the reason, I’ve always privately felt, that I was isolated from all my classmates.

Sure, I’m already not the most friendly person to start with, in anyone’s book. As Haymitch never hesitates to tell me. But there was already very little chance of me making friends in school anyway. Being the victor of the Forty-Seventh Hunger Games’ child dropped the chances of play-dates or sleepovers drastically. My father trusts no one. Not with his children.

And I didn’t mind for the most part. I’m too like him to enjoy people much anyway. This whole notion was much harder on Prim, who adored her fellow classmates and easily endeared herself to them as well. But no matter how darling my little sister may be, nothing changed our father’s mind and when he was set on something, it was practically written in stone.

I can’t even imagine how Peeta must feel, having to live in fear for the entire last year of our little secret being exposed. I may be nervous about how my father will react, but Peeta has to be outright petrified.

“My mother will be fine,” I murmur, rolling my eyes as I lean back against the wall now. “She’s got Prim and Archie to keep her sane until my father’s home.”

Peeta chuckles at me, a mirthful smile in his eyes. “And you got me,” he teases, tapping my nose with his finger.

I giggle in a way I withheld until Prim left. I wasn’t about to give her ammunition to mock me later on. “All to myself,” I add, matching his expression now. “For unlimited hours of the day.”

“That’s my girl, looking on the bright side.”

I snort. “Yeah, that’s me.” I’m the exact opposite of an optimist. I prefer expecting the worse and setting expectations low. Maybe it’s a learned behavior but, at least that way, I’m not crushed like my mother when things don’t pan out the way I want.

Peeta mistakes the look on my face to be one of hidden disappointment. “You’re father will be home soon, sweetheart. They can’t keep him in the Capitol forever.”

“Can’t they?” I mumble, not expecting an answer. Before he can offer one—because Peeta is nothing if not a fixer—I quickly segue to a new topic. “Where do you think you’ll go when my father does come home?”

He just shrugs the question off though, completely unbothered. “Anywhere but home,” he says simply, his stunning blue eyes clear as the sky they remind me of.

“Anywhere but there,” I agree, my smile twisting into a grimace.

/

A year ago, when I was barely fifteen, President Snow—Panem’s true Gamemaker, my father always said—demanded every victor extend their stay in the Capitol, even after the games ended that year. He gave no outright reason and my father was cagey to speak on the subject, but in the end, the president’s word was law and there was no room for argument. President Snow can demand of us whatever he wishes.

It was a cold, dreary autumn that year, with early snowfall, which was the leading cause to the significant increase in accidents and injuries. My mother, the born healer, had more patients than she could handle, and even while training Prim as her assistant, she required my help. I was to head to town and purchase a list of herbs from the apothecary shop her parents still owned. The people who disowned her, who had little to no interest in her after she married a man from the Seam, victor or not. The people who never cared to meet their own grandchildren, to acknowledge our existence even as we passed right by their shop, in their plain sight.

I was dragging my feet the entire walk there, already with a sour taste in my mouth, when I heard the loudest wail my ears had every registered. When I heard sharp words being screamed out, when the sound of a boy sobbing filled the air.

And my instincts took over, my every sense focused on finding the hurt and helping them, altogether forgoing the trip for my mother’s herbs.

I followed the commotion to the bakery’s backdoor. Right through the open threshold, it was crystal clear, the baker’s wife—the witch, as many of the kids at school referred to her—had beaten her youngest son senselessly.

He’s in my year, I’d realized abruptly, staring with an agape mouth at his bloody face. His eye was swelling and his nose and lip were smeared scarlet and the only thing that crossed my mind at first, was I recognized him as the blonde boy with the colorful notebook, who could never meet my eyes and always wore long sleeves.

Of course, I snapped out of the daze after only a moment. The witch turned and caught sight of me, snapping that no Seam brat was going to get any free handouts from her and to scatter before she called the Peacekeepers.

Something about the unmasked prejudice against the Seam, a place where people in Twelve had next to nothing and were seen as lesser than the merchants, jolted me into action.

“Get your hand off him!” I’d demanded, using my entire body weight, just as my father taught me, to push the door open as she tried to close it in my face. “Let him go or I swear I’ll make you regret it.”

At that, I heard an ugly laugh and the door flew open again, my exerted force throwing it back into the wall.

“I’m serious, child,” she snaps, her blue eyes narrow and her mouth in a snide smirk. “I will call the Peacekeepers to remove you from my shop-”

I didn’t even let her finish. I wasn’t one to be messed with. Not when I just witnessed something awful firsthand, not when I had it in my power to do something.

I knew then I couldn’t bring my father home. He was owned by the president and the Capitol. To an extent, we all were. And I knew I couldn’t stop the games from happening or the possibility of my name being pulled from the reaping bowl. I couldn’t always make my mother come out of her room or even out of her bed, when her illness struck bad. And I couldn’t stop my siblings from crying for our father at night.

But I knew that day in the bakery, I had the power over Mrs. Mellark and I wasn’t going to let her get away with hurting her son anymore.

“Call them,” I dared, not an ounce of insecurity in my voice. “Cray is an old family friend.” He was actually indebted to my father, who’d kept the man’s secrets for too many years to count. But family friend rolled off the tongue more effectively.

“Head Peacekeeper is now making friends in the Seam?” She spat in disbelief. “No wonder this district is so rundown.”

She laughed humorlessly, but my focus was pulled towards the boy. He was covering the left side of his face, as if it hurt too badly to release. As if he was trying to stop his eye from swelling, stop his nose from gushing blood. As if he could hold his now split lip together with nothing more than the palm of his hand.

The sight hurt my heart to see. It burned a fire inside of me that only a true injustice could set alight.

“My father is Hunter Everdeen,” I snapped in the woman’s direction, not even basking in satisfaction when her face drained of all color. The idea that a scrappy little girl with olive skin and dark hair was the child of the most powerful man in all of Twelve struck a cord inside even the witch. “Still wanna make that call?”

The woman’s face was caught between anger and shock when I glanced at her again. And I hated her for it. I hated her and every single person in this district who hurt their kids, who took out their grievances on them, who made them cower and quiver in fear. Who raised them to be afraid of those they loved in a world already so awful.

I know I live a privileged life but, deep in my bones, I know even if things were different, my parents wouldn’t have laid a hand on us. Even if we were so poor I had to take tesserae, even if we were starving to the point of no return, even if we were practically homeless in the Seam, my parents would never hurt us.

“Leave,” the witch spoke then, but her voice was void of all emotion.

“Not without him,” I refused, my eyes planted on the wounded boy in front of me. The boy who was doing everything to avoid looking me in the eye, too busy covering his battered face.

I heard a sound caught between a groan and a shriek, before a cutting board was tossed across the room. “Just go!” She shouted at her son, causing him to flinch severely. “Just go with her!”

On her order, which sounded more distraught than angry, the boy had stormed out the back door and into the chilly evening air, still covering his face desperately, still looking utterly ashamed.

But he waited for me to catch up with him. He waited for me to guide him away from that awful woman he was forced to call his mother.

He didn’t flinch when I touched his arm nor when I took his hand. And when I led him away from the town and towards the village, he followed me without complaint.

Actually, he followed me without a single word.

I realized this just as my house came into view. “You never told me your name?” I whispered, looking up at him gently.

He had tears leaking from his eyes that he was doing his best to ignore, the bleeding on the left side of his face had barely even lightened up, his eye was swelling bigger and bigger, and yet, he chuckled a little at the question. “I’ve been in your class since kindergarten, Katniss.”

I felt my cheeks burn pink, even under the darkening sky. “I know.” But I still peered up at him, curiously waiting for him to tell me.

“It’s Peeta,” he finally answered, maybe a bit satirical.

“Peeta Mellark,” I suddenly recognized.

“Mhmm. Figured you’d pick up the last name.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s printed across the bakery in huge letters?”

“Oh.” He chuckled at my ignorance, causing my blush to deepen.

And I realized immediately how much I liked the sound of his laugh. How I liked being the reason for the sound.

My stomach did a complete flip at the notion and my ears abruptly felt hot, but I tried to push all this away, needing to get him to my mother.

“Wait,” he halted before I could even reached the front door. “Is your mother in there?”

I shot him a confused look. “Yeah, of course? Who else-”

I didn’t even get a chance to finish though. “I really don’t want anyone else to know about this,” he pleads, his eyes looking as frightened as they did with the witch.

“Peeta-” I start, opening my mouth argue, to convince him to go into the house and let my mother treat his injuries. To let me get him help.

But one look inside his desolated, defeated, terrified eyes and I couldn’t make myself do it. I couldn’t put him through any more than he’d already gone through. Not when he’d eventually have to go face the witch again at home.

“Okay,” I whispered, and I felt him squeeze the hand I didn’t realize I was still clutching. “Let me take you somewhere else. And I’ll try to fix you up myself.”

I wasn’t a healer like my mother and Prim. I was a hunter, just like my father, just like his very name, through and through. But I had witnessed enough of what my mother did—my father had forced me to witness enough of what she did, in case I ever needed the knowledge—and I was confident I had the expertise to help him.

My decision was validated by the relief in Peeta’s eyes, by the visible exhale he expelled from inside. He was ashamed, I realized, of his abuse. He was embarrassed to let anyone know what was happening behind closed doors.

I guided him by the hand outside the village, through the Seam—a place in which he’d never been before—and to the fence line.

“Isn’t it electrified?” He asked, his grip on my palm tightening. I liked the sensation for some reason. I liked the way his big hand felt wrapped around my small one. I liked how he wanted to hold onto me in the darkness.

“Nope,” I say, and let out a proud giggle. Or maybe a nervous one. Whenever I think back to this night, I can never tell.

“How do you know?” His blonde eyebrows knit together, still afraid in a way I’d never had to be. My father had taught me everything there was to know about the woods from a young age.

“Listen,” I urge softly, leaning my ear towards the fence.

He cranes forward too, waiting for the buzz of electricity to fill his ears. Only, just as I knew, it never does. Because it never has. The fence’s electricity was shut off long before we were even born.

I watched as his face registered the silence, as he realized and trusted I was right. And I beamed at him, before showing him the way my father slips beyond the fence and guiding him through the trees, towards the cabin, buried deep inside the woods.

It took an hour to find, not because of the blackened sky, but because Peeta’s face hurt so badly that his gait was slowed. But I remained patient, even though that was never my strong suit either. I waited for him to pick up the pace, to be ready to move, to find our way through the tall green trees. I pulled all the branches I could see out of his path, used the moon as our flashlight and didn’t complain once when he stumbled along the way.

By the time we got to the cabin, it had to be past Archer’s bedtime. My mother would be worried sick for me, but I soothed myself that she had plenty on her plate. I’m her firstborn. The child she understands the least, the one who’s like her husband in body and soul. I knew I was probably near the bottom of her worry list.

The very first thing I did when we entered the cabin was order Peeta to sit down in the dining room. I gathered my mother’s first aid kit from the bathroom, wet a rag in cool water and I got to work cleaning the blood from his face.

“This has to be gross for you,” he murmurs after a long stretch of silence. His eyes betrayed how self-conscious he must have felt.

Trying to alleviate his anxiety, I pretended to shrug it off. “My mother cleans wounds all the time. At our kitchen table, no less.”

Peeta made a noise that indicated he didn’t buy my act of ease. “I heard at school that you run from the sick and injured.”

I raised my eyebrows at the comment. No one at school talked about me. No one knew me well enough to. People stopped trying to get close to any of Hunter Everdeen’s kids years ago.

The longer I stared at Peeta in disbelief, the more he seemed to lose confidence in his statement. “Maybe I didn't hear it,” he finally amended. I brought the damp cloth back up to his face again as a reward, tenderly wiping away the blood, before using the clean side to set against his swelling lid, hoping to offer some pain reduction there as well. “Maybe I saw it,” he added sheepishly.

I furrowed my brows, even more perplexed by the elaboration. “Saw it?”

“When Leaf Barker tripped and broke his knee in Physical Education last year? You were almost green when you bolted out of the gymnasium.”

His words conjured up a vague image. Still though, something about this felt odd to me.

“How do you remember that better than I do?”

At that, Peeta shrugged. “I guess, I notice you sometimes?”

“What do you mean, sometimes?” I pressed, none of his words suddenly making a bit of sense.

“Why did you stick up for me tonight?” He abruptly segued, his expression shifting into something of defense, like he’s trying to deflect.

But I’m not one to be deterred. “I wasn’t going to stand there and watch your mother hurt you,” I stated, my voice remaining firm. “Why?”

He continued to walk around my question. “Is tonight the first night you ever noticed me?”

I pulled my hand and the damp cloth away from his wounded face, reaching in the kit to grab a white cream I’d seen my mother and Prim both use on swelling before. “Yes,” I finally replied, because I don’t know what else to say. That I saw him glance at me sometimes and then watched as his eyes flit away? That I noticed how he doodled in math class, because he found the subject boring? That I’d seen him lift a sack easily over his shoulder at the bakery and watched him beat almost every upperclassmen at wrestling, even while three years their junior?

None of that seems even remotely relevant to mention.

“When was the first time you noticed me?” I shot back, still being careful to apply the cream with only the lightest pressure to his battered eye.

“Kindergarten,” he instantly blurted out, his tone simple and bold.

I stared at him in disbelief for a long moment before chuckling, catching the joke. “Funny.”

“I’m serious,” he refuted, peaking his good eye open, the sky meeting a silver dollar as our gaze locked. And I see that he is serious somehow.

“What?”

“The first day of kindergarten,” he continued, after a long beat of me just staring him. His confidence had wavered once again and he was looking a bit regretful that he’d put this out in the open. “You were wearing a red velvet dress and brown stockings. Your hair was in two braids instead of one and your ribbons matched your dress. The teacher asked during music assembly who knew The Valley Song and your hand shot right up. She put you on a stool and you sang it, clear as day, for everyone to hear. Even the birds outside stopped to listen. And from that moment on… I was a goner.”

I just continued to look at him in disbelief, unable to put the pieces of what he’s said together. Finally, I whispered, “you’re telling the truth?”

“I’ve had a crush on you for forever,” he admitted, his singularly open eye giving away his nerves at the admission. “And I know you probably don’t feel the same way. I know you didn’t even know my name until tonight but I just wanted to say, in case we never have the chance to speak again-”

“Stop,” I cut him off, my mind already about to explode. “Stop, um…” I refused to look at him as I spoke, furiously staring down at my lap. “I need more time to… process this.”

He had a crush on me since the first day of kindergarten? He’d heard me sing and from that day forward he held a hidden candle for me?

And he never once worked up the courage to talk to me?

Dozens of moments suddenly race through my mind.

Cerulean blue eyes finding me in a crowd countless times and then pulling away as soon as I meet them. The time I wanted to play a stupid game at recess and a stocky blonde boy volunteered to be team captain, and then picked me first. The stunning drawing I found in my locker last year on Sweetheart’s Day, that I was convinced was put there by mistake, though it bore a striking resemblance to the doodles on Peeta’s notebook.

And before I could stop it, I felt myself begin to shake with nerves.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he apologized, seeing my frightened reaction. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I just… I didn’t know if I’d ever get the opportunity to tell you again-”

“Shhh,” I hushed, picking up the damp cloth once more. “Let me take care of your face. And then…” I hesitated again, unsure what to say in this situation. I had exactly zero experiences to compare this to. “Tomorrow we can talk more.”

Peeta nodded amicably, staying silent for the reminder of my ministrations. I felt a terrible pang of guilt for not responding the way he’d probably hoped, but there was still a part of me too stunned to even fully register the confession.

I was an outcast. I’d never fit in with the kids at school, neither town or Seam. I don’t look like the merchants and I’m too rich for the Seam folk. I would have been alone all the time at school if it weren’t for Madge Undersee, the mayor’s daughter who sat with me at lunch and partnered with me in class.

How could anyone have even noticed me to be anything other than strange? I barely spoke, even in classes where I knew all the answers. And I hardly participated in games or gossip. I had a father who insisted most days on picking me up himself from school, not allowing me to walk home alone like the other kids.

But the look in Peeta’s eyes was earnest. He wasn’t playing some elaborate trick on me, he wasn’t trying to coerce me into confessing something as well so he could humiliate me. He was being genuine in every way I could tell. And I had my father’s senses.

The same senses that helped him win his hunger games.

A new thought struck me out of the blue. Peeta seemed too kind and too considerate to have a mother who beat him like this. He doesn’t fit the profile of the kids in the community home, brought there by even less abuse than I witnessed firsthand tonight.

The insane urge to get to know him more, to learn more about this complete stranger who I went out on an impulsive limb for suddenly surges through my brain.

It wouldn’t be a good idea, I told myself. He’s a merchant and I’m the daughter of a victor. Two titles that seem not far apart in theory but are miles away from the other in practice. And I’m not experienced with people the way he is. I don’t know how to make friends or how to maintain them. I don’t know what he expects from me but it’s surely more than I know how to give. I don’t know what to say in a situation like this. Haymitch always tells me I’m as romantic as dirt.

But is that what I want to be? I asked myself as I finished fixing Peeta up. Do I want to be romantic? Do I want to be that girl who holds her boyfriend’s hand in the town square and kisses him under the moonlight? Do I want to put an embroidered ribbon in my hair and wear an expensive dress from the Capitol to go to the Sweetheart’s Dance? Do I want to sneak in through my bedroom window at the crack of dawn so my father won’t know I’ve been out all night?

If I could learn to be romantic, would I want to be?

And naturally, the answer I’ve always known automatically seeps through my brain. No. I’m not like my mother and Prim. I’m practical by nature, rather than fanciful. I’ve never truly obsessed about falling in love or fawned over even the most incredible looking men on the television.

But something held me back now. Something inside me said that answer, the truth I’d always known, is suddenly not entirely accurate anymore.

Because I find that I did want those things I just described. I did want to have someone to hold, someone to laugh with, someone who conjured up that same flip in my stomach as Peeta did earlier when he laughed.

I wanted the same kind of love my parents had. The kind of love that brought them both to life, despite the horrible circumstances they’d both separately endured. I wanted the kind of love that they showed me was possible, even in a world as bleak and as inhumane as Panem felt at times.

I only realized how long I’d been silent, contemplating my inner desires, when Peeta offered a minuscule smile and stood up slowly to leave.

I opened my mouth to speak but when his eyes met mine, every thought in my head was magically wiped away. I had nothing to say, nothing that could be of any sort of consequence, that could mean anything in comparison to his confession.

“I should head back to town,” he murmured, trying to appear nonchalant. “Face my mother. Hope she’s in a better mood now-”

But I couldn’t stand the idea of him returning to the witch, the idea of going to school tomorrow and acting like his words weren’t still spinning around my brain, the idea of even sleeping soundly tonight.

“Peeta,” I called just as he was about to reach the front door. “Wait!”

He turned towards me, looking puzzled by my outburst. “What’s wrong?”

And I don’t know what came over me. I still can’t place what made me—a girl who had never been decisive a day in her life—fling myself across the room and smash my lips onto his.

He didn’t respond at first. I caught him too completely by surprise. His lips hung there, frozen, as mine pushed against his, with too much force and an overload of desperation.

But I felt an incredible stirring in my chest, an odd sensation that felt akin to a giggle amplified.

And when he finally recovered from the shock of it all, his hands both came to rest on either side of my hips, his mouth began to move against mine, his knees bent to reach my height with more success, and the stirring turned to a fiery spark. I know he felt it too, as the kiss was swiftly disturbed by his wide grin.

“Don’t go back home tonight,” I gasped out, looking up at him, wide-eyed and breathless.

His gaze melted as he took me in, he head bobbing in agreement without even needing to consider my request.

“Okay,” he’d whispered with a dazed smile, his blue eyes impossibly wild and sleepy at the same time.

His expression, his spirit somehow, was contagious, and I found myself somewhere stuck between a laugh and a blush when I replied.

“Okay.”

/

After that night, Peeta rarely went back home. I had called my mother and let her know I was staying at the cabin, but intentionally eluded telling her that the baker’s son was joining me. We’d spent the entire night talking in front of the fire, making each other laugh. The bashfulness I felt from my unexpected kiss stayed in my gut, causing me to bubble up with embarrassed laughter every so often.

But instead of that making things awkward, it cut the tension pretty smoothly. It was only months later did Peeta confess he’d felt just as nervous and just as shy about spending time with me. He was charismatic, I realize even that first night. Ironically funny. He was nice, in a way I rarely have found anyone to be. And, the more time went on, the more my desire grew to stay close to him. The more often I was around him, the more painfully I missed him when we were apart.

It was only a matter of time until my mother found out—not least of all, because my siblings accidentally caught us kissing in back of the school, a month to the day we first spoke.

I always imagined she’d be strict on me, the firstborn, when it came to dating. Especially in the world we lived in. Especially with my father’s position. I truly thought she’d forbid a relationship until I was of age. Maybe I was wrong about her. Or maybe she just saw how I looked at Peeta and understood that I wasn’t just being careless or rebellious. That whatever magnetic connection I felt towards Peeta wasn’t just an ordinary school-aged fling.

To my surprise as well, my mother seemed to take on a very similar stance to me when it came to Peeta and my father. Keeping the news of this entanglement from her husband’s ears was almost her idea.

“What are you thinking about?” Peeta asks me now, bringing me back to the present moment. His fingers tickle my neck as they brush my hair back behind my ear, touching one of the satin green ribbons weaved throughout my loose braids.

“You,” I reply coyly, shooting him a sly glance as I slip past him to head back towards the kitchen.

“Me?” He calls in mock disbelief. He trails up behind me, catching me by the waist and swinging me into his arms without warning.

“Peeta!” I exclaim, automatically wrapping myself around him as I try to steady my balance midair.

“What, baby?”

“Put me down, baby,” I mock, pressing my nose to his now, rubbing them together.

“I like holding you though,” he whispers, like he’s confessing some huge secret.

“Until your arms gets tired-”

“That was one time, Katniss.”

“I’m just reminding you,” I say with an air of superiority. “You don’t always appreciate holding me.”

At that, his demeanor falls a little. “I do when I realize I won’t be seeing you much in a few days.”

I feel my heart sink now too. As excited as I am at the prospect of my father coming home, after weeks apart, I always have to be a little more careful upon his first days back.

He always likes to spend time at the cabin and go for long walks in the woods upon his return. Spend more time in nature than the indoors, stay far away from people outside our family, sleep under the stars by the lake. The Capitol is apparently luxurious, but in my father’s own words, it is void of any true or natural beauty. Everything is artificial, man-made, concocted and orchestrated. There’s nothing that compares in his mind—or mine either—to a cool breeze on a sunny day spent in the meadow where the dandelions grow tall.

“But I’ll still see you in school?” I say, though my voice comes out as more of a plea. Peeta doesn’t always like to attend school these days, not when he knows his parents can easily track him down there.

His father, the baker himself, took the ambiguous loss of his youngest—his favorite—son particularly hard. It was only a matter of weeks after I intercepted his mother beating him that Peeta definitively decided to sever ties with majority of his family.

I’d like to say he made the choice all on his own but that’d be a lie. I watched as the physical bruises on his skin healed, as he began to peel back emotional layer upon layer to me, as he slowly told me what really had been going on in the Mellark’s family home. And I can’t say that I was impartial to his decision to cut the connection to a mother with a bruising fist and a father who closed his eyes and let it happen.

“Delly’s parents usually make me go to school so…” He shrugs it off, like it’s of no consequence, his arms hoisting me higher against his chest.

But I feel a sudden wave of gratitude towards the Cartwrights. They may be a little too jolly for my liking and their daughter, Delly, maybe can’t take a hint to save her life, but at least they always watch out for Peeta’s well-being. At least they cover for him when his mother come sniffing around and they feed him what they can afford and force him to attend class, where I’ll be able to see him.

“Good,” I murmur, at peace now. My father will be home soon and Peeta will be safely tucked away with his best friend.

I lean down and kiss his nose sweetly, reveling in the tender moment. His lips follow my lead and begin to plant themselves across my chin, underneath my jaw, causing me to squirm and squeal at the sensation.

“So,” he murmurs against my throat. “We have the entire place to ourselves, for the whole night, huh?”

His audacious smile elicits my own. “At least.” My father’s delays usually mean a minimum of two days.

Within a minute, Peeta has me on my back, against the softly quilted bed of my upstairs room. He takes his time helping me out of my clothes before I hurriedly shove his off, impatient and hungry.

He, of course, finds time to crack a joke. “Good thing Archie is too young to come here unchaperoned. Or else we’d never get the chance to do this.”

I roll my eyes and shove his mouth off my collarbone, utterly disgusted now. “Talking about my baby brother is one sure way to turn me off, Peeta.”

Archer, my three-old-brother, was an unexpected surprise, to put it lightly. My parents were done with two girls. My father joked him and my mother were both already set with one clone each, but alas, the year of the Seventieth Hunger Games was a year full of shocks.

A few months before the games that year, the coal mines—the industry Twelve is known for—exploded. Right in the middle of the afternoon, as everyone was obliviously going about their day.

It was a close call for many and one more reason my father is beloved around these parts. If he hadn’t been at the right place, at the right time, if he hadn’t volunteered to go with Prim and her class on a field trip down to the mines that day, there was a chance that no one would have noticed the gas leak.

It was too late to do anything by the time my father pointed it out, but his warning and the fact that people in Twelve take his word very seriously, managed to save the lives the inevitable explosion would have otherwise cost.

Through the outpouring of gratitude, and the overwhelming media coverage my whole family was abruptly bombarded with, my parents made the decision to pull me and Prim from school for a while, to hole up in the remodeled cabin, where no one could find us because of its illegal location.

I’ve never ask and I don't ever want to know when my parents conceived Archer. But about nine months after the vacation from the world, my mother gave birth to a little boy who looked identical to me and my father.

“Sorry,” Peeta whispers with a chuckle, collapsing beside me. “I’ll make it up to you.”

He moves to kiss my stomach, to trace circles on my hips like he always does. But I shake my head, a different request—or more like it, demand—on my mind.

“Tell me the story of how you first fell in love with me?”

Peeta rolls his eyes. Very dramatically. “You mean a year ago?”

“I mean in kindergarten,” I say with a smirk and then let out a shriek of surprise when he pounces on me, his lips attacking my neck.

“Aren’t you tired of that story yet?” He asks, his voice edging on exasperated.

“You never tire of a classic.” I give him a pout, knowing he never refuses me anything when I pull that trick.

I’m right, as per usual. “Fine,” he relents, but his eyes tell me that he enjoys telling this tale more than he leads on. “Come here.” He holds open his arms and waits for me to crawl into them, to settle against his chest.

I lay there for a long moment, my pointer finger running up and down the center of his bicep, as my ear rests against his heartbeat, patiently waiting for him to begin.

“It was the very first day of school. You were wearing a red, velvet dress…”

/

Read the rest on AO3 

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

please give us more dweu hunger games headcanons!! seven benny ace and hex is such an incredible team in any context

It's extremely rare for a Victor's child to be Reaped, but not unheard of. in the eyes of the President and those in the Capitol, that kind of occurrence means an even deeper reminder than no one is exempt; all are sacrifices and may be given the "opportunity" to live up to that. To Benny, all it means is that her son is dead.

(RIP Peter you deserve better than being a plot device in my fics but I'm horrible)

the other Mentor from Benny's district is a strange little man who calls himself the Doctor, but his name is actually Lungbarrow. he's a seemingly jolly nerd who also happens to have been extremely, notoriously ruthless and cunning in his own Games. the specific, dangerous glint in his eye is the only thing that betrays his smiling exterior.

Benny didn't really care about mentoring until Peter was Reaped, but now even though he is *ahem* gone, she does it somewhat in his honor. That, and she can't get as good alcohol at home, so the trip to the Capitol has that one, selfish, redeeming factor to her.

Dorothy McShane, who only lets people call her "Ace," is the better candidate for survival out of the district's two Tributes. she's willing to fight, determined, even if it is mostly out of a desperation and resignation she's known her whole life. her best friend Julian was Reaped the year prior. he was not a Victor.

Ace is already familiar with the Doctor, because he'd taken her under his wing in the wake of her friend's televised death. Benny thinks the girl would have made a good Career Tribute, in another life. she's got just enough anger for it.

Thomas "Hex" Schofield, the male Tribute, is softer. he doesn't want to die, but he also doesn't want to kill. he's the same age as his teenage mother was when she died in the Games. he looks Benny straight in the eyes when he shrugs and says he supposes he's just carrying on a — very brief — family legacy

the reason Benny stayed away from mentoring for so long is because she hates giving these kids hope and knowing only one of them even has the chance to survive. but maybe even giving them hope to begin with makes it worth it.

the Doctor has no such struggles. he plans to someday topple the Capitol, and mentoring may be the way to do that. he's playing the arena like a chessboard, and these two teenagers are the most valuable pieces to him.

Benny is very well acquainted with the Head Gamemaker, Irving Braxiatel. he took one look at her when she was a Tribute herself and decided to play favorites — probably because she wasn't afraid of him; truth is, she didn't even know who he was back then, not until her training had nearly ended and he told her, secretly, that he would help her win. she didn't accept his help, but she didn't turn it away, either. she only had to kill one person in the arena, because she always found, or was given, places to hide.

the only time she's ever asked anything of her one, single friend in high places, was Peter's games. she cornered Brax during training week and asked, begged him to help Peter the way he'd done her. he told her he would try, and then he very clearly, obviously did not. Peter died. and when Brax tried to talk to her afterwards, Benny stormed away. (she was too drunk to have a conversation right then, anyway, especially with the man who had given her such false hope)

Ruth Leonidas and Jack McSpringheel (nobody knows his real last name, but that's what he tells everyone) are mentors as well, both from different districts. Ruth is a little less... maybe not "sane," but she's less put together, less fully *there* than she was before the Games. she attached herself to Benny as soon as they met, and is one of the few other Victors who Benny actually enjoys spending time with.

Jack, of course, takes far too much pleasure in messing with them both, though he won't go near the Doctor out of intimidation. he's an all-around nuisance during trainup week, because not only does he pester all the other mentors and try to scare or mess with the Tributes, he also makes it his mission to annoy all the stylists and Gamemakers — especially Brax. (side note: Jack is... basically Finnick in this AU, but with probably slightly less horrible trauma. does this make Ruth Annie? possibly. who knows. definitely not me lol)

the Doctor is the best at the training bit, all the science and strategy. all Benny can do is be vaguely maternal and teach them how to find food, store water, and most of all: to hide. Benny's good at moving from place to place, and even if she's noticed, it doesn't matter because she'll find another place. she's good at it, and her life is proof.

Ace doesn't want to hide, she wants to fight, and when Benny tries to warn her that none of these kids in the Arena with her killed her best friend, the girl doesn't listen. she's full of anger and pain and aloneness and her preferred weapon is a bludgeon and she's ready to go down swinging and maybe just maybe survive.

Benny has less of an immediate connection with Hex, but he seeks her out. he has a strategy, he tells her, and he wants to hear what she thinks. she argues that she's not the strategist, not the chessmaster the Doctor or Irving Braxiatel are, but she listens anyway. he plans to die. to go down fighting and let Ace win. he plans to die for Ace, because he thinks she's better fit for it. he wants his friend to live. Benny looks at him and wants to argue. she wants to tell him to fight, but she also understands. if that's what he wants, she tells him, she'll help him keep Ace alive. it's the least she can do.

Irving Braxiatel continues to seek her out — in the hallways, at the parties, even in the apartments they're staying in. he thinks they're still friends, or can be, and Benny gives him the what-for over that. she shouldn't blame him, not fully, but in her mind, because she had asked for his help and he had failed to give it, he is responsible for her son's death. she doesn't ever want to forgive him for that.

Brax, for his part, has a reputation to uphold. he's supposed to remain impartial, and his first slip-up with Benny put him in enough danger as it was. he did try, to some degree, to give Peter Summerfield an advantage, but he couldn't do much without being targeted himself and likely putting a target on Benny's back as well. he prefers security to the risk that would take. he is sorry, of course, knows somewhere deep down that he should have done more, but that's only peripheral. he does, however, want his friend back. Benny was his best (one of his only) friend. and now she hates him.

President Rassilon is keeping a close eye on the Doctor in particular, and by extension, Benny. Ace and Hex make a stand at the opening parade, and that makes them persons of interest as well. Ace may not be the "Girl on Fire," but she's unstoppable with her a heavy bludgeon and determination grown from a difficult, lonely childhood. Hex is just as determined; determined to help Ace. he's given up on his own life. like he told the Doctor and Benny when they first met: death in the Games is his mother's legacy.

the Games are death in an hourglass. all Benny can do is watch.

[zero-cycle]

@dreamsmp-au-ideas Does anyone remember the Hunger Games AU? I haven't been able to stop thinking about the Tommy/Dream perspective clash in that AU, so this got created.

People always said he was overconfident or rushed into things too big for him without thinking. Tommy would like them all to know that they were very, very wrong. Because he was here today. Tommy Innit, Victor of the 74th Hunger Games. Against all odds and hardships and everything. The odds were, for once in his entire life, in his favour.

He shudders. Not thinking about that now. There were other, more urgent problems. Like the fact that he had no idea where he was. Wilbur had told him to wait in one of the thousands of nondescript hallways with the soft carpets and obnoxious decoration and then his mentor had left. Naturally, Tommy had decided not to wait for him there. If someone gives you a chance for exploration, you take it. He’d only intended to quickly look around and then be back before Wilbur would notice but everything in the Capitol looks the same. Everything’s golden and gaudy and screams ‘rich’ in all the wrong ways so he has no idea where he is now and where he needs to go.

He kicks against the floor in frustration. Of course it doesn’t make a sound. He kicks harder. Stupid carpet in the stupid capitol.

There’s a vase he could throw against the wall. It’s not the kind you’d use for flowers, but instead some designer thing that’s just thrown out money in Tommy’s eyes. The kind of money the districts don’t have. The kind of money he soon will have. He wants to shatter it. Tell all the Capitol people to shove it, to show them exactly what he thinks of them.

“I wouldn’t do that.”

Tommy jumps and then curses. In one of the hallways, a figure leans on the wall. When the man raises his head, Tommy recognizes him instantly. Green hoodie, curly blond hair and that ‘dreamy’ look every girl in District Four had liked to talk about for hours.

Ha. Dreamy. Nothing about that man was dreamy now, with an arrogant smirk on his lips.

Dream. Career. District One. Victor in the 70th Hunger Games. Everything little Tommy had wanted to be and everything this Tommy had sworn himself to never become.

“What? Because it’s expensive? Not like they have the money for a million more, right?”

“Oh, I won’t stop you.” Dream shrugs. His smirk somehow gets even more condescending. “But I also won’t help you get out of the trouble you’re about to get into.”

Asshole.

“I wasn’t about to really do it.”

“Good.” Now there’s something about Dream’s eyes the TV camera never had been able to capture. The sharpness in his gaze, the heat Tommy suddenly feels when the man is staring at him. He feels like a little child that was caught with his hands in the cookie jar. It’s stupid. Dream is only, what, four years older than him? He was sixteen, same age as Tommy now, when he won his games so he should be twenty now, right? The capitol probably threw him a giant party for his birthday but Tommy had been a little busy to not die to keep up with the celebrity news.

“What are you doing here anyway? Is that what you do in your free time? Hanging around hallways and saving ugly capitol vases?”

Now that got a raise out of Dream. Finally. His eyes flashed in annoyance and he looked up at the ceiling.

“Yes, that is exactly what I’m doing. I have nothing better to do with my time than saving little kids from their own stupidity.”

“Who’re calling you little?”

Heat burns in Tommy’s stomach. He’s just as tall as Dream, that idiot has no leg to stand on. Dream. What kind of stupid name was that anyway? Who calls their kid Dream? If Tommy didn’t know better, he would have bet a lot on Dream being from the capitol. It would probably not even make a difference to his lifestyle.

“I’m a big man. A big man. I even won the Hunger Games.”

“You’re new.” Dream’s calm again but it feels more like the waves receding before the storm arrives. “You’ll learn soon enough how things work here.” He glances sideways. “Or not. Maybe you’ll just end up as capitol fodder.”

Tommy bristles. He wants to interrupt Dream, give him a piece of his mind and a clever comeback of his own but his mind is empty.

Dream is still talking. “I’ll let it slide, this once. Apparently your mentor didn’t feel the need to stick around and explain. You’re from Four, right?” He doesn’t even wait for an answer. “Of course Wilbur is slacking off. What did they even expect?”

That’s the last drop of oil onto the campfire. Tommy explodes. “Oh yeah? At least I’m here. Don’t see any of your kids around.”

Later, when Tommy knows Dream better, he’ll think back to this moment and recognize the tiny movements for what they were. He’ll seethe flinch, the way Dream’s fingers wanted to grab for the handle of his hidden knife. He’ll hear the desperation, the hopelessness in Dream’s voice and know why it’s there.

But right now, he just hears Dream laugh. “Better luck next time,” the other victor shrugs.

“You did win the last Games,” a new voice points out. Deep, smooth and somehow friendly sounding it is the exact opposite of Dream.

The owner, too, looks completely different. With his thick, brown hair that threatens to fall into his eyes he looks far more like Wilbur than Dream. His eyes are hidden behind dark sunglasses so Tommy can’t read his mood. In his hair, something silver shines. If they were still in the arena, Tommy would say ‘hidden knife’, but out here in the capitol it’s probably a crown or a circlet or something similarly stupid.

Was the man a capitol citizen? His clothing seemed like it but that didn’t really mean anything. Then again, who was arrogant enough to walk around with a crown if they weren’t born in the capitol? Certainly nobody from District Four.

“That’s true,” Dream answers.

Tommy does remember the bloodied clothes of the last victor and his ash-streaked face but he didn’t remember that he was from District One.

“But it’s not like it matters.”

Tommy is still boiling from the last remark Dream made about Wilbur, so that might explain what he does next. Or maybe the people were right and he just does things without thinking.

“Shut up, Dream.”

Dream cocks his head to the side. “I don’t think I’ll take orders from you.”

Tommy interrupts him. “Listen, Dream.” He raises his voice when the other victor tries to speak over him. “Listen to me! You’re talking about lives. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“Ah, Tommy. You have no idea how things work here.”

“Oh yeah?” Tommy is pissed. “Maybe I don’t want to know how you think things work here. Maybe I’d rather learn from someone who still tries to save his tributes and isn’t already thinking like the capitol!”

Maybe he’s too angry to see clearly, or maybe Dream’s just too fast. Anyway, Tommy finds himself slammed into the wall. Ow.

There’s a knife on his throat. For some reason, his body refuses to work. He locks eyes with Dream who, for the first time in this conversation, truly has lost his cool. His signature charming smile is missing completely and instead been replaced by something that makes Tommy shudder down to his bones.

“You are very new here which is why I’m giving you this warning, Tommy. Don’t expect mercy a second time,” Dream hisses. His teeth are bared. “Do not. Talk. About. Another’s. Tributes.” He places an emphasis on every word. Tommy expects blood to run down his shirt every second now.

“Dream. That’s unnecessary.”

Finally, finallythe capitol citizen in the hallway steps in. But it’s not enough. Dream doesn’t move an inch.

“He has to learn that lesson and I’ll make sure he won’t forget.”

“You aren’t his mentor. At least let him breathe.”

Now that capitol-citizen mentions it, Tommy is a little bit lightheaded. That’s not good.

Dream takes another second but then releases him again. The knife is still in his hand though.

“Thank you, Dream,” the not-Wilbur says. “Don’t worry, Tommy, he doesn’t normally try to murder people on their first day.”

“Only on their second?” Tommy jokes weakly but not-Wilbur laughs.

“You do like to threaten people with knives.”

“Only if they deserve it,” Dream answers with a cheeky smile.

Before Tommy can take offense again and defend his honour, not-Wilbur (potentially capitol?) changes the subject.

“Why are you here, Tommy? You should be with your mentor right now.”

Like hell is Tommy going to admit he’s lost.

“Oh, I was just passing through. Exploring a bit.” He shrugs and tries to look like he doesn’t really care. Those stupid sunglasses make not-Wilbur’s face incredibly hard to read and it makes the back of his neck itch.

“Just passing through, huh.” Not-Wilbur even soundsneutral. How the hell does he manage that?

“You’re lucky you run into us, then,” Dream pipes up. Is he… cleaning his knife? Cutting his outfit apart? Tommy doesn’t even want to know.

“Yeah. Lucky.” Lucky getting threatened with a knife maybe. Tommy really had hoped he’d be able to leave thatin the arena but apparently nobody here cared about what he wanted.

“Sorry about Dream.” Not-Wilbur smiles. It’s a polite, nondescript smile. The kind the mayor of Four had used every reaping or announcement of a tax raise. “Normally he’s a bit less murderous – at least to us.”

More polite to the capitol people. Of course. Always the loyal lapdog, huh? It took Tommy quite a bit of willpower to not say that out loud but despite what most people said, he had some kind of survival instinct.

Not-Wilbur laughs suddenly. “I’m an idiot. I never actually introducedmyself, did I?”

Tommy would rather die than admit that he’s been calling him Not-Wilbur in his head for the last five minutes so he just nods.

“I’m Eret,” Not-Wilbur says. Tommy doesn’t recognize the name but it doesn’t sound as bad as Dream. “From District Eight.”

District Eight… District?

“You’re not from the capitol?”

“No. I’m like you and Dream, Tommy.” Yeah, sure. Like Dream was in any way like him. “I won the 71th,” Eret explains.

Oh. Now Tommy remembers. He’d been thirteen, his second year of being eligible for the Games. After Dream’s spectacular win the year beforenobody really had cared but he did remember that it had been an outlier win in that year. He’d have to ask Wilbur or Technoblade about Eret later. He seemed interesting.

“Now, Tommy. Where do you want to go next on your… exploration?” There was just a hint of sarcasm in Eret’s voice. Enough that Tommy knew the other victor knew exactly that he was lost but was also polite enough to give him an out.

“I was searching for Tubbo,” Tommy admits.

“Tubbo? Ah, the Ten kid.” Dream is still cleaning his knife. Does that man ever stop?

“He has a name,” Tommy snaps.

“I only learn the names of people when they’re interesting.” Dream doesn’t even have the decency to look up when talking to Tommy.

“Well, you seemed to know mine well enough!”

Dream raises his blade and stares at it like he wants to use it as a mirror. Maybe he even does that. He seems to be in love with this blade and and also himselfenough to actually do it.

“You always seemed like someone who could win. Your friend on the other hand…”

“Dream,” Eret chastises mildly but Tommy shouts over him: “Leave Tubbo alone! He’s won the Games, just like I did and you don’t get to say he doesn’t deserve to live!”

Dream laughs. It’s an unhinged, manical laugh that twists his features into something dangerous and makes Tommy want to cower behind something. He is still holding his fucking knife. “Careful, Tommy. Attachments are dangerous. Especially if you reveal them so carelessly.”

“Dream.” Again someone new. Was that like the hallway where the people of the capitol met? For all Tommy knew, those who lived here could be insane enough to actually do that, if the three before him were any indication.

The new person wore a white hoodie and a strange amulet-thingy but Tommy knew what a peacekeeper looked like in any variation. He might not be carrying any visible weapons but the way they stood was enough. Military. Gross.

“You don’t pay me enough to look away when you try to murder one of the new victors.” Somehow, the man manages to make murder sound really boring.

Dream laughs. Is that the only thing he can do? Insult people and then laugh? “I totally could buy you off the capitol and then tell you to not interfere while I have my fun with Tommy.”

“I wouldn’t call threatening people with knives fun.” Even Eret doesn’t sound particularly concerned. But then, they’re capitol people. Murder is entertainment for them.

“You’re also boring at parties,” Dream retorts but finally slides the knife back wherever he got it from. “Your purpose is to sit still and look pretty, not be the entertainment.”

There’s something unspoken in those words. Tommy feels like he’s missed half the conversation when there’s suddenly quiet and the atmosphere tenses. Then Eret laughs softly and some of theplayful nature returns.

“True enough. But how could I entertain the room if you’re there?”

Again, something sharp underlines his words. Dream’s eyes go cold for a tiny moment and Tommy is nearly afraid of the outcome.

Thankfully, Punz steps in. Or maybe he just remembered what he needed to do. Anyway, he interrupts the strange pissing contest the other two are competing in.

“Speaking of entertainment: They are calling for you. The others are already waiting.”

Dream visibly restrains himself and suddenly, there’s the smile again on his lips. Like a mask that protects his real feelings. “They’ll have to wait. I want to finish my conversation with Tommy first.”

“Dream.”

“Punz,” Dream mocks.

The peacekeeper rolls his eyes. “Fine. Not my problem if you want to make more enemies.”

“Still. Tommy should probably find his friend. Not like he’ll get much free time after.”

Thank you. Eret was rapidly becoming his favorite person.

Dream rolls his eyes. “Alright, alright. I’ve gotten the hint. Let’s go Punz.”

The victor walks off into another seemingly random direction but Dream seems like he knows what he’s doing. Punz is following him with a long-suffering sigh.

“You’re fun, Tommy,” Dream throws over his shoulder while he walks off. “I think we’ll see each other again.”

Tommy shudders.

So if anyone's confused about who won which game: roughly the timeline goes

Sam - 67th

Techno - 68th

Wilbur - 69th

Dream - 70th

Eret - 71th

George - 72th

Sapnap - 73th

Tommy & Tubbo - 74th