#why does he look more like finnick in this ..

[allisluv]

Omg Finnick seeing reader crying after sex but she's okay it's just that it was so emotional and she needs to let it all out

content warnings: brief smut, p in v, crying, concerned finnick, teasing towards the end. this is not my best work-- im sleep deprived and kind of out of it but i havent posted in a few days so we move. idk what ive wrote so im sorry nonnie! 0.5k words

Finnick’s skin is slick with sweat as he thrusts in and out of you, eyes trained on watching your expression twist and contort with bliss.

He can tell when you're close to falling over the edge of ecstasy; you clench around his cock and your moans grow more high-pitched and needy, almost bordering on a whine.

He spurs you on with words of praise, and when your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave, he's there to soothe you with a press of his lips against the top of your head forehead. He slots his lips over your own and slips his tongue into your mouth, swallowing the noises that you make. He spills his load inside of you, shooting hot sticky ropes of cum in your cunt before slowly pulling out and kissing you quiet.

"I'm just going to go grab a washcloth, okay, baby? I'll be right back," Finnick mumbles, rolling off of you as carefully as possible and making a beeline for the en-suite off to the side of your bed.

He turns the faucet to the left until a steady stream of warm water trickles out of the tap, and he holds a washcloth underneath it, feeling the fabric go soft as it grows damp.

Humming a mindless tune under his breath, he goes back into the bedroom only for his heart to sink when he sees you sobbing into your pillow.

Finnick’s by your side in an instant, kneeling next to you on the bed. A hundred and one thoughts bounce about in his head, but he pushes them to one side, as your safety and well being is his main priority.

“Did I hurt you?” He frets, reaching out to touch you but hesitating at the last minute. He doesn’t want to freak you out.

You shake your head no, but you’re still sobbing and it does little to soothe the ache in his chest. “Why’re you crying, then, honey?” He asks softly.

“I just— you were so sweet, and it was so emotional and you were just really nice and it felt really good.” You sob

Finnick’s brows dip in confusion before he barks out a laugh.

You whack him in the shoulder in retaliation. “It’s not funny!” You wail.

“I’m not laughing!”

“Liar.” You sniffle

Finnick composes himself enough to pull you into his arms. You go willingly and he rests his chin atop your head. “Oh, angel.” He mutters fondly. He brushes his lips against your temple and smooths a hand up and down your bare back. “You’re sure I didn’t hurt you?”

“I’m sure,” You say, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I was crying.”

Finnick smiles into your hair. “It’s alright, angel. You just gave me a fright, ‘s all.” He lifts your chin up so that you’re looking at him; there’s a mischievous glint in his eye. “Was I really that good?”

You bury your head in his chest, face flushed. “You’re such a dick.”

Finnick chuckles. “Now is that any way to talk to the guy who made you feel so good that you cried?” He teases, a smug smile on his face.

“I will grab that washcloth and ring your neck with it.”

[foxdoodles]

saw you’re drawing THG art again… i love your hunger games art sm, would love to see some solo peeta studies if youre up to it!!!

thank you so much!! this is actually my first time ever doing THG art so i'm still working out how to draw the characters haha, glad you're liking it so far!

here's a little peeta study as requested, probably the first of many more :)

speedpaint under the cut since some ppl have asked to see my process!

[vasilissadragomir]

people often use snow’s experiences with lucy gray as an explanation for how he engages with katniss, but i think that the true story of his downfall lies not in how lucy gray and katniss are similar, but rather in how they are different.

snow knew that it was never him that made the games what they are. it was lucy gray, with her scrappy, passionate artistry, that put on the show that kept people watching. more importantly, it was lucy gray that put on the show that kept HIM watching. all he ever did was give her the stage.

ergo, snow recognizes that the person with the power to usurp him is his natural counterpart, someone like lucy gray, who possessed both the charisma and humanity that he sorely lacks. however, in his mind, those traits are not real; they’re performed in order to obtain power. how could he know better, when he’s never experienced them himself, and the only person he ever truly believed possessed them betrayed him?

so snow keeps his eye out for performers, people with gravitas who could capture the heart of the nation, and squashes their spark as soon as he can. people like haymitch. people like finnick.

and that’s where snow goes wrong. he doesn’t see katniss’ similarities to lucy gray from the start, because while they both demonstrate astonishing, intriguing bravery at their reapings, their actions and motivations are completely different. lucy gray is motivated to perform by anger for herself, and katniss is motivated to sacrifice herself by fear for her sister.

but then katniss starts to put on a show for the audience, kissing peeta and being willing to die with the berries at the end of the 74th games. snow starts to see an entirely different side of katniss that resembles lucy gray to a concerning degree. he sees how, with peeta at her side, she could beguile the nation the same way lucy gray had. and, even worse, she was using the poor, helpless boy who had the misfortune of falling in love with her to survive. the moment katniss started performing, he finally sees lucy gray within her. but it’s already too late.

by catching fire, katniss is the spark fanning the flames of the resistance, but snow fails to understand why. as far as he’s concerned, katniss’ star power comes from her connection to peeta. he tries to weaponize their “love” for his own gain, but it doesn’t work, not because people don’t believe that she loves peeta, but because, for the first time, a victor offers their winnings to the family of a fallen tribute.

snow is caught in a catch 22 of seneca crane’s making—if he kills katniss, she becomes a martyr. but if he lets her live, she’ll be a revolutionary icon. either way, she’s the spark. so he has no choice but to allow the spark to flicker, just for a little while. enter the 75th games. snow knows he needs katniss to die a tragic death in the games. more specifically, he needs it to be a brutal death at the hands of a tribute, not the gamemakers, because he understands that as long as the districts see the capitol as the one who ended the life of katniss everdeen, she’ll still be a martyr.

but snow still doesn’t get it. in the quarter quell, the prey does not become predator. katniss’ allies protect her, ensuring she survives until district 13 rescues her. why would they protect this girl, assuming such a steep personal risk? why would they put everything on the line for a revolution they personally stand to benefit little from? he doesn’t know. but he does know that lucy gray katniss is at the center of it all, so he tries to eliminate what makes her look best: peeta.

and that is snow’s fatal mistake. what he, coin, and everyone but haymitch fail to understand is that it was never peeta that made katniss look good—it was katniss, who befriended and put faith in rue. katniss, who recruited mags, wiress, and beetee as allies. she is the source of revolutionary inspiration. it isn’t her charisma or even her compassion, and it certainly isn’t how well she performed those virtues.

katniss becomes the mockingjay because of her solidarity.

lucy gray was charismatic, like peeta, and compassionate, like both peeta and katniss, but she did not demonstrate solidarity. she was never truly “district” in the way katniss is. she showed kindness to jessup, not because he was from 12, but because he showed kindness to her. lucy gray left behind everything and everyone she loved when she left coriolanus, because she was first and foremost a survivor.

katniss was a survivor her whole life, but she survives exclusively to ensure the people she loves are protected. she always does what she can for people more vulnerable than herself. lucy gray couldn’t have sparked a revolution on her own because she lacked the solidarity that makes a hope for a better future authentic to others. katniss is the human manifestation of solidarity, and to a people divided by a common enemy, that’s the most inspiring thing a person can be.

only in the end, when katniss shoots coin, does snow realize none of it was a performance. choking on the blood of his countless adversaries, snow’s final moments are consumed by what he got wrong. what made lucy gray and katniss different ends his reign, but ironically, the final nail in his coffin is an act that both lucy gray and katniss share in their last moments with snow. they both prove, unequivocally, that he is not the center of their worlds like they are his. lucy gray put her own survival before her love for him, and katniss puts the future of her nation before her hate for him. in the end, he simply doesn’t matter. and that’s greater justice than could have ever been achieved if katniss had fired her arrow into his heart.

the greatest enemy to coriolanus snow could only be the person who reignited the embers of a dying revolutionary fire, who demonstrated to a broken people that while one spark alone might not be enough, thousands of sparks uniting in solidarity is an unbeatable force.

and really, he should have known better. after all, even when snow lands on top, fire melts snow.

[s7nburn]

NSFW ALPHABET Finnick Odair

WARNINGS: kinky shit, mentions of cum eating, kinks like breeding and exhibitionism, pussy eating, sex, rough sex, vanilla sex, sex, sex, and sex.

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A: Aftercare, what is he like after sex? He's super cuddley after sex. He loves to hold you and talk about random things while playing with your hair until you both fall asleep.

B: Body part, what's his favorite body part of yours? He adores your stomach, no matter how 'big' you think you are. He loves to place his hands there. Whether he's hugging you from the back or he's lying in between your legs eating you out.

C: Cum, Anything that has to do with cum. As I said earlier, he loves you stomach, so he definitely loves to cum on there. I feel like he'll also lick it up? He doesn't mind the mess, actually I think it may be what turns him on even more. Dont get me wrong he LOVES to cum in you though.

D: Dirty secrets. Does he have any dirty secrets? He definitely does. First, he likes to eat his own cum. Second, he for sure gets turned on by the thought of getting caught by someone. God, the amount of times he thought about fucking you during the games when thousands people are watching is insane.

E: Experience. How experienced is he? He's experienced, he had to be for what the capital did to him. All im saying is he's pretty good at what he does.

F: Favorite position. What's his favorite position? He loves the classic missionary. He loves seeing your face as he basically fucks you into next year.

G: Goofy. How goofy is he during sex? He not too goofy, he'll let out a giggle or two for no reason and you'll giggle back, but he's pretty much always is serious.

H: Hair. How well groomed is he? He likes to clean up down there. For you, he could care less. Whatever your comfortable with!

I: intimacy. How intimate is he? He is super intimate. He loves slow and passionate sex. Looking into your eyes as he slowly fucks you.

J: Jack off (masturbation). Do they jack off? Yes, but only when your not there, or if you're sleeping. He much prefers your hands.

K: Kinks. Does he have kinks? Yes. Oh God yes. When it's not slow, it's rough. And I mean rough. As I mentioned earlier, he obviously is an exhibitionist. He doesn't know why but it just turns him on so much. And if you ask, he doesn't mind choking you either. He DEFINITELY has a breeding kink... you'll most likely be on birth control. I feel like he won't actually do it but he fantasizes about blindfolding you. For sure. Also not a kink but he is a MAJOR pussy eater! He loves to look up at your face as he's making you cum with his tongue.

L: Location. Where's his favorite place to have sex? He prefers to have sex in the bedroom, but if he's REALLY horny he absolutely does not mind having it in the kitchen.

M: Motivation. What turns him on? You. Anything you do. You. You. You. But in all seriousness, you in dresses. The way they frame you body or lift up your boobs a little...

N: No. What will he not do? He will not hurt you. A couple slaps on the ass is fine, so is choking but really anything beyond that is a no.

O: Oral, do they enjoy giving or getting? He LOVES eating your pussy, and I mean LOVES 😩. Any chance he gets he WILL eat you out, no questions asked. He does enjoy getting head too, looking down at you as you gag on his dick is like heaven.

P: Pace, slow or fast? Depends on the mood of course. He is a sucker for slow sex though.

Q: Quickie, how does he feel about them? He doesn't mind them, but he prefers longer...sessions with you.

R: Risk, does he take risks during sex? Sometimes.. if you two are at a house party he may take you into the bathroom and fuck you, intentionally leaving the door unlocked. And like I said he has a breeding kink...he will not cum in you if ur not on birth control.

S: Stamina, how long can they go? I feel like he can go for about 3-4 rounds if it's a kinky night ifykwim. But if its a slow and sensual moment probably 1-2 rounds.

T: Toys, do they enjoy using toys? You two probably have a couple of vibrators..maybe a Fleshlight for him.

U: Unfair, how much do they tease? He can be such a tease.. whispering suggestive things into your ear while you two are training.. lingering touches that leave you weak in the knees.. and finally when you two get home.. he'll fuck you over and over again.. with either his dick.. or his tongue.

V: Volume, are they vocal during sex? Finnick gets loud... His moans are like music to your ears..shit maybe his own. He loves to let you know how good your doing. Moaning praises everytime he fucks your face or your pussy.

W: Wild card (random headcanon). He loves to fuck your thighs..he doesn't even know why. Maybe it's the way they hug his dick while he pushes through them?.. Oh, and he DEFINITELY talks you through it. "There you go..." Or "Just like that..let go..I got you.'

X: X-ray, what going on down there? He's around, maybe above, the average. He's 6.3 inches, but he's got girth.

Y: Yearning, how high is his sex drive? I say it depends on you, but it's pretty high.. like i said he can go for 4 rounds.

Z: Zzz, does he fall asleep quickly after? Yes, he gets really sleepy after. All he wants to do is cuddle into you and rest. He can't decide if he likes fucking you to sleep or talking you to sleep more. Even though he's tired he can go on and on about random things, like the stars.

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A/N: HELLOOO my irl friend is gonna read this and I'm freaking out 🤗. Anyways hope you all like it <3

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Tag list: @babygorewhore @taintandviolent

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[ilguna]

☼ odds are (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; you and Finnick have never seen eye to eye, despite both being close friends with Johanna. it isn't until you save his life in the arena, does he see you different.

warnings; swearing, weapon use, blood, ehhh gore, death, drug mention, kinda starvation mention, suicide (mags), puke mention, the usual hunger games stuff.

wc; 9.6k

--

If there’s one thing that you’ve learned so far about the other district’s personalities since becoming a mentor, it’s that District Four produces the most annoying people by far. You don’t know if they’re born that way, or if it’s the water they drink, but they take that top spot without a close runner up.

Which is crazy, considering people like Enobaria and Gloss exist. They don’t know when to stop even when it’s obvious, yet they can be more mature than Finnick Odair is half the time.

He has the ego the size of a hovercraft and he just uses it to do whatever he wants to whoever he wants. He thinks that if he can smother someone enough, they’ll back down and let him have his way. Arguing with Finnick is truly like talking to someone who always assumes they’re right just because they’re older than you.

Except, in this case, it’s because he’s been mentoring longer, since he won ten years ago. It gives him seniority in calling the shots, or it does in his mind, at least. 

He wants to be the main ally that corrales Katniss and Peeta into doing what’s best in the arena. The problem with that is Katniss doesn’t like Finnick, which will make it a huge ordeal trying to get her to do anything for him. He seems to think that as long as Peeta trusts him, Katniss will follow.

Only, Peeta’s not a complete idiot and he knows how to think for himself. Beyond that, in a setting where there’s going to be twenty-two other tributes that have also won the Hunger Games in their own unique ways—Peeta’s going to follow Katniss’s lead. There’s not a single doubt in your mind that he’s going to let her take the reins and trust her to protect him in dangerous situations.

So, in the end, while Peeta might have his own opinions on what he’d like to do, he’s going to value Katniss’s opinion first. 

Finnick can’t seem to understand that. It doesn’t matter how you explain it to him, he doesn’t want you to be right. Even with Johanna standing here, telling him that you’re not wrong, he refuses to believe it. 

“You’re just going to make her mad.” You tell him again, throwing your hand up. “We all saw the way she looked at you yesterday, and today she’s gone out of her way to make sure she can’t talk to you.”

Finnick glances over in Katniss and Peeta’s direction. They’re on the far side of the Training Center, sitting with Cecelia from District Eight. This morning’s the last chance you get to train before the private session with the Gamemakers in the afternoon. From what you’ve been watching, they’re taking it easy.

“We already knew she wasn’t going to like me.”

“Does it have anything to do with the way you approached her during the parade?” You ask back, tilting your head. “You’re terrible at first impressions.”

“I am not.” Finnick’s face twists.

“Yeah, and that’s why we’re friends, right?” Your tone sarcastic. “I’m not asking for your permission, I’m going to tell Haymitch that you’ll meet up with us later on down the line.”

Finnick shakes his head. “That makes no sense. You are not a strong fighter, I need to be there to help with Katniss.”

“Katniss doesn’t need help!” You exclaim quietly. “What Katniss needed is someone she can trust, and that’s obviously me. I just spent the past two days getting to know her. She doesn’t want to be around either of you.” 

You then place your hand on Johanna’s shoulder, but she gives you a shrug. “I don’t care. She’s going to have to deal with me sooner or later. I have no preference.”

“You have basically no fighting experience, all you’ll do is get in her way.” Finnick tells you.

“Excuse me, I do know how to fight. I set the highest score when it came to hand-to-hand combat with a weapon.”

“When?” Finnick asks, not believing you.

“Today.”

“Bullshit.”

“Finnick, she’s not lying.” Johanna sighs. “And that’s besides the point. We can’t keep (Y/n) out of the plan just because you can’t get along with her. She’s right about Katniss.”

“I can and will keep her out of the fight.” Finnick tells Johanna, causing your face to scrunch up. “Who’s going to get to the Cornucopia first, you or me?”

“I’m not airheaded enough to think it’s me.” You snap back. “But—”

“Katniss knows how to swim, we saw it last year. She’s going to get there second. What stops me then?”

“Me, when I get my fucking hands around your neck.” You point at him. “What happens on the off-chance you chase her off? What’s your big idea then?”

“Haymitch is going to get me something to signal to her that we’re already allies.” Finnick shrugs. “I bet he didn’t talk to you about anything like that.”

“He doesn’t have to.” You laugh. “That’s the entire point. I don’t need him to signal to her about anything. She picked me as an ally on that first day. You can’t say the same. It says a lot about your character.”

“My character?” He’s unimpressed.

“No one likes you!” You shout at him.

“Okay,” Johanna says. “Let’s talk with Haymitch tonight, see what he has to say about the situation.”

“Fine, but I’m not spending the rest of my day with this idiot.” You tell her.

—

Monkeys.

At first, it was only a couple that were hanging above Peeta, who couldn’t be more oblivious. Now, a troop of them have gathered in the twilight in the time it’s taken you, Finnick and Katniss to assess the situation. They’ve completely appeared out of thin air, gathering on open branches.

And they’re all watching Peeta.

You eye Finnick, wondering what he’s thinking on how he wants to handle this. After all, he’s been directed to take charge in situations where Katniss and Peeta’s lives are in danger. Or rather, he asked Haymitch to make it official, because he couldn’t live with the idea that you might be the better fit.

Either way, there’s several different approaches you could take. Does he want to go to Peeta and guide him out of the jungle to make sure he keeps his head down or will that trigger the monkeys? You could try gathering around Peeta and set off the monkeys on purpose to ensure you’re in control, because they’re bound to go off anyway… right?

Or maybe it’s a better idea to lure Peeta out of the jungle and hope for the best?

Katniss makes a decision before Finnick does, carefully arming her bow with two arrows, just in case a fight shows itself. This causes Finnick to nervously adjust the trident in his hand, not ready for what she’s planning on doing.

You, on the other hand, trust her. 

“Peeta.” Katniss’s voice is calm, but there’s a slight edge to her voice if you listen closely. “I need your help with something.”

“Okay, just a minute. I think I’ve just about got it.” Peeta tells her, fiddling with the tree so he can put the spile in the bark. “Yes, there. Have you got the spile?”

“I do. But we’ve found something you’d better take a look at,” Katniss continues. “Only move toward us quietly, so you don’t startle it.”

Katniss has decided to lure Peeta out, then. It’s not a bad plan. With how the monkeys are tracking Peeta’s every movement, anything mildly offensive could cause them to attack. And since eye contact is a form of aggression, he needs to keep his head down.

Peeta turns to face the three of you, panting from trying to drill into the tree with the awl that Mags had passed over before she died. “Okay.” He agrees, not an ounce of hesitation.

He begins to come in your direction, but he’s not at all being quiet whatsoever. This is expected, he wasn’t last year, either. He’s not used to hunting or gently shuffling your feet through leaves. He worked in a bakery, carrying heavy bags over his shoulder.

It doesn’t matter, as long as the monkeys are holding their position—and they are—despite the amount of noise he’s making. He’s only five yards from the beach, where you’re standing, when he finally feels how off the air is. His eyes dart up for only a split second, but that’s all it takes.

Their shrieking fills the air, almost causing you to cover your ears at the pitch. The monkeys launch themselves off the branches and aim straight for Peeta, ready to kill. They’re too quick for your eyes, making them one blur. They slide down vines, jump from the trees with teeth bared, hacked raised and claws as sharp as knives.

You jerk forward, drawing your sword back to swing as soon as you get into range.

“Mutts!” Katniss blurts, in case you haven’t figured it out by now.

Katniss and Finnick take off after you. You swing hard, right at the first monkey that thinks they can get their paws on Peeta. The blade cuts right through fur, slicing skin right open, blood flying everywhere. The mutt collapses, struggling to breathe.

It’s just the first of many.

You move on, drawing Peeta in closer to protect him easier. Katniss shoots her arrows two at a time, taking down twice the amount of mutts you can. Finnick tries to keep up with her pace by spearing several of them at once and flinging them aside. Peeta can’t do much with his knife, but you’re able to keep them off of him with just your sword.

The fight grows harder the longer it goes on as you try to see through the darkness, breathing in the cloud of blood and must. Even as you end up back to back with your allies, it doesn’t get any easier. 

“Peeta!” Katniss suddenly shouts. “Your arrows!”

Peeta stops swinging, briefly looking over at Katniss to see what she means. In an instant, he begins to slide out of his sheath so that he can hand it over to her. He doesn’t even wait to make sure the coast is clear before he does.

“Peeta!” You blurt.

You swing at a mutt that’s already coming at you, catching the sight of another one flying out of a tree, heading in his direction. For a moment, you think you have just enough time to fling the monkey off your sword to save him, but the mutt at the end of your blade grabs your wrist, yanking you out of the formation.

You’re thrown into the jungle, a blur of green and brown passing by, until you hit the ground. You roll for a couple of feet, and then come to a stop, staring at the leaves above your head, trying to get a hold of your air. There’s a dull pain on the right side of your body from the impact.

And then you get back up.

Katniss is running for Peeta, hands outreached to grab him before the mutt does, but she’s too far. 

A body materializes from one of the trees, screaming, jumping in front of him just in time. The mutt’s claws swing inward pulling—who you believe to be—the morphling from District Six in for a deadly hug as it sinks its canines into her chest.

You’ve managed to regroup with them now. Peeta wiggles out of the sheath, letting it fall to the dirt so he can bury his knife into the monkey’s back. He stabs it repeatedly until it finally releases its jaw, kicking it away. Katniss retrieves her arrows, loading her bow, waiting for another attack.

You turn to look at the monkeys in the trees, curious to see what they’re doing. They stare back at you, unmoving, observing you the same way. Beside you, Finnick is breathing heavy, trident resting on the ground. He must think that the fight is over, then.

“Come on, then! Come on!” Peeta shouts at the mutts, trying to egg them on. 

They seem disinterested in continuing though, satisfied with the life they’ve taken, retreating. They disappear into the darkness of the jungle silently, and even though it appears they’re gone, it doesn’t feel like it.

“Get her,” Katniss says, she’s talking to Peeta. “We’ll cover you.”

You eye the morphling, who’s audibly wheezing, not quite dead yet, but she will be soon. Peeta carefully lifts her, turning to leave the jungle, the beach being a few feet away. Finnick motions for Katniss to follow Peeta, you don’t even bother to argue with him about who goes next after that.

There are several orange bodies on the ground on the way out. You step over them, wary of the possibility that they could be pretending to be dead. As soon as you step foot onto sand, a shiver runs up your spine, causing your neck to shrink into your shoulders.

You tense too harshly, the pain in your side returns. You can’t help the gasp that escapes you as you reach to grab your exposed skin. Since you no longer have a jumpsuit to protect you because of the poisonous fog, several cuts and scrapes have been inflicted across your skin.

“Cold?” Finnick asks, it sounds like he’s teasing. Before you can answer, he keeps going, “Or does your body hurt because you couldn’t handle some hand-to-hand combat?” 

You look over your shoulder to see him, eyes narrowed into slits. “You think you’re so funny.”

“What about my observation makes you think that I’m joking?” He asks, coming to a stop. “You just proved me right.”

“What are you talking about?” You ask, face twisting. “Prove you right, how? We’ve barely said anything to each other since the Cornucopia.”

“You have no fighting experience.” He tells you with a straight face. “You’re a danger to the alliance.”

You press your lips together, staring at him, holding back the urge to scream profanities in his face. 

What would he have liked you to do at that moment? You were occupied with a mutt, and Peeta just straight-up abandoned his job to give Katniss a sheath without thinking twice. You were off your game because you didn’t know what to do with a monkey flying at him, while trying to defend yourself at the same time. 

You’ll give it to Finnick, you made an error which could’ve easily have resulted in your death, but it didn’t. What he doesn’t realize is that you will learn from it, you don’t often make the same mistakes twice. You’re not a fucking child, either.

“You forget I was invited to the alliance.” You tell him, choosing not to engage in his behavior. “I don’t know why I bothered responding to you.” You start to move away from him. “All you’re capable of doing is criticizing people.”

You turn away from him, heading to Katniss and Peeta, who are hovering over the morphling girl. They have cut away the jumpsuit over her chest, revealing the four puncture wounds from the mutt’s fangs. There’s blood slowly running out of them, making the situation appear better than it is. 

She’s gasping for air, desperate for every lungful, holding onto Katniss’s hands, unable to control her twitching. A part of you wonders if she accidentally got caught up in the fog, but that can’t be the case. It has to be withdrawal, considering the green shade of her skin, her prominent cheekbones. She watches the clouds in the sky blankly, trying to hold on.

“I’ll watch the trees.” Finnick says, right before turning away from the scene.

You stare at the back of his head, and then turn your attention back to the morphling. Peeta moves to be on the other side of her, crouching down to gently stroke her hair, speaking quietly. “With my paint box at home, I can make every color imaginable. Pink. As pale as a baby’s skin. Or as deep as rhubarb. Green like spring grass. Blue that shimmers like ice on water.”

The morphling is completely encapsulated by his words.

“One time, I spent three days mixing paint until I found the right shade for sunlight on white fur. You see, I kept thinking it was yellow, but it was much more than that. Layers of all sorts of color. One by one.” Peeta murmurs.

Rustling of leaves drags you out of what he’s saying, you look over in time to catch the back of Finnick’s body, heading back into the jungle. You give a glance to Katniss, who seems to be in her own world at the moment, and decide that they can protect themselves for a moment while you have a conversation with Finnick.

You head straight in without an ounce of hesitation, following the sound of muttering, leading you straight to him. He’s picking the arrows out of the grass, swinging them out periodically to rid them of the mutt blood they’re soaked in.

“Listen,” You start, Finnick pauses long enough to look at you, before going back to what he was doing. “I get it, you don’t like me. The feeling’s mutual. I don’t need you up my ass about every decision I make. So, worry about yourself, and I will worry about me.”

“I’m not up your ass.” He scoffs. “I was pointing out what happened. You can’t fight, it’s a fact.”

“It’s not.” You shake your head. “While I was trying to kill the mutt, I was figuring out how to save Peeta, there was a monkey—”

Finnick holds up his hand, cutting you off. “I don’t need your excuse.”

You tilt your head at him, lips parted, actually speechless. You knew Finnick’s personality resembled a dumpster, but you’ve never experienced it yourself. It’s always been second hand retellings from your friends.

“Anything else?” Finnick asks after a moment of silence.

You’re stewing again. It’s insane how easy it would be to tear him down from the horse he sits on, but you can’t afford ruining the alliance. With how he’s acting, you wouldn’t put it past him to throw in the towel and tell you to do it yourself. Which you can do, it’s just a matter of whether or not you’d like to at this point.

While you’re glowering at him, thinking of a response that doesn’t end in the two of you fighting, something moves from behind his head. You take a step to the side, eyes searching the ground, but you quickly realize that’s not where it is. It’s up in the trees.

“What?” Finnick asks.

“We should leave the jungle.” You tell him, not wanting to mention it in case your eyes are playing tricks. “It’s not safe here.”

Finnick digs his heels in. “Now you’re being paranoid.” 

He turns around, going back to rummaging through the greenery to find the arrows for Katniss. He’s already got a good handful already, does she really need the rest? 

A branch dips, your eyes flicker to it.

Even though the sun is finally rising, the light hasn’t quite reached this part of the arena yet. You pat your hip for your sword, afraid of what’s to come, and realize that you left it out on the beach with the Twelve tributes.

“I’m serious, let’s go.” You tell him.

“I don’t care.” He says back, inching closer to the tree.

A hand creeps out of the darkness, a furry hand wrapping around the branch further down, as if preparing itself to launch at him.

You bite the inside of your cheek. You can’t lure Finnick out the same way that Katniss did to Peeta. And you can’t fight your way out of this situation without a weapon. As nice as it would be to turn around and leave him in here, knowing what’s behind him, you’d never be able to live with it.

“Finnick, just trust me this once. Katniss has enough arrows.”

Finnick stands, the movement is too quick, causing the monkey mutt to jerk into the light, revealing itself too soon.

“If you’re scared, you can go back to the beach, (Y/n).”

“Finnick, get down.”

He takes a step toward you, mouth opened to continue what he was saying. You watch in horror as the mutt’s body tenses, getting ready to attack Finnick. You rush at him, the same way the morphling did to Peeta.

“Get out of the way!” You shout, jumping to tackle him.

Finnick turns in time to dodge you and the monkey, putting you into each other’s path, forcing you to collide. The monkey’s claws dig into your skin as it throws you down, your head flying back. A sharp pain strikes your skull, your vision immediately going black.

A rough hand grabs the underside of your arm, jolting you awake. You blink quickly, trying to get rid of the blurry vision as you’re harshly brought back to reality. The person tries to pull you to your feet, but your legs aren’t ready for the weight. Your knees buckle, hand grabbing the shoulder of whoever it is to steady yourself.

The throbbing in the back of your head begins, feeling like a giant headache. You wince, gritting your teeth, pressing the heel of your hand to your temple. The back of your neck feels wet and sticky.

“Can you stand?” An irritated voice asks.

It’s Finnick, face twisted into a hard expression. The grip you have on his shoulder loosens, you lock your knees to keep from falling over. You’re trembling though, you can see it when you let go of him completely.

“Yes, I’ve got it.”

You reach back and dab your hand against the sore area on your head. Your fingers are coated in blood, shining in the sunlight that manages to escape the leaves. A sigh leaves your lips, hand falling at your side.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Finnick asks.

You shrug your shoulders. “There was a monkey in the trees.”

“You couldn’t have told me that?” 

“The same way we could’ve told Peeta?” You counter, and then motion to the jungle. “I didn’t know how many there were. I left my sword on the beach.”

“Another great idea of yours.” He says.

You don’t say anything to him at first, turning to go back to the beach. Just before you hit the treeline, you murmur, “A thank you would be nice.”

Whether or not Finnick actually hears you is a mystery, because he doesn’t respond. 

Katniss and Peeta are sitting together in the sand, side by side, looking out at the water. Your sword is tucked at Katniss’s side, right next to her bow. You come to a stop a foot or so behind them.

Finnick passes you, dropping the arrows in the sand. “Thought you might want these.”

“Thanks.” Katniss says. “Where’s (Y/n)?”

“I’m here.” You tell her.

You continue dragging your feet through the sand, wanting to go to the water to clean the blood out of your hair before it dries. Katniss comes to join you soon after, mostly to clean her weapons. When she sees that you’re having trouble, she carefully massages the blood out.

When you’re done, Katniss goes to get moss from the jungle to dry off her arrows. You sit in the sand with your sword, haphazardly playing with the blade.

“Where did they go?” Katniss asks.

“The bodies? We don’t know exactly. The vines shifted and they were gone.” Finnick says.

Katniss hums. The four of you sit on the beach in silence, staring at the water, watching the sky come to life. Katniss starts to scratch her arm, and then stops suddenly, looking at you, and then to the boys. You follow her gaze curiously, and find them scratching at their faces.

It’s the scabs from the fog, Katniss’s skin is covered in them, so is half of Peeta’s body and Finnick’s face. You, however, not so much. You were able to stay ahead of the fog, you thought to guide them out with the best possible path. Still, Peeta has trouble with his prosthetic leg and he needed support and…

Finnick never should have asked Katniss to carry Mags down the hill. You knew as soon as the words came out of his mouth that he was making a mistake. Katniss doesn’t have that sort of strength, she’s a skinny girl. She might’ve put on some weight since her Games, but it basically replenished what was taken in the first place.

He should’ve asked you. And even though you tried to object, he shut you down and told you to keep running. You didn’t have time to argue with the fog closing in, so you went right back to what you’d been doing before. It wasn’t even three minutes later when Katniss fell with Mags on her, causing Mags to take the situation into her own hands.

She kissed Finnick goodbye and walked into the fog.

None of you have mentioned it since it happened. You would like to say something to Finnick, but you’re sure it wouldn’t go over well with him. You can guess what he’d say back to you, taking none of your feelings about her into consideration. Besides, he seems to be holding it together pretty well, the last thing you’d want to do is accidentally send him over the edge.

“Don’t scratch.” Katniss tells them. “You’ll only bring infection. Think it’s safe to try for the water again?”

You don’t move from where you sit, letting them go back into the jungle to gather water. You’ve already had more than your fair share of injury in the past hour and a half, you’ll let them take their chances.

Peeta brings back a shell of water for you to drink, and even goes back one more time for a refill. You thank him and tuck the shell of water into the sand for later. 

“Why don’t you three get some rest?” Katniss asks. “I’ll watch for a while.”

“No, Katniss, I’d rather.” Finnick says.

There’s a moment of silence, and then Katniss concedes. “All right, Finnick, thanks.”

Katniss and Peeta lay down in the sand, you don’t bother. You turn your back to Finnick to ensure he knows you’re disinterested in conversing with him. You spend the next few hours picking the clumps of bloody sand from your sword and flicking them toward the water.

You’re not entirely sure what Finnick does, and you don’t really care. The more you think about him and the alliance, the more irritated you grow, causing your pounding headache to get worse. 

First, he tells you that he’s going to get you kicked out of the alliance by talking to Haymitch before you, and he nearly does. It’s a good thing that Haymitch doesn’t make rash decisions, otherwise you’d be on your own right now. He was almost convinced that you’d be more harmful than useful to the rebellion.

It wasn’t until Katniss made a comment about how much she trusts you, did he make up his mind and tell Finnick to deal with it. Katniss doesn’t like people easily. It was different for Mags, Wiress and Beetee because they don’t really pose a threat to her, and she doesn’t think that they’d go out of their way to kill her.

With you, all she told Haymitch was that it was easy to talk to you and she didn’t feel like she had to hide her true feelings. Which is an accomplishment and something you can use to your advantage later if needed. For right now, it’s pretty clear what she’s thinking even if she’s doing her best to hide it.

Anyway, Finnick doesn’t like that you don’t have to try with Katniss. And just like he told you in the Training Center, Haymitch had to give him a gold bracelet to symbolise to Katniss that he can be trusted. Which was funny when you found out at the Cornucopia.

Finnick was right, you didn’t make it there first—not that you thought you were anyway—but you did show up a minute later. Katniss was the one that saw you and welcomed you onto the island, despite Finnick trying to tell her not to. 

He’s been pretty pissed and cold since.

By the time Katniss stirs awake, it’s about midmorning. Your sword is clean, the shell cup empty of water, and you’re surprisingly feeling a little bit better. And it appears that Finnick has been busy this entire time.

He’d woven a grass mat and laid it on some branches to shield Katniss and Peeta’s faces from the sun. There’s two bowls full of fresh water, and a third that contains shellfish. 

He sits with them in front of him, cracking shellfish open with a stone. “They’re better fresh.” He tells Katniss, ripping flesh from the shell and popping it in his mouth. His eyes are puffy.

A tang of sadness hits you, you can’t imagine how difficult it’d been for him to cry silently with you sitting so close. His eyes lock with yours briefly before you turn away, getting to your feet. You brush the sand from your skin.

Katniss goes to reach for one of the shells but stops. She then holds her fingers close to her face, observing the blood beneath her nails.

“You know, if you scratch you’ll bring on infection.” Finnick says.

“That’s what I’ve heard.” She says, getting up to wash the blood off in the water. She stomps back up to you two a moment later. “Hey, Haymitch, if you’re not too drunk, we could use a little something for our skin.” She tells the sky.

A second later, a parachute swings out of the jungle, heading for her. She reaches up to catch a tube in her hands. “About time.” She says, going to sit next to Finnick in the sand. 

She unscrews the lid, squeezing the thick, dark ointment into her palm. Her face twists, whether it be from the color or the smell, and then begins to massage it into her leg. A sigh escapes her while she closes her eyes.

“It’s like you’re decomposing.” Finnick says after she hands him the tube. But looks must not matter to him for the moment, because he gives in and starts to treat his skin as well.

“Poor Finnick. Is this the first time in your life you haven’t looked pretty?” Katniss teases.

“It must be. The sensation’s completely new. How have you managed it all these years?” He asks back.

“Just avoid mirrors. You’ll forget about it.”

“Not if I keep looking at you.” 

Katniss offers the tube to you, but you hold up your hand, shaking your head. “I’ll be fine, save it for yourselves.”

“You’ve got a couple spots.” She motions.

“I’m good, really. But thank you.”

You swing your sword, and then wander away from them, trying to put some more distance so you can sit alone for a while longer. They wake Peeta up a few minutes later, and then you can hear the cracking of shells against rocks. You don’t bother to join them for the meal, you’re still full from last night.

You draw shapes in the sand, smooth them over to start over, and then write names. It isn’t until you’re on the third one, do you realize it's the names of dead tributes that you’ve mentored recently. You stare at them, mystified as to why you’ve chosen them, of all the people you know.

A scream from across the arena interrupts the silence of the arena. Your head jerks up, eyes searching the trees beyond the Cornucopia to find the source. A wedge of the jungle begins to vibrate, a huge wave crests over the trees, coming down the hill. You get to your feet, sword clutched tightly in your hand as you watch the wave hit the center water, and distribute evenly over the Cornucopia.

The wave that comes toward you reaches your knees, going as far back as the treeline, before retreating back to the center lake. Katniss, Peeta and Finnick gather their belongings before they float away. 

A cannon fires. The hovercraft appears over where the water had come from, dipping down to collect the body. The claw comes back with the body, and that’s the last you see of the hovercraft.

You go to sit back down when Katniss’s head whips in your direction. “There.”

You turn your head, curious as to what she’s found. It’s three people stumbling on the beach, one of them being dragged onto the beach by the second, and the third is wandering in circles. They’re red, blood red.

“(Y/n), get back here.” Finnick hisses.

You don’t move from where you are, squinting at the figures.

“Who is that?” Peeta asks. “Or what? Muttations?”

The second person dragging the first suddenly drops the body, throwing their arms down at their sides and stomping their foot in anger—a move that you recognize from someone else, but can’t place your finger on. It isn’t until the person marches over to the third one to shove them over, do you realize.

“Johanna!” You shout, delighted. “Finally!”

“(Y/n)!” She replies.

You run toward her, sword swinging at your side, excited that you’re not stuck with Finnick by yourself anymore. Johanna will be able to act as a buffer between the two of you, and she’ll be able to shut him down when he gets mouthy with you now. 

You throw your sword to the side, slamming into a hug with Johanna. The two of you rotate, her laugh is musical in your ear. You’re so happy that she’s alive, you don’t know what you’d do without her.

When you pull away, you motion at her. “What are you covered in?”

Finnick walks up beside you, “Hey, Johanna.”

“Finnick.” She says, and then she motions to the jungle. “We thought it was rain, you know, because of the lightning, and we were all so thirsty. But when it started coming down, it turned out to be blood. Thick, hot blood. You couldn’t see, you couldn’t speak without getting a mouthful. We just staggered around, trying to get out of it. That’s when Blight hit the force field.”

A small gasp comes from you as you cover your mouth. “Johanna, I am so sorry.”

“Yeah, well, he wasn’t much, but he was from home.” She sighs. “And he left me alone with these two.” She nudges Beetee with her foot, he doesn’t seem to acknowledge it at all. “He got a knife in the back at the Cornucopia. And her—”

Wiress has gotten back to her feet, wandering, murmuring, “Tick, tock. Tick, tock.”

“Yeah, we know. Tick, tock. Nuts is in shock.” She rolls her eyes, but at the mention of Wiress’s nickname, she’s drawn to Johanna, placing her hands on her. Johanna shoves her down to the beach. “Just stay down, will you?”

Lay off her.” Katniss snaps.

Johanna’s eyes narrow at her. “Lay off her?” She hisses. In an instant, she raises her hand and goes to slap Katniss, but you’re able to grab her wrist before she’s successful, pulling Johanna away from her.  “Who do you think got them out of that bleeding jungle for you? You—”

Finnick steps in, tossing Johanna over his shoulder, forcing you to let go of her while he brings her to the water. You listen and watch as she screams some really insulting words at Katniss, and then Finnick drops her into the water to silence her. He does this until she goes quiet.

Katniss and Peeta take Beetee and Wiress to the water to clean the blood off of them, since they’re both incapable of doing it themselves. You wander to join Finnick and Johanna in the water, despite the unwelcoming glares you receive from Finnick.

—

“Get up.” Katniss suddenly orders, shaking Peeta, Finnick and Johanna awake. “Get up—we have to move.”

It’s about noon, judging by how the sun is positioned directly overhead in the sky. It’s been a relatively quiet morning these past couple hours, mostly because the entire group has spent it napping on the beach. For a while, you were sitting with both Johanna and Katniss, but Johanna eventually got tired and laid down on the beach.

You’re not entirely sure why Katniss suddenly feels the need to move. The only event that has happened recently is an announcement of sorts from the Gamemakers. A bell tolled twelve times like it had late last night, and the lightning started again. It must mean something to her, because she stood up to look around the arena.

“What is it?” Johanna slaps Katniss’s hand away.

“I think the arena works like a clock.” She says, Peeta rubs the sleep out of his eyes, while Finnick squints at the surrounding jungle. “(Y/n), you remember last night when the bell tolled?”

“Yeah.” You pull your knees to your chest, watching her.

“It was because it was midnight, and the start of the clock.”

“Twelve bongs.” Finnick murmurs.

“Yes.” She nods. “Wiress figured it out first, that’s why she’s tick-tocking. She’s trying to tell us the arena’s a clock.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” Johanna says, shaking her head. 

“It does.” Katniss tells her. “Lightning at midnight, blood rain at two, poisonous fog at three, monkey mutts at four…” She trails off, assuming you get what she’s saying. 

Peeta’s nodding, looking down at the sand. “It’d explain why we had to deal with the fog and monkeys back-to-back.”

“So what’s going to happen now, then?” Johanna asks.

“Blood rain.” Finnick tells her.

The group of you sit in silence for a moment, digesting this. If she’s right, then that does mean you have to move, or at least get to a point in the arena where you can observe. After that, you could move from wedge to wedge to avoid what lurks in the jungle.

“What should we do, then?” Peeta asks.

“We need to move, get out of the way.” You say, looking at Katniss. “The Cornucopia?”

“That’s not a bad idea.” Johanna agrees.

Katniss nods. 

You break apart, going to collect your belongings out of the sand, securing them to your body to carry them with you. Finnick and Peeta work together to get Beetee back into his jumpsuit, now clean of blood. 

Katniss goes to wake Wiress, who’s been murmuring in her sleep this entire time. She jolts awake, grabbing onto Katniss’s arms tightly. “Tick, tock!”

“Yes, tick, tock, the arena’s a clock. It’s a clock, Wiress, you were right.” She tells her. “You were right.”

Wiress relaxes considerably, nodding a little. “Midnight.”

“It starts at midnight.” Katniss confirms.

Wiress nods at one of the wedges. “One-thirty.”

“Exactly. One-thirty. And at two, a terrible poisonous fog begins there.” Katniss says, pointing at a different area of the jungle. “So we have to move somewhere safe now.” Wiress smiles and stands. “Are you thirsty?”

As soon as the woven bowl is handed over to her, Wiress gulps it down. Finnick gives her some of the bread from a sponsorship you missed, she slowly chews on it. From what you can see, it’s the salty seaweed bread from District Four. Yuck.

You hand Katniss her weapons, watching her secure the spile and the tube of medicine to a square cloth of a parachute before using a vine to tie it to her belt. 

Beetee’s not entirely conscious, so Peeta goes to lift him out of the sand, causing him to stir and become deadweight. “Wire.”

“She’s right here.” Peeta says. “Wiress is fine. She’s coming, too.”

Beetee tries to push Peeta off of him. “Wire.”

“Oh, I know what he wants.” Johanna rolls her eyes, crossing the beach to pick up a cylinder. It’s still covered in a thick layer of blood, making it impossible for you to see what it is. “This worthless thing. It’s some kind of wire or something. THa’ts how he got cut. Running up to the Cornucopia to get this. I don’t know what kind of weapon it’s supposed to be. I guess you could pull off a piece and use it as a garrote or something. But really, can you imagine Beetee garroting somebody?”

You snort, she tilts her head.

“He won his Games with wire. Setting up that electrical trap.” Peeta tells her. “It’s the best weapon he could have.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Katniss chimes in. “Seems like you’d have figured that out.” She says slowly. “SInce you nicknamed him Volts and all.”

Johanna’s eyes narrow in her direction. “Yeah, that was really stupid of me, wasn’t it?” She asks. “I guess I must have been distracted by keeping your little friends alive. While you were… what, again? Getting Mags killed off?”

The air becomes hard to breathe, you steal a glance at Finnick out of the corner of your eye and find his eyebrows drawn in, thinking. You can’t believe Johanna just threw that out in the open. 

Katniss’s hand grips the knife on her belt.

“Go ahead. Try it. I don’t care if you are knocked up, I’ll rip your throat out.” Johanna tilts her head.

“Maybe we all had better be careful where we step.” Finnick says, trying to calm the situation. He gives Katniss a look, taking the coil from Johanna to set it on Beetee’s chest. “There’s your wire, Volts. Watch where you plug it.”

This allows Peeta to pick up Beetee without an issue. “Where to?”

“To the Cornucopia, like (Y/n) said.” Finnick says. “I’d like to watch. Just to make sure we’re right about the clock.”

One at a time, you approach the nearest sand strip, heading to the center island. You take up the very back with Johanna, who has her arms crossed, seething. Or maybe not, you can’t see her face at the moment. Every time Katniss tries to call her out for her behavior, you know they get closer to considering killing each other. 

The Cornucopia is barren of any Careers, allowing you to spread out and pick where you’d like to be in the mouth. The weapons that remain have been thoroughly picked-over, the only thing you could possibly grab now are knives. You don’t really have any specialty weapons. You had to teach yourself how to fight with a sword.

Peeta lays Beetee in the small bit of shae that does exist. As soon as Beetee’s comfortable, he calls over Wiress. She crouches beside him, and he hands over the coil of wire. “Clean it, will you?”

Wiress nods, and hurries over to the edge of the island. She dunks the coil in the water, quietly singing a song to herself about a mouse running up a clock.

“Oh, not the song again.” Johanna groans, throwing her head back. “That went on for hours before she started tick-tocking.”

She suddenly stops, standing up straight, coil of water in her hand, dripping watery blood onto the black rock. She points to the jungle. “Two.”

You look to where she’s pointing, and find a wall of fog seeping out onto the beach. 

“Yes, look, Wiress is right. It’s two o’clock and the fog has started.”

“Like clockwork.” Peeta says. “You were very smart to figure that out, Wiress.”

All she does is smile, and then she goes right back to singing and cleaning. “Oh, she’s more than smart.” Beetee says, coming back to life. “She’s intuitive. She can sense things before anyone else. Like a canary in one of your coal mines.”

“What’s that?” Finnick asks.

“It’s a bird that we take down into the mines to warn us if there’s bad air.” Katniss explains.

“What’s it do, die?” Johanna asks morbidly.

“It stops signing first. That’s when you should get out. But if the air’s too bad, it dies, yes. And so do you.”

This is clearly a topic of conversation that Katniss doesn’t want to participate in, so it drops. Johanna turns to head inside of the Cornucopia, flicking her short hair over her shoulder. Katniss and Finnick follow soon after, going to stock up their weapons.

Johanna comes out with a pair of axes, looking over the blades with a fairly impressed look. She then swings the axe forward, at the golden walls of the Cornucopia. Since it’s been softened by the sun, the blade sticks. Johanna grabs it with one hand and yanks it out.

You watch as Peeta draws a circle with his machete on a large leaf he took from the jungle. He seems to draw a map of the arena, with the jungle and beach having its own sections. And then he divides the circle into wedges. “Look at how the Cornucopia’s positioned.”

Katniss comes over to look, “The tail points toward twelve o’clock.”

“Right, so this is the top of our clock.” He says, going on to write the numbers one through twelve around his circle. “Twelve to one is the lightning zone.” He writes lightning in small print in the wedge, working clockwise to add blood, fog, and monkeys to the next three sections.

“And ten to twelve is the wave.” Katniss says, he writes it in. 

Finnick and Johanna come to see what they’re doing now. Tridents, axes and knives hanging off their bodies. Johanna pulls one of her knives from her belt, twisting it in her hand, holding the handle out to you.

You take it from her, holding it in your hands while you watch Peeta.

“Did you notice anything unusual in the others?” Katniss asks JOhanna and Beetee, but they haven’t experienced anything other than the blood. “I guess they could hold anything.”

“I’m going to mark the ones where we know the Gamemakers’ weapon follows us out past the jungle, so we’ll stay clear of those.” Peeta murmurs, drawing diagonal lines on the fog and wave beaches. He then sits back. “Well, it’s a lot more than we knew this morning, anyway.”

You look over the clock in silence.

Silence.

Your eyes dart up, and you find that Katniss is one step ahead of you, an arrow armed on her bow, pointed at a soaking wet Gloss. Wiress is sliding toward the ground, her throat slit open, it’ll be impossible to save her. The arrow slams into his temple, killing him instantly. Johanna is already on her feet, swinging her axe into Cashmere’s chest. 

The sound of sand crunching beneath boots causes your head to whip in the direction, finding Brutus and Enobaria running up the other side. A spear drawn back in Brutus’s hand, aimed in your direction. 

And furthermore, Finnick’s.

“Get out of the fucking way!” You scream, shoving Finnick down.

The both of you hit the sand, the spear whizzing right over your heads, where you had been standing seconds prior. It slams into the golden Cornucopia, the entire head buried in the structure. Brutus had thrown it with enough force to kill you both in an instant.

Two arrows are sent back by Katniss in retaliation, but neither of them must land, because she jerks forward to chase after them. Three cannons blast in quick succession, confirming three dead; Wiress, Gloss and Cashmere. 

Katniss disappears around the mouth, with Johanna and Peeta right behind her. You and Finnick are just picking yourselves out of the sand when the ground jerks beneath you. Your shoulder slams into the sand, and then you begin to quickly roll, as the rock island that the Cornucopia sits on begins to spin, fast.

You desperately reach out, trying to find a ridge to dig your fingers into, but you only come up with handfuls of sand. The jungle has turned into a blur of green and beige as you pick up speed, water turning to mist in the air.

You’re almost at the edge of the rock when a hand clamps around your ankle, stopping you from falling off. You’re left to face the water, dizziness beginning to overcome you, until you slam to a sudden stop.

The urge to vomit rises up your stomach quickly. You yank your ankle free from whoever it is that has a hold of you, quickly crawling to the edge to puke up water and bile into the water. You try to close your eyes to make yourself feel better, but all it does is speed up the rate that you’re spinning.

The throbbing in your head returns in full swing.

When you finally finish gagging over the rock, you pick yourself up from the sand, wiping it from your skin. The others have gathered together at the mouth of the Cornucopia, just as disheveled as you are. 

“Where’s Volts?” Johanna asks.

You sit down while they circle the Cornucopia to confirm he’s off of the island. Finnick apparently spots him about twenty feet out in the water, and dives in to retrieve him. Katniss, on the other hand, finds Wiress in the water, the coil still clutched tightly in her hands.

“Cover me.” She tells Johanna, racing down the strip closest to her body before diving in. She swims hard, battling the hovercraft on who will get to Wiress’s body first. She reaches her first, working to loosen Wiress’s fingers, and then comes back to the center island.

By the time she makes it, Wiress is gone, as well as the two other bodies that were floating in the water. Finnick lays Beetee down in the sand, letting him get a hold of himself again. Katniss places the wire in his lap, now clean of blood, sparkling in the sunlight.

Beetee unravels a small bit of the wire, running his fingers over it. It’s a pale golden color, and it’s incredibly thin. You know Johanna was joking about him using it to garrotte people but it would be completely impossible to. As soon as you’d tighten it, it would snap. 

For a while, you sit in silence together, catching your breath, wringing the water out of your clothes or shaking sand out of your clothes. When it appears as though you’re ready to move on, Johanna stands. “Let’s get off this stinking island.”

You’re forced to recollect your weapons, since they had been strewn across the island due to the spinning. Your sword and the knife Johanna handed you are relatively easy to find. While the others have to take a moment to dig.

Beetee tells Peeta that he thinks he can walk now, as long as he’s patient and willing to go slow. It’s better than carrying him again, so Peeta helps bring him to his feet. It’s then decided you all should go to the beach at twelve o’clock, because it should give you several hours before you have to face the jungle again.

Peeta, Johanna and Finnick head off in three different directions.

“Twelve o’clock, right?” Peeta asks. “The tail point at twelve.”

“Before they spun us.” Finnick reasons. “I was judging by the sun.”

“The sun only tells you it’s going on four, Finnick.”

“I think Katniss’s point is, knowing the time doesn’t mean you necessarily know where four is on the clock. You might have a general idea of the direction. Unless you consider that they may have shifted the outer ring of the jungle as well.” Beetee says.

You squint, face twisted. You would hope the Gamemakers didn’t shift the jungle too, that would give the entire secret of the clock away, wouldn’t it? But then again, you guess it doesn’t matter. 

“Yes, so any one of these paths could lead to twelve o’clock.” Katniss says, offering you a shrug when you look at her.

You circle around the Cornucopia as a group, picking out every detail of the jungle, only to discover that each wedge has been almost perfectly replicated. Katniss says something about how there was a tall tree in the lightning section that stood out, but now she can’t find it.

Johanna suggests following Enobaria and Brutus’s footsteps, but the sand has been blown away completely from the wind. Katniss lets out a heavy sigh, “I should have never mentioned the clock. Now they’ve taken that advantage away as well.”

“Only temporarily.” Beetee says. “At ten, we’ll see the wave again and be back on track.”

“Yes, they can’t redesign the whole arena.” Peeta says, trying to make her feel better.

“It doesn’t matter.” Johanna’s tone impatient. “You had to tell us or we never would have moved our camp in the first place, brainless.” She pops a hip out, crossing her arms. “Come on, I need water. Anyone have a good gut feeling?”

A path is chosen at random. At the beach, they peer into the jungle, trying to judge what could be inside.

“Well, it must be monkey hour. And I don’t see any of them in there.” Peeta shrugs. “I’m going to try to tap a tree.”

“No, it’s my turn.” Finnick objects.

“I’ll at least watch your back.” Peeta offers.

“(Y/n) can do that.” Johanna waves her hand. “We need you to make another map. The other washed away.” She yanks one of the leaves off of a tree to hand it to him.

“Wait, I didn’t agree to this.” You make a face, shaking your head.

“Then Katniss can go with you to keep the peace.” Johanna motions, Katniss nods.

You smile at her, but send a glare in Johanna’s direction, irritated that she’s already working to pair you and Finnick together. You’re tired of his presence and being forced to talk to him. You liked it yesterday when he was stubborn and refused to talk to you the entire day unless he had to.

Either way, you have no choice now. Finnick leads the way into the jungle. About fifteen yards in, he stops in front of a tree that looks like it’ll give you a good stream of water. He then holds his hand out, “Knife.”

“You have your own.” You tell him.

“Johanna gave you the best one.” He says, fingers beckoning for the knife. “It’s thinner.”

“You’ll make it dull.”

“Don’t be a pain.”

“Use your own knife.”

“No, I’m not ruining my own knives.”

“So you’ll ruin mine instead? Don’t you have like ten of them?” You motion at his belt. “Choose one of them.”

“I don’t want any of those.”

“You do realize that the knife is the only weapon I have beside my sword, right? You’re carrying like three different tridents, why don’t you use one of those?”

Finnick’s face twists at you. “Don’t tell me you’re actually that dense.”

“No, but you are.” You tilt your head at him.

Katniss shakes her head. “I know why Johanna sent me in here now.”

You look over your shoulder. “You can go, Katniss. We won’t kill each other.”

She purses her lips, thinking. “I’ve got to pee, so I’ll do that and come back.”

“Sounds like a deal.” Finnick tells her.

Katniss wanders off with her bow, heading deeper into the jungle, completely out of your sight. You look back at Finnick, who still has his hand out, waiting for your knife. You grab it begrudgingly, placing it in his hand. 

He starts to drill into the tree with the tip of your knife, ruining it immediately. You’ll get him back for this later. You’re not sure how, because trying to use his trident would make you look stupid. Maybe you’ll steal a knife off of him when he’s sleeping, since he seems to place a lot of trust in the others to watch over him.

The silence between you and Finnick is fine for the first few minutes, but you really don’t like standing over him like this without saying anything. You clear your throat, turning your body away so you don’t have to look at him.

“I’m sorry about Mags.” You tell him. “I didn’t know her well, but she was always kind to me when I was with her. I can’t imagine how you’re feeling.”

“I’m fine.” Finnick tells you. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not.” You shake your head. “I should’ve taken Mags during the fog, I could’ve carried her.”

“It wouldn’t have made a difference.” He mutters. “Either she died during the fog, or the monkeys, or even the Cornucopia. At least she didn’t suffer.”

You hum. “I guess that’s true.”

There’s a few beats of silence, and then he sighs. “You’ve saved my life twice now.”

You make a noise, not really interested in this topic. All he’s going to do is start keeping score. You’ll even bet he’s going to tell you he doesn’t want to be in your debt.

“Hardly.” You tell him.

“You saved me from the monkey in the jungle, and if you hadn’t moved me out of the way, I could’ve died because of the spear.”

“We could’ve died.” You correct him. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is.” Finnick says, he stops drilling into the tree to look at you. “I was wrong when I said that you’d get in the way.”

You shrug, not really feeling the need to thank him. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry.” He tells you. “Really.”

“Forget about it.” 

[leviathanspain]

little hell

finnick odair x reader

synopsis: you wished more than anything that he had left you to die in that arena, because nothing could hurt more than seeing him with her

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

watching their ceremony had felt like you had drank poison. a burning fire had been brewing in your abdomen, and as they kissed, you had to swallow the bile that threatened to come out.

finnick had turned to face the onlookers, and smiled as he held annie’s hand. only you could notice the smile faltering as he gazed over you, and you looked down, not wanting to look at him any longer.

you had abandoned the wedding early, excusing yourself with the pain in your leg, that hadn’t bothered you since your days in the infirmary, but it was good enough.

you fought tears until you got behind closed doors, where with the commotion of the celebration, hid away the noises of your sobs. finnick knew, and you too had known, that annie would always hold a flame to his heart, but it was you who allowed yourself to fall in love, and it was him who gave you the hope.

days later, a soft knock on your door rang out and finally you had peeled yourself out of your bed to answer it. you couldn’t hide your surprise when you saw it was katniss, looking pale in her grey jumpsuit.

you let her in without question, and moved to sit on your bed, with katniss closing the door behind her.

you raised an eyebrow, “katniss. honestly you’re the last person i would expect to be here.”

katniss didn’t say anything for a moment, until finally, “i doubt you expected anyone at all.” you let out a bitter laugh, and nodded, “i suppose you are correct.”

katniss nodded, “but i’m not. finnick has been asking about you.”

you scoffed, “why does he even care? he’s a married man, he’s with her..” you trailed off, “im just here, the other woman..” you trailed off, and katniss swallowed thickly.

“i cant say anything for him,” she admitted, “but i will say that he is horrible for what he did- and how he lied to you both.” you nodded, forgetting completely about annie, who was oblivious to his indiscretions.

katniss had stayed with you for another moment, where she sat in a comforting silence.

finnick had been looking for you throughout the compound. he had hug onto annie as she did to him, but his eyes would still clear a room looking for you.

he had finally found you, and pulled himself away from annie with just a good enough excuse.

he made his way to you, and you turned to meet his eyes. you rolled your eyes, and sharply turned back on your heel, your feet carrying you to somewhere you didn’t even know you were going.

finnick called your name, desperation in his voice, you felt him hot on your feet. without thinking, he grabbed your arms, and threw you against the wall.

you gasped, and turned to see no one had even batted an eye at his slight aggression, but you were now in no position to ignore him.

finnick swallowed, looking down, “i’m sorry. for having to do this but you won’t talk to me otherwise.” you nodded your head slightly, and sighed, “and?” finnick inhaled, “i should have told you about annie. i- i don’t know what i was thinking.”

“i don’t either finnick. if you had any fucking brains, you would’ve left me to die out there, so you wouldn’t have to see my face around here, and feel that guilt.” you felt your eyes rim with tears, and you sniffled, “you should’ve killed me. done the mercy, finnick. and there’s not a day that goes by that i don’t hate you for what you didn’t do.”

finnick exhaled, and his voice felt shaky, as did his grip on your hands, “i know. i should’ve told you about annie, i should’ve stopped it but-“ he shrugged, “i love you.” he whispered.

you blinked and tears fell onto your cheeks, “you cant say that. you cant say that!” you pulled your arms free and threw him back. finnick fell back onto the wall and stared at you in shock, “you don’t get to fucking say that.” you yelled, and felt yourself heat with anger.

you shook your head, giving finnick one last look before you left him there.

[queuestarter]

mirrors

(finnick odair x reader)

cw: mentions of sexual abuse and prostitution, talks of self hatred, ambiguous ending

→ reader comforts finnick when he's having a rough morning

open to submissions/asks !!

You know what kind of day it’s going to be as soon as you wake up.

Finnick’s not in bed anymore, which is unusual for him. He usually likes to stay in bed until well after you both have woken up. He likes to hold you against his chest, likes to whisper in your ear about everything and nothing. He likes knowing you’re there.

So when you wake up during sunrise and don’t see him next to you in bed, you can instantly tell something is wrong. You’re not worried or hesitant, you are more upset than anything.

Both you and Finnick have experienced the Hunger Games, so you’re no stranger to the nightmares that stem from it and bud out into real life. But when Finnick has nightmares, he tends to want to stay in bed rather than leave it, so you know that his terrors must not be what woke him up.

You sigh, getting up from the bed yourself. You smooth out the sheets and the duvet before grabbing your and Finnick’s mugs with old tea dregs in it to deposit in the kitchen sink. A pang of sadness hits you when you don’t spot Finnick at all during that time.

After throwing on one of Finnick’s knit sweaters and making two fresh mugs of tea, you set out to find your boyfriend, once and for all. It doesn’t take much looking- you find him sitting on the back deck overlooking the water.

“Finnick,” you say quietly so as not to startle him. “I brought you some tea.”

He doesn’t turn to look at you but by the way he flinches you know he heard you. You frown at his subtle action. 

“Go back inside. It’s too cold out here for you,” he eventually says after a long moment of silence. “I’ll be in soon.”

You don’t listen, instead choosing to sit on the step directly next to him, placing his mug on the table in front of you. “The tea will warm us both up.”

He finally turns his head to look at you. You try not to stare at the sight of the bags under his eyes or the way his frown has left a crease on his cheek. 

“What are you even doing here?” He asks, catching you off guard.

You don’t let the question faze you for too long before you respond easily, trying not to set him off. “I wanted to see you.”

He shakes his head before returning his gaze back to the water. “Not here, here. What are you doing with me?”

This question does cause you to raise your eyebrows. You set your mug of tea down next to his. “I’m here because I love you. You are the most perfect man in the world to me.”

You catch the way his face seems to melt at your words, how tears immediately come pouring from his eyes. Despite how hard it is, you don’t comfort him in fear of making his breakdown worse.

“I’m not. There’s nothing perfect about me. I’m dirty and used up.” He buries his face into his hands.

You’re speechless. You and Finnick have been together for a long time, and while he’s had moments where he feels like he’s not enough or that what the Capitol put him through made him less than, he’s never said anything like this. After a moment of processing his words, you try to soothe him by rubbing a hand up and down his back.

“Everything about you is perfect to me, Finn. And you are not dirty,” you say vehemently. “What they’re putting you through has nothing to do with you and everything to do with them.”

With his face still buried, Finnick cries out, “then why am I like this? Why can’t I live with it?”

You grimace. Every word he says resonates with you. While you were never sought after in the Capitol after your games in the same way Finnick is, you’ve seen the aftermath of the attention. You can’t do anything to change the past or what’s to come, but you can try to make things more bearable for him.

Afterall, he’s done so much for you.

“Can you tell me what happened, honey?” You dare to ask, hoping he’ll let you in.

He lifts his head up and turns back to face you. Your heart breaks at the sight of his watery eyes and red cheeks. “I just… looked in the mirror and hated what I saw. I hate my face for what it’s caused me.”

At this point you can’t help your own tears. “Finn,” you whisper. “There’s nothing wrong with you. There’s nothing wrong with your face, or your personality, or anything about you. Those people are the ones that are wrong. The people in the Capitol who are too evil to see the hurt that they’re causing.”

He nods. “Yeah.”

Not knowing what else to do, you wrap your arm around his shoulder and hold him until he tells you to stop. And when he does want to get up and go inside, you still say nothing as you make oatmeal for the two of you.

There’s nothing you can do or say to stop his torment. All you can do is promise to always be by his side.

-

[thedelicatearcher]

finnick but this time his partner is sick, not him??

finnick odair takes care of his sick partner

finnick odair never seems to get sick, his immune system has become unusually strong after receiving countless capitol treatments. he’s always bragging about it whenever you ask him to put on a sweater when it’s windy. and when he’s not showing off, he’s playfully sticking his tongue out at you whenever you gently scold him for going to bed with wet hair. yet, it’s his strong immune system that lets him take care of you without worrying about getting sick himself. 

you wake up early in the morning, your muscles aching and a deep fatigue settling in, as if you’ve just run a marathon. as you groggily open your eyes, you expect to find the bed empty since finnick usually rises early to go for a swim. to your surprise, you find his arm wrapped around your waist, his gaze adoring as he looks at you. 

“morning, sweetheart,” he murmurs in a husky voice, gently moving his hand from your waist to your cheek. “finn,” you attempt to whine his name, ready to complain about how terrible you feel. but when you try to speak, only a hoarse squeak escapes your lips; your voice is gone.

he can’t help but chuckle lightly at your sad expression, hurrying to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead at the sight of hurt in your eyes. “shh, sweetheart,” he coos immediately, “don’t overexert yourself.” your gaze reveals your confusion about why he’s still here, and he quickly explains that as he was preparing to leave for his morning swim, he kissed your forehead, like he always does before leaving, but noticed your skin felt warm, prompting him to stay and take care of you.

before you even have a chance to complain (or at least try, given your lack of voice) and insist that he should go out to enjoy his morning , he gently takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. “how are you feeling? where does it hurt?” his voice is as tender as his touch. his gaze softens as your finger weakly points to your throat, indicating your sore throat. however, just as you’re about to share more about your sickness, you’re interrupted by a sudden barrage of never-ending sneezes.

a loud gasp escapes his lips and his hand instinctively leaves yours to shield his face from your sneezes. his expression shifts from shock to amusement in a matter of seconds, a stark contrast to the dazed look on your face after the sneezing fit rattles you. as he wipes his face with the back of his hand, you find yourself burying your face in his chest. embarrassment, combined with the light fever, makes your cheeks burn as if they were on fire, and you try not to physically cringe after accidentally drenching your boyfriend in your germs.

to your relief, finnick is completely unfazed. “don’t worry, sweetheart,” he murmurs with a stifled chuckle, “it’s going to take more than a few sneezes to scare me off.” you nuzzle your face into his chest at his words, wondering to yourself, ‘is he really never going to get sick?’. despite your lingering embarrassment, the weight of exhaustion takes over, and finnick’s fingers softly playing with your hair are not helping your case. only a soft, tired hum escapes you before you finally surrender, drifting to sleep in his arms, now so tightly wrapped around you.

throughout the rest of the week, finnick is determined to help you feel better. he has you lying with your head in his lap, giving him space to gently massage around your nose and under your eyes, using a technique mags used on him when he was deeply congested. as he makes soft circular motions with his fingers, he gazes down at you with affection. it’s not usual for you to allow yourself to be so vulnerable and let someone else care for you, so his heart swells at the sight of your face relaxing under his tender touch.

every night, before slipping into bed beside you, the blond dedicates some sweet time in the kitchen to prepare a warm meal just for you. while he would have loved to make you chicken soup every night to soothe the soreness in your throat, he knows that even healthy people tire of the same meal five nights in a row, so he gets creative. he scours the district’s market in search of someone who can sell him applesauce, and whips up mashed potatoes when you feel your appetite fade. finnick odair never lets you go to sleep with an empty stomach. 

still, there were moments when all you want is to be held by your lover, to feel the warmth of his embrace wrap around you as shivers coursed through your feverish body. in those instances, it’s not just his arms you long for. it’s the sense of safety he provides to you as well. as his hands caress your back, you feel more loved than ever: in the quiet of the room, as he’s trying to comfort you through soft, soothing touches while your weakened, sick body clings to him. he never lets out a whine nor a complaint, always dedicated to making you feel cherished and loved. 

every day, you feel grateful to the universe for giving you your soulmate in such a gentle yet passionately devoted man. as you feel finnick’s warm body pressed against yours, his soft snores filling the room, you make a silent vow: to be just as supporting and caring when the shadows of another depressive episode creep into his life.

[flowersforjude]

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Finnick Odair x Fem!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | Finnick had every reason to not believe in God, but every reason to believe in her. 

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 1,406

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Religious themes, Mentions of torture and canon typical violence, Angst, Brief mention of Finnick’s su*c*dal ideology, Bittersweet reunion.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | Cried while writing this so enjoy my tears. This was requested by @heroinhchicblog222. You gave me creative freedom with this, so I hope it lives up to your expectations! <3

masterlist

Finnick Odair had never been a religious man. No matter how many Sunday services at the little coastal church his mother made him attend. He humored her for the most part. Because even though he thought her faith was futile, it was important to her.

There had been a time when he enjoyed going to church with her. When he was still a small child full of notions of grand tales and curiosity. But that was before he was eaten alive by the Games. Before, it’s huge jaws closed around him and crushed his bones and spirit alike. The arena had made sure that even if he survived, he’d never be whole again.

And how could he believe in any god with only half a soul? Why would he have faith in a god who let that happen? No higher power was watching over him or any of the other children who became victims of the Games. 

He remembered a tiny silver cross his mother wore. It was always hanging around her neck on a dainty chain. His little brother loved to wrap his chubby toddler fingers around it. 

Finnick had asked once if she had always had that necklace. She wore it so often that it seemed like a part of her. Just like her eyes, that always looked at him with tender affection, and her hands, that always stroked his cheek after a nightmare. His mother told him it had belonged to her mother. That she’d had it since before the war, and she told her it kept her safe. When his grandmother passed when Finnick was still a baby, she left it to her daughter. 

“Nana said that as long as she wore this, she knew God would guard against any evil,” his mother recited. 

But how could she believe that? When he himself knew how people starved during the war. When so many lost everything. His grandmother was an orphan by the end of the war. God did not protect her or anyone else. Because a god who would let all that suffering happen wasn’t a deity worth worshiping. And that same cosmic being sits idly by and allows child after child to be sacrificed to the whims of those who think themselves better. 

Though now, he thinks he’s found something that he could put his faith in. Something that could show him the blind devotion that his nana and mother relied so heavily on.

Hope was a big part of having faith because to have one, you have to believe in the other. He gives his mother and nana a little slack now that he’s tasted that euphoric cocktail of conviction. It’s a potent thing, and to Finnick, it’s the worst thing that could have happened to him. It’s more powerful than the hatred he has for Snow and the Capitol. He likens it to nervousness, to fear. Except it doesn’t cripple him. It weeps inside of him, crawls up his throat, and pours out of him like the sweetest honey. 

It gives him the gift of volition—the drive to break away from the terror that haunts him. The will to live. The hunger for change. 

And that is why it’s the most awful thing that could have befell him. Because not only does he have himself to concern with, he has her. 

She changes him. Makes him into this man that wants again. He dreams and he hopes, but right now he’s trying to convince himself that his faith won’t be ripped away from him. 

He’s spiraling down the dark abyss of fear because, what if? What if he goes to the med bay and the one person, he believes for is taken from him? His will, his hunger, his want. What if it’s all gone? Because she’s gone, and she’s taken everything with her. 

It is an agonizing thing to be half dead and half alive. So many times, he thought about how he could end it. Just a few minutes too long under the water. Or if he needed it to be quick, a bullet for his last meal would work just fine. But he can’t think like that anymore. 

Because he doesn’t know if she’s gone or not. If she’s left him and stole away everything good in the world with her. There’s a chance, he tells himself. He could see her again, hold her, kiss her, love her. 

So he’s pushing past everyone running around in the halls. Paying no mind to all the people he’s bumping into, and all the annoyed looks thrown his way. He aches still, and his body screams at him. But he’d been to hell and back more times than he could count. His joints and muscles could complain all they wanted. Knowing mattered more. She mattered more. 

He can picture her the way she was before. Because he’s sure that if she survived, Snow at least got his fill of ruining her. The girl Finnick adores more than the salt in the air or the smell of Mag’s peach cobbler. For that alone, they would have butchered her. He’s falling again, so instead of that, he thinks of her smile, her laugh, and the way her nose scrunches when she is annoyed at him. 

Fuck, how he wants to see that smile again. Hear that giggle and coax out that scrunch. 

He runs, then, faster than he ever has before. He knows he’s going to have to make some serious apologies at some point. But courtesy can wait. She can’t. 

The harsh lights of the med bay hurt his eyes, but he looks around. Turning a circle and staggering like a drunk. 

Hands catch him by the shoulders, and he almost throws a punch. But then Gale turns him around to face him. “Where-where is she?” Finnick asks. His voice sounds foreign, like the breaking of glass almost. 

“I think you need to calm down first.” Gale answers, not unkindly, but Finnick is so wound up that it angers him. Because no, he needs to see her. Until then, there is no calm. So, he pushes Gale away from him. Eyes darting widely around the med bay once again. 

“Where is she?” He asks out loud to anyone who could tell him. “Where is she?” He wonders if this is what being hijacked feels like. But then he tells himself maybe it’s just being in love. Love can make a person insane, and right now, that’s what he feels like. He’s going to fly off the handle if someone doesn’t start talking to him. Because why aren’t they?

A doctor walks right past him, nose in a clipboard with some paperwork on it. Finnick imagines gripping that doctor by the hair and tearing his throat out with his bare hands. He starts yelling her name over and over and over. His voice breaks among the syllables.  

But then…

“Finnick!” He hears her voice so loud and clear, like a crack of lightning across the sky. He doesn’t see her until she collides with him, almost knocking him down. But he clutches her to him, probably too tightly, but she says nothing. She tears at his back, her nails digging into his skin under the fabric of his shirt. But he doesn’t care because if he’s feeling that, then that means he’s feeling her. 

"Finnick." She whispers quietly this time as if convincing herself that he's really here. Her face is buried in his neck, and he can feel her breath fan out across his skin.

She pulls back, and Finnick thinks he might cry, but then she’s kissing him, so he knows he’s going to cry. He can’t breathe between the tears and her lips still on his. He doesn’t give a fuck, though. He lets her kiss him for as long as she needs, because he knows she needs that right now. Being without her here in Thirteen was hard enough. What she went through in the Capitol paled in comparison. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He’s mumbling against her lips. Salty tears falling into their mouths.

And she’s saying back, “It’s okay. I’m okay.” 

It’s not okay; nothing bad that’s ever happened to her was okay. But she’s here now, and he’s got her, and he’s never letting her out of his sight again. 

Standing there, drinking in her holiness, Finnick finally realizes what true devotion feels like.

The words just poured out of me with this one. Love when that happens.

[rabbitsrants]

PROOF THAT SHINRAN IS ONE OF THE MOST BRILLIANTLY WRITTEN ROMANCES OF ALL TIME - PART 4

symbolism

disclaimer: gosho's imagery is subtle and therefore often overlooked, so in order to highlight it, i'll be referencing the work of suzanne collins, an author who tends to spell out her metaphors more

sharks

chapter 882-884

how the case begins:

how it progresses:

this isn't gosho's first time exploring the theme of sharks in the manga:

chapter 311

both shinichi and haibara relate to sharks, they're self-admittedly drawn to blood and darkness. but why?

haibara was born into it, she didn't have a choice... and even though she's no longer a part of the black organization, she still carries the past with her.

shinichi on the other hand? he seeks it out. he directly confronts it, because he wants to defeat it. his unfaltering idealism is what pushes him to be a shark.

ran is very idealistic too, which i talk about here. so why doesn't she act like a shark?

"Finnick knows then what Haymitch and I know. About Peeta. Being truly, deep-down better than the rest of us." - Suzanne Collins, Catching Fire Chapter 19

the closest that gosho comes to spelling it out like this, is haibara's line about ran "i'm up against dolphin, one of the most loveable creatures in the ocean"

ran's defined by more than her virtuous nature, she's also unbelievably compassionate and sensitive. that's what makes her a dolphin.

her unmatched kindness is constantly displayed throughout the whole manga.

sometimes it irks shinichi:

chapter 787

sometimes it hurts him:

but most of the time it baffles and touches him:

chapter 258

now i'm going to say something that might be controversial: from what i've gathered, shinichi doesn't just appreciate ran's tender heart... he depends on it.

and i'm not saying that lightly, i'm aware that ran's caring nature affects a lot of dcmk characters - it's the reason why vermouth calls her an angel, why haibara refers to her as a dolphin and sees her as a sister figure, hell, it's the reason why kogoro's able to function most of the time.

but i'd still argue that nobody relies on it the way shinichi does, which brings me to the next symbol i want to analyze:

cherry blossom

flowers can represent a variety of concepts, depending on your source and in what context you use them for your writing. the same rule applies to cherry blossoms.

gosho's used it as symbol for justice in the past:

chapter 687

it's interesting to look at it through that lense, but i don't think that's what the cherry blossom represents for shinichi.

after doing some research, i came to the realization that cherry blossoms are widely believed to symbolize hope and the beginning of spring.

i think that interpretation makes a lot more sense for shinran. especially if we examine their first interaction:

chapter 924

shinichi shows ran his deduction skills to impress her... ironically he ends up impressing everyone but her. shinichi's condescension leads to a full-blown argument:

but then something completely unexpected happens... despite the fact that they don't know each other, despite the fact that shinichi insults ran, despite the fact that ran's completely put off by his arrogance, despite all of that... she offers him a cherry blossom and along with it the kindest smile he's ever seen:

and i just can't help feeling like ran's cherry blossom is symbolically very similar to suzanne's dandelion:

"I found him staring at me  from across the school yard. Our eyes met for only a second, then he turned his head away. I dropped my gaze, embarrassed, and that’s when I saw it. The first dandelion of the  year. A bell went off in my head. I thought of the hours spent  in the woods with my father and I knew how we were going to  survive.  To this day, I can never shake the connection between this  boy, Peeta Mellark, and the bread that gave me hope, and the  dandelion that reminded me that I was not doomed. And more  than once, I have turned in the school hallway and caught his  eyes trained on me, only to quickly flit away." - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games Chapter 3

"What I need to survive is not Gale’s fire, kindled with rage and hatred. I have plenty of fire myself. What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again. And only Peeta can give me that." Suzanne Collins, Mockingjay Chapter 27

and clearly, only ran can give that to shinichi...

let me further elaborate by revisiting the shark analogy:

the most beautiful dolphin in the sea sees a shark like him, calls him out on his bluff and instead of avoiding him, she actually welcomes him. ran shows him genuine affection, despite having so many reasons not to. how could he not fall for her?

for someone like shinichi, a cool shark who's able to recognize other predators in the sea from such a young age, seeing the innocence and warmth of a dolphin is pivotal for him, because it reminds him that there's so much more to life than constantly familiarizing himself with other sharks (in his childhood by reading and later by investigating them)... there's good too.

to summarize... shinichi sees a delicate cherry blossom, a gentle dolphin and holds on to her for dear life. he desperately clings to the promise of hope and spring, he depends on her affection and warmth. he needs ran, because without her winter would never end, he'd never escape to coldness of the sea, he'd freeze.

which explains why

a) he's so protective of her

b) ran's smile serves as a compass for shinichi throughout the whole story - while his mind is busy chasing sharks, shinichi's soul is persistently searching for the same smile that strummed his heartstrings all these years ago. which is why he immediately notices when ran's not okay (even though she's very skilled at concealing her pain) and why he always tries to make her feel better

and that's ultimately why

a) shinichi's keeping his identity a secret

b) he's so focused on getting his old body back

without ran, shinichi wouldn't have a constant inner conflict as conan, without her, he'd lack purpose and as a result, detective conan would be empty and lifeless.

ran's not just a love interest y'all...

she's the heart of the entire manga.

visit the shinran library for more

[cowboylikehim]

You Missed My Heart. Finnick Odair

set in d13, r was at the capital after the quarter quell and doesn't remember finnick fully. requests open!!

You hug your knees, feeling your heart swim around in the deep blue, murky feeling in your chest. these days it feels more like drowning, the guilt and uncertainty acting as concrete boots, keeping you stuck to the hospital bed. You've found yourself thinking more with your heart these days, brain left in numbness after months at the capitol. It's a scary thing to rely on your intuition, to trust that your heart will remember what was beaten out of your brain. Survival has always been part intuition and part logic, a tightrope many victors learn to walk. This kind of intuition is new, less picking up of lies and body language and more learning not to outrun the sickening vulnerability building inside you.

He knocks before he comes in, gentle knocks on the door. The door's always open anyway, the doctors don't let you close it all the way, but the light introduction is always welcomed. You enjoy the way the knocks pull your gaze to the door, seeing the look in his eyes. Finnick always smiles gently, asking if he can come in. You say yes, the vulnerable feeling filling up your chest slowly.

He knocks before he comes in, smiling at the way you immediately look up at him. The first few weeks he knocked to give you a warning of his presence. He would frown slightly at the panicked look on your face, how you'd curl in on yourself, trying to make yourself take up as little space as possible. Throughout time you'd settled more, no longer feeling that surge of panic but he still knocked. He loved the way your eyes soften once you see him, if only for a second. How the corners of your mouth would turn up, shoulders lowering once he knocked. He knocks before he comes in, smiling warmly at the small glimpses he catches of who you were before.

"Hey, sweetheart." He waits by the doorway. "Can I come in?"

You nod, turning your body to face him. You feel your heart ache with a feeling you know well but can't name. You wonder often if you felt this way before the Capitol sunk its teeth into you, you wonder if you gave it a name, you wonder if it was a welcomed feeling then. You've become close to this feeling throughout your recovery at District 13. It's part adrenaline and excitement, maybe at one point described as butterflies in your stomach. Now it's a sense of unknown familiarity reeking of vulnerability that feels more like a cliff, wondering if you'll take a step too far.

He walks in slowly, sitting down on the edge of the bed, far enough to give you lots of space but close enough that you can smell the slight scent of gunpowder on him. You don't know why but the smell makes you feel like you've lost something. You frown slightly, wondering what he smelled like before, and why now it makes your chest ache.

You look over his face with your eyes, scanning between his jawline, his eyes, and his nose hoping that if you memorized everything about him it'd spark something in you. It only makes the sickening flutter in your chest grow, a terrifying feeling that makes you want to scoot closer to him and hide at the same time. "Hi. It's nice to see you."

He smiles, tracing over the faded schedule written on his arm, you notice the section with your name far more faded than the rest. "It's good to see you too. I missed you."

He keeps his distance, moving his thumb back and forth over his arm. You're not too sure you want him to. "I missed you too, I think."

"You think?" He chuckles lightly, lightheartedly teasing. The tone feels like a hometown.

"Yeah. At least, my heart missed you." You look down at your hands, softly picking at the cuticles. You shake your head as you speak, "I don't remember much but I feel it, I guess, if that makes sense."

He hums, "It makes sense. My heart missed you, too. What does it feel like?"

You take a shakey breath, the intense and murky uncertainty creeps up in your throat. "Weird." He laughs at that. "Like I'm forgetting something I shouldn't have, which I guess I am. You feel right, familiar. I just- I like you. It's just scary not remembering why. But I don't want you to go away."

He gently takes your hand, stopping you from continuing to pick at your cuticles. His thumb is stained lightly with black ink from the writing on his arm. The pain in your chest feels a little more like welcomed lovesickness. "M' not gonna go away if you don't want me to. You're doing so good."

You smile at the words before a crease appears on your forehead. "I feel guilty sometimes. I can tell I loved you a lot. It hurts my heart, in a good way, I think. I know you love me. I just wish I could give you more than this."

He breathes deep, thumb still moving back and forth over the back of your hand. He takes a moment before speaking. "This is more than enough. You are always more than enough. You were my best friend before you were anything else, sweetheart."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You squeeze his hand softly. It's barely noticeable. He's unsure if you even meant to but his face breaks out into a wide grin. You spend the rest of the allowed time talking about your days. The black ink from his thumb will end up on your hand as he continues his motions back and forth. Eventually, he gives your hand one last squeeze before standing up to leave.

"Finnick?"

"Yeah?" He turns to you.

"See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow, angel." He gazes at you with a look in his eyes that makes you feel warm. The smudge of black ink shines in the cold lighting of the room, something you'll continue to trace occasionally until he knocks again tomorrow.

[allisluv]

i got this idea from somewhere i don’t remember where but finnick x reader with a facial scar (from her games) and she covers it up with makeup bc shes insecure abt it but he convinces her not to bc he really likes the scar

bizarre stories.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

content warnings: hurt/comfort, use of pet names (my love, angel, baby), insecurity, reader has a scar on her face but it's not specified why or how she got it, background everlark.

word count: 0.8k

a/n: if this has been written before pls lmk!! reblog and comments are highly appreciated <3

Finnick rolls up the sleeves to his white dress-shirt, and fixes his collar before leaving the en-suite and heading into your shared bedroom. “Are you ready yet, angel? I know dinner is at Peeta and Katniss’ place, but Johanna will throw a fit if we’re late.”

You chuckle under your breath but don’t look away from your reflection in the mirror. A concealer stick is balanced between your fingertips as you apply the make-up to your face. “Yeah, I know, I know. I’ll be ready in a second. Just need to finish this.”

Finnick hums and sits down on the edge of the bed, watching you watch yourself in the vanity mirror. A frown tugs at the corners of his pink lips as he mulls his question over in his head. “Angel?” 

You hum to show you’re listening. 

“Can I ask you something?” His voice is casual, but there’s a more serious undertone hidden in there that you have to be really listening for to hear. 

You hum again and spare him a glance before going back to your reflection. “Course you can.”

Finnick hesitates, but he knows that he has to ask. If he doesn’t, it’ll just nag him for the rest of the night. “Why do you do that?” 

Your brows furrow ever so slightly. “Do what, babe?”

“Why do you cover your scar when we go out?” He can see your shoulders tense up as you sigh and cap the concealer stick. He rushes to backtrack, making sure to keep his voice soft and gentle. “I don’t want you to think I’m judging you or trying to berate you or anything like that. I’m not. I’m just… curious, is all.”

You purse your lips and lift your shoulders up into a shrug. “I don’t know, really.” 

Finnick doesn’t believe you, and it’s clear with the way he arches a brow. Still, he doesn’t call you out on it; he really doesn’t want to make it seem like he is on your case, because the truth is, he isn’t trying to be. He keeps his mouth zipped shut and waits to see if you elaborate. 

It takes a minute for you to start talking again, and he can tell theres a nervous, almost vulnerable, edge to your voice when you speak again. 

“I just… I’m sick of it being the first thing people see when they look at me. I’m sick of the constant questions that come with it and feeling like I’m an animal to be ogled at in a zoo. I’m fed up of feeling like it makes me less of a person; like the fucking scar is my only distinguishable feature. It makes me feel like I’m not worthy of love and I’m not pretty and—”

“Angel.” Finnick cuts you off firmly but gently, and pulls your chair over to the edge of the bed. His legs are sandwiched between yours as he reaches up and cups your face in his hands. “I need you to listen to me for a minute. You think you can do that?” 

You huff out a sigh, but nod your head nonetheless.

“Your scar does not make you unlovable or any less gorgeous. Your scar is part of who you are, and I get that it can suck at times but it doesnt make me think any less of you. In fact, I think it makes you even hotter.”

“I wasn’t fishing for compliments.” You insist, but he gives your face a gentle squeeze and you quieten down after that. 

“I know. I know that isn’t what you were doing, my love, but I need you to know that I dont see you any differently just because of a damn scar.” He pauses to take a breath. “You wanna know what I see when I look at you?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “I see a gorgeous, beautiful, strong, stubborn woman who I couldn’t be any more in love with.” He smiles. “I think it’s badass, anyway.”

You quirk a brow. “You’re not just saying this to make me feel better, right?”

Finnick scoffs. “Come on, angel, when have you known me to sugar coat the truth just to make you feel better?” 

You sigh. “Fair point, well made.” 

Finnick pulls you closer until you’re straddling his waist. He kisses your forehead and murmurs, “So, how would you feel about taking off that concealer while we go out tonight?” He can feel you tense in his arms and he rushes to reassure you. “You don’t have to, angel. There’s no pressure.” 

You sigh and relax in his arms. “Fine. But if anyone says anything, I get to make up a really bizarre story on how I got it and you have to go along with it.” 

Finnick laughs. “Deal.”

[targaryenluvs]

ok ok but imagine dark!gimmick somehow falls in love with capitol!reader (a client of his) but she doesn’t want him unless she’s paying for him or wanna love him back so he does everything in his power to have her, threatens to share the secrets she told him that will probably have her hanged and so with that they live happily ever after 😆

UNREQUITED

pairing: dark!finnick odair x fem!capitol!reader

summary: you’d divulged one to many secrets to your favourite victor and he wasn’t afraid of using them against you. karmas a bitch!

warning: blackmail, prostitution mentions/insinuations, nc sex and pillowtalk??

a/n: bros getting revenge or som

the first time you saw him you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. you’d heard of people being able to visit victors away from prying eyes and the idea seemed boring until you remembered he existed. so why not take advantage of your station?

finnick was hoping for one night of reprieve but of course, he had someone to visit.

the card in his hand felt heavy and as he unlocked the room he stopped in his tracks. you were sitting on the bed with a flute of champagne in your hands. you were gorgeous, and for once he felt okay with it.

“finnick?” your voice was like music to his ears as he came closer. he nodded and you pressed your lips into a tight line, “it’s nice to meet you.” nice to meet you? are you stupid? god you had no clue what to say since you were literally forcing this man to be with you.

“so.” he laughed, “so.” he took the flute away from you before getting you standing, “where do you want me sweetheart?” you smiled.

and all the previous tension faded away throughout the night, finnick was amazing.

it had been months since your first time together and you’d only grown more comfortable with eachother. you liked him, he was nice. and he was obsessed with you. every time he saw you he knew what would be happening the following night and he could hardly wait. with you he took his time and focused on you the whole time, he loved trying new things with you, making you scream.

and afterwards you’d sit and cuddle, and at times even kiss. he was a nice stress relief for you, he always listened to your concerns and problems. your arranged boyfriend, the politician, and his like for younger men. his affinity for dipping his hand into the company savings, even though you were well off. your brothers and their mistresses, your parents and their expectations.

finnick listened intently, gave advice and was actually helpful. you were grateful to be able to get it off his chest. but finnick wasn’t going to let you go.

“i think we’re getting engaged soon.” finnick shut his eyes to calm himself down, it didn’t work. “no you’re not honey.” you cocked your head to his side, “what do you mean?” he smiled and it was so fake, “you’re meant to be with me, y/n. and you will be with me. do you know how much you’ve told me? about him, your friends and family?”

your eyes widened as you got up, covering yourself with the sheet. “i’ve already seen you, all of you there’s no reason to hide.” he pulled the sheet away as you covered yourself with your arms, “i’ve had enough of you finnick. get. out.” you enunciated before crawling away. he grabbed your ankle and pulled you back to him.

“i told you you’re not going anywhere. do you want me to let it all out? let everyone know every, single, dirty secret y/n?” your eyes welled up as you threw your head to the side, not wanting to look at him, “please finnick, just let me go.” you felt his chest vibrate as he chuckled. his fingers dug into your face, forcing you to look at him.

“say you’re mine and i’ll let them go.” you shook your head, thrashing against him to get away. his other hand bruised your hip with an iron grip. “fine!” his smile was sickly sweet as he began to kiss his way down, on the insides of your thighs as his strong hands held you down whilst you began to buck your hips up. “please finnick.” he looked up at you from between your legs and grinned.

“now you’re not so bossy huh?”

he had what he wanted and you were sure he wouldn’t let you go.

[avoxrising]

The Feral One • Ch 13

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

Johanna thinks men are stupid and she doesn’t respect them (pls tell me someone gets this reference)

Content Warnings - your fave is an idiot (for now)

District 13 is lonely. They still won’t let you have any visitors and haven’t quite determined if you are safe yet. Their constant dismissal of your words reminds you of why you went mute all those years ago.

“Please,” you beg one of the doctors. “What do I have to do to prove I’m not a danger? You released Annie a week ago.”

“Miss Y/L/N I am not approved to clear you. That decision is made elsewhere,” the doctor responds.

“Then let me speak to whoever’s in charge!” you demand. “There has to be some way for me to show you all that I’m harmless.”

Ten minutes later you are sitting in front of a lady named President Coin. Your hands and feet are still cuffed but they gave you a jumpsuit to wear instead of your hospital gown. They wheeled you over here in a wheelchair despite your constant reminders that you could walk just fine.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Coin states. “What can I do for you?”

“I want to be released from the hospital,” you firmly state. “I’m of no danger to anyone here.”

“I’m afraid we cannot do that,” Coin replies.

“Why?” you ask.

“It was risky enough to bring you to thirteen,” Coin explains. “We can’t have someone as rogue as you wandering amongst the general population. It’s too dangerous.���

“How many times do I have to explain to you that I’m no longer a danger to anyone?” you practically shout. “They didn’t hurt me in the capital. They gave me some treatment that made me better. I’m not feral anymore.”

“And how am I supposed to believe that?” Coin asks.

“I didn’t talk to anyone for five years besides Finnick,” you snort. “You think I’d be talking to you if I wasn’t healed?”

“That is a fair point,” she sighed. “Maybe we could come to a compromise. I won’t permit your release yet but I will allow you to have pre-approved visitors on the condition that a soldier can monitor the visits and administer sedative if necessary. We can revisit this arrangement in two weeks and adjust based on results.”

“Fine,” you huff. “I just want to see Finnick.”

An hour later, Finnick comes to visit. You reach out to pull him onto the bed with you but he sticks to the edge of the room, sitting down in a chair in the opposite corner.

“Finn,” you whine. “Come here.”

“They told me I need to stay five feet away,” he states. “for my own safety.”

“Well that sounds a lot like a rule you ignored for the past five years,” you shrug. He just shakes his head in response.

“I can’t,” he states. “Not until I know you aren’t going to hurt me.”

You look at him dumbfounded. He thinks you would hurt him?

“You really think I’m going to hurt you?” you ask him.

“I,” he stutters. “I don’t know.”

“They fixed me,” you explain. “I can talk to everyone now. No more violent outbursts or breakdowns.”

He just shakes his head and puts his hands on his temples.

“If you’re just going to treat me like a feral animal, then leave,” you state, causing him to look up at you. What hurts the most is the fact that he actually does get up and leave.

He doesn’t trust you.

Three days later, Johanna comes to see you. Finnick hasn’t come back since you told him to leave so you’ve been all alone in your room.

“Hey Fiesty,” she mutters as she sits down on your bed. “What are you up to nowadays?”

“Nothing much,” you shrug. “I just got moved from one prison to another.” This answer gets a small laugh out of Johanna.

“Glad to see you’re talking again,” she states. “When are they letting you out?”

“They aren’t,” you respond.

“Oh come on,” she groans. “You’re harmless. Don’t tell me Finnick hasn’t tried convincing Coin to release you.”

“He hasn’t,” you reply, shaking your head. “He doesn’t trust me. He thinks I’m going to hurt him like how Peeta hurt Katniss.”

“Ugh. Men are so stupid,” Johanna groans. “I’ll talk some sense into him when he visits me this afternoon.”

“He visits you?” you ask. “Why doesn’t he visit me?”

“Because he’s stupid,” Johanna snorts. “Don’t worry. I’ll go fix your relationship.”

“It’s not a relationship!” you exclaim as she leaves your room.

“Shut up Fiesty!” she yells as she finally exits.

“Hey idiot,” Johanna states as Finnick enters her room. He looks like he didn’t sleep again.

“What did I do this time?” he groans.

“You’ve been avoiding Fiesty,” she replies. “She’s locked up in a room all by herself and I’m the only one who has visited her in days.”

“I can’t see her,” he responds, fiddling with the rope in his hands. “It isn’t safe.”

“Stop being an idiot,” Johanna states, causing Finnick to look up at her. “I don’t know exactly what her treatment entailed but it definitely wasn’t the same as mine or Peeta’s. She never screamed. She didn’t have a single cut or bruise on her body when they rescued her. They even polished the bite mark off her wrist. If they had done anything to her, I think someone would have noticed by now.”

“You said before that her room was near Peeta’s,” Finnick comments. “Did he see or hear anything?”

“Well I’m not allowed to see him so I haven’t been able to ask,” Johanna shrugs. “One of the soldiers, the one who is supposedly Katniss’ cousin, told me that Fiesty made a comment about Peeta being dangerous when she was brought in but he didn’t think much about it till he attacked Katniss. If she was also dangerous, I don’t think she would have tried to warn anyone.”

“I don’t know…” Finnick sighs.

“Look,” Johanna states firmly. “We will go visit her together, first thing tomorrow, and I will show you that she’s not dangerous.“

“Fine,” Finnick relents.

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[sincere1ystar]

Flower Crowns

finnick odair x fem! reader

Making flower crowns with Finnick

author’s note: sorry this is so short, I’ve been in a creative slump lately 😭

Finnick is confused on how he ended up here with you, but he doesn’t question it. It seems as if one moment the two of you are sitting in the dull insides of district 13 and the next you’re dragging him out to the bright fields of flowers.

As you attempt (and miserably fail) to make a flower crown, Finnick has no problem as his practice with tying knots helps him. As his victorious laughter fills the air, you can’t help but feel somewhat defeated.

“Here sweetheart let me help you”, Finnick taunts as he grabs the array of flowers from your hands and easily arranges them into a flower crown.

“How did you”-, you start before Finnick cuts you off.

He laughs as he puts a finger to your lips and says, “Magic”.

“Magic? Is magic how those vines managed to wrap around you?”, you laugh in response to his words.

He hadn’t even noticed the vines of ivy wrapping around his legs since his eyes were drawn to you. They were drawn to the way your eyebrows knit as you attempted to put all your focus on making a flower crown.

“You look cute when you’re all focused like that”, he mumbles as he attempts to get rid of the tangled mess of vines around his legs. You can’t help but notice how his eyes never straying the sight of your face.

“Is there something on my face?”, you ask cautiously as your eyes study his. And before you can excuse yourself to go check in the mirror he places a flower behind your ear.

“It’s a poppy”, he says simply before chuckling, “Or a Papaver rhoea if you want to play flower trivia”.

You can’t help but smile at that. The red poppy matching the small hints of red in your outfit that you didn’t think he noticed.

“You should’ve let me put a poppy in your hair instead”, you answered as you admired the flower in your hair through the reflection of the lake.

“And why’s that dove?”, he murmured

Your heart flutters a bit, but you brush his words off with, “Cause it would suit you more”.

He shakes his head laughing in disbelief. “Now you’re just messing with me, aren’t you?”

Before you can respond he hands you a bouquet of poppies to match the one in your hair. It takes you by surprise but you can’t help but smiles as he admires you.

“It’s pretty isn’t it? ”, he says admiringly, “Made it myself but I don’t think it does you justice. My girl’s prettier than any flower”.

[everdeensworld]

can i get finnick x pregnant! rrader fluff 🥺 weather it’s their first kid or not is up to you i just think its so cute to imagine him doting on ur every move 😭😭

a/n; i decided to do head cannons because i couldn’t for the life of me come up with a plot

i think finnick is a girl dad and a boy dad, he’s both, he’d be happy to play football, trucks and stereotypical boy things, and a moment later dress up in an fairy costume and paint his nails and lift his pinky for a tea party.

for your first pregnancy i think he’d buy baby a shit ton of books like ‘what to expect when you’re expecting’

then he’d pull up with like eleven types of fruits and claim they help “strengthen the babies fingernails” or some other old wives tale.

he would 100% talk to your stomach even before your baby can recognise sounds, i don’t think he’d sing to the baby, not while you were awake anyway.

“hello little one, this is your daddy speaking, your ma is really mad at me right now, do you think you can convince her to forgive me please.”

and well, how could you not forgive him, he’s looking up at you with his beautiful eyes.

i definitely do think there’d be a few times that you and him get into arguments, because let’s face it, nobody is perfect, and pregnancy can be a stressful time.

both of you would absolutely grovel, and feel so guilty depending on who started it, and would make up pretty quickly with a tough conversation on what upset the other person because communication is key!

i like to believe that he’d tell his friends in the goofiest way possible, by making one of them (probably johanna) get a literal bun out of the oven and she’d be like wtf is this doing in here and it would take them a little while

katniss would be the first to get it.

she’d gasp, and everyone looks at her as if she’s insane and she wouldn’t tell them at first until she does and then it clicks, a bun, in the oven.

one day you’d both be chilling watching the television, maybe you’re sitting with your feet on his lap when you sit up and gasp, at first he’s worried, checking for any sings of pain or danger but your face lights up.

“the baby is kicking!” you grin at him, and he’s immediately filling up. “can i feel..?”

why do i lowkey feel like he’d buy matching outfits for you all for when the baby is born.

coming up to your due date any noise that sounds like discomfort or pain he’s at his feet, have you ever played sims and seen the pre-parental panic emote, i imagine him like that 😭

he definitely repacks the bag all the time in the days leading up to your due date, and keeps adding more things to the point you have to tell him;

“finnick we do not need that much stuff!”

for most women, their first baby isn’t usually early, so you keep reminding him that your baby will probably be late but he can’t help but worry.

i definitely think the words “you’ll be such a great dad.” is told to him a lot by the people around him, cause let’s face it, he definitely would be, but every time it brings tears to his eyes.

he’d be amazing during labour, a total star, i think he’d be in the birthing pool with you, forcing you to squeeze his hand, and feeding you your favourite snack.

once the baby is born he’s shedding tears, as are you, rubbing your forehead and saying words of encouragement.

“you did so good baby, so good, our baby is perfect.”

all in all, finnick is the dream man, and would have been such an amazing father.