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libertyybellls · 4 months

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KISS IT OFF ME !

pairing; finnick odair x f!dist4!reader

summary; finnick can’t take his eyes off of you in any crowd- but he can take care of you, what’s new?

contains; FLUFF, established relationship, finnick is still pining for reader, alcohol consumption- but positively i guess, reader is anxious in the beginning, objectification by the capitol as per usual.

a/n: i hope im not misunderstood but when i put specific photos or outfits/hairs in the headers of my works that is not directly what i am picturing the reader as! its more-so the hairstyle, or the outfit- or simply the aesthetic of the picture. not the race, hair nor body type. ur all cutie pies. ok anyways onto the fic kiss kiss.

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

“well would you look at that!” your stylist squeals in your ear, “from the moment you won your last games i have just been dying to design for you again and… here we are!” she ushers you to spin around.

she’d always been kind to you, perhaps less kind to your dignity- always wanting to flaunt you like a show pony- but nonetheless her support had always been there.

“it’s beautiful, thank you.” you smile small at her. so bittersweet, she was oh-so ecstatic to dress you up once more but to you- this meant less serenity to you. more agitation, more distress, more death.

it felt like a paradox, to be adorned in this sweet, innocent, baby pink before you’re sent away to a grim world once again- you’d already gone off on a tangent to finnick. you’d both sobbed solemnly about the cruelty of it all, how you would never be able to live in peace.

but finnick just wanted you both to have this one night, to indulge in the capitol before you were sent of to your deaths, obviously he would see the brighter side of thing- blabbering about plutarchs plan and how he only needs to protect you, katniss, and peeta until he can get you out of there.

sounds so very simple doesn’t it?

once you’d finished your interview you attended a party, a celebration for the third quarter quell. how ironic, what was there to celebrate?

you’d seen the food platters, the spiked drinks, and indulge you did.

your brain had been fuzzy by the time you’d escape the overbearing class of the capitol citizens, who wanted to know every detail of your life.

it was then- finnick had spotted you- so inebriated you’d genuinely laugh at something the woman next to you said.

feasibly being that she’d said something so pretentious you couldn’t help but tilt your head back in laughter. but nonetheless he admired.

he admired your dress, your smile, the way your eyes slightly disappeared when you laughed, the way your hair was laying down your back. he was simply under the spell of you.

it was then your eyes met his smitten ones, so love drunk- or possibly just drunk- that you’d excused yourself and made a beeline straight for him.

he’d encaptured you with warm arms, a leather corset-like article of clothing consumed his waist- followed by his white buttoned down that seemed to be unbuttoned.

you noticed the way his eyes consumed you- not like the others did. not like you were a piece of cake, not like you were something they had to have for the night, but someone who lit his chest alight.

“you look beautiful.” he murmurs into your hair, his hands around your waist.

“i hardly feel that way- im scared, i think.”

he shook his head, pulling you from his warm embrace much to your dismay. “don’t be. you’re with me right now.” finnicks plush lips lay atop your forehead now.

you laugh as he continues to peck your face, giggles leaving your lips.”so beautiful.”

it was only when you nearly toppled over your unnecessarily long pumps that he took not of your consumption.

“so head over heels it seems you’ve had a little to much to drink. what do you say i get you back to your room now? hm?” he straightens you back up. “run you a bath?”

you let out a muffled mm into his chest, your other hand placed on the side of his chest holding you steady. “love you s’much finn.”

it was his turn to laugh now, there was no mockery, no heinous act behind it, just you and finnick. “i know baby.”

#finnick angst #finnick fanfic #finnick fluff #finnick imagine #finnick odair #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair smut #finnick odair x reader #finnick oneshot #finnick smut #finnick #hunger games finnick #finnick x you #finnick x reader #finnick x y/n #thg finnick #my #finnick odair x you

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vasilissadragomir · 5 months

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one of the most heart-wrenching things about thg universe is that you feel the loss of who each character would be outside the circumstances of their birth almost as acutely as you feel the loss of the characters themselves.

sure, we know what lucy gray and her family would be doing in a different world; she’d be dancing and singing and making music which defines a cultural identity. but what about the others? would haymitch have been a hilarious, loving father with a family had he not been forced to survive 47 other children’s brutal deaths? would finnick have been a charismatic and beloved actor, bringing joy to immeasurable people on his own terms? would beetee and wiress have worked together to develop technology to make it easier to connect loved ones far and wide? what would reaper and annie have given to the world, or thresh, or rue, or even coral or cato or glimmer or clove?

if katniss wasn’t half-starving and forced to spend each day hunting to feed her family, would archery be her true passion? or if she’d been a well-sustained little girl with access to art supplies, would she have spent her time sketching captivating dresses? she picks up ropes and making fish hooks quickly—could her dexterity have lent itself to knitting, sewing, or crocheting with vibrant yarns and fabrics? there’s so much evidence that katniss finds clothing inspiring and empowering, even when she dismisses it as frivolous. she likes being pretty, she just hates the circumstances under which she’s made to look pretty. cinna shows her that beauty has its own power, and there are several moments in her interactions with cinna and his designs that make me wonder who she’d be if she had space for art and creativity in her life.

conversely, peeta has had art in his life since he was a small child, but for him, art has always been entangled with his trauma. he could bake and decorate well because he learned from his mother, a mother who beat him his whole life. but his talent grows, not only as a survival tool in the first games, but when he paints rue on the floor of the training center before the second games. his art becomes not only a symbol of his trauma, but a means of resistance and solidarity. in a world where peeta’s intrinsic kindness and loving heart had been nurtured and welcomed rather than abused, could he have been a painter, helping people find collective meaning in the simple realities of life?

could katniss and peeta have still found each other in another world, a world without the horrors they were raised with, and bonded over their love of art? could they have been each other’s muses?

maybe they find their way to share art, after the events of mockingjay, as part of their process of healing and falling in love with each other. when they’re finally safe and have been for a long time, maybe katniss fashions peeta an easel for him to paint in their living room. after months of watching him gaze out the window and paint the changing leaves, katniss takes to knitting on a rocking chair in the other corner of the living room to steady her restless hands. they work silently as the days go by, quietly exchanging the things they’ve made to give each other the reassurance and love neither could ever fully convey with words.

and maybe one day, when they learn there’s a baby on the way due in midwinter, katniss takes a page from peeta’s sketchpad and starts to plan a series of sweaters and hats and socks she can knit for the baby. and peeta goes to the little nursery upstairs and starts working on a mural, so the baby will have something beautiful to look at every day. they work together to design the perfect baby blanket for their child, to ensure they will always be wrapped in a layer of protection and love by their parents.

but even if they find creativity and beauty in their lives after the end of mockingjay, the art they make will simply never be what that art could have been had they not faced what they faced. art comes from suffering, yes, but the human condition has so much suffering as is, and we’d never know what kind of art they’d make if they hadn’t experienced trauma of a distinctly sadistic and inhuman nature. but maybe their children, raised in a better world with love and protection and safety and joy and creativity and expression, will be the ones to create the art peeta and katniss never could.

#thg #the hunger games #hunger games #katniss #peeta #everlark #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #haymitch abernathy #cinna #lucy gray #lucy gray baird #thg analysis #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #finnick odair #annie cresta #catching fire #mockingjay

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little-lynx · 1 year

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EVERLARK OUTFITS: THE VICTORY TOUR

This part of “Catching Fire” is done (finally) so I put it all together;) DISTRICT 11, THE SQUARE

I go to my compartment and let the prep team do my hair and makeup. Cinna comes in with a pretty orange frock patterned with autumn leaves. I think how much Peeta will like the color. <…> As the train is pulling into the District 11 station, Cinna puts the finishing touches on my outfit, switching my orange hairband for one of metallic gold and securing the mockingjay pin I wore in the arena to my dress. <…> I can hear the anthem beginning outside in the square. Someone clips a microphone on me. Peeta takes my left hand. // Catching Fire, ch. 4

I think this dress should be a little semi-official so I choose cape sleeve sheath midi dress. It’s perfect for autumn (and they have early autumn weather there in 11th). The hair is just plain + gold hairband = girlish innocent look like the one after the games (this tactics they choose for the Tour). Plus I wanted to draw Katniss with her natural straight hair because i draw her with her braid usually ;) And again nothing about Peeta’s outfit. You know I feel like Portia 😅 because I have to choose how to dress Peeta. I’m not complaining through. So it is black suit with golden buttons (matching Katniss’s hairband and pin), thin soft orange sweater and black leather shoes.

DISTRICT 11, THE DINNER

A pale pink strapless dress brushes my shoes. My hair is pinned back from my face and falling down my back in a shower of ringlets. Cinna comes up behind me and arranges a shimmering silver wrap around my shoulders. He catches my eye in the mirror. “Like it?” “It's beautiful. As always,” I say. “Let's see how it looks with a smile,” he says gently. // Catching Fire, ch.5

DISTRICT 7

Jackson has devised a game called «Real or Not Real» to help Peeta. He mentions something he thinks happened, and they tell him if it’s true or imagined, usually followed by a brief explanation. <...> But since Peeta’s greatest confusion centers around me—and not everything can be explained simply—our exchanges are painful and loaded, even though we touch on only the most superficial of details. The color of my dress in 7. My preference for cheese buns. The name of our math teacher when we were little. Reconstructing his memory of me is excruciating. Perhaps it isn’t even possible after what Snow did to him. But it does feel right to help him try. // Mockingjay, ch. 19

So we have only one sentence in “Mockingjay” about this outfit. And still I decided to draw it because I have a theory (head canon?) about it. I think Peeta remembers the color of her dress because it was special night for him (a lot of kisses and attempts to sneak away from everyone and maybe it felt very real at times) and also because she had two braids and the dress was red. RED is the color ❤️. / Peeta has dark red + black + a little bit gold which is also sexy color combination.

DISTRICT 5 I volunteer to take Annie back to my house in 12, where Cinna left a variety of evening clothes in a big storage closet downstairs. All of the wedding gowns he designed for me went back to the Capitol, but there are some dresses I wore on the Victory Tour. <…> Annie wears a green silk dress I wore in 5, Finnick one of Peeta’s suits that they altered— the clothes are striking. <…> As surely as the embroidery stitches in Annie’s gown were done by Cinna’s hand, the frosted flowers on the cake were done by Peeta’s. // Mockingjay, ch. 16

Katniss: green silk dress + wavy sleeves + sea waves embroidery / Peeta: ivory dress shirt + knitted green waistcoat with sea waves embroidery + tweed suit

DISTRICT 2

Girl talk. That thing I've always been so bad at. Opinions on clothes, hair, makeup. So I lie. “Yeah, he's been helping me design my own clothing line. You should see what he can do with velvet.” Velvet. The only fabric. I could think of off the top of my head. “I have. On your tour. That strapless number you wore in District Two? The deep blue one with the diamonds? So gorgeous I wanted to reach through the screen and tear it right off your back,” says Johanna. // Catching Fire, Chapter 15

This description gave me strong “Anastasia” feels 😅. So I loosely based Katniss dress on Anastasia’s ballet evening gown. For Peeta I chose tuxedo jacket similar to Salvatore Ferragamo design for FF 12/13. Neo classic, purple velvet, shiny shoes. Also I decided to include a cane, both to help Peeta to have some rest during all this Tour activities and as an accessory.

DISTRICT 12

When we reach the mayor's house, I only have time to give Madge a quick hug before Effie hustles me off to the third floor to get ready. After I'm prepped and dressed in a full-length silver gown, I've still got an hour to kill before the dinner, so I slip off to find her. <…> She [Madge] saw my reflection behind her and smiled. “Look at you. Like you came right off the streets of the Capitol.” // Catching Fire, ch.6

When I started drawing this one I just felt that I need to make it look very “Capitol”. So I added some feathers. A LOT of sparkling feathers, haha. Also there are some “moon and stars” accessories in Katniss’ hair because this silver gown gives me moonlight vibes. For Peeta I came up with classic suit but made him wear it casually.

#yes I redraw some of them #old ones looked bad #ugh #the hunger games #hunger games fanart #everlark #everlark fanart #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #katniss and peeta #thg fanart #lynx hunger games #lynx thg outfits #victory tour #catching fire #catching fire fanart

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ilguna · 1 year

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☼ one true love (Peeta Mellark) ☼

summary; to everyone else, you're nothing but a rebound to Peeta. to Peeta, you are his one true love.

warnings; swearing, death mention.

wc; 3k

notes; no katniss slander, but there is gale slander ;)

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The nerves are eating you from the inside out. One minute you think you’re going to be sick all over the concrete floor, so you’re in the bathroom hanging your head over the toilet. The next minute, you’re back on your feet, pacing back and forth in front of the door. You can’t sit still anymore, it’s not an option.

What are you supposed to say to him? It’s only a matter of time before he lands in District Thirteen with the other captured victors. Will he even want to see you? Is Katniss going to be the first person he asks for? You saw him on the television a few days ago, he was talking about her, worried about her wellbeing.

The last time you saw each other was before the Quarter Quell reaping. It was brief, because he needed to go on stage, and you were late traveling from your neighborhood to get to the Justice Building. All he did was kiss you, and then he was gone.

You think he was expecting to say goodbye, like the Peacekeepers usually allow, but when you tried to go inside, they told you that the rules changed. And before you could think to start running to the train station, they told you that there was no farewell there, either. That was it.

You couldn’t breathe, you were sure that would be the last time you’d ever see him, and it was cut short because you couldn’t leave the house a couple minutes earlier. But you were so, so mad at him for the months leading up to the reaping. It was a nightmare being with him.

His time was consumed with training, he was constantly talking about volunteering over Haymitch if the opportunity presented itself. He wouldn’t listen to a single thing you said. You hardly spent time with him, and when you did, you would’ve been happier by yourself. He became a new person, one you didn’t recognize, one that didn’t seem to like the idea of you half the time.

You almost didn’t want to go to the reaping. You knew what was to come, what was the point of showing up, besides to avoid getting in trouble with the Peacekeepers? And then all he could do was kiss you, because he was so pressed for time. He didn’t say anything to you.

Suddenly, you turned the anger onto yourself, because you couldn’t believe you were so stupid to miss such a vital moment with him.

You tried to make up for it. Even though the week leading up to the Quell was chaotic in District Twelve, as much as you were afraid to leave your house to see the mandatory viewings, you still did. You saw him everyday in the Square, and each time you got your heart broken because it was like it was never an act between him and Katniss.

You thought it was bad enough the first time around, because he didn’t know your feelings yet, and he was putting on this real show for the Capitol, but it’s so much worse, knowing that he feels the same way for you.

When you and Peeta had started talking again after he won the Hunger Games, your parents warned you that it would end up being a mistake. They knew how you felt about him before he was reaped, and how it wouldn’t change before he came back—if he came back. Even if he was kissing Katniss Everdeen in front of Panem.

They were right about your feelings, of course. You and Peeta were close friends for years. You had classes together in school, and you’d hang out in the bakery every day after school. You’d sit there for hours, doing your homework, while also watching him pipe designs onto cakes and cookies for those who could afford to buy it.

You didn’t think he noticed the way you’d watch him throughout the day. The way his eyes would light up when talking about something he liked. Or maybe a new technique he discovered when making designs on cakes. How carefree he looked when doodling on his papers. The amount of times there would be a mini portrait of you in the corner of them.

While your whole day was centered around him, he had other things on his mind, like Katniss. Well, that’s how you felt when he announced his love for her in the interview. And then he came back with her, breaking the rules of the Hunger Games, completely enamoured with her. When you hadn’t gone to visit him in a whole two weeks after, he showed up at your door to see you, to make sure that you were okay. You tried to shrug him off, but he didn’t take that as an answer.

You thought that if you held him at arms-length, that it would be a distance between you two. If you’re not close, then there would be no point in keeping you around. After all, he does have other friends—other people he can surround himself with.

Fortunately for you, it didn’t work. You honestly should’ve known that it wouldn’t, because out of all the friends you’ve had since growing up, Peeta has by far been the most loyal out of them. He’s still here, and he’s seen you go through the motions. That’s why he figured out that he hurt you in some way while he was gone.

He refused to leave you alone, he later told you that you were one of his last friendships he had since he won. Everyone else wasn’t seeing him the same way you did. While you saw him as human, and virtually the same person you had before he left, others saw him as the victim.

You remember being so flustered admitting your feelings to him. The hot feeling in your face, the tears that threatened to take over your eyes. The way your throat clogged, and the words croaked out. You didn’t even want to look him in the eyes, afraid to see his reaction, but it’s like you couldn’t look away. You needed to see the raw reaction in case he lied to you.

Peeta smiled.

It took a lot of explaining from him to get you to see how he was thinking after he was reaped. He needed help from sponsors, which meant that he had to play the Capitol in some way. And while what he said to Caesar in the interview wasn’t completely false, it wasn’t true either. He wasn’t settled on Katniss, because he knew if he won, he had someone better at home; you.

He wasn’t anticipating coming back with her. If he’d known, he would’ve played it differently. Katniss was completely indifferent to him, and he realized that after she looked for him once the announcement was made. As for you, he knew that if you were there with him, you wouldn’t have left his side, not even for a second.

He was happy you felt the same way he did, but he warned you that if you two started seeing each other more seriously, and possibly started dating, a lot of people would be unhappy. And at the end of the day, you could be one of those people. He wanted a relationship as much as you did, but the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you in the process.

Since that day, he tried to do everything he could to keep you, while also keeping the peace with the Capitol, even if they didn’t know what was happening between the two of you. There was a lecture from Haymitch—a man that you thought you’d never have to meet in your life—telling you that you’d have to be extremely careful to keep it from the Peacekeepers.

The Victory Tour was rough, considering he did a complete one-eighty with Katniss for the cameras. It got worse when you watched him propose to her in the Capitol. He didn’t tell you that this was planned, and he promised to keep you up to date if he could. You were nauseated for the rest of the week, really afraid that you’d done it to yourself.

You were the first person he came to see when he got back from the tour. From the moment you opened the door, it was a string of apologies, and a tight hug, reassuring you that it's not what he wanted. Him and Katniss were in trouble, and they were trying to do damage control.

You watched all the mandatory viewings of Katniss trying on her dresses, the ones the Capitol liked the most, over the others. That was fine, it was easier to stomach, knowing that Katniss felt like she was playing dress-up for them. What wasn’t okay, was what happened next.

You were sitting with Peeta on the couch the night the Quarter Quell was announced. You two thought it was just another dress preview, and the rest of the night, you two were supposed to hang out. Then Snow said all the existing victors would be going back into the pool.

You remember seeing the color drain from his face, and panic seized his body. You opened your mouth to speak, but he was already excusing himself. He needed to talk to Haymitch, and it was a fairly long walk from your house to Victor’s Village. He pressed a quick kiss to your lips, and then he was gone. And you were left sitting in your living room, watching the Capitol react to the same news you’d just heard, wondering if they knew the effect this would cause.

It’s been a downward spiral since that day. You watched him go through that first week in the Capitol again, and it ended with him announcing Katniss’ fake pregnancy. You were inconsolable, watching him survive the cornucopia, just to almost die a few hours later because of a forcefield.

It was hard to swallow, but it was nothing compared to the fact that District Twelve was bombed on the third day. You don’t know how Gale knew where you lived, or why he chose you to save.

You knew of Gale in high school, but didn’t think anything of him. He was just another surviving teenager, trying to get through with his head down and make it out of the reaping alive. You learned more about him when he was presented as Katniss’ cousin to Panem to keep him from being seen as a threat against Peeta. As for you, Peeta was able to claim that you were nothing but a loyal friend.

You and Gale only met in passing.

Even though Gale knew what you actually meant to Peeta, he still left his family out of the hundreds that were saved. They were just across the street from Katniss’ family, and he still let them get killed. While he traveled across the district to tell you that a hovercraft was coming because the district was going to be bombed by the Capitol.

You’re grateful you’re alive, and so is your family, but you will never forgive him for doing something so cruel.

You feel the nausea rising in your stomach again, as you wipe your hands down your grey uniform to rid them of the collecting sweat. You’re sweeping your hair into one hand, really sure that you’re going to throw up this time, when the door to your dormitory opens.

You stop in your steps, turning to see who it is. You asked your parents to stay out for a little bit, because you really needed some time to think to yourself. You were almost put in the same room as Katniss and Finnick, so that you’d be able to receive the news of their arrival at the same time as them. Haymitch didn’t think it was appropriate, that’s why you were casted out, but said you’d be updated as soon as they landed.

Despite the fact that you and Peeta are very much dating, and he’s made it explicitly clear that he and Katniss are nothing but an act, you are seen as less than she is. In fact, the word they like to put on you is ‘rebound’. You’re Peeta’s rebound, because he couldn’t get Katniss.

You’ve tried to be patient with District Thirteen’s command, but they’re running it thin.

Haymitch Abernathy stands in your doorway, a grave look on his face. You don’t think he approves of you and Peeta, even though he tried his best to convince you two that he didn’t care what happened, as long as President Snow didn’t find out.

“Peeta’s here.” He says.

“Oh, finally.” You breathe, letting go of your hair as you start toward the door, “Is he in the hospital?”

“(Y/n), stop.” Haymitch blocks the path. “Peeta’s not in the right state of mind. It’s going to be upsetting to see.”

“That’s fine.” You brush him off, “Can we go?”

“You don’t understand.” He sighs, “He tried to kill Katniss.”

You stare at him for a few seconds, while your brain tries to push through this information. He was just concerned about her not too long ago, and now he’s trying to kill her?

You shake your head, “I want to see him, Haymitch.”

He doesn’t like your persistence, but he leads the way to the hospital, anyway. The two of you move through the hallway, into the elevator, out, and through another series of hallways. You can hear the commotion from down the hallway, the shouting coming from the other side of the hospital doors.

Once you walk through them, you’re met with chaos. You stop for a second at the doors, wondering if it’s like this all the time in here, but when you realize that Haymitch is still moving, you get right back to following. You catch sight of Finnick with a girl, and presumably another victor strapped down with a shaved head, rolling her eyes at the nurse.

The further back you go, the calmer it gets. You can feel the anxiety building in your stomach the moment you step foot into a tense room that holds a few vaguely familiar faces. You know Plutarch Heavensbee, he was a former Gamemaker. You’ve talked to him a few times. And then there’s Beetee Latier, one of the victors that was inside of the arena. And among them are a few other people that you don’t recognize.

No one pays attention to you, the conversation lands on Haymitch as soon as they see him. You stand there for a few minutes, nerves settling slowly while the anger begins to rise.

You take a deep breath to calm yourself. “I want to see him.”

There are a few stunned faces as eyes land on you. As if you somehow just materialized out of the air, and they didn’t see you when you walked into the room behind Haymitch.

“That might not be a good idea.” A man says, looking over you.

“You think that matters to me?” Your body’s trembling. He’s got to be on the other side of the door, the one that they’re blocking. You’re so close to him.

“Who are you?” He asks.

“If you all stopped smothering me, then you’d know that I’m his girlfriend.” You snap, “Not Katniss, me.”

Plutarch tilts his head, “Boggs has nothing to do with your current predicament, (Y/n). I’m going to give you access to see him, but you’ll return immediately if you see him getting violent, do you understand?”

You ignore his comment, deciding to keep the peace. “Yes.”

Several people move at once. While Beetee wheels himself across the room to press a button on the wall, which makes the wall to your left turn into a window, allowing you to see a preview of Peeta’s state. Boggs walks over to the door that you were looking at, pushing a key into the lock and turning it.

You don’t move from where you stand, lips parted as you let out a gasp at the sight of Peeta, strapped to a bed to keep from hurting himself and others. He’s lost all the muscle that took months for him to build up before going into the arena. He’s covered in black and blue bruises, there’s cuts across his skin.

You can feel the tears build in your eyes.

Peeta’s head lolls to the side at the sound of the key in the lock. He can’t even keep his eyes open.

“We gave him a sedative after he went after Katniss.” Haymitch explains, “He’s coming off of it.”

You start moving to the door. Boggs tries to stop you, maybe to give you some bullshit rules to follow while you’re inside, but you’ve already shoved him aside and forced yourself through the door before he can even say your name.

Peeta’s eyes widen at the noise you cause coming through the door, jerking aggressively to see exactly who it is that’s entering the room. It takes him a second of looking you over, up and down, to realize it’s you. He relaxes into the bed, no longer pulling against the restraints, face smoothing over.

“(Y/n)...” He trails.

You can feel your teeth chattering, tears overflowing your eyes, “Peeta.”

“You’re here.” He breathes, “You’re okay?”

“I’m okay.” You sob, trying to wipe the tears away. You grab his hand, squeezing tightly, feeling another round of tears hit you when he holds on, refusing to let go.

You lean over the railing, your other hand outstretched to touch his face, where the bruises lie on his sunken cheeks. The back of your fingers brush against his skin. He takes in a breath, eyes fluttering shut while he leans into your touch.

He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, until he slowly opens his eyes, “I missed you.”

“I’m never leaving you again.” You tell him, “I promise.”

#ilguna #peeta mellark #peeta mellark imagine #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark oneshot #peeta mellark fanfic #peeta x reader #peeta imagine #peeta fanfic #peeta oneshot #peeta mellark x you #peeta mellark x yn #peeta mellark x y/n #thg #the hunger games #fluff

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asterias-record-shop · 1 year

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𓆩[in our next life]𓆪

𓆩[join the taglist!]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[join the main taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Finnick Odair x Fem! District 4 Victor! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut, slight angst

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 23K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - Peeta and Katniss weren’t the first to fall in love after the games. That title went to you and Finnick, your mentor after you were Reaped at the age of fifteen two years after Finnick. After being dragged back into the Games with the Quarter Quell, you both are determined to stop it, no matter what- especially if one of you would gladly sacrifice themselves for the other.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - Use of Y/N || i promise I do not write like this in the fic- || reader was also forced into prostitution, but Finnick forced Snow to make them a pair || reader is definitely bi but has no (sexual) relations with women in the story || Finnick’s hand around your throat can be seen as sexual but it’s mainly just a comfort thing at this point || a lot of mixed timelines, sorry want it to play in my favor || mainly based on the movies bc I haven’t read the books in forever || Reader and Finnick are titled the Princess and Prince of the Capitol || you basically replace Annie || inspiration of your story from other characters || weird baby names inspired by the sea (cuz District 4, sea fishing etc) || This is so going to be a series- || smoking, smoking opium || This actually takes place in several different times, first the drawing for the Quarter Quell to the carriage rides where you meet Katniss and Peeta to the interviews to the literal Quarter Quell, being rescued, then skipping to after the rebellion is won (my darling doesn’t die, he didn’t deserve it <3). || Cinna isn't dead and he’s your stylist, and you and Finnick get married twice (once before the Quarter Quell, another after the rebellion) and of course he designs your wedding dress. || Finnick pulls a stunt like Peeta, turns out to be true later on || first marriage is televised a few days before the games, second of course is private || marriage ceremonies inspired by cultures, yes I’m giving District 4 marriage ceremonies and no I’m not basing this off the wedding in the movie, and this is my own little spin on the fic - I didn’t want the wedding to be boring || the party Peeta and Katniss go to in the second movie is your wedding || ngl, with these plans, I’m hoping this is long- || slight rift between you and Katniss at first, but you end up being best friends quickly || you make Katniss question her sexuality bc you top her for a minute- || CPR & mouth to mouth || Classic warning such as cursing, fighting, blood, death, and more to be wary of. || mentions of Finnick’s forced prostitution (brief, my baby has suffered enough) || smut is included in this; mentions of voyeurism and exhibitionism (explained in the story), breeding kink, size kink, oral (♀ & ♂), fingering, spit, slight choking, slight dom-sub dynamics, sex is definitely a coping mechanism, degradation, name calling (slut, whore, cumslut, maybe more?), probably dirty talk if you think about it that way, praise, mentions of a hazy mindset that could be seen as a subspace, definitely a soft dom turned pleasure dom turned rough dom Finnick, and more- just be wary.

—𓆩[CHAPTERS]𓆪—

𓆩♡𓆪 CHAPTER I 𓆩♡𓆪 CHAPTER II 𓆩♡𓆪 CHAPTER III 𓆩♡𓆪 CHAPTER IV 𓆩♡𓆪 CHAPTER V 𓆩♡𓆪 CHAPTER VI 𓆩♡𓆪 CHAPTER VII 𓆩♡𓆪 EPILOGUE

ALL CHAPTERS ARE UP!!!

—𓆩[DRABBLES]𓆪—

𓆩♡𓆪 N/A

—𓆩[EXTRA FICS]𓆪—

𓆩♡𓆪 N/A

1K notes · View notes

avoxrising · 4 months

Text

The Feral One • Ch 26

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

A second chapter today as promised

Content Warnings - injury, surgery, mention of psych eval

An hour feels like forever as you watch the one you love slowly fade away. You’re passed out again by the time Peeta returns with a medic.

“I could only find one,” he pants, trying to catch his breath. “There were a lot of injuries due to the bombs.”

The medic kneels down to take a look at you. Your blood was still black, worrying the entire group.

“Please,” Finnick pleads. “You have to help her.”

“There aren’t enough of us right now to handle this,” the medic shakes their head. “Half of our unit died to the bombs this morning.”

“Can you radio for someone? Anyone?” Finnick asks.

The medic was able to call for an armored vehicle to come pick you up. They didn’t have any medical supplies but they could drive you to the hospital.

Finnick holds your limp hand the whole way, refusing to let you leave him.

It’s been 12 hours with no news. The doctors immediately rushed you into surgery when you arrived, not even letting Finnick come with you.

Finnick sat alone in the waiting room of the hospital. Peeta had been taken in for a psych eval and Katniss was in the ICU. Boggs was dead, the Leegs were dead, Prim was dead… (Gale was unfortunately not dead)

A gloomy aura hung over the capital that day. The rebels had won but at a high cost. Finnick didn’t know what he would do with himself if you didn’t make it.

“Finnick,” someone states as they nudge his shoulder. The blond looks up to see Johanna in front of him.

“Jo…” he replies. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard what happened…,” she starts. “I needed to be here. They flew me out from thirteen.”

“Thank you,” Finnick hums as his friend sits beside him.

The two of them sit in silence for hours, Finnick periodically dozing off in his chair.

Johanna nudges him awake when the doctor comes out.

“She made it through surgery,” the doctor states, causing the victors to let out a sigh of relief. “She’s in a medically induced coma for the time being. She’ll need to have another operation in a week to remove the mass in her brain.”

“What mass?” Finnick asks.

“The timer…” Johanna mutters.

“We don’t know exactly what it is,” the doctor explains. “We do, however, believe that it’s the cause of her sudden illness. The doctors are in contact with Mr. Latier to devise a safe plan of removal.”

“Can we see her?” Finnick asks.

“I’m afraid she’s in a quarantine until her immune system rebuilds strength,” the doctor responds. “We need to check you for injuries but after I can set up some chairs outside her room for you.”

Physically, Finnick was fine. The doctors gave him some fluids and treated some cuts but released him soon after.

He wanted to help you in any way he could. The hospital was running short on blood so he donated some. Unfortunately it couldn’t go to you but Johanna’s blood was able to.

The doctors did a full body scan on Johanna and determined she was clear of any capital additions, meaning she could donate blood and tissue to you. She spent every moment with Finnick, only leaving to grab him some food.

Mags and Annie called daily from 13 but weren’t able to come to the capital yet. District 13 was working on assigning the victors places to stay in the capital until Snow’s execution but they weren’t ready. There was still a lot of cleanup to do.

Beetee flew in two days before your scheduled surgery. He showed Finnick and Johanna the brain scans and explained in technical terms how they were going to extract it without triggering any reactions.

“My hacking abilities allowed me to gain access to the experiment database of the capital’s military lab,” he explains. “A similar experiment was done on some rats around 60 years ago. Luckily we do not believe removing it will cause any further damage to her system.”

“What was it designed to do?” Johanna asks.

“I believe the experiment was designed to trigger a rabies-like reaction in the subject; resulting in their death. However, I hypothesize that the process did not complete itself in her due to the amount of blood she lost. The reaction is transported via the bloodstream so it ceased when there wasn’t enough blood left to continue it,” he explains. “She’s lucky she got here when she did. The doctors told me they’ve never seen someone that low on blood survive for that long. I’m optimistic that once we gain access to the medical equipment in the military hospital she will heal fairly quickly.”

“Thank you,” Finnick responds.

“We’re victors,” Beetee states. “We look out for each other.”

Taglist:

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*if the tag didn’t work please check your settings to make sure other blogs can tag you

#hunger games #finnick odair #hunger games fic #the hunger games #finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #finnick odair angst #finnick angst #mockingjay part 2 #the feral one #avoxrising

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phefics · 3 months

Note

This just came to my mind while I was studying for my psychology exam - but what do you think THG would be like if they were dating a reader who is a theatre performer? Like them picking the reader up from rehearsals that ran overtime, watching their performances and listening to them talk about their crazy (and sometimes kinda weird) rehearsal memories?

I hope this makes sense because I am not too great with explaining things

this is so cute, not weird at all!! you didn't specify the guys so i'm gonna do all the characters i write for. hope you like!! xo

coryo is supportive, mostly because he likes the idea of dating someone who could be famous one day. he brags about your talents to people at school/work, and comes to every show, sits in the front row, and brings you roses. he admires your dedication, even when it means staying late to run scenes or crazy rehearsal stories.

finnick loves to watch you perform. he's been caught trying to sneak into your rehearsals before, and given you a sheepish grin as he's escorted out of the theater. he's just so captivated by you. as someone who has spent a lot of his life performing against his will, he loves to watch you flourish doing something you love. he loves hearing about cast drama, like straight up will make popcorn to listen to the gossip.

gale isn't super into theater but will be supportive! he likes that you have a hobby you're so passionate about, even if he doesn't understand. he tries to make every show when he isn't busy with work, and has terrible theater ettiquette the first time and keeps cheering every time you're on stage, so you have to explain that he can't do that, lol. he also picks you up from rehearsals because he won't let you walk home late at night, ever.

haymitch isn't very into the arts, in general - he's just never had an urge to consume it or have a hobby of his own. but seeing you feel so passionate about it and have so much fun opens him up to the idea a lot, and i can see him definitely going to your shows and finding the beauty in live theater.

johanna would be a stage crew girly, so i think she would participate in your theatre stuff (if it was local/small, i don't think she would pursue it as a career) and she does the lights or sound. definitely ignores directions so she can put the spotlight on you even when you aren't talking in a scene.

katniss is very supportive, but i don't see her being into theatre at all - she'll go to your shows but doesn't really vibe with it, so she's there to support you but wouldn't go if you weren't involved. if you are in a musical production, though, she will get the songs stuck in her head and whistle/sing them around the house.

lucy gray is probably also involved in theatre!! or, she at least totally understands your passion as well as your workload. if you do musical theatre, she helps you practice your songs and learns them on guitar so she can play them for you. she is always cheering so loud in the audience - she is so supportive and loving.

peeta would probably get involved in your production behind the scenes, painting sets. he is so supportive and i could even see him joining the show if you convinced him he'd be good - he's clearly a very charming actor and would probably find it fun. if he doesn't join you, though, he is in the front row of every single performance with flowers.

sejanus is the most supportive boyfriend ever, i swear. he will singlehandeldly fund your local theatre just so you can participate. he takes time off of work to go to every single show, and has flowers sent to you backstage. he helps you rehearse at home, always being a bit goofy and over-the-top when he reads the lines.

tigris would probably be involved as well, designing and altering costumes!! she loves to design and sew and having that outlet that benefits the community as well as her partner would make her really happy.

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satans-kneecap · 5 months

Text

The Hunger Games Books

• Katniss is described as having dark hair, gray eyes, and olive skin (although her mother and sister are pale, blue-eyed, and blonde)

• Peeta is taller than Katniss??? (which isn’t better, Josh Hutcherson is a 5’5 king which really added to Peeta’s Movie Character)

• Haymitch is from the Seam, so he didn’t have blond hair or blue eyes

• Madge exists (and the mockingjay pin is hers that she gives to Katniss)

• Katniss gets blasted deaf in her left ear (although they quickly fix it in the Capitol)

• Peeta gets cut in the leg, and then the mutts maul it, which is the reason why he gets it amputated and gets the prosthetic leg

• Prim has a goat (I think her name was Lady?) as well as Buttercup the cat, which Katniss tells a story about after Peeta asked her to tell him a story

• Katniss attacks Peeta after he confesses about the crush during the interview, and she causes his hands to bleed

• Cato begs Clove to stay with him as she died (fuck Cato x Glimmer)

• The mutts were designed to look like the tributes (ex: one with blond fur and green eyes for Glimmer)

• Peeta has two fucking older brothers and they both watched him get picked for the Hunger Games like “damn bro that shit sucks” which is in complete contrast to Katniss and Prim

• Katniss waits the WHOLE NIGHT before mercy-killing Cato, she just let him be eaten alive for a couple hours

• We get to read about Haymitch’s Quarter Quell!!!!

• Katniss sees Finnick doing mouth-to-mouth on Peeta after his heart stops and basically thinks “Damn, Finnick, even for you this is wild”

• Her & Finnick trying to scare Peeta when he wakes up when they were all on the beach

• Katniss was ready to kill Peeta with a syringe to protect him after she got lifted out of the arena (she picks it up in the movie but it’s not really clear what her actual intentions were)

• Katniss’ prep team being chained on the wall of a room (I’m pretty sure it was in District 13 or something) just completely fucking naked???

• She fucking sucked at everything Plutarch asked her to do for the propos

To be fair, I still like the movies, but these are just some of the many differences

#thg #the hunger games #mockingjay #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #katniss and peeta #catching fire #haymitch abernathy #primrose everdeen #madge undersee #maysilee donner #finnick odair #gale hawthorne

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katnissdoesnotfollowback · 1 month

Note

Headcanon: Katniss tries to help Peeta at the bakery and burns her wrist. From then on until it heals after her bath at night Peeta sits behind her on the bed and brushes out her hair slowly and rhythmically

Can I interest you in some domestic post-mj fluff (or maybe it's hurt/comfort?). You'd think I'd know how to classify this by now. Rated somewhere between G and T depending on how you feel about non sexual nudity.

Enjoy!

<3 kdnfb

I’ve always hated burns. The way even the smallest of them causes excruciating pain. And now I have hundreds of reasons to hate them. And even though, as a baker, Peeta’s used to small burns on his own skin, he always submits to my care when I demand he let me soothe his hurts with whatever cold substance we have available. Ice from the freezer. Cold water from the tap. Snow from the ground if it’s winter and he tells me about the burn while we’re walking home.

But that hasn’t made it easy for me to accept his caring when I hurt myself. Sometimes, I’d rather hide it from him and find a closet to hide in while the memories of my sister feel contained in that tiny new burn, making the already unbearable pain into something unimaginable. At times, I think I may combust once again, the blaze starting at the new wound and consuming me within seconds.

This time, though, I can’t hide it. Peeta was right beside me as we were baking. He was trying to show me how to make the cheese rolls I love so much.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper as he holds my arm under the tap, running it full cold over my wrist. His grip on me is too tight to allow me to even pull back, let alone escape and run away.

I watch his jaw clench and rest my forehead on his chest, repeating my apology as the tears in my eyes burn almost as badly as my wrist. I want to collapse, but Peeta’s body pressing me against the sink won’t allow for even that.

“Stop it, Katniss. Stop apologizing.”

“I ruined them. I ruined the rolls,” I whimper and turn my head enough to spot them still scattered on the floor from where I dropped the tray after it slipped just enough in my grip to burn my wrist.

“I don’t care about the rolls,” he says and then twists his body, reaching for the cabinet where we keep the burn creams.

He sets it down on the counter and then grabs my chin, forcing my head up to look at him.

“Hey. Look at me, Katniss. I’m right here. Don’t look away. Say it.”

I take a few deep breaths, entranced by the depths in those blue eyes. The plea in them that whispers to me, begs me to understand his terseness. “You don’t care about the rolls.”

“I really don’t. Come on. Let’s get some ointment on this.”

It still stings, the ingredients designed to continue cooling the area and numb it as well. But it’s never enough to completely get rid of the pain.

I only know when he’s done because Peeta scoops me into his arms and carries me upstairs. He sets me down on the bathroom counter and starts the water in the tub, drizzling in fragrant oils.

“I’ll be right back,” he says and gently kisses my forehead. “I’m just going to make sure Buttercup doesn’t find the rolls and try to eat them. Don’t get in the tub alone.”

He’s only gone for a few minutes. I don’t budge during that time, but the tub is close to being full so Peeta turns off the water and helps me down from the counter, slowly stripping me, careful of my burned wrist. Then he lifts me up and lowers me into the tub.

As his arms retreat, he grips my injured arm and holds it out of the water before setting it on top of a rolled towel on the edge of the tub. I’m only half there as he brings a stool, screeching loudly on the tile floor, right next to the tub. Only half noticing the feel of his hands washing my body, all except for the injured arm.

But he must wash my hair because when I am able to note my surroundings again, we’re seated on the bed, positioned so that I’m gazing out the window, watching the breeze play with the curtains and the vibrantly red, orange, and yellow leaves shivering in the trees outside. I turn my head slightly when I feel a tug on my hair and realize that Peeta is drying my hair. Carefully gathering up bunches of it and squeezing out the the water, absorbing into a soft towel. Again and again and again.

“Start your list,” he suggests and I inhale the soothing scent of the cream I use in my hair to make the tangles easier to brush out. The scent of rose oil, but not the cloying, mutated smell of Snow. Gentler, wilder, softer. Peeta works the oil in my hair as I start the list, with Cinna this time, because Peeta’s hands in my hair reminds me of my old friend.

My eyes drift shut and Peeta hums encouragingly as I keep talking. He brandishes a comb and when I shiver, he pauses.

“Are you alright?”

“It’s soothing, don’t stop just…” He waits and I breathe in deeply. “I used to comb Prim’s hair, when Mom couldn’t and… I miss my mother braiding my hair.”

“I know. I’m sorry I’m such a poor substitute,” he says, lighthearted and without any self-pity.

No one needs me.

I lean back and turn my head, until I can see his face. I bend my uninjured arm to cup his jaw and his hands fall away from my hair.

“Say it,” I whisper and tug on his blonde curls until his lips brush mine. “Say it, Peeta.”

“You like it when I comb your hair. Real or not real?”

“Real. Say the rest.”

“I’m not a poor substitute.”

We’re distracted for a moment as his lips move over mine. Until he gently pushes me forwards again.

“Let me finish, impatient,” he teases and I smile, ever so slightly.

He resumes combing my hair. Steady and rhythmic, not unlike the way he kneads dough in the bakery, only much softer and gentler. Still, I find myself humming a quiet tune. A love song I remember my father singing for my mother. I don’t sing just yet though and the smile still curves over my lips when he’s done and secures the end of my braid with a leather hair tie. He bends over then and kisses my bare shoulder.

It’s only then that I realize I’m wrapped in only a towel and stand to put on a nightgown. After, Peeta applies more ointment to my arm.

Every day after that, he helps me bathe and braid my hair, careful to keep my injured arm clean and dry until I can stand water on it again. When we finally deem the burn healed enough to no longer need bandages, I ask him to join me in the tub and scoot forward after he undresses, leaving room for him to sink into the water with me, His thighs hugging tight to my hips and his lips soft on my shoulders, the back of my neck. He gently grasps my wrist and bends my arm until he can kiss the small new scar. And after we bathe, he combs and braids my hair for bed.

#words are peetas think not mine #everlark #post mockingjay #everlark fanfiction #anonymous #look at that ask #i swear i answer three asks and four more show up #am i complaining?#nah just overwhelmed lol

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coryosmin · 8 days

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Ooo what about the reverse? What makes thg characters blush?

coriolanus - coriolanus would blush if you wiped something off of his lip or off of his cheek. he’s not someone that blushes often but the act of you noticing a small crumb on his cheek or a eyelash on his face and taking care of it never fails to make his cheeks warm.

tigris - tigris would blush if you made a comment about how beautiful her designs were. like after she begins her successful stylist career, she’s still a bit new. and while she gets compliments frequently, nothing means more than your words. they always get her so flustered.

sejanus - sejanus would blush if you just looked at him and said “you’re so handsome” while he’s just studying or he’s doing something stupid like making dumb faces at you.

haymitch - haymitch is the type to blush or get flustered if you just make a comment about how attractive you think he is. especially if it’s in a group setting.

finnick - finnick would blush if he notices how intently you’re listening to him when he’s talking to you. your eyes focused on him, you’re nodding your head in understanding. he would literally stop mid sentence and get all flustered because his pretty s/o is listening to what he’s saying!!

johanna - johanna would blush if you tell her that you love everything about her, even her personality. she’s someone that comes off as very hardheaded but underneath her shell is just someone that wants to be loved, truly loved. and the fact that you love her even with her toughest parts never fails to make her blush.

peeta - peeta would blush if you hold his hand randomly in public. you both aren’t too huge on pda but he loves when you just grab his hand.

katniss - katniss would blush if you talk about how beautiful she is. she isn’t someone that sees herself as attractive so the fact that you think she is makes her cheeks redden so much.

#minsasks #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #thg #thg tbosas #tbosas #the hunger games imagine #the hunger games reactions #the hunger games headcanon #the hunger games triology #the hunger games smut #coriolanus snow #tigris snow #sejanus plinth #haymitch abernathy #finnick odair #johanna mason #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen

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adsosfraser · 8 months

Text

always

everlark; post mockingjay; jealous katniss

The roof is leaking.

The tin bucket rings with the tap tap tap of the evenly spaced droplets.

The deluge of rain hit hard last night and it has me humming happily, excitement in my chest.

I’ve always loved thunder. The way it rolls deep within my chest and echoes in the deep old bones of the mountains around us. I would squeal with each clap and reach up to catch it in our Seam home as my daddy smiled from his chipped armchair. We’d play a game of hopping from spot to spot on the floor at each rumble and though his eyes hung in deep dark circles from his shifts in the mines, my father never tired. Then, Prim was born and she was terrified of thunderstorms for a time.

It’s just one leak in our shiny and spiffy Capitol made home that’s been standing for almost a century now though. Thom and his builders have much more important things on their minds than a tiny leak in our roof.

Some people still don’t even have roofs. The make-shift canvas of the sturdy tents lining the district hardly constitute roofs.

When the war began, the Capitol wasn’t quite as invested in the architecture in their dear sweet Victors’ homes. They couldn’t keep up their perfect veneer in District 12 when they obliterated it into the ground. The poor things.

And besides, a little water didn’t hurt that much. In my father’s home, we had at least ten designated containers to catch the drip of rainfall.

When I step outside into the morning, the sun is bright and clear in the sky. No trace of the ominous grey and green puffs above remains. The grass is wet and smells of rain. A small trickle of a stream has formed on the gravelly road, opposite our home. At least the geese have been subdued into some semblance of peace because of the storm.

Peeta had left this morning before the sun even stretched out into the sky. Usually I would already be out in the woods too, or by his side watching him knead dough or wipe sweat off his brow.

But, I couldn’t settle last night. Even in Peeta’s arms I was restless. And when my eyes finally drooped shut, a nightmare had found me. The giant crash of thunder that split the sky in two in the middle of the night woke me up. In my dreams all I heard were bombs and gunfire. It had reminded me of-

Peeta let me rest in this morning when he heard my grumpy grunt as I shoved my face under the pillows to hide from the sunlight. Not that he let me do anything. But he had gently tucked me back in and left a muffin on my nightstand for when I was ready.

Part of me wanted to pull him back in by the shirt of his buttoned collar and waste away the day. But even my arms wouldn’t listen to my demands. The bed was so nice and I fell deep into the mattress covered in one of the sheets as Peeta left the fan to run for me. The cinnamon and dill buried deep within the fabric of his side made me feel like I was rocking on a boat, in a lake with gentle rolling waves in my head.

Besides, we haven't even kissed since he returned to me almost four months ago. At first the chaos of finishing the important parts of the bakery and going through the final touches to get it up and running had us distracted. Now I’m not so sure he wants to kiss me.

I kick the loose rocks littering my path to the bakery. They skip and hop and fling themselves in the air. One hits another rock and angles itself to launch at someone passing me clear across the street but their back is turned and they don’t even feel it ping off the heel of their boot. I mumble an apology to myself though, and feel the heat of shame caving in on me from every inch of air around me.

Before I know it, I’m in front of the bakery. It was one of the first buildings up in Twelve. Everytime I see it my heart swells with pride for Peeta. Even though it’s just the bare bones now, I can see its future clear across every brick. The sign hangs proudly over the front. The ‘s’ in Mellark’s is slightly crooked and splotchy because of my shaky hands, but when Peeta began painting it with such excited and reverent hands, he insisted I contribute to at least one part of it.

Normally, I never enter through the front door of the bakery. The back door has always been home to me in a way. The first time I ever came to the back doorstep, I was sitting tall on my father’s shoulders and happily babbling along to a tune he was singing. He and Mr. Mellark quickly exchanged two squirrels with a respectful nod and I mimicked them which put the trace of a laugh onto the baker’s weathered face.

Now, I want to surprise Peeta as one of his customers. The bell of the door jingles as I walk through the door. No one mans the front counter so he must be in the back.

“I’ll be with you shortly.”

His voice carries through the opening to the room with the ovens and prep tables and my shoulders relax at his calm but steady voice. The way the bakery was built and rebuilt, it’s easy for him to call out to customers without having to yell. My lip twitches up into a soft smile and I pull out one of the chairs dotting the tables around the room.

His clomping footsteps and another ring of the bell clash together in my mind. I look up to see the new customer, expecting someone from Thom’s crew but I instantly tense up at the sight.

Her hair is coiled perfectly into ringlets around her face and a big fur coat rests on her shoulders. Her chest is unnaturally large and her bottom even more so. But she’s perfect, right down to her nails. Not a blemish in sight and her blonde hair shines with health and lustre.

She’s big and pretty.

“Artementia!”

Peeta’s shout pulls me from my scrutiny of the clearly Capitol woman. His steps are quick as he approaches her and wipes the flour off of his hands onto his apron.

My head jerks back when he reaches for her across the counter and they embrace. His smile is brilliant and he doesn’t even notice me lurking in the corner.

“Oh my dear.” They pull back from their hug and that woman kisses both of his cheeks, dangerously close to the corner of his mouth. “It’s been far too long.”

“It really has Artie.” He squeezes her hand. “How have things been for you?”

“Well why don’t we go and have lunch together? I’m sure you’ll be having your break soon anyway.”

“It’s just me today, I’m not sure I can just close up shop for my lunch break.”

“They can survive without you for an hour I’m sure. Just flip your little sign over and we can go to the opening of that restaurant down the street.”

Peeta’s head turns to the back, searching a long moment for something. When he turns around, it seems he’s already made up his mind. He lets out a sigh before plastering his smile back on for the woman.

“Well alright,” His hands work swiftly to unknot the apron around his waist and place it on the counter. “Sure wouldn’t want anyone else to give you the grand tour of our pristine district.”

She places a hand over her chest and lets out a soft laugh and Peeta’s chest rumbles with a short chuckle.

They walk over to the door, not even glancing my way as Peeta flips the sign on the door over to ‘closed’ and locks the door. Before the door smacks shut behind them, I shove it open and storm past them in the opposite direction. To the woods.

The rock in my hand scatters to the ground.

It was pretty and I thought Peeta would’ve enjoyed its smooth surface and swirling brown rings.

But maybe now it’s not enough to preoccupy his mind with the pretty blood and flesh woman beside him.

His head whips back to the loud sound of the slamming door and ping of the rock and I quickly turn my face away from his line of vision.

“Katniss?” His hopeful voice calls out. But I’m already pushing to round the corner of the rebuilt merchant businesses. “Katniss!”

He can have fun with his gorgeous Capitol woman on his arm. I don’t care.

I save the grumbling for later though, my mind focuses on the ground below me as my legs carry me in a spring towards the fence. I duck under my spot in the chain-link and snatch up my bow and arrows.

After the fifth poor squirrel participates in my very important exercise of letting my feeling’s flow for the day, I climb up a strong and tall tree. I lean into the familiarity of pulling myself up its sprawling branches and swinging my body up and up. Reaching for the sky just as its leaves are.

Have I really lost my dandelion in the spring already?

Did the hungry storms of last night, and the contrast of the harsh summer sun this morning already wilt it?

He so easily welcomed that woman’s touch. Someone from the Capitol no less. And he’s barely touched me in months. Save our desperate grip on each other as the terrors of the night take over.

I will not be sharing a town with the woman Peeta so readily shares himself with.

Instead of rough bark behind my back, I feel the hard arm of a rocking chair digging into my spine. The room is cosy and safe, like Peeta. I feel the sway of my body with the branches of the tree and hug my knees tight to my chest.

“This baby takes nothing from you Kitty, my heart just has to grow some more. Like my tummy. That’s all.”

I relax into her arms, feeling the steady beat of her heart where my head lays. Her stomach is fat, nice and cushy. As fat as anyone in the Seam could ever get. She smells pretty. Like the dirt and plants Daddy lets me dig my grubby little fingers into. I feel the song rattle through my chest as she hums to me. My head gets droopy and I curl further into her. Her hands run through my hair and as she rocks our bodies together on the chair, my head clouds with dreams that I can’t touch yet. But I know they’re there. Happy and warm.

“I’ll always be right here with you baby.”

Shivering in the downpour I’ve been caught in, I hum the same tune she soothed me to. Without thinking, my body rocks back and forth on the soaked moss and lichen on the limb closest to the ground. If I let my hand hang limp from my side I could probably brush the tops of the chives sticking out near the base with my fingertips. I don’t remember my journey down from the top of the tree, but it must’ve happened somehow.

I could be crying. I don’t know. The fat raindrops on my face disguise any that may come.

But it would be hard to disguise the snot squirming its way out of me. I rub my bare forearm under my nose.

I do what I do best.

I run. I hide away. And I sulk.

It doesn’t matter.

They all leave.

Even if they don’t want to, they always do. My father and Prim's choice was made for them. I don’t know what’s worse. To have Peeta’s choice made for him or for him to actively choose that I no longer fit into his life.

Either way, it’s all unbearable to think about. I gasp in sharp breaths and my chest is tight with the pain and fatigue of it all. I feel like I’ve just run the worst marathon of my life, and I’ve never even gone over five miles when training for the Quell put a stick up Peeta’s ass.

His clomping footsteps alert me to his presence long before I can see his form through the sheets of rain obscuring my vision. Maybe if I tuck further into myself he won’t notice me sitting on the lowest branch of the tree.

I was never a lucky person though.

He approaches me slowly, like I would a skittish animal. I tuck my chin into the safety of my knees. Surely he’ll go away if I ignore him hard enough.

I feel the air move around me as he swings a leg up and over and brings his body to rest on the same branch as me. It’s not without difficulty though, I know his leg still bothers him and can be cumbersome at times. After a quiet moment of him gathering his balance again, he lifts my chin up with his finger.

I can feel the tear tracks, dry and crusty against my cheeks and I know I look like a drowned rat, or rather a drowned Buttercup from my little pity party under the torrential rain.

“Oh, Katniss.” Warmth floods through me, all-consuming and relieving as his thumb traces the skin under my eye. “What’s wrong baby?”

My nose stings again as a fresh wave of fat tears fall from my eyes at the nickname. My lip wobbles and I can’t breathe. I try to answer, but everything comes out as a choked sob. Peeta reaches around to wrap his arm around me, rubbing my back in comforting circles. When I finally get the words out, they’re incomprehensible with my stuttering breath, throat full of tears, and snot muffling everything. To anyone but Peeta, who knows me so well, past the need for language.

“Why doesn’t she want me anymore?”

“What brought all of this on sweet girl?”

“You’re leaving me.”

“Not real.”

“Maybe not your arms. But you are. Your heart.”

“Never Katniss.”

Fat rain drops fall from his delicate eyelashes, leaving behind them a darker shade of blond from the moisture.

“You’re right here Katniss.” His steady and warm hands take my hand that’s shivering from the cold. He guides it straight over his chest and the comforting thump of his heart beneath warms me more than his coat he wrapped tightly around me does. I blink at his motions, my mind puzzling and patching them together into an attempt at coherency.

His other hand reaches towards me and he watches me closely for any sign of apprehension in my eyes. I can’t manage any to bubble up in me at the moment. Tentatively, he presses the pads of his fingers against my own chest, speeding up the beat of my own heart along with his under the firm press the palm of my hand has against it. His fingers straighten until the heel of his own hand is flush against my heart. The soaked fabric of my shirt clings to us both from the water of the rain.

“And I’m right here.” The pitch of his voice sounds at the edge of a question and a statement.

It’s not fair to him to be stuck with me though, just because he knows I wouldn’t be able to handle it. He deserves someone good and beautiful. Just like him.

Not a girl scarred from the fire she wore for pageantry and glory.

“I’m not pretty enough for you. I’m not big enough.”

“Sweetheart.”

“I wasn’t enough.”

“Katniss.” My name breaks on his tongue; he physically can’t even force the muscles to move again, as if the ache in his chest is agonisingly painful from the blow of my words. I understand now. His heart is broken. Like I shot an arrow through him instead of the truth. Maybe I did, the day I sang to the birds in kindergarten and we’re forever tethered now from the invisible line of bow string to arrowhead.

“I love you.”

His beautifully made eyes well with tears, glossing the blue over with his pain. My eyes begin to water again, even after I’ve exhausted myself of the hydration required to sustain them. It’s not hard to feel what a man like Peeta feels for yourself, deep in your bones.

“I came back for you. Back to twelve. Back to myself.”

“It kills me that you think you’re not enough. I’m so sorry I said those words in 13 to you. I know I’ll never be able to take them back. Or the-” He stares at my throat, where his hands once wove together into a nest of fear and pure hatred and I swallow under his gaze. “But I promise Katniss. I will remind you how beautiful and smart and brave and loving you are every single day. You are perfect for me.”

“But you don’t want me.”

“I’ve wanted you that way ever since I’ve understood what it meant.”

But that doesn’t make sense. His constant distance and the sincerity behind his words clash within my mind. My brow furrows and my face deepens into a scowl.

“Show me.”

His eyes drag from their connection with mine, down to my lips. He looks back to me and his eyes widen with an emotion I’m all too familiar with.

“I’m afraid.”

“What?”

“I’m afraid I won’t stop Katniss. They changed me. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“So don’t stop. You’re my Peeta. No matter what.”

The kiss is gentle and sweet and I pull my body back against the rough bark, forcing him to lean into me even more. I cradle him between my thighs and smile against his lips. They taste like a fresh burst of blueberries on my tongue and my smile widens at the thought of him sneaking his own fresh muffin from the bakery’s supplies. The way his lips slide against mine, slick with the torrent of rain that assaults us is new and exciting. To consume the very rain itself off of his lip makes my chest flutter at the fact that not even the rain will get the chance to touch him that way so long as I remain in this embrace.

He shifts slightly against me and I immediately panic at the feel of him in that way. My body stiffens straight under him and he pulls back from my lips with a sheepish grin.

There’s an apology in his clear eyes but I won’t have that. I speak before his mouth can form the words.

I blurt out in a pant. “I like kissing you.”

I tuck my head into his shoulder to hide the blush that crosses my cheeks. But it’s too late. He’s already seen it if the dopey smile on his face is any indication.

“I like kissing you too.” His lips find the small space of skin by my hairline that isn’t hidden.

I scoot closer to him and burrow into his chest.

And that motion was a big mistake. Or maybe the best mistake I’ve made today.

We both carreen down into the cushion of soft grass below us when I push Peeta off-balance. A giggle bursts from my mouth unbidden as I land mostly on top of him. His body bears the brunt of the fall but he seems completely fine and a goofy grin crosses his face. He leans up to me and my heart flutters when he pulls me in for another short, sweet kiss. I nestle my knees around his hips and pull back from him with a smile.

I reach my hand to his ear and tuck a wisp of blond back behind his ear. The kisses and our proximity have made me bolder. Bold enough to interrogate him. “What is your little blonde girlfriend going to think about this?”

He sits up to bring his upper body off the damp ground and my body follows him.

“Who?”

I roll my eyes at him. I hold a hand to my chest and bat my eyelashes at him. “Oh Peeta it’s been far too long.”

“So that’s what this was all about. You were jealous?”

“No.” I scowl, crossing my arms tight over my chest.

“Katniss, she’s old enough to be our mother. Maybe even our grandmother.”

“Hmm.” My eyebrow twitches. “Maybe you’re into that sort of thing.”

He wraps his arms tighter around my waist, deliberately lower than where they were last time. He looks into my eyes for any sign that he’s gone too far but I won’t give him any. With a light pressure, he squeezes my backside tentatively with a wolfish grin, as if he’s just gotten away with stealing the last cookie from the cookie jar.

“What I’m into is what I have my hands full of right now.”

“But seriously Katniss, she saved us from the bombing in the Capitol after I tried to drag you away. She visited us both but I was the only one awake when she did.” His eyes are tender as he brushes a sopping wet piece of hair off of my collarbone. “It’s only ever been you my darling girl.”

“And it only ever will be?”

“Always.”

#everlark #one shot #adsofraser writing #thg #the hunger games #everlark fic #jealous katniss #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #post mockingjay

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oweninadaydream · 2 months

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫 ||𝐇.𝐀𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐲

summary : Haymitch finds solace in a friendship with young (Y/N). Now Haymitch is outside, watching. (Y/N) is in the Arena, fighting.

song inspo: "There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair" - The Great War by Taylor Swift

pairing : Haymitch Abernathy x fem!reader (platonic)

word count : 1.8 k

contains : angst, hurt no comfort, betrayal, found family trope, violence, some gore, death, this story is set way before Katniss and Peeta's games. Also, first time writing for this character so probably a bit OC Haymitch hahaha.

a/n : Here you have my first moodboard !!! I wanted to try and capture the vibes of the story in three images and I'm pretty proud of myself. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the story :) PD: shoutout to @sarahisslytherin for being so supportive everytime I have a crisis hahaha. Comments are always appreciated 🩷

“I think it’s time I have another dose of that medicine they've sent'' she said as a cue for him to get up from his spot and hand her the remedy inside the metallic jar. (Y/N) had been sick for a day and a half and, even though it was the boy's fault that they had encountered the monster that had bitten her, she wasn’t holding it against him. She knew she could trust him ; at the end of the day, the male tribute from her district had made an alliance with her and she had been doing everything in her power so that he didn’t die. He stood up and handed her the jar.

Haymitch had awoken suddenly after falling asleep on the couch while watching the games in the room designated to the mentors. The constant worry was affecting his sleep schedule and his appetite detrimentally. Not for the boy, no ; he didn’t give a shit about that brat who had skipped all the training sessions and had dismissed his mentor every time he tried to give them valuable advice. He was anxiously picking his lips for her, for (Y/N).

People thought Haymitch had met her after the Reaping, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Ever since (Y/N) was little, she roamed the District streets in solitude, as her mother had died and her father was extremely neglectful towards her. A younger Haymitch had recently become the District 12's victor and was beginning to develop a certain addiction to alcohol when, one cold afternoon, he encountered a young child by the gates of Victors Village.

Her sparkly eyes caught his tired gaze and a stare contest began. "I don't have time for this bullshit" he crankly thought while looking away. She asked him his name and that if that big house was his. He turned around and wondered whether he should engage in a conversation with the child who obviously had no better place to be at. He noticed the kid was underfed and didn't wear any winter clothes. The heart that had stopped beating after surviving the Hunger games came back to life , like a phoenix being reborn from its ashes. From that day on a very special bond was created between the two unfortunate souls. He was still very grumpy and had a little problem with drinking, but (Y/N) made him want to do better. She was incredibly smart and her sarcasm was one of the very few things that made the former tribute laugh. Their talks and dinners were a secret to the rest of the world ; he couldn't risk hurting the girl he had grown to love as a daughter.

He soon discovered her birthday was the day after the Reaping. This year she would turn 19 and the panic the Reaping used to cause her would finally end. Just one more year of not getting chosen and she could live a peaceful life, just like she had always dreamed of. The latter year Haymitch had been talking about taking her in as his daughter, as her father had also passed away. But before that could happen, the most disgustingly ironic thing happened.

"(Y/N), (Y/N) (Y/L/N)"

One day, she only needed one more day. But it seemed useless to whine about something that would not change anyway. The other tribute was a boy nobody really talked to, so neither she nor Haymitch had any idea of what to expect from him. To say that the mentor was devastated was an understatement. But he could not show it, his face impassible as ever instead.

He was there for every meltdown before the dozens of events, for every doubt she could have about how to make it out of the Arena alive, for every nightmare about what fate had planned for her. Haymitch observed with a worried frown how nobody approached (Y/N) during training week ; she was very astute but her mentor had stressed the importance of making alliances in order to have more chances to survive, and seeing how she was going to be all alone out there compressed his chest with acute pain.

He did everything in his power to prepare her for the multiple dangers she could be facing out there. Still, Haymitch’s mind couldn’t help but explore the darkest scenarios ; optimism was never one of his qualities. In the end, the apathetic boy from 12 decided to make an effort at the end of training season and he turned out to be a magnificent and stealthy climber ; he also started to get close to (Y/N) and they decided to team up. The change of attitude shocked Haymitch but since (Y/N) was much more calm and focused, he didn't put too much thought into it.

The District 12 mentor stared at the bright screen in front of him and watched how (Y/N) was sound asleep. The last 3 hours had been pretty dull on their part of the prefabricated habitat : he had gone out to collect some wood and after he had returned, he lit a fire and offered to watch out for any intruders while she slept.

Suddenly, Haymitch noticed how the young male had started pacing back and forth in a nervous manner. His instinct of suspecting of everything anyone does kicked in very quickly. The tribute started sobbing heavily as he wielded the dagger he had managed to obtain from the cornucopia a few days earlier. His shaky hands lifted the weapon in the air and, with all the strength the teenager possessed, he stabbed her.

The blade of his dagger penetrated her back with disturbing ease. He felt as if someone had put him on autopilot and, despite (Y/N) turning to feebly try to defend herself from the unexpected attack, he kept her still against the cold ground and continued to inflict the fatal wounds.

Her shuddering screams reached her assailant's ears like a distant echo. On the television, however, (Y/N)'s last words were perfectly understandable. His name. She was screaming his name. Haymitch couldn't quite detect whether the screams were a conscious call as a hurried form of farewell or a primal instinct in search of comfort triggered by a delusional pain that caused her to abandon all logic or coherent thought. If he had to bet, he would go for the second option, considering how quickly she was bleeding to death and the panicked expression on her face as she realized her life was rapidly coming to an end.

The stabs were becoming significantly weaker and that could only mean that the adrenaline rush that had originally enabled him to act in favor of his secret plan had slowly faded, only to leave him stranded in the tragic reality he had created. The screams stopped quite quickly, as she was choking on her own blood. The lack of cries caught the attention of the aggressor, who looked down and saw how (Y/N) breathed out for the last time. His shirt was a crimson mess. However, nothing could compare with the bloody puddle that was coming out of her body.

Leaving no time to mourn or process the scene in front of him, the Careers appeared and found the violent scene already over. Without an ounce of remorse or repulse, one of the District 1 tributes made their way towards the paralyzed teen and the corpse.

“There’s no time to waste. Give us her supplies, we’ll take them to our hidden spot in the skirts of the mountain. Meanwhile, you must go to the Cornucopia and bring some more food and weapons. You’ll join us later” The commanding voice of the male tribute intimidated the boy from 12 who obediently began to hand them what used to be (Y/N)’s : the matching axes, the food she had collected and had determined to be safe to consume, the medicine that was supposed to help her heal from the bites of the venomous creature.

Haymitch beheld the horrific scene shown on the gigantic TV totally disassociated from reality ; he couldn’t move but the uneasiness crawling up his skin created a tight and uncomfortable feeling that he urgently needed to shake off. How could the boy be so stupid, so naive ? The Careers would kill him after he had completed the tasks they had ordered him to do; he was just a pawn in their master plan to win that hellish competition.

The camera pointed towards the interior of the cave where the body of the young woman laid still. Haymitch could barely recognize the corpse; that could not be the girl that brought light back to his life after living in the dark for so long or the young adult who respected him but also held him accountable when he messed up. No, that was not her. His brain could not assimilate the idea of her dying in such a vile and miserable way. That scum, poor excuse of a man would regret breaking his word, backstabbing his daughter like only a coward would.

He wished him a slow, painful and sanguinolent death. Actually, he wished he could have entered that damned Arena and done the job himself ; if you want something done right do it yourself, right? After a couple of seconds, the sound of the canyon and the image of (Y/N) projected in the sky appeared on the TV and as fast as they came, they disappeared from the screens, moving on to something much more entertaining for the expecting audience.

He quickly excused himself from the room before anyone could begin to notice the grief in his expression. In the quietness of his private room, he started wailing and throwing everything in his way around, tearing all his belongings to pieces as a way to channelize his pain. After a while, he stopped only to approach the drinks cabinet provided by the generous Capitol, and he poured himself one of the many drinks he would have that night and the days to follow.

His heart began to develop another stone wall around itself, but this time it would never ever be destroyed, not like (Y/N) had managed to all those years ago. This time he would drown all his sorrow and any kind of emotion in all the types of liquors he could find. He would close himself to the world ; nobody would carve him open again, nobody would get so close to the real version of himself. He vowed then and there to abandon all hope and just let the years go by until the arrival of his final day.

He exited the room only to sit on the balcony floor. While staring at the night sky, he felt a tear rolling down his left cheek ; after releasing a shaky breath, he raised the glass that contained his numbing remedy and murmured :

" 'till we meet again, sweetheart"

#oweninadaydream #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games fanfiction #haymitch abernathy #haymitch x reader #haymitch abernathy x reader #female reader #fem!reader #the hunger games imagine

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