#but for annie and finnick and katniss and peeta and the rest of the people from district 13 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pinkcherryblossom18 · 1 year

Note

Hi love! 💞 bc I'm on my hunger games renaissance era. Would you mind doing a finnick×reader where they are at the quarter quell and are all over each other like full on pda ignoring the fact that they are at the arena and that the capitol is watching because they are so in love they just live in a bubble and the others are so annoyed by how cute they are and yeah hahaha. I just love my man finnick he deserved better.

Thanks babe and have a good day 🤍🤍

Thank you for requesting honey!!!

Summary: When the Hunger Games started, it was clear who Snow wanted to win and in the end, it would be between you and Finnick. But In your bubble, nothing exists but the both of you.

TW: Mention of the Hunger Games, reference to suicide, kissing

The knowledge of death hangs on you like a personal reaper. Constantly looming and always calling to you and Finnick in a horrible and constant wave. The Reaping had been your sentence but with the deal with District 13, there’s a chance you and Finnick will make it out alive. Though that seems like the priority and plan that Snow had in the first place.

Water surrounds you both in tons, always near and never too far away. It was an advantage set just for you both and the rest knew it. It was unfair but it was a good plan, neither of you could make it long without the other. Puppets would be a word of the past and that was what Snow was planning, to make a broken doll out of either of you.

It’s dark in the arena and while Peeta and Katniss are close, you and Finnick could only be described as laying on top of each other. Your legs are tangled together but the way Finnick had you two laying, if either of your allies decided to attack, he could easily get to his trident and protect you. But neither of you have to worry about that at the moment or Finnick doesn’t, with his hand stroking through your hair and his eyes studying your face.

You're sure the people of the Capitol are stunned, now knowing of your relationship with each other. Snow would try and hurt the people that you love, readying either of you to watch as your friends get killed but he wouldn’t be able to get ahold of them at the moment. That was one thing that you wouldn’t let go of until they agreed, your friends—your family had to be safe for this deal to happen.

The hand carding through your hair keeps going but now a hand comes to your face, Finnick’s thumb rubbing over your cheek with eyes filled with nothing but love. “What are you thinking about, sweetheart?” He asks, laying down fully beside you, letting you roll over and place your head on his chest.

Your fingers start tapping on his chest and then slow down to trace his skin through the wet suit that both of you are wearing. “Mags, Annie, and the rest of them,” you say softly and you hope that at this angle, the Capitol has to strain their ears to listen to you. It wouldn’t be the least they could do and in your own way, it would be an almost type of payback from them making you loud enough to hear across the Districts since you’ve won.

The fingers in your hair start scratching lightly and you fall into them, eyes closing at the feeling and you smile at the small laugh that emits from Finnick as he watches you. “They’re fine,” he tells you and you nod.

Pulling away from his fingers, you prop yourself up on his chest. “I’m also thinking about us, about what’s going to happen. Finnick, what if it's down to us?” The question is almost just for the Capitol but, in a way, it’s not. You all still have to take out the Careers and Katniss doesn’t know about the plan. If anything, if you all did end up taking the Careers down then Katniss could remember that you two were a part of them technically and decide to end the alliance right then and there.

A solemn expression crossed his face and Finnick looked at you with knowing eyes. “You know what will happen,” he says and you clench your jaw. Before the deal, before you two knew you were going to make it out, Finnick had told you that if it came down to the both of you, he would make sure you made it no matter what.

You shake your head. “Finnick, no,” you say sternly but even you can hear the small amounts of pleading behind the words.

The look of determination is behind his eyes, it’s the same one that he had when he told you the answer to your question on the train. “I will if I have to.” He scoots a bit, enough for you two to be close enough for him to lean down and touch your forehead with his and when he does, your eyes close. “If it means you’ll live then I will alright?” He says and you don’t think you can open your eyes but the remainder of the cold and unforgivable ways of the Hunger Games, even when rigged, reminds you that this may be the only time you have left with him.

Opening your eyes, you look into his sea-green ones. “Yeah,” you tell him and Finnick leans down, capturing your lips with his.

It’s always been easy to get lost in Finnick. With his hand-crafted and Capitol-made charm that made everyone drawn to him and simply the way he looked was the reason why after so many years, he’s still Snow’s number one attraction. But with his eyes and the way that he held you up when you firmly believed that you weren’t going to make it through your Games was what drew you to him. It was the way that when you came back that he hugged you as fiercely as he could and stayed with you throughout those few extra days in the Capitol when you wanted to go home, holding you as you cried from the memories of what you had to do to survive.

It was when he first kissed you, when he gently grabbed the side of your face and pulled you in that you knew you were a goner. That magnetic pull had kept you there like he was north and you were south.

Now, on the beach after escaping the fog and the monkeys safely and acquiring Johanna, Beetee, and Wiress with the sun coming down and in your element that was made for the both of you in this arena, Finnick’s lips seemed to stay glued to yours. Maybe it was the way the waves reminded both of you of home, of the house you stayed in at Victor’s Village, and the sound of the waves that would rock you two to sleep. Maybe it was the way that, even now, after one small kiss you can’t help but want more and Finnick was always willing to comply with that.

You can hear the disgusted sounds that Johanna is making whenever she looks over at you two and you're sure that the others are as well but you can’t find yourself to care at the moment. Because in this little bubble that you two had made, them, the Hunger Games, and President Snow don’t exist.

In this little bubble, you two are safe for once.

#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader

574 notes · View notes

lost-in-beacon-hills · 8 months

Text

We all know that Katniss lost the only thing she wanted to keep during the war. Her only goal has always been to care for Prim. But she loses her.

I think the way the series ends guts me so much is because every single victor loses what they started for.

Specifically district twelve victors.

Katniss loses Prim the sister she volunteers for. Strictly speaking this is the catalyst of the story. If she hadn't volunteered none of the rest would have happened. And yet in the end it didn't matter. Whether she won or lost she still couldn't save Prim. Every bit of her trauma feels in vain because she lost the one goal she had. But we as readers know that it was horrible sacrifice that was well worth it. But to Katniss had she known it would end that way I'm not sure she would view it as a fair exchange.

Peeta loses himself. It's an odd thing to say he lost but he did. Snow broke him so fully that he can't tell reality from fabricated memory. He tells Katniss that he doesn't want the games to change him. And yet he does. It's painful. But in the grand scheme of it all a missing leg and a darker personality is the price he pays for Panem's liberation.

Haymitch lost so much. His girlfriend, his mother and his brother. This hurts so much because he did make it back safely. He won and was expecting to go back able to give them food and shelter. He finally pulled them out of the seam. Killing 41 other kids may have messed with him but it's a small price for your family's ensured success. Only once he wins the capitol punishes him for winning. And he loses what he did it for. He has nothing left. Every person he cared for ended up dead. Even his fellow victors. He lost so many people that at the end of the war not even Snow and Coin dying evens the scales.

Lucy Gray Baird wanted to sing with her covey. She wanted a happy life and yet she disappears. Leaving behind a madman that kills everyone and boxes in district twelve. Fencing in the people taking the meadows and Forrest away. No one gets to experience the happy places of twelve safely without punishment of death.

Of course these aren't the only people in the series that make huge sacrifices for the sake of winning the war. Finnick dies, Annie raises a baby without a husband, Mags dies, Johanna loses her family. A lot of the victors die before the war ends.

The hard pill to swallow is justifying the deaths it takes to win the war. It will gut the reader to see everyone fail on a personal level just to win for the future generation.

#hunger games #katniss everdeen #peeta mallark #haymitch abernathy #johanna mason #finnick odair #annie cresta #mags flanagan #lucy gray baird #gloss #cashmere #beetee #wiress #ballad of songbirds and snakes #enobaria #brutus

207 notes · View notes

morganwrites12672 · 2 years

Text

Finnick Odair x Reader

Finnick starts asking for her. Y/N.

"Y/N, Peeta, Enorbia, Annie, Johanna, they didn't make it out. We don't know what happened to them," Plutarch informs.

Finnick leaves for his room. She's gone. His love. Losing her isn't what hurts, not knowing where she is. That's what hurts

She could be being tortured by the capitol. She could be dead. He hated it, but he wished she was the later.

"I'm sorry," he says to her. Hd knows she can't hear him, but he has to try.

"I don't know anything," you yell as the white cell fills with water. That was a lie.

You gasp for air as the water comes in waves, quickly reaching the ceiling, and draining.

"Y/N," you hear Johanna yell.

"Johanna, what's with this fucking water," you reply.

Her reply was cut off as thousands of volts of electricity shot through their bodies.

It was just them, there. Being electeocuted.

The first wave of electricity stops. You writhe on the floor, still shaking and gasping for breath.

You can hear Johanna panting, before you manage to stay anything more screams echo throughout the cells. Yours and hers.

The electric shocks are back.

This continues for hours. By time they finish, neither one of you can stay conscious.

All Finnick can hold is that Y/N, his Y/N is still safe.

He cries himself to sleep that night, And many others.

He never does get used to the feeling of an empty bed.

One day, there is a other capitol announcement.

Peeta and Y/N sit on some chairs as they speak.

"Hello Katniss. People are dying. If you wish to save lives, you will help us a cease fire," Peeta explains.

That's not what hurts Finnick. Y/N is.

"Hey, Finny. Why haven't you come yet? Are you to busy with one of your new lovers? If you care you will end the war. Please, Finnick," Y/N says.

Finnick is drug back from all T.V.'s.

He starts crying the second he is alone. She thinks he left her.

He did.

Within a few weeks, they are back.

The screaming and chaos is, well chaotic.

"She's bleeding out,"

"Get me Finnick,"

"Knock her out,"

Finnick rushes down the hall and stops. He sees you.

Your radiant smile is non existent. It's replaced by a fake, horrible one.

You are bruised, have many cuts, partially bandaged as they hook you up to an IV.

Finnick runs and hugs you careful not to upset any injuries.

"Finny," you sigh tears in your eyes.

"Yn, I'm so sorry, I love you. Never leave me again," he softly kisses her. After 6 long weeks . He can kiss her. He can have her. Hold her. Love her.

"You didn't have a choose finnick," you reply resting your forehead on his, "I love you, to,"

#finnick odair #finnick x reader #finnick smut #the hunger games #thg #katniss x finnick #finnick x you #finnick x y/n #finnick odair x reader

562 notes · View notes

avoxrising · 10 months

Text

Isla - a Finnick Odair Imagine

(Part 2)

That day was the happiest and worst day of Finnick’s life. At 9:38am you gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, Isla, making you and Finnick parents. He was overjoyed to become a dad. Despite his job in the capital and having to mentor every year, he was super determined to be the best dad possible.

You and Isla were fast asleep that evening when the quarter quell announcement was broadcast. Finnick debated waking you up but decided against it. You needed your rest. Thus, he sat down on the sofa and waited to hear about what he would have to mentor this year.

“The tributes will be reaped from the existing pool of victors.”

As if on que Isla woke up crying. Finnick couldn’t even comprehend what this news meant. There were other male victors in District 4 so he may not even be reaped. Maybe they’ll volunteer for him because he’s a dad now.

He finds momentary peace in the fact that you’re not a victor. You had been spared from the reaping but not from Snow’s grasp entirely. Any wrong move from Finnick and Snow wouldn’t hesitate to hurt you.

Finnick rushes into the bedroom to calm down the still crying Isla. You’re trying to calm her yourself but you’re exhausted from giving birth. The second she’s in Finnick’s arms, she stops crying.

“I think you’re her favorite,” you chuckle as you watch your soon to be husband hold your newborn. You can’t help but notice, however, that he seems upset.

“Did I miss the announcement?” you yawn, stretching your arms but not moving from underneath the covers. You see tears spring into Finnick’s eyes.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he whispers. “Can we just be happy for today?”

He climbs into bed with you, still holding Isla, as you drift off to sleep.

When Finnick finally tells you the news, your heart shatters into a million pieces. Although your life was nowhere near perfect, Finnick and you were finally settling in to the happy family life you had both dreamed of. He assures you he probably won’t get picked but you can’t help but have a bad feeling in your gut.

A month later, you stand in the crowd holding Isla as you watch your fiancés name get reaped for the games. The tears don’t stop falling as nobody volunteers for him. He wears his capital smile but you know it’s all a facade. The two of you may never get the happy family life after all.

Annie, one of the female victors and your best friend, has to pull you back to victors village after the reaping. They wouldn’t even let you say goodbye to him or Mags. Annie is just as devastated and stays with you and Isla the rest of the day.

The games pass in a blur for Finnick. He won’t let himself think about you or Isla. His only chance of making it out of the arena is to keep Katniss alive, and he can’t afford to think about anything else at this moment.

His tears have long since turned into fury as he promises to make Snow pay for what he’s done. He didn’t hesitate at all when Haymitch approached him about the rebellion, only asking for your safety in return.

Katniss blows a hole in the arena and Finnick passes out, hoping to see you when he wakes up.

When he does come to, he’s still on the hovercraft next to a sedated Beetee and Katniss. Where is everyone else? He makes his way to the cockpit where Haymitch and Plutarch are talking.

“Where is everyone?” Finnick worriedly asks as he doesn’t see any of the other tributes with the pair of men. Haymitch looks at him with sad eyes.

“The capital got Peeta and Johanna before we could get them out,” Haymitch sighs.

“Y/N and Isla?” Finnick asks.

“We haven’t been able to contact them,” Haymitch shakes his head. “Communication is down but I’m hoping they’re both already in District 13. One of our hovercraft picked up people from District 4 but they didn’t confirm who.”

When the hovercraft lands, Finnick rushes into the docking bay of District 13, frantically shrugging off the doctors trying to make sure he’s unharmed.

“Where is she?” he frantically asks. He finally catches sight of a red headed girl holding an infant and his heart sinks.

“Annie?” he frantically asks. “Where is she?”

“I’m so sorry,” Annie sniffles. “I was only able to get Isla out. The peacekeepers stormed victors village and took her.”

Finnick sobs and holds his daughter, fearing the worst for his love.

Ok super short imagine but I’m down to write a part 2 if y’all are interested!

#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #hunger games #hunger games fic #finnick x oc #finnick imagine #finnick x reader #the hunger games #hunger games imagine #hunger games angst

146 notes · View notes

ilguna · 2 years

Note

I was wondering if you would mind writing a spin the bottle with Peeta Mellark and 89? thank you!

☼ maroon (Peeta Mellark) ☼

warnings; swearing, murder, death mention, gore!

wc; 3k

prompt; 89. Vampire/Human AU

–

When Annie had initially suggested going out to a cabin during your four day weekend, it was a joke. She was making a jab at Finnick, because she knew that he wouldn’t be able to stand being cold and miserable. God forbid he be uncomfortable for more than ten minutes at a time, muchless four whole days with nine other people.

In your friend group, there were about three people who thought the idea was genius, all for seperate reasons. Peeta had sat up at the idea because he thought that it would be a perfect opportunity to hang out together. It’s usually a pain in the ass to organize this many people to be in the same place at the same time. The group gets split in some way, and you always go out missing a few people because they’re busy.

Someone could be working, or it’s finally their day off and they just want to relax at home. Maybe they’re out of state, they have homework to do, they have to study for exams, they have other plans. Whatever it may be, it always keeps you from being full capacity.

Cashmere had this grin on her face when the words left Annie’s mouth, because her mind had gone to a bonfire party. When her brother realized what she was thinking, he was on board too. You guys could buy the alcohol, light a fire, sit around and drink, play some games. The contrast of the fall cold and the warmth of the flame would be perfect this time of the year.

As for Katniss, she admitted that it would be a getaway from Sacred Heart University and the stress that it gives off just from being in the vicinity. It would allow you to disconnect from social media, even if it’s for a few hours. She was most excited about having the forest in your backyard and being able to walk in it.

As for everyone else, it was a mix of the above. Blight was ready to stop studying for once and have a memory he wouldn’t trade anything for. Enobaria wanted to drink and start fights with Johanna and Finnick. When it comes to you, though, it’s more unique than either of those things.

The truth of the matter is that you’ll finally get to hang out with Peeta. He’s one of the people in the group that’s always inconveniently busy when you try to plan anything. You’re beginning to think that it’s on purpose, because you go out of your way to plan it around him, but he always ends up canceling at the end of the day.

And it sucks, because you’ve been trying to get Peeta to notice you for two years. It’s a little impossible to get him interested in you when he doesn’t come around. Ever.

To be fair, it is partially your fault. He’s told you guys several times that he’s not a daytime person. You know that he’s not lying, either, if none of you say anything, then he’ll stay up way into the am without complaining. The second that the sun comes out, he’s gone.

You wish you could be up that late, you’d probably get to know him more, since there’s two other people that are crazy enough to be up that late. It’s Johanna and Finnick, they have bad insomnia, it’s why they’re such great friends. However, you signed yourself up for the early morning classes like a moron, so you can’t mess up the schedule that’s taken you years to perfect.

Well, the plan came true when Peeta volunteered to do the research for the rest of you. He found the nearest secluded campground, read through the rules, and booked the reservation. You sat with him that night, watching him write down numbers and splitting it evenly between the ten of you.

Two days later, everyone paid their share and Peeta went out shopping to buy food, firewood, and anything extra you’d need over the weekend. Compared to everyone else, he was by far the most excited to be here.

You were a little afraid that it would be cramped in the cabin, but Peeta gave you this ‘really’ look. As if he wouldn’t think that far ahead, and that’s why he was in charge of the entire plan in the first place. Sometimes you worry about him, because he’s trusted with the important stuff. It’s not like he’s ever failed before, but all it takes is one slip and you’ve paid a few hundred to stay in another state’s cabin that you can’t fly to.

The good news is that Peeta has, once again, successfully booked another trip. There was only one time where you all got lost trying to get here, and that’s because Enobaria was leading in the first car. When Finnick took over, you made it without any other complications.

The cabin’s pretty big, considering how small it looks on the outside. There’s a couple rooms, and they’ve mostly been split evenly so everyone can sleep on a bed or a couch. You and Katniss are going to share the bed, while Cashmere and Enobaria sleep on the pullout in the corner to maximize space.

You’re sure by the end of the trip, the claimings on the beds are going to be fucked up and it’s not going to matter. The couples are intending to stick together, like Finnick and Annie. Johanna and Blight have this fling going on, so they’ll be in another room together. Peeta and Gloss said they didn’t care where they slept, so they ended up with the living room couches.

Neither of them complained when they woke up this afternoon, so it’s safe to say that they’re pretty comfortable.

“God, I hate this game.” Finnick groans, throwing his cards onto the table.

“It’s uno, it’s not our fault you’re terrible at it.” Johanna says, crossing her arms, “Go on, drink it.”

Finnick bites the inside of his cheek, wondering if it’s worth the fight. You guys have five decks of uno shuffled together for there to be enough cards for all of you to play at the same time. And because it’s not fun playing it the regular way, the rules are chaotic to ensure that winning isn’t easy, and the game keeps going until there’s nine winners and one loser.

And Finnick’s the loser of this round.

He takes in a breath, shaking his head. He takes the half-filled wine glass of pure vodka and closes his eyes, “I hope I puke on you.” With gritted teeth, he starts to suck down the pure alcohol.

Annie laughs, reaching across the table to gather the cards to make them neat, you start to shuffle at the same time Peeta does. It’s going to take a couple of minutes to get the new game all straightened out. That’s why Cashmere excuses herself to the bathroom while Katniss goes to find a bag of chips to pass around the table in the meantime.

Finnick slams the glass down, gasping for air, and then gagging afterward, “Oh shit.”

“Don’t be a baby.” Johanna rolls her eyes.

He points his finger at her, “Don’t.”

You hold half of the shuffled deck out to Annie, and she passes you a different half to mix with yours. You watch as Gloss leans back, stretching his arms behind his head, “I’m tired of uno.”

“What do you want to do, then?” Katniss asks, placing a chip in her mouth. She sets the bag in front of Peeta, who gives her a gentle smile. You bite your tongue.

“I don’t know, we have the whole woods to ourselves. Can’t we do something out there?” He asks.

“You want to get lost in the woods?” Cashmere asks, coming out of the hallway, “I’d ask if you’re stupid, but mom’s already admitting to dropping you on your head.”

Gloss turns, slamming his fist into her stomach. She groans, doubling over and clutching the area. Enobaria lets out a laugh.

“It’s dark out, I wouldn’t.” Annie murmurs.

“Oh, you know what that’s perfect for?” You ask, a few eyes land on you, “Hide and seek.”

Cashmere scoffs, “Okay, now we’ll really have to send out a rescue team.”

“That’s not a bad idea, actually.” Finnick says, “I’m down.”

Gloss sits up, “So am I.”

“You both are going to piss your pants.” Johanna smirks, “I wanna watch.”

“Ew.” Enobaria’s at the other end of the table. In response, Johanna winds up her middle finger, wiggling her eyebrows. Enobaria’s amused.

“Well, if (Y/n) thinks it’s safe enough…” Peeta trails off, making a face, “Then I suppose I’ll go too.”

“You guys are crazy.” Annie shakes her head.

“We could always light the bonfire and sit out there just in case they scream for help.” Blight says.

That has them all sold on the idea. The uno cards are promptly cleaned and stuffed back into their respective boxes. Gloss gets the bonfire going for them, while Blight brings out the coolers of beer and a speaker so that they can play music in the meantime.

You bounce on your toes in the grass, “Oh, this is going to be so good.”

“Who’s going to be it first?” Johanna has her arms crossed over her chest. You don’t think she stands any other way.

“I will.” Peeta volunteers, “The last one found will be it, so you guys better hope you’re last.”

Gloss’ face twists, “I think you have that backwards.”

“Nope.” Peeta’s smile is a little eerie, but you let out a laugh.

“Well, I’ve always been the best hider.” You flip your hair, “You guys are going down.”

“Bet.” Finnick says.

Peeta turns his back to the woods, placing his hands over his eyes while he counts up to sixty. Immediately, the rest of you scramble into the woods, trying to find the best hiding spot. The sound of your feet trampling over the snapping branches are all you can hear, but as soon as you part ways, your heart is pounding in your ears.

You run until you can’t see the bonfire in the trees, crouching and taking deep breaths to calm down. It’s less than a minute later do you feel the urge to pee, realizing that you should’ve gone before you started. You try to stay in one place, but it makes it worse, so you keep moving.

You’re not entirely sure how Peeta’s going to find all four of you out here. He didn’t set any boundaries or anything, so you’re wondering if he’s going to go back to the fire and wait there until you guys realize that he’s not actually searching. If any of you do end up lost, you have your phone’s on you, Katniss made sure to check.

Speaking of her, you wouldn’t be surprised if they were dating. They actually hang out together, just the two of them, more often than you, Finnick and Annie do. And the three of you were born with your hips attached to each other. You’re from the same hometown and everything, they’re the ones that convinced you to go to Sacred Heart in the first place.

You should’ve made your move on him when you had the chance. Peeta needed a partner to ride with up here, and you almost agreed to go with him, but got nervous over the idea of talking to him the entire drive. You guys are a few hours away from Capitol City. If you ride here with him, then you’re obligated to ride back with him. It’d be awkward if he rejected you.

He ended up with Blight, though. Finnick, Annie and Johanna claimed you in their car so that you could jam out to good music without being smothered by everyone else. Cashmere, Gloss and Enobaria have their own relaxed vibe that Katniss decided was good enough for her.

She’s so quiet at times, you’re not entirely sure if Peeta would be into her. She also talks about their mutual friend a lot—you think his name is Gale—and at one point, you genuinely thought that Katniss and Gale were a thing. She always refers to him as a friend when she talks about him, so it shut down your hopes that she’s taken.

At the rate you’re going, you think you’re going to have to give up the idea of you being with Peeta, as much as it sucks.

A branch snaps, you freeze in the crunching leaves, slowly lowering into a crouch. You hold yourself upright with a nearby tree, closing your eyes to listen closely. The shuffling continues in the other direction, and you wait there for a few moments longer before moving on.

If that was Peeta, then he’s got terrible hearing because there’s no way he didn’t hear you stomping through. You doubt that it was one of the other hiders because they would’ve gone rigid as well, right? Regardless, you’re careful to shuffle your feet out here.

It’s darker than you thought it was going to be. You thought that there’d be some moonlight to illuminate the woods, but the trees are so thick and close together that it can’t get through. Hide and seek is scary enough as it is, and when you add darkness and the woods into it, it creates a whole new level of terrifying.

It makes you wonder if Peeta’s going to be able to find anyone. You know for sure that you’d call it by now. You wouldn’t be able to find one person, and he has to find four. You suppose that increases his chances a little.

As you’re dragging your feet through the leaves, your foot gets caught around something hidden in them. You try to catch yourself, but your other foot gets caught on the same root. Your face twists, prepared for your knees to hit the root, so you try to turn your body to land on your butt instead.

Whatever it is that you land on, it’s soft. You scramble to get off of it, taking some of the leaves with you when you do. You pat your pockets, looking for your phone so that you can turn on the flashlight. Once the light is on, you can feel your heart drop into your stomach.

“Oh my god.” You breathe, clutching it against your chest, “Finnick?”

You reach forward, shaking, as you brush more of the leaves off of his body, afraid to confirm what you’re thinking. He’s pale white, as if he saw a ghost. His eyes are frozen open, mouth parted slightly. The leaves are stuck in his bronze hair, which is messy on his forehead. When you shake him, it’s like he’s glued into the ground.

He looks dead.

“Finnick?” You croak.

This has to be a joke, they have to be pulling a prank. If he’s dead then that means…

You’re overthinking it. Finnick told you about his weird talents several times. How he can hold his breath and he doesn’t blink as often as you’re supposed to. You use this information to get to your knees to lean over him. He told you that Annie always ruins his pranks by blowing on his eyes, because he can’t keep them open when they’re dry.

You take in a deep breath, and when you blow it into his face, his expression doesn’t change.

A startled scream leaves your mouth, you slap your hand over it to silence it. You’ve got to get out of here. What if the murderer is in here with you? With Johanna and Gloss and Peeta? What if they’re all dead and you’re the only one left alive? What if the murderer’s watching you right now?

You trip getting back to your feet, swiping your phone as you take off running back toward the bonfire. You want to scream a warning to them, let them know that you’re not alone out here, that it’s the opposite. You’re all going to end up dead like Finnick if you don’t get in a car and leave.

As you get closer to the edge, you can see the glow of the bonfire, hear the laughter of your friends around it, the music they’re playing. You hope that the rest of them are there, that Finnick was the only one taken.

You open your mouth, getting ready to scream your warning, when a figure comes out from behind a tree to your right at the last second. You slam into them, and despite the fact that the force should knock the both of you over, their hands lock around your arms, keeping you in place.

Voice frozen in horror, you look up to see who it is. A flash of relief goes through your body, but it’s a flash for a reason. Peeta’s mouth is smeared with blood, there’s a few drops on his white shirt. The corners of his lips turn upward in a smile, and they keep spreading until he can show off his sharp teeth.

“I found you.” His voice is smooth, not at all panicked.

It’s the opposite for you. You can’t move, he’s got an iron grip around your upper arms. You wouldn’t be able to escape, even if your body willed it. You can only stand and stare, hoping that you’re not next.

“Annie told me a little fact about you.” He lets go of your arm to tilt your head upward, forcing you to look into his eyes, “That you’re in love with me?”

You can feel the tears well into your eyes.

“It’s okay.” Peeta’s voice is gentle as he brushes your cheek with the back of his finger, “That’s why I saved you for last, so you can be it too.” He smiles, “And then we’ll be together forever.”

He tilts your head to the side, opening up your neck. You can feel the pressure build in your chest, the urge to scream. You don’t know what the fuck is happening. This has got to be a big prank against you. It has to be.

“This’ll only be a pinch.” He tells you, lips on your neck.

Peeta’s razor sharp teeth sink into your skin, sending a blinding pain through your body.

this was part of my 2k celebration!

#ilguna #peeta mellark #peeta mellark imagine #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark fanfic #peeta mellark oneshot #thg #the hunger games #requested #angst #2k celebration #anon #ask

149 notes · View notes

kahlanmars · 10 months

Text

BAD FEELING part. 23

MASTERLIST

taglist: @crimsonincursive

Hiii. I was on holiday but now I'm baaack! I couldn't, ok? I just couldn't. My precious babyboy.

23. Playing God

Turns out it’s not how you die simply because Finnick saves you once again. You lost count of how many times he saved your sorry ass, but you think you’ll owe him for the rest of your life. You’ll give a gigantic gift to Annie when the baby is born.

Your group is hiding in a small inlet now, and you can’t help but to ask a question everyone has.

«What the fuck were those?»

«Mutts.» Boggs answers. You think he knew, maybe not exactly about these but he was aware of the chance. «Snow knows the tunnels are our best possibility.»

If this is your best shot you are already dead.

Mutt technology scares you so much. Modified animals created by the Capitol, controlled by them too.

«So you are implying we have to deal with the lizards.» Perla assumes. You don’t agree on the “Lizard” term. You know lizards, they are small and nice and green. These things are white, too human shaped for your taste and they can talk. They say only “Katniss”, but they can talk.

Katniss who is too silent. Katniss who is too tense. You two are not close, but she’s your non boyfriend adoptive daughter, so you try to keep an eye on her, on Peeta too, and in a way on Finnick, even if he is your age and save you all the time. Your partner has a lot of adoptive children.

«Nobody said it was going to be easy.» Finnick remarks. Cressida always puts the camera on his face every time he talks. It didn’t matter how many times Finnick made pass-pros telling about his traumatic past and how Panem mistook him for a sex symbol, he is forever going to be the Games’ golden boy. Cressida is a practical woman, if he can bring more people to the revolution his face will be the poster face along with Katniss’s. Cressida is also a Capitol woman and some habits don’t die.

«We dealt with mutts and Capitols before, didn’t we?» Lora says, with a high pitch tone who is not at all like the others. You caress her arm in reassurance, because if she has to talk like this she is scared. «We are not doomed. We can try.»

«We can win.» Peeta adds, but it’s Katniss who finally speaks up.

«We have to.»

«Welcome to the 76th Hunger Games.» Finnick declares. «And may the odds be ever in your favor.»

The plan is simple: we see a lizard and we fight. You don’t fight, you are not able to and you never did that. There is no way to fight a shark, and you only fought humans.

«Now, who never used a gun?» Boggs asks you.

You raise your hand until you realise there’s no need for you to do it. You spent too much time with children, you can just tell them. Lora, Perla and a fucking soldier follow your example and you realize that in District Thirteen you can be reaped as a soldier when you are fifteen. Not really different from The Hunger Games. On the other hand this is what war does… but are you not supposed to help the children instead of making them fight for you?

You really hate District Thirteen.

«You will stay behind. The Mockingjay is the priority.»

Katniss watches him like he grew a second head. «No, I’m not. I can be dead at the end of all this. The priority is killing President Snow. We reach for the entrance and we go. This is our mission.»

You are not scared, you are absolutely terrified. You follow the soldiers waiting for the lizards to strike any minute now, not sure if they follow the scent of the noise.

For a while the situation is the same for everyone.

You wait, and you wait in silence.

Until you hear a screech.

You begin to run.

You run until your lungs are on fire and you spot a stair that if you are lucky enough will bring you out of this mess, and if you are not will bring you out of this misery.

«STAAAIRS!» You scream, hoping the lizards don’t know your language, because Finnick, some soldiers and Peeta are behind you.

You climb as fast as you can and you reach the top. Opening a door on the wall is not the simplest thing, and you are wasting precious time. Why are you on the top? Why is not Katniss on the top, or Boggs, or someone who knows what they are doing? You are wasting time. You are wasting time and now that means someone will be killed because of you, it’s all your fault, it’s…

Open. You open it.

You crawl out the hole and you help the others with Perla, knowing the lizards are behind them with sharp teeth and claws. The others are on the ground now, shielding you from any possible danger.

The last ones are Caius and Finnick, going in together because the stairs are big enough. You hold the hand of the guard and your friend when you feel that something is wrong, too heavy than before.

«Finnick?» You scream, trembling in terror. You can’t risk Finnick, you can’t risk Finnick, you can’t risk him…

«My leg!» He is clearly in pain, the lizards are biting him in the flesh, greedy for a meal. They are too strong.

He won’t make it, you realise. There’s no way you and Perla can lift him enough to save him, he is going to die there or you will die with him.

The boy who saved you, the man who will have a baby soon, dies. The handsome man who suffered the most. He doesn’t deserve it. All his life has been hell and now that he can have happiness he dies.

Meanwhile, the soldier who left you to die is about to be saved. By you. You get to save him but not Finnick.

He doesn’t deserve it more. He will kill other people because he’s hurt, Caius is dangerous, he was willing to let Marjorie die because he was offended by you.

No.

In a blur, you really don’t know what you are doing, like a foreign force that possesses you, you remove your hand from Caius’s and you push him off the stairs. He shouts, but the lizards surround him immediately and they tear his pieces apart, famished, leaving Finnick alone.

You pull him up, helped by Perla and you close the hole, as fast as you can.

Then you watch him. He watches you, and you can only imagine what he is thinking.

A murderer. A killer. A cold blood killer. The woman who played God. It wasn’t up to you who lived and who died. Is this for Finnick? Or just a convenient revenge? Would you have done the same with another soldier?

But he didn’t deserve to live, he tried to kill you and Marjorie, and Finnick was dying and you didn’t want him to win.

«I can’t walk, I think my leg is broken.» He talks after what you think it’s an infinite amount of time.

It’s Cressida who has the solution. «Come, I know a place.»

The place that Cressida knows is a taylor’s house. The woman, named Tigris, was a famous stylist until Snow decided she wasn’t pretty enough to work for him and now she collaborates with the rebels. To be fair, she is hideous. She looks like a cat, her skin is yellow with black stripes and her nose is almost feline. She is too skinny, maybe because food is rationed in the Capitol since the war started.

She is nice, though. She offers a meal and she let you stay in her basement until you’ll do part B of the plan, which means no lizards and no snakes.

And blankets, you love blankets.

You are sitting on the couch trying to bandage Finnick’s leg when he speaks up. He can’t walk, Gale carried him on his shoulder.

«Thank you.» He talks to you, when Gale rushes to Katniss.

«No problem, I’m no Prim but I think it’s broken. You’ll stay here, you can’t fight with a broken leg.» It’s not your place to tell, or your orders to give, especially to him. Still, you are pretty good at giving orders.

«I didn’t mean… for this.»

You close your eyes, trying not to break your calm. If you don’t think about it and you go on you will remain collected. Now it’s really not a good time for a panic attack.

«You are my friend and I have to protect you.» You repeat like a mantra. «And I wasn’t going to leave Annie alone.»

«You know, apart from the age difference and the mentor - tribute thing, I get why you two are together. You are both protectors.»

You stay silent for so long because if you say something you are going to burst into tears, but one rolls down to your face, out of your control, and soon you begin to cry against his shoulder.

«I’m so sorry, I’m so, so sorry…» You murmur.

«Don’t, you did it to save me.» He hugs you, rubbing your back.

«I’m not like Haymitch, I’m not a good person, I’m a murderer.» You babble looking at him like you are desperate.

«And you think I’m not? I am. Haymitch is. Katniss is. We are all tributes, Daisy. We are all killers.»

«That is not the same and you know it.» You look at him.

«Says who?» He deadpans. «It’s like in the Games.»

He caresses you and he strokes your hair until you fall asleep against him. It’s Katniss who awakes you, rather gently for her. «Ehi, there’s Haymitch on the computer, so… I thought maybe you want to say hi.»

You have to wait for your turn, because he is speaking first with her and then with Boggs for strategic stuff, but then they let you speak to him for five minutes. Good, you can calm yourself down a little.

«Partner.» You say hi, rubbing your eyes. It’s the middle of the night and you cried yourself to sleep.

«Sweetheart. How are you doing?» He looks at you, you can tell he is worried but you are not going to say anything. Maybe they are recording.

«Bad, I miss you. But I’m alive.» And Caius is not. You can’t cope with that, so your brain acts like you didn’t do what you’ve done.

If you linger to the knowledge everything becomes black. The first time you were protecting Effie and him and you were trying not to be murdered by President Snow; the second time you were in the Hunger Games, fighting for your life. This time you have no excuses. You decided who had to live and who had to die.

Haymitch can’t know that. He will think you are not perfect, he will know you are evil, he will leave you, he doesn’t even love you.

No, that is wrong. That is even worse! You have to tell him as soon as you get back in the district. That is the right thing to do.

But you will lose him.

But… even the thought of losing him is selfish. Caius can’t lose anyone, because Caius is dead. Because of you.

Then again, Caius was a bad person who almost killed you and an innocent woman in the process.

«Stay alive, Gorgeous. I miss you too.» He seems tired. You don’t know how the tremors are these days, but his hands shake and he has black shadows under his eyes.

«These confessions.» You tease him.

«What can I say? You made me soft.» With those words the butterflies in your stomach are dancing to a very loud song. You made him soft.

«Didn’t replace me with a cute District 13 girl yet?» No real conversation, no real deal. They are watching you.

«Didn’t have time. Not like you and Finnick.» He deadpans. Boggs is down with gossip? Or Katniss said it to him when he asked about you.

«Oh yes, I was sleeping against him just now.» You retort with a wide grin. «You know my taste in men is “Handsome victors”.»

«Is it now? And I thought that was “Old alcoholics”.» You almost feel bad for the people that will see the video, because his eyes are dark with lust and you purr in every word. It will be embarrassing for them. You look like teenagers in love.

«Old alcoholics who can make you see stars at night?»

He chuckles, but you can tell he is filled with pride. «You’re mine, remember that.»

«No, you are mine. Can’t wait to prove it to you.» You are being ridiculous and you know it, and then again when you’ve seen him on the monitor your heart skipped a bit. You are so proud of your bracelet and proud that everyone knows you wear something of his, not because he owns you, just because… he really knows you. And you are so scared, that’s so you to cope with that.

«And how would you do that, Princess?»

«I might bite your neck.» You have a little kink for his neck. It’s so strong, so rough, and when you kiss it he moans so loud and he always makes sure you scream in pleasure after…

«Just my neck, Sweetheart?»

«Boggs says you have to quit now.» Katniss tells you, and by the blush on her face you get she listened to your little conversation. You say goodbye to your handsome, funny, kind partner and almost burst into laughter when the dark haired girl avoids your gaze. She is so pure.

When you come closer to Perla and Lora, they exchange a look.

«I miss you.» Lora tells her, mocking my accent.

«I miss you more. You are mine.» Perla follows her example. You scoff, clearly annoyed.

«Remember that you are mine.» The younger woman is really keen on your imitation.

«No, you are mine.»

«You have to remember.»

«Remember it, Daisy.»

They look at you like you’ll clap at their performance. You throw a pillow at them. «…Fuck off, you two.»

«And who would help you remember?»

You laugh, and you come back to sleep between them.

«Do you think we will die here?» Perla whispers after a while, maybe half an hour. «I don’t think we are very much loved by Thirteen.»

«No, we can’t die. We need to go on a proper vacation in her district after the war.» You murmur. «I’ve always wanted to visit District Four.»

You smile and turn to see Lora’s reaction, but she is asleep. She looks so peaceful when she is sleeping, so young. You didn’t protect her much today, you should keep an eye on her too. She’s strong, she’s cunning but she’s still a kid. Being nineteen is still being a kid. Just a year out of the normal games.

«I don’t think we’ll arrive to an “After the war”. We don’t get to have an after.» Perla keeps going. She is clearly in a clouded mood tonight.

«Don’t even. We have to try.» You squeeze her arm. You thought like that all through your games, and it has been exhausting. She needs to fight, so she can’t be tired.

«I’m in love.» She whispers so briefly you almost don’t hear it. «For the first time. And I don’t want to lose it.»

You watch her closely. If you joke about it now you lose her. Perla is used to being the strong one, the one who doesn’t care about feelings, and if you can’t imagine her being so open and approachable. She is not like you, who screams you are in love with Haymitch to anyone who’s willing to hear about it. She doesn’t wear her heart on her cheek.

«You won’t. You deserve it.» You stroke her brown hair to pamper her. «Do you want to tell me… who is it?»

She doesn’t answer right away. She closes her eyes, like it’s a great secret. It’s probably a secret.

«I have been part of the rebellion since the start, you know?» You didn’t know. You thought it had been the same as for you, but you let her continue. «I volunteered because of that.»

You actually remember that she volunteered, but you thought it was for a sibling or a friend, not for a cause. «Weren’t you scared?»

«I was frightened. Working for the rebellion with Finnick, I…» For a moment you are terrified she says she is in love with Finnick. Like for real. Every woman who likes men in Panem had a crush on Finnick Odair, the dashing prince from District Four, but a real thing would have been devastating. He is married. His wife is pregnant. «I met a stylist.»

Ok, now you are just puzzled. «A stylist?»

She gulps. A confession. «The stylist. Like… the rebel stylist. The stylist of the rebellion. Katniss’s stylist.»

You cover your mouth with your hand. «Are you in love with Cinna?»

«Don’t hold it against me, Daisy. I don’t know what got into me. I don’t do these things. It’s not the right time.»

«Things like? Living your life? Love?» You raise an eyebrow. «It’s wonderful! What do you live for if you don’t live for love? That’s just perfect.»

«The rebellion comes first.» She reminds you. «For the both of us.»

«Oh, aren’t you just perfect for each other.» You joke. Just a little. She can bear that. «Plus, he is reeeally hot.»

Lora opens an eye, clearly annoyed by your chatting. «Uh?»

«Oh, nothing.» You dismiss it.

«I’ve heard everything and I have just one question.»

«Shoot.» The sky blue eyed girl offers.

«What is it with you and old people?»

You pretend to sleep for most of the night. You don’t want to bother anyone with nightmares, but you also know there’s no way Caius won’t be in them when you’ll close your eyes.

You saved Finnick, and you are proud of yourself for that, but killing Caius has been so easy you are actually scared of yourself.

Yourself, yourself, yourself…

«A group of soldiers will come to take Finnick back to the District.» Boggs explains, looking at the man’s leg. It is actually bad, but it could have been worse. «We’ll stay to continue the mission. All clear?»

«All clear.»

That is a true thing. That is cool. Finnick has to rest and he will be safer this way, unable to fight. Tomorrow you are going to kill President Snow and you can’t expect all of you to come back.

You are one of the weak ones. You are here because Coin is not happy with Haymitch, that’s what you think. She is using you to punish him. And maybe you have created problems too, with Caius and the bunker.

You deserve it, a voice specifies. You unalived someone today, after all. If someone deserves to die it’s not the Mockingjay, or the lover boy, or your fellow tributes.

In the blink of an eye two soldiers come into the bunker, but instead of going for Finnick, they come near you.

You don’t know them. They are in the Thirteen uniform, so they must come from that district, but they are strangers. A blonde man and a dark haired one, face blank and very, very tall. They look scary enough, but you suppose it’s their job.

«Daisy Pinecone, you are under arrest for the murder of a District Thirteen citizen. You have the right to remain silent.» They say, and you can’t help but look at the others, but everybody is in the dark.

They don’t know more than you do.

«I beg your pardon?» You ask.

What is worse is that it’s true, but how can they know it? Did Finnick say something? It’s impossible, you trust him with your life, and he was sleeping with you when Boggs was talking with Haymitch.

«Everything you say can be used against you.» They keep going, but you search Katniss with your eyes. They grab your arms and try to lift you up.

«Daisy, go with them.» Boggs orders you. «We will clarify everything.»

You quickly become terrified. Where are they taking you? If nobody knows, will you come back? They don’t like you. Will you be tortured? People are getting tortured in Thirteen.

You have the bracelet, you suddenly remember. Haymitch knows where you are.

«Call Haymitch! Please, call Haymitch!» You scream to the Mockingjay while they take you away.

You don’t even get to see if she heard you.

37 notes · View notes

wildestdreamcatcher · 1 year

Text

I think it's interesting how every winner of The Hunger Games seems to have their own special characteristic or circumstance to set them apart from the rest of the tributes. Finnick's trait is his looks, Annie's is her mental illnesses, Katniss and Peeta's is their "star-crossed lovers" arc (Katniss is also the "Girl on Fire"). I think that Capitol needs something to get the rest of Panem to remember these tributes, and since they aren't seen as people by Snow and the Capitol; they get reduced to trivial things.

#the hunger games #katniss everdeen #peeta mallark #finnick odair #annie cresta #thg

52 notes · View notes

arthdoesart · 10 months

Text

“What the hell is happening now?!”

Effie held the drunken victor back from hurling a chair towards their only working television. While she was not made an account by the anonymous people that have kidnapped the children, the former escort was still highly upset, like the rest of them were, when all of their voted scores have all been outright denied.

In order to score Tribute zero-zero-one, please make sure to input the serial number first.

Now, you don’t have to manually apply this for District Three is already assigned to unlock the security pass so that everyone can be allowed to vote—

“They’re asking us for a passcode…” Peeta said tiredly, looking at the screen with silent glowering contempt. "It was easier when they would just announce it on television."

"Yeah? Well, I have a feeling they're not exactly making it easy on purpose."

Haymitch spat, backing away from the broadcast of a struggling seventeen-year-old Capitol child, who by any means, did not possess the same level of skill as Careers when it came to using a sundry of knives and spears.

It was pathetic watching the teenager even make an attempt on his part. But what else could the boy do, really?

"...what happens if he doesn't get a score?" Katniss grimly brought up beside Peeta, her knee bouncing in trepidation for the potential consequence if they're unable to rate him on time.

Her sharp, ashen seam-like eyes scanned the countdown needed for all the Districts to give their votes. It ran for 60 seconds at least, but now it's down to 40.

"It won't come to that," Peeta tried to assure her, looping an arm around to pull her close by the shoulder so he could plant a comforting kiss on the side of her forehead. "They all need scores, Katniss. I doubt the people behind this won't give them any—"

"But it's up to us to give them something!"

Chapter 2 of Royale Capitol Games will be posted now on ao3 :)

And as always this series is dedicated to @plvtarch

The Royale Capitol Games (18625 words) by PinkMuseSundays Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes - Suzanne Collins Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Alma Coin/Plutarch Heavensbee, Haymitch Abernathy/Effie Trinket, Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark, Annie Cresta/Finnick Odair (mentioned), Katniss Everdeen & Peeta Mellark, Katniss & Primrose Everdeen (mention), Haymitch Abernathy & Plutarch Heavensbee, Caesar Flickerman & Plutarch Heavensbee, Fulvia Cardew & Plutarch Heavensbee, Alma Coin & Plutarch Heavensbee Characters: Plutarch Heavensbee, Alma Coin, Haymitch Abernathy, Katniss Everdeen, Peeta Mellark, Effie Trinket, Beetee Latier, President Paylor, Johanna Mason, Annie Cresta, Annie Cresta and Finnick Odair's Son, Finnick Odair (mentioned), Enobaria (Hunger Games), Caesar Flickerman, Coriolanus Snow, Coriolanus Snow's Granddaughter, Fulvia Cardew, Gale Hawthorne, Original Characters Additional Tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Thriller, Mystery, Kidnapping, Romance, Drama & Romance, Quarter Quell (Hunger Games), Fourth Quarter Quell, Inspired by Black Mirror (TV), Hunger Games-Typical Death/Violence, 76th Hunger Games, Alternate Universe, Child Death, The Capitol (Hunger Games), Capitol Hunger Games, Suffering!Heavenscoin, Funny!Hayffie, Veteran!Everlark, Canon-Typical Violence, Hunger Games Victors, Victors as a Family (Hunger Games), Plutarch and Haymitch bromatism, Plutarch "I'm so stressed out" Heavensbee, Alma "This is what I fucking deserve" Coin, Caesar "That's how you put on a show" Flickerman Series: Part 4 of The odds came with blood and peppermints Summary: "To remind the Capitol that their nefarious deeds will never be forgotten, twenty-four children are reaped from their families to participate in a Battle Royale. Unlike its predecessor, the tributes are chosen at random despite their age, sex, and societal status." The voice chuckled over the last line, as if disbelieving any of the kids from the Capitol were beyond poorer than the high middle-class citizens. "…of course, tributes who refuse to participate within the rules of the game will have their shock collars activated. Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the first ever Royale Capitol Games, with it also being the Fourth Quarter Quell from the discontinued series of the Hunger Games." The announcer laughs, unaware of the sheer number of Capitol parents that have fainted from the live announcement. They were giddy for a while at having to recite the dreaded line, along with a sickening twist added by the end. "And may the odds ever grant you their favors." Pairings; Heavenscoin with a side of Hayffie & Everlark.

#hunger games #hayffie #everlark #heavenscoin #katniss and peeta #haymitch and effie #inspired by the sadism of black mirror #remember shut up and dance?#the chapter is like that lol

28 notes · View notes

65ths · 5 months

Text

good morning! finnick is quite blunt during the quarter quell— yes, he makes jokes and he laughs, but he also says things like “those canons? music to my ears. i don’t care about any of them” and “if i wanted to kill either of you i would’ve done it by now.” he doesn’t hold back for a second about any of it and he can’t. it’s how he survives, and more importantly it’s how he makes sure that katniss and peeta survive. the quell is a complicated multilayered event for finnick— he’s going back into the games which have haunted him for a decade. to win would be to seal his fate as the golden boy for the rest of his life. he will never know peace. he’s doing it alongside the closest person he has to a mother, mags, and for him to win would be mean for her to die in the games. he’s fighting against people he’s known for ten years, and quite well given that he’s the one who does all the we remember memorial videos. despite his attitude and words, there is care and there is still this attachment. he has to play ruthlessly, because even a moment of hesitance could end badly for him. he can’t afford to get caught up in the relationships and common hatred for the games that he has with the other victors. he won his first games by being quick and calculated, and he’ll only win his second by being the same. anything personal is a weakness and it makes him vulnerable, and finnick knows what happens when you’re vulnerable to the system.

bearing all that, he’s also part of the rebellion which should it end badly or if anything goes wrong will also be his unraveling. it’s a secret he’s hid from annie, the one person he is constantly trying to have some level of honesty with. it’s treason. then, he also has the ultimate task of getting into an alliance with katniss and make sure that she and peeta stay alive— arguably the most next to impossible task. to do so, he needs to convince katniss to not kill him in the middle of the night or leave the group— two things she is constantly thinking about. none of them have the time or luxury to think and unpack the circumstances, they’re in the games and they have to act like it and finnick has to steer every situation they get into— saving peeta’s life, yelling out to johanna when they’re all standing by ready to attack, calming johanna down, counting the bread rolls, holding onto peeta when the cornucopia spins, etc.

#this is a LENGTHY good morning!#held together with bowlines / headcanons #katniss really did spend all of cf being like damn how are we gonna kill these ppl :/#and finnick was screaming and crying trying to be like omfg!!!!!!#listen to me!!!!

8 notes · View notes

clatoera · 9 months

Text

Always Remember We're Burned for Better Chapter 17: What Doesn't Kill Me Makes Me Want You More

Heeeeey guys. I feel like I apologize a lot for delays. Full transparency is that as we enter the final act of this fic we are also entering my application season. Things are going to be irregular until October when my apps are submitted. At the same time I expect thats when I'll be starting the sequel so! Exciting things ahead! Thank you for your patience and understanding and love. I appreciate and love every one of you.

I quite literally went on a mission to revisit every thing Jack Quaid has ever done to get an idea of how I wanted Marvel to sound. I'm posting this 26 minutes before I see oppenheimer the third time.

The title is from Cruel Summer (tswift)

AO3

Masterpost

As always, thank you to my friends. @ohhowwehavefallen who quite literally is the reason for the very last scene. IT was her. Give her credit for it existing. @kentwells for literally letting me bounce EVERY idea off them (I literally the other day said I just want people to be happy and had to be reminded I cause the suffering), and @crookedlyniceperson who keeps me going with the thought of memes.

Thank you as we enter this last segment of chapters, where we end the war and start the rest of their lives.

“Do they ever stop looking at you like you killed their dog?” Johanna is the one who asks, glancing around half heartedly at the dozens of wary stares being sent their way at any given moment.

In perfect, offhanded unison, Cato and Glimmer give a resigned “No.”

They had grown used to it. The distrustful looks, the pitiful side glancing, but frankly there was not as much fear or respect one would think these once great victors would garner.

Then again, they were quite a sight to behold these days.

Johanna, with hair like a peach fuzz and various track marks from IV after IV for that Morphling hit.

Clove, who had flayed more than one man alive on television, with skin like violets and nightlock berries from her neck down, bruises blossoming on every inch of that pale canvas.

Cato and Glimmer, who they had long since deemed as crazy and unstable, but now less of a threat with the return of the carrot they had dangled on the stick before them.

Really, the only one who even resembled his old self was Marvel. And what threat was he, anyway?

Finnick did not grace them with his presence, nor did Annie, as they were playing peacekeepers between Katniss and Peeta across the room after his attempt on her life not all that many weeks ago. After all, someone had to keep Miss girl on fire’s embers glowing. Without the supervision of Finnick, Gale likely would have taken Peeta out by now just for his own opportunity to get ahead in the name of protecting Katniss.

“We kinda did kill their dogs. Well. We killed their kids.” Glimmer reminds her, back to her earlier habits of pushing food around on a tray, slipping hard and fast into her old ways.

She sits directly next to Clove on the opposite side of Cato, across from Johanna. Next to Johanna is Marvel who still cannot look at her for longer than a second, so far as Glimmer knows at least.

It’s Clove, of course, who catches him looking when Glimmer is not.

“We didn’t kill their kids, they weren’t in the games.” Clove rolls her eyes, but stabs her blunt spork into the overly-cooked but under-seasoned green beans. She couldn’t even raise her shoulder parallel to the floor, but they were still unwilling to give her (or Cato, for that matter) a knife. At least someone in this godforsaken place was still scared of her and didn’t see her like a bird with a broken wing. “The twelves mostly finished themselves off every year anyway- for fucks sake would it kill someone to get some salt down here?”

“I would commit a literal war crime for a pizza right now.” Marvel admits, and the tone of his voice sounds like maybe he’s only half joking, that maybe he really would dig a knife into the president of District 13 in exchange for extra pepperoni.

When the eyes around them firmly land on him, and some of the armed guards tense and take a step forward he puts up a single, defeated hand. “I’m joking. I’m not here to take out the rebellion for a stuffed crust.” When the guards step back and the weary looks turn away, he does cock an eyebrow and gives a slight nod of his head. “Extra cheese on the other hand..”

Glimmer gives a quiet giggle, though she does not look up from the swirls she makes with the potatoes before her.

Cato actually laughs, though, in a way he had not in the many months of separation of him and Clove. It was like something in him had come back to life, and it clearly had something to do with the dark haired girl he currently had his arms draped around the shoulders of. “If you’re going to get us shot over pizza we may never have again, at least make it something good. At this point I’d lead this fucking war if it would get me back to a burger.” He gently nudges Clove, who is furiously attempting to stab at whatever they were trying to pass off as a balanced meal. “Come on. What do you miss?”

“What don’t I fucking miss? Our bed. Fabric softener. The use of my arms..” Clove starts to complain, but she looks up and catches the teasing shine in his blue eyes and can’t help but play along. “...half of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, the peanut butter half. And an orange. If we make it out of this, I never want to go a day without real fruit ever again.” She nudges at Glimmer’s knee with her own, before doing the same with her free shoulder. “What about you Glim Glam? What’s your death row choice here?”

How is she supposed to say, oh, nothing, I wasn’t allowed to enjoy food, the thought of eating makes me nauseous? How is she supposed to say that she isn’t quite sure there's anything out there in the world that she’s interested in these days. There’s a memory, though, of a night before Clove became victor officially, of late night snacks in a bed that was not her own but belonged to the man across from Cato. Back when there was still potential and love in her world, that little bit of good that she had had taken from her yet again.

“...those little cake slices, not cupcakes, but the individual slices so you can try the different flavors. They have them at the parties all the time. And maybe fries?” Glimmer smiles to herself at the memory of salt between bed sheets and frosting on the tips of noses. “And there was this pasta, with like…cheese sauce and It was so so good but I can’t remember what it was called but it was just so good I’d kill to have it again–”

“...mac’n’cheese. That’s what it’s called. You like it with the toasty little breadcrumbs on top of it.” Marvel finishes for her, briefly lifting his head and giving ever so slight of a nod. “I remember it from when-”

“Yeah. I do too.” Glimmer agrees, and is the one to break eye contact as she refocuses down at the scraps of borderline dog food they’re being fed.

A heavy, powerful silence falling over the table full of victors, a haze no one quite wants to break. Cato taps his thumb on Clove’s shoulder, and she settles into his side contently. Marvel clears his throat and looks around the room awkwardly, not quite focusing on any point or face in particular.

“...well!” Johanna announces, finally breaking through the silence that permeated their shared space. “I don’t know about you, but the first thing I want, is a fucking drink.”

—————

“Where’s Cato? I haven’t seen you two apart…actually at all, since you got back?” Glimmer invites herself to the foot of Clove’s bed, hands full of bed sheets and thread. “Off in that silly little meeting of boys?”

“Finnick showed up and practically begged him to go.” Clove confirms, pulling herself to a more proper sitting position and tucking her feet back to sit criss-crossed underneath her. “I don't know if it was actually a meeting or if he was just trying to make him go get his allotted thirty minutes of fresh air.” As she sits she tugs at the newly replaced IV in her hand, bringing forward the poll that was attached to the long bit of tubing in her hand, reminded of the inconvenience she thought she had escaped.

Glimmer reaches out a hand to brush over the back of Clove’s, immediately calling attention to the new intrusion. “Clove! I thought you were done with these?”

“Eh. A small setback. Turns out part of my lung just like..collapsed when I was trying to throw this morning. It was filled with blood, it got pretty nasty. I guess I still have some internal bleeding and bruising.” She pulls down the top of her hospital pajamas, showing the literal tubing coming out from below her clavicle, which is filled with fresh ruby blood. “Shoved this in me, the IV is for the pain. I don’t think I need it but–”

“Your lung collapsed. You have a literal piece of plastic sewed into your skin. And you don’t think you need the pain meds?” Glimmer cocks a blonde eyebrow, before mirroring Clove’s cross legged posture. “You’re stronger than anyone else I know, Clove. Stubborn, but strong nonetheless.”

She offers Clove a bit of thread and one of her stitching needles, along with the upper half of some shredded fabric. It had started off handedly– a story of how Clove used to stitch up Cato, how they had been taught in the academy and how she didn’t want to lose that skill too when people were here to baby her. Someone, Primrose Everdeen maybe, had suggested it may be a good therapeutic exercise for her to use the fine muscles and tendons in her hands, to work on stitching and maintain her fine motor skills.

Really, though, it was more of a therapy for Glimmer, who desperately needed to feel needed, who desperately needed a friend to distract her brain for a few hours a week.

It worked out for both of them.

“Any other injuries you wanna admit to, Clove?” Glimmer inquires, absentmindedly beginning to run a new type of fabric stitch on the opposite end of the fabric from Clove. “You know I have no one to tell.”

“Nope. Just the usual. Broken ribs. All my major joints are useless. A lung that gave out. Oh, some internal bleeding…” Clove tries not to reveal her frustration when she cannot thread the needle, cannot keep the intrinsic muscles of her head steady enough to connect the two pieces. The shaking of her right hand betrays her as she drops the needle, grip strength so diminished she can't even keep hold of it for long enough to throw an anchoring stitch in the fabric. Clove throws down the fabric in defeat, running her hand now over her face instead.

“But hey. My skin is coming back together. Just ugly fucking scars for the rest of my life–” Clove reveals the skin of her thigh to Glimmer, the puckering of stitches and the greenish-yellow hue of a bruise starting to dissolve under her skin. “Just fucking great, Glimmer. I’m just great.”

Glimmer drops the fabric, and immediately pushes up the sleeves of her District Thirteen issued henley shirt. Her own scars are not as angry red or freshly bruised, but rather a raised, pink granulated tissue in rivulettes from her elbows to right where her wrist meets her hand. “We all have scars now, Clove. No more magic Capitol tricks to take them away. I clawed my way out of handcuffs, using blood to lubricate my way out.. We all have scars now that we’re going to carry for the rest of our lives. You are alive. You have Cato. By all standards, you’re dong pretty fucking great compared with the other option here.”

Glimmer picks up the little fallen needle and wordlessly threads it for Clove, saying nothing nor expecting any gratitude from the other woman for the act. “You have Cato. Who will not leave your side, who shoves into a twin-sized hospital bed with you somehow–”

“We slept in a twin sized bed at the academy when we were sixteen until he won. We’re used to it, is all.”

“It’s still sweet. How he is so insistent on being near you all the time, all he thought about that whole time was you Clove, I’m shocked they even got him away from you now.”

“Yeah well.. I made him go with Finnick, too. It’s not good for him to sit here and treat me like a porcelain doll all the time. For either of us.” Clove takes Glimmer’s offering with no words of thanks, as the exchange would prove too embarrassing of a hit to Clove’s fragile confidence.

Her confidence being the only truly fragile thing about her, may she add.

“He sleeps with me and he is always touching me but it’s like he’s scared to touch me, you know?” Clove explains, hoping it is not too much information for what had become her closest friend. “He thinks I'm fragile.”

“He doesn’t think you’re fragile.” She nearly scoffs, giving a half hearted laugh. “He thinks you’re anything but. He just doesn’t want to hurt you.”

It’s Clove’s turn to scoff and laugh at that. “He has never given a fuck about hurting me. He broke my collarbone the day we met. After he won, he used to push me so hard at training that I couldn’t walk the hundred steps to my room at training. One time he picked me up by the throat and slammed me against a wall until I could escape myself. Our entire lives have been hurting each other–”

“Well you��re not the one getting choked against a wall now, are you?” Glimmer deflects, and a wicked smile floods Clove’s face at the realization of the lighthearted change in topic.

“I wish I were getting choked against a wall in a different way, you know?” Clove teases, laughing as they fall into a comfortable silence as they work on different types of stitching– human skin or low thread-count sheets.

“You know Marvel is going to come around, right?” Clove offers out of the blue, seemingly coming from nowhere with the topic change. “You said that all Cato thought about was me, well, that was him too. We shared a wall. Lots of conversations were had through six inches of concrete and all….he’ll come around. He just needs time to remember–”

“Clove, he won’t even look at me. He won’t come around, because he remembers it all just fine. Do you know what he said to me that day? That I used him, that he was just another client to me. He said that…that..that I just picked him because he was there! He doesn’t believe that I love him, Clove. He thinks I just..faked it all.” Glimmer catches the skin of her finger in her needle, and quickly brings the blood drop to her lips to staunch the bleeding. “I didn’t fake a thing. Not with him. He is the only person it was ever real with and I just- I just…I miss him.”

“He loves you too, Glimmer. He never stopped.”

“Yeah, well, he shows it just like every other man I’ve ever met, now.”

—————

“There's my favorite cellmate!” Marvel’s voice pops out, a goofy grin on his face as he lets himself right into her room.

“Let me guess, it’s your turn to babysit me?” Clove slams shut the book she had been reading, some silly novel from long before the dark days in a language that was English but also so much more complicated. The only type of enrichment activity she got these days was mental, it seems.

“Huh? No, no of course not, no...yeah, actually. Yeah. But! I came because I wanted to see you, not because It’s my turn to keep you supervised.”

Clove swings her legs over the side of the bed, placing her feet firmly on the ground before pushing herself to a standing position. She had quickly discovered if anyone was going to let her get away with something it was going to be Marvel– he was not going to keep her in bed with crafts or insist she not move too much at risk of re-angering an existing injury or worse, making a new one. Maybe it was because he had been there when she was at her absolute worst in the Capitol, right alongside her, but he didn’t quite treat her like her skin was made of glass. “Let me guess, another meeting of all the victors but us?”

“The privilege of being the special ones who got pulled out of the arena apparently comes with a security clearance.” Marvel shrugs, nodding his head enthusiastically towards the door. “Peeta bread down the hall is in therapy, Johanna went backwards today in terms of progress with water, and Annie is..well she’s Annie. Oh but us, we’re the big scary careers remember? We’re the little captiol plants, that's why they tried to kill you, makes it more believable you know?”

Clove hops off the bed and practically scurries towards the door, at the chance to escape her sterile prison at any slight opportunity that arises. As she gets closer to her chaperone she notices the permanent marker writing on his arm. “Look at you, you got slave to district thirteen privilege, what are you blowing off right now?”

“History of Nuclear Defense. It’s pretty cool, but I can’t look at that guy from twelve for more than fifteen minutes-”

“Well you are the one who threatened to stab him for cheesecake, Marvel.”

“I was kidding! Mostly!” Marvel gestures to the left to turn out of the hallway, the long way away from the fellow prison (hospital) cells of their friends and fellow victors. Other than Annie, he has had the hardest time accepting what has happened to them, and even more so why he was left without the physical scars of his friends. “Apparently Cato and Glimmer have both gone after him, I think our turn is long overdue.”

They take their government mandated stroll up and down the hall, back and forth, as they do any day that Marvel gets assigned Clove duty. It’s the most exercise anyone will let Clove have, the most autonomy, even.

“Have you heard anything about back home? Noone will tell me shit, and I don’t know if they don’t know or if they’re trying to spare my feelings like I'm a child who can’t handle the reality of war.” He half whispers, all too aware (and maybe even a little paranoid, after their time in the capitol) that someone is always listening for something even the littlest bit treasonous to slip their lips so they can be hung in the proverbial town square.

“Glimmer knows nothing about Gloss and Cashmere. They can’t tell me anything about Enobaria. I thought asking every day would break them but-” Clove gives half a shrug, kicking her feet along the concrete floors. “Noone can tell me anything about her. We don’t know about Brutus, either. All Cato wants to know is about his sister. I don’t think anyone knows. Or if they do, they’re keeping it from all of us.”

He doesn’t respond, just gives a nod at the reality of their situation. If anyone knows anything, it is well hidden from all of them. “You know, I’m not glad you’re still in the hospital, but I’m glad Cato sleeps with you, he’s supposed to be my roommate. We have fucking roommates, what is this, war boarding school? Between this and the classes, I feel like they left some gaps in our education in the districts. Who knew we should know how to do nuclear fission by eighteen.”

“I literally don’t even know what those words mean.” She half-laughs, shaking her head in disapproval. “Other than the games and then, you know, the capitol, I have barely spent a night away from him since we were sixteen. I think you’re safe to push the beds together to make yourself one big one, because he won’t be there anytime soon.”

Clove supposed that meant that Glimmer was meant to be her roommate when all was said and done. In another life, they probably would have switched in the dark of the night, Clove and Marvel or Glimmer and Cato, rearranging the sleeping arrangements in a way that would scandalize the upper-administration of thirteen and they would not have cared. All they would have cared about is having been together, at whatever cost. Things are different, now, though.

“You need to talk to her.”

“I don’t want to talk to her.”

“Marvel I do not know what they said to you in those last couple of days before we got out, but a week before all you wanted in the entire world was to see her again.” Clove reminds him in a voice that can only be described as lecturing. “All you have to do is talk to her, you’ll know she meant it all.”

“I just can’t get it out of my head, Clove. That all along she was just using me. Over and over and over again, I just hear them telling me that it never would have been me. Why would it be me?” His eyebrows are just slightly knit together, and there's a hesitation in his voice that Clove can recognize as doubt.

Doubt. The strongest force in the world, like a spell that needs no more than a drop to permeate every inch of your being, to consume you. To burn you to the ground.

“Because you’re you. And she’s her. And I’m Clove, and he’s Cato. It makes sense just because it does. Some things just…are. And this is one of them.” She has nothing better to say, because there is no stronger answer.

Somethings are just meant to be because they simply are.

They pace in a peaceful albeit tense silence, for about five more minutes before the overhead alarm signals to them that a change in activity will happen in exactly five minutes, and her other supervisors will return.

“...you know that Glimmer and Cato got to go to the armory, right?” Clove informs him with a heavy, heavy sigh. “Cato gets target practice and I’m barely allowed out of bed. How’s that fair? I’m going fucking crazy, Marvel.”

“You almost died, you psycho, I think they’re just being cautious. Besides, you were already crazy.”

“I’m not made of porcelain or glass or ceramics. I trained in the best training academy in the country for ten years, I won the fucking Hunger Games.” Clove slams her hand into the door, blocking their entrance back in. “Do you think I'm some little broken winged bird?”

“You don’t have to tell me that, Clove. I was there. I know what you survived. I wouldn’t have. I don’t think anyone else would have.” He gently nudges her hand out of the way so he can make sure she actually goes back to her room. “You know, it probably wouldn’t have been so bad if you had just given them the screams they wanted.”

Clove scoffs. “That's rule number one. Never show weakness. That gets you killed. And besides, I only scream for one person.” She gives him a playful nudge with her shoulder as she pushes past him.

Who would have thought. At one time she saw him as one of the most annoying victors she had ever met, and now, he was the only person treating her like she had her own two legs to stand on.

Damn. Maybe trauma bonding is real.

“I don’t need babysitting, you know, Marvel.”

“Trust me, I Know that. Convince everyone else.”

—————

“It’s okay, Clove, you’ll get it back–”

Clove lets out a frustrated scream, throwing the knife to the ground. Finally, finally, she had gotten a knife back in her hand in the training room, a moment she had been working toward for weeks. She had expected it to be muscle memory, truly her second nature, and come back to her as easily as it had back when she was five years old and threw for the first time.

Apparently muscles lose their memory when they are severed.

“No, Cato, it isn’t fucking okay!” She grabs another one of the knives– albeit not the best quality, but she cannot blame that. She could kill with a plastic butter knife, before– and as soon as she raises her arm she nearly drops the knife from the sharp pain that runs through her shoulder. “This is all I fucking have, this is all I am, and I can’t do it. I could do this when I was five.”

The couple of throws she had managed to succeed in executing failed in other ways, each three feet away from even hitting her target. A failure, by academy standards.

“Baby, this is not all you are.”

“How would you feel? If the only thing that has ever made you remarkable was just..gone? This is all I have, yes it is. This is as close as I’ve ever felt to my mother, who chose the games over me, this is the only thing that kept my grandmother choosing to keep me alive, the hope that i’d actually win. I was tiny and frail looking then but I was good. I was the best. This is all I have, Cato. This is all I am, and now I'm not.” Clove tries, again, to bring her arm past parallel with the floor, and the pain is nearly unbearable. She does not cry. She does not show it. But god, god does it hurt deep in her bones.

“If this is hurting you, you need to stop, Clove.” Stupid Cato. Stupid Cato and his ability to know even the slightest change in her face, to be able to notice even her slightest tells. “You just need time and that's okay.”

“And what the fuck got into YOU Cato? What the fuck is this ‘you need to stop’ shit?” Clove snaps, stepping forward to grab him by the center of his shirt, pulling him forward with a jerk of her arms. “What happened to the person who broke me, and ran me until I threw up, and never once, not a single time, took fucking pity on me? What happened to the person who wanted to make me a better tribute, who wanted to make me a better fucking victor even when we were going to kill each other? I’m not broken, Cato, don’t treat me like I am.”

Cato shakes his head, and drops his hands to his side, before very very gently grabbing her upper arms. “Clove, I don’t want to hurt you, it’s not worth it.”

“Oh since fucking when don’t you want to hurt me? Pick me up by the throat and make me fight my way out, Cato!” Clove practically begs, deep eyes searching his face in desperation, pleading for understanding,

“That was to make you survive, Clove, not fucking kill you.” He tries, gently tightening his grip on her arms. “This isn’t all you are, Clove, not anymore. Not ever.”

“Cato, stop! Treat me like your fucking partner. Treat me like me, Treat me like you’re Cato and I’m Clove and we have spent our entire lives making each other better. I am begging you, treat me like me.” Clove sees the hesitation in his face, in the way he looks from her eyes to her nose to avoid the desperation in her eyes, and knows she has him. She grabs his right hand and pushes it up to the top of her shoulder. “Brace my shoulder, and do NOT let it go. If I cry or scream. Do not let it go.”

Something snaps in Cato, or maybe something reawakens, but he gives a firm, hard squeeze at the junction of her arm and her shoulder, feeling the tendons separate and slip underneath his fingers. Clove’s legs nearly give out, and it takes all she has not to whine in the true agony at the feeling of her joints sliding over each other again. He does not let go, or loosen the grip he has on her swelling shoulder joints. Cato twists her in his arms, facing her out towards the targets. “Go. Throw.”

His other arm is wrapped around her waist, and holds her up as her legs beg to give out and bring her to the ground. As her throws hit closer and closer to the target, Cato doesn’t comment on how he can tell exactly how hard she is struggling to breathe, or how he can feel her other hand shaking at her side.

“I have an idea.” Cato begins, finally letting go of her arm and her body and trying to ignore the soft whine that she lets out when he does. “Not that they’re letting us anywhere near a war but,”

He reaches for the same deep silver gun he had picked up all those weeks ago, when he and Glimmer had been given free range for an hour with Beetee taking pity on them. “Easier to hit with this.”

Cato slips it from his hands to hers, and notices the way her hand nearly falls at the weight of the weapon. Before the frustrated look can even befall her face, he has her back in front of him, with both of his hands on top of hers. He raises her hands in his, holding them out infront of her. “You’ll like it, at least until your arms are better.”

“Easy now, baby.” Cato whispers in her ear, “You’ve got it.” He promises, and when she finally pulls the trigger, he catches her back against his chest when the kickback reverberates through her and sends her a few inches backwards. “There you go,” Cato kisses right below her ear, just before she twists in his arms to face him.

The smile stretched across her face is worth it all in that moment, the wicked, dark energy she is so known for all but painted in her eyes.

“I knew you’d like that.” Cato teases, only slightly off guard when the metal falls to the ground with a loud cling and he feels her pulling him back. It’s effortless when he naturally lifts her by her waist onto the armory table, in a spot between the guns and knives and various weapons of choice for the assorted victors in thirteen.

Clove threads her fingers through the hair at the base of his neck and oh she is alive, alive alive again. As she pulls him down on top of her, she pauses only for a moment before catching his lips with hers.

“Remember, I’m not broken.”

“I know, Clove.”

#arwbfb tag #the hunger games #clato #cato and clove #clato fanfic #cato hadley #clove kentwell #glimmer thg #marvel thg #always remember we're burned for better tag #the hunger games fanfic

19 notes · View notes