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#District thirteen
harienmasse · 1 year
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ilguna · 1 year
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District Thirteen, Shapeshifter.
excused from the games because of their human appearance, the shapeshifters are lucky they’re locked in a bunker away from the carnage. impersonation and playing pretend are not outrageous ideas that they’re too old to be using.
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-> Laveene Lily <-
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-> Brier Luna <-
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quotesfromall · 2 years
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But it is not just in the history books or in the fictional world of Panem that nuclear power plays a larger role. Today, most developed nations have nuclear weapons. Although there have been moves to reduce their numbers, no country feels secure enough to disarm completely, because as long as they have at least a few weapons, they act as a deterrent to other countries that might attack.
Caroline Carpenter, Guide to the Hunger Games
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thatcherxblight · 5 months
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Blight-Latier quarters || with Beetee Latier @fatefought
He wasn't sure if it had been an intentional choice by Thirteen or simple luck of the draw ( unusual for him if that were the case ) that his initial assignment had been for a room just for him and Lennox, but either way it had been a welcome discovery. The adjustment from their life split between Seven and the Capitol hadn’t quite gone smoothly but there were times he thought his nephew was taking to it with far more ease than he was. Still, he felt as though having that private space for the two of them for the first weeks had perhaps made the whole thing a little easier on them. 
It wasn’t to last though, as so few things in his life were, and not long after he heard word that the rescue mission was a success, the room reassignment came through. With Lennox at school it gave him the opportunity to find where this new room was as well as get to know their new roommate. He was busy figuring out if there was any way to move the limited furniture to make it feel more like a home when the door opened behind him. "So you're the one who drew the short straw?" Words are light, vague smile sent the way of his fellow victor, before he continues in an attempt to soothe any misgivings that the other man might have about suddenly rooming with a child. "He's a very well behaved five year old, I promise. If anything I could be the one to give you trouble."
He’d never been a man who felt much lightness, the world always weighing to heavily on his shoulders for that, but he’d always at least attempted to feign some. But now he feels almost leaden and it’s trepidation keeps him firmly rooted this time. Words had never been a thing he’d had any kind of ease with so it’s no surprise that he can’t find any good ones now ( he’d never been able to find them with Beetee and so perhaps it’s all those unsaid things that he feels pulling and pushing him downward ) despite how much he wanted to. So he settled for neutrality, motioning to the space around them. “I’ll let you take first pick, if you want. I was just trying to figure out whether it was worth moving anything around.”
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aspenxbarros · 7 months
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Thirteen Kitchens || @caelmellark
The adjustment to life in Thirteen had become slightly easier once she had something to fill her time, her hours now mostly spent keeping her hands busy with some kind of mechanics. Feeling useful outside of playing at emotional support. But even though she had settled slightly Aspen still found her nights were restless despite the weariness that she felt. Not wanting to keep her roommate up with her tossing and turning she'd slipped out as silently as she could, going in search of the one person she knew would manage to quiet her mind without even trying. His schedule was as familiar to her as her own so she knew exactly where to start. As she quietly padded through the kitchen towards him, she cleared her throat slightly to announce her presence. "I'm guessing that even if I ask really nicely a midnight snack is off the table?" Tone was light and innocent, eyes widening pleadingly in a way she knew he'd struggle to say no to. Perhaps it was a little unfair when she suspected the obstacle would be on the end of Thirteen and their strict rules on provisions as opposed to her friend's willingness. But food hadn't been the purpose of her visit, his company was, and a little teasing provided the lightening of her mood that she so desperately needed.
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rainworldbloodsport · 9 months
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Boris! (Or it's full name: Hunter of Thirteen Pillars, Forsaken Borealis)
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About it:
He's just a friendly lil dude! They're a good hunter but prefer to avoid conflict and violence altogether, it's fairly young having only reached adulthood recently.
You have been added to the roster! You are in District 9 with The Atlatl.
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esmexsilverhorn · 7 months
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Outside Yazmine's room || || with Yazmin Silverhorn @fatefought
Esme had spent her first few weeks in Thirteen feeling lonely and lost. Missing the familiarity that came with Six. The people she knew, the places that she knew like the back of her hand. It was home and when she had made the decision to join the rebellion wholeheartedly, she hadn't quite been prepared for how homesick she would be. Except home wasn't simply a place to her, it had been her family too - most importantly Amara was her sense of home. But with her sister is far out of her reach she found herself looking for someone else to hold onto. Her sister in law might have seemed like the most obvious choice but other than their conversation when they were reunited, their interactions had been brief as they consistently seemed to miss one another. Esme had been content to give Yazmin her space, knowing that she could be guilty of trying a bit too hard to win people's affection and not wanting to smoother the other woman, but she felt like there was no one else who'd understand missing Amara better.
She'd stood awkwardly outside Yazmin's door, trying to summon the courage to knock when the sound of footsteps altered her to her sister-in-law approaching down the corridor. "Sorry to kind of stake out your doorway. I just didn't really know where else to find you - I don't know your schedule and this place is still such a maze to me." Apologetic words flow quickly from her lips and before she lose her nerve Esme is continuing, barely taking a breath in between. "Speaking of schedules though, I won't keep you long if you're needed elsewhere. I was just wondering if we could maybe find some times to spend together?" Her hesitance doesn't come from anything but her own self consciousness, worried that she'll put Yazmin in an awkward position or worse, guilt her into something she'd rather not do.
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cogentranting · 2 years
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Tick tock it's a clock and Taylor's gonna trap us in an arena.
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thevultur · 2 years
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Naturally, he was curious about District Thirteen, even though they were only at the training stage and there wasn’t much to see. And so he approached Everett, a fairly friendly face, if he could call him that. “How is the new district holding up?” he asked, not just about the tributes, rather than the whole team. “It’s getting a little crowded, isn’t it?”
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@everettlance​
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calofhearting · 4 months
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[Interrogation] You have regular sided with The Capitol and their totalitarian regime. What's to say that the Rebel forces could possibly trust someone like you? Your complicity with terror and murder speaks volumes.
It hadn't been that long ago that Calista had been taken into a Capitol interrogation room where she spent hours being asked questions about the Rebels. Questions that she had had no answer to because she had known nothing about them. The interrogators had realized very quickly that Calista knew nothing and was innocent and she was let go.
Calista knew that this time would be different. She had spent the past few days locked away in a cell in District Thirteen. How had this happened to her? How had things turned out like this?
"I wasn't...I wasn't complicit," she protested, her voice soft. But deep down she knew how it could look like that. "I didn't have a choice... I was scared. I was stranded in the Capitol and I didn't know what to do. I didn't want anything to happen to my family!"
But what would happen to her family now that she was in Thirteen? Would President Snow kill them? Did Domi think she had gone willingly? That she had been a secret rebel this whole time? The thought terrified her. She already lost Cato, and as complicated as her relationship with her family was she didn't want something bad to happen to them.
"I don't know how to answer that. I don't...I didn't do anything wrong. I just was trying to protect myself and my family. I'm not...I'm not asking you to trust me. Just let me go back home to Two. I promise I won't do anything. I won't say anything. Just let me go be with my family. Please."
Let's talk about your family. Your brother was taken from you cruelly, and yet you spent the last few months gallivanting around The Capitol. Why is that?
Calista had no answer for that. Hadn't she felt guilt every time she enjoyed something in the Capitol? Hadn't being in the Capitol been a reminder that her brother was dead and it was all the Games fault? Well, also Clove's, but she didn't say that part out loud.
She had been trying so hard to forget what had happened. Calista knew she would never forget her brother, she didn't want to forget him, but she wanted to forget the way that she felt about it. Calista just wanted things to go back to normal. But they couldn't go back to normal.
Things were never going to go back to normal.
"I don't know," she whispered. "You have to understand...I didn't know what else to do. I was stuck there. I was scared. I didn't want to die like my brother. I didn't want something bad to happen to my parents. I thought it would be easier to go along with it...I thought...I thought that I was doing the right thing. It was a mistake."
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manmilkers · 10 months
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Writers never know what's important in their own world. Like, they'll drop a detail that completely shifts the entire understanding of their established worldbuilding and never expound on it. Like, what do you mean theres a clan of giant magical dogpeople within walking distance of this story???
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etfrin · 4 months
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❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞
ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ꜱɴᴏᴡ
series by etfrin | not to be post anywhere without permission!
coriolanus snow x fem! reader
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snow lands on top
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series taglist | series playlist | navigation
about: coriolanus snow refuses to have a district girl (albeit grown up in the capitol) as his soulmate. it's humiliating and below his status. and so with the 10th annual Hunger Games begins creating the utter most chaos in his life and makes him face everything he had ignored! (movie compliant)
note: some dialogue and paragraphs are taken from the book [the hunger games: the ballad of songbirds and snakes]
I do not own any of the hunger games characters or original stories, only the plot of this fanfic.
cross-posted on ao3
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prologue !
chapter one !
chapter two !
chapter three !
chapter four !
chapter five ! part one | chapter five ! part two
chapter six !
chapter seven !
chapter eight !
chapter nine !
chapter ten !
chapter eleven !
chapter twelve !
chapter thirteen !
chapter fourteen !
chapter fifteen !
chapter sixteen !
chapter seventeen !
chapter eighteen !
chapter nineteen !
chapter twenty !
chapter twenty-one !
chapter twenty-two !
chapter twenty-three !
chapter twenty- four !
THE END . . .
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wife-of-all-dilfs · 6 months
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flower therapy | f. odair
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masterlist
summary: after being rescued from the capitol’s torturous clutches, your boyfriend, finnick odair, assists you with recovering from haunting memories and ptsd.
pairing: finnick odair x reader
warnings: finnick being major boyfriend material, soft reader, mentions of torture, ptsd, panic attack, hurt/comfort, fluff
notes: the way i lowkey triggered myself into a panic attack while writing this?? i’m okay now though 😀
word count: 1.3k
Post-traumatic stress mental rehabilitation. That is what the psychiatric doctors of District Thirteen suggested after you were rescued from being captured and tortured in the Capitol. Their methods sounded daunting and all too familiar—sterile white rooms, memory flash cards, persistent strangers who would force you to relive your trauma so you could 'work through it'.
Finnick did not like the sound of that one bit. So, he offered an alternative.
Post-traumatic stress mental rehabilitation. The label was a mouthful. Finnick preferred to call it "flower therapy". Twice a week, you and Finnick were authorised to spend two hours above ground where you would sit in a nearby meadow, make daisy chains, and occasionally open up about what happened in the Capitol.
You liked to call it "the power of flowers". Stupid, but saying it always formed a little smile on your face and there was no harm in simple joy considering the cruelties you had endured. Most of the time, you were silent and would lie in Finnick's arms while making flower crowns. He was always patient; he understood you needed time. Day after day, he proved his unconditional love, and you thanked the universe for blessing you with such an incredible man.
"Oh no," you whispered.
"What is it?"
You dangled your broken daisy chain in front of you and Finnick.
"Oh no," he echoed.
Your back rested against his chest and his arms enveloped your body as he held his own effortlessly crafted yellow chain in your lap. Apparently, years of weaving fishing nets creates a master of making daisy chains.
"Here," he said, positioning his own flower crown on your head. "Beautiful."
Smiling, you turned your head to face him. "I'm going to tell everyone I made it."
The flowers sat like a golden halo atop your head, beaming just as bright as the smile Finnick had bloomed at the sight of you. Beauty was everything that you were; not just outwardly, but within the confines of your mind too. Flowers and sunlight were interwoven with your soul, making up the essence of who you were—loving and warm-hearted. One of the many reasons Finnick had fallen in love with you.
He would forever want to remain in your garden, tending to and protecting every petal that blossomed.
His thumb swiped affectionately across your cheek. "Of course you are, you thief," he murmured, grinning. "You owe me."
Your stomach flooded with butterflies and you leaned in, tenderly kissing him with soft pink lips. Finnick cupped your cheek, stroking the baby hairs of your hairline with his fingers as he smiled against your mouth. Even your lips tasted like sweet nectar to him.
After you pulled away, you settled back into his embrace, sinking into those arms that shielded you from any and all harm.
"Okay, I suppose you're forgiven," Finnick said, the smile present in his voice.
You toyed with his fingers while wearing a glowing smile of your own, his arms lovingly wrapped around your body. Oh, you loved him so endlessly.
As the sun began to lower, a mixture of orange and pink clouds blanketed the sky. The trees surrounding the meadow cast large shadows throughout the area, making it appear much darker than it really was. A subtle shift in the once tranquil atmosphere rippled through the meadow, happiness now becoming a distant and unreachable feeling.
The broken daisy chain crumpled in your hands no longer shined in the sun like a beautiful mess. It instead looked tangled. Chaotic. Darkened by the dimming light and transformed into something sinister that resurfaced haunting memories of the Capitol—twisted IV tubes filled with unknown substances, chains that removed layers of skin, decaying white roses that covered the floor of your cell.
Heaviness clutched at your heart, suffocating you from within.
Finnick sensed the sudden shift, loosening his hold around you as he whispered, "What's wrong?"
"I—I don't know," you stammered, the air thinning around you.
The wilting daisies started to taint your hands with darkness, creeping slowly up your arms and causing them to tremble. Finnick, who noticed your fixation on the daisy chain, gently took the flowers from your grasp and set them aside.
It was too late; the panic had already set in.
He turned your body to the side in his lap, forcing you to face him. Your eyes flickered with worry. No amount of pain could compare to the heartbreak he felt seeing you like this.
"Hey. Hey, look at me," he urged, his tone soothing. "Breathe with me, alright? In..." He inhaled deeply through his nose. "And out."
But it was no use. Air was caged within your lungs, burning like fiery hot whirlwinds inside your chest. It was all you could do to force rapid shallow breaths out of your mouth.
"No, no!" A tear fell from your eye as you fervently shook your head. "Finn, I ca—I can't."
"Yes, you can, baby," he said, pushing aside the hair that obscured your vision. His eyes searched the area, looking for anything that could help distract your frantic mind. That is when he spotted a small flock of birds perched on one of the tree branches, instantly recognising their black feathers and sharp beaks. "Look. See those birds? They're mockingjays."
Finnick pointed up at the tree, gaining your attention which then shifted to the birds that were gawking down at you with curious tilting heads. Mockingjays. Katniss. Rebellion. Hope. You focused all your attention on the little black birds and listened to Finnick's reassuring voice.
"They'll repeat any tune you make," he continued, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. "Can you do that for me? Try and whistle something for them?"
Attempting to control your ragged breathing, you jerkily nodded. Songs from the world before the war overtook your mind. At first, it was overwhelming as your mind scrambled for a suitable melody, fuelling your panicked state. But then you heard something familiar and focused on the familiar tune, one that was from your childhood.
Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,
Go to sleep, my little baby,
When you wake you shall have,
All the pretty little horses.
It was a lullaby your mother sang whenever you were upset. Seemed fitting considering the situation. You managed to whistle the first few notes, albeit a little wobbly of course, hardly noticing the air that was starting to flow more freely into your lungs.
"That's it, sweet girl."
Once the mockingjays began echoing the song throughout the forest—far more beautifully than your broken whistles—you continued the melody until the end. When you finished, the birds continued to repeat the tune, singing your mother's lullaby over and over in the trees of District Thirteen.
Whilst sat cradled in Finnick's embrace, you quietly hummed along as he stroked soft patterns on your arm. Darkness and pain were long forgotten now. Your body no longer trembled with fear nor did your breathing. Memories of the Capitol's brutality were locked away and hidden in the back of your mind, diligently guarded by the man whose arms you lay in.
Golden beams filtered through the tree trunks; the sun was now lowered enough to let the warm light in, illuminating both you and Finnick. He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, wrapping you up even tighter in his arms now that he was certain the worst had passed.
You clutched onto his arm and blew out a final stabilising breath, finding comfort in the strength and protection he held. The side of your head rested against his chest, the beats of his heart harmonising like a drum with the mockingjays' song.
You wanted to apologise but knew his response would be dismissive. You wanted to tell him how deeply you loved and appreciated him but knew your words would fail you.
So, you remained silent.
"You're safe," Finnick whispered into your hair. "Right here, right now. I promise."
Right here, right now, you repeated in your mind. In Finnick's arms, you were safe. You were loved.
tags: @tayrae515
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thatcherxblight · 4 months
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Thirteen Cafeteria || with Finnick Odair @seasaltsurvivor
Mealtimes in Thirteen were never a quiet affair but he'd begun to get used to the endless noise around him as he ate. Today though, there was a different kind of disturbance begging for his attention as his fellow Victor sat just down the table from him with an unsettled toddler. Eyes were usually kept to himself, never one to pry ( so much so that his newfound role within the propo team at times left him feeling uncomfortable, his fellow victors to lay themselves bare ) but the toddler's fussing was too much for him to ignore. It wasn't that the youngster was being too loud or even remotely annoying, it was that the sound was so familiar to him. It wasn't all that long ago that it might have been Lennox refusing to settle and he was the stressed and distressed adult fighting to soothe the tantrum. It felt like it had just been last week though thankfully his nephew had grown out of it for the most part.
There was indecision within him as green eyes fought not to be drawn back to the scene, knowing that when it had been him in that position the last thing he'd wanted was an audience. So he'd kept his gaze to himself, continuing his meal and leaving Finnick to continue with his as best he could. That plan worked for a few minutes as he almost zoned out, for once choosing to allow himself to get lost in thought if it meant he wasn't tempted to stare. But the toddler seemed to have other ideas as a spoon came hurtling towards him, connecting with his arm and tugging him back into reality. Knowing all too well the horror that the other man must be feeling, Thatcher is quick to hold up his hands to reassure. "It's fine, I'm fine." The quick words felt too dismissive and so he finds himself offering a wry half smile. "Len's done worse, I promise."
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aspenxbarros · 8 months
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Near the medical ward || Day 25 of the Rebellion || with Yazmin Silverhorn @fatefought
It'd hadn't taken her long to fall back oh so easily back into old ways, taken it upon herself to be there for others just the same way that she and her family had in Twelve. While she would never have it any other way - the Barros blood flowed too strongly in her veins for her to ever want anything else - there was no denying that it was mentally and emotionally exhausting. There was only so long she could continue to put off her own needs, especially when her own nights were becoming sleepless with an increasing frequency. Her mother and uncle had always warned her that she had to take care of herself before she could properly take care of another. Despite her desire to continually put others above herself, she'd always seen the logic in it and knew that she would hardly be of use to anyone if she was barely functioning.
But while it was always so easy for her to hold out a hand to others, she was always be reluctant to take their helping hands. She knew that she could go to her mother or cousin but they were just as busy as she was and there were only so many hours Cael could give her. Something needed to give though and that was how after yet another night where she'd spent too many hours tossing and turning, Aspen had found herself heading towards the medical bay. Only she found herself hesitating outside when she still felt as though she would just be taking attention from those who needed it more. The sound of footsteps made her start slightly when she hadn't been expecting anyone else at that hour but she smiles when she sees a face she recognised.
She'd like Yazmin the few times they'd met and so it wasn't through lack of trust but rather out of habit she can't help but downplay her situation. "I feel like I'm becoming nocturnal - you a night owl too?" Words are said lightly hoping if she added some levity it might steer them into other topics long enough for her to gather her will to go in.
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leviathanspain · 5 months
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Hey could you write a Finnick odair / reader where snow forces them to pretend to date like he did with katniss and peeta? The whole convince him and get married as a distraction thing? Thanks :)
the pretender
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finnick odair x reader
synopsis: being reaped from the victor’s pool changed your life in more ways than you imagined
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you were his favorite girl.
girl. you were a girl when you had been reaped, a girl when your feet stepped off the platform, more shocked that you didn’t immediately blow up into bits. a girl when you had committed your first kill. you remembered the sound of your knife slicing into human flesh for the first time. the ringing in your ears had become permanent after you had been too close to the explosion that had killed half of the tributes. an explosion that you had accidentally caused.
your rebellious spirit was fun at first, for the capital to laugh and delight in, until you stopped using the scripts that they had written for you, and tried to destroy the idea of the girl in their minds.
snow subdued you, tried to barter your family’s life with cooperation. unbeknownst to him, you hadn’t seen your family in years since they had abandoned you, for fighting against your father’s abuse.
“kill them. do whatever you want to them. just leave me alone.” your own words haunted you since the day snow had presented evidence of their murders. you didn’t dare flinch in his presence, holding a strong facade that you didn’t care, that they were beneath you.
as he left, irritated at your refusal to comply, letting ideas stir in his head with what to do with you, you broke down. tears shed as you realized that they were gone because of you, because you couldn’t let your anger go.
but snow liked you, he must’ve had a reason to keep you around for so long, and until just a few days ago, you hadn’t known why.
you breathed deeply as you heard your name called. it was deja vu, and suddenly you were back to the thirteen year old girl, who was so emaciated and starved that when her name was called, she believed she was hallucinating.
you looked crudely into the screen, not offering any smiles or sign of pride that you had been reaped, all over again.
“y/n l/n.” hearing your full name made you turn around immediately. you were slightly blinded by his blonde hair and pearly white smile.
“finnick odair.” you realized who the man was, quicker than you’d admit. the last time you had seen him was at a ridiculous capital party that snow had forced you to attend. finnick had been leaned against a wall, with two capital sluts hanging onto his shoulders, whispering in his ears simultaneously.
he smiled, not surprised that you didn’t say anything else besides his name. you had that tendency about you, to shoot down any attempt at conversation. even going as far to avoid it all together. “i’m glad you haven’t tried to run away, not after i had caught you eyes and you dashed off at that party. how long ago was that? three,” his speech hung onto the words, “four?”
“five months. it’s been five months, finnick.” you remembered his gaze, and remembered how your feet made you run at the sight. you had heard stories about finnick, and you weren’t exactly planning on ever talking to him.
“that’s right.” he smiled, “i hope you’ve been well since then. it was nice seeing you in something other than a bloody shirt.” his gaze suddenly seemed very far away, as if he was remembering exactly what you wore that night.
you shrugged, deciding to change topics, “everyone else is polishing their weapons,” you heard a guttural war cry, and saw another tribute lunge at a partner, “and methods.” finnick turned to the source of the cry and laughed slightly, “oh yeah? what’s your choice of weapon, again?”
“knives. anything long and sharp.” you always had an affinity for knives. it was second nature to you, an art of your district. your mind drifted away slightly to the array of knives that you had collected during your games. every tribute that you had slaughtered had a knife, and you collected them as a token. by the end, you had 23 knives, all representing a kill.
it had been upsetting when you went on your victory tour, to see the look on their family’s faces, but you had blurred out their emotions, and at the height of your submission to snow, had given out the same apathetic speech to every district.
finnick watched as your mind drifted back to reality. wherever you had gone for the better half of a minute, was a place finnick spent every waking moment, running away from.
he grabbed your shoulder, squeezing it slightly as he looked into your eyes, whispering your name, “hey, hey.” you focused on his eyes, gaze shifting to his mouth as they shaped the syllables of your name. you swallowed thickly, “im sorry-i…” you pulled away, his hand falling free of your shoulder. finnick watched as you exited the training room, your hands balled up into fists as you disappeared through the doorway.
“absolutely not.” you had spent your childhood under the thumb of one man, and you had barely made it out from under snow’s. this was only another way to get you under it once more.
finnick had his head bowed, having listened to snow’s pitch to make the two of you a couple. he needed something to distract the capital citizens from peeta and katniss, who everyone knew, was just a thorn in snow’s side.
“my dear, i really don’t think you have a choice in the matter.” snow’s eyes narrowed at you and you sighed, “what else is there left for you to do? im already being marched to my death, again, just speed the process up. poison me like you do the rest.” you took a good jab at one of the many secrets you had obtained, living in his cage.
snow laughed, “i would’ve done that a long time ago, y/n.”
just as you were beginning to argue again, finnick looked up, eyes catching yours. he held your gaze for a minute, blinking his wet eyes at you. there was something that was telling you that this wasn’t just about you.
finnick.
oh how could you forget finnick.
there was something clearly at stake for him too, otherwise why had he remained silent this entire time?
compliance was something he had to get used to, also under snow’s control.
“okay, fine.” you felt yourself swallow bile, “i’ll do it.” you looked at finnick, your future husband, and the reason why you were even agreeing.
“why did you do it?” his voice cracked, a raw noise as he looked over at you. you had been silent the whole time since leaving the meeting with snow. you shuddered with the strong winds, having been sat out on the stoop of the building, housing all the reaped former victors.
you looked at finnick, having caught his gaze, holding it for a moment, “my entire life i’ve been selfish, and i guess i realized that it isn’t always about putting myself first.” you knew the stories, heard the rumors. snow had barely played with the idea, making you like finnick, but you had always refused. there was nothing left for him to leverage, and so it never went anywhere.
but this, pairing the two of you was nothing short of cruel. finnick who has everything to lose, with you, who he probably didn’t expect to agree.
finnick hitched a breath, understanding what you weren’t saying. “thank you.” he breathed, “and im sorry.”
you stood up suddenly, nodding as you turned towards the entrance, “just-“ you cut yourself off, waving a hand as you continued inside.
he made the announcement. finnick had decided that with the pull he has on the capital, that he would be the one to do it. especially since he was so beloved, the attention from it was to challenge katniss and peeta’s.
you had agreed to play the part, and now you had to act like it.
there was loud cheering and applause from the crowd, and you were pushed out onto the stage, more cheers erupting as finnick stood up to meet you halfway. you kissed his cheek, grabbing his hand tightly as you two fluttered across the stage.
caesar flickerman was already standing there with a bright, capitol smile. “this is your lovely bride. we hear the honeymoon is the arena?” he looked at finnick who tipped his head back for a laugh, but didn’t answer outright.
you gave a soft laugh, “we just loved each other so much, we couldn’t wait.”
caesar looked at you, as if remembering who you were exactly, “wow.” he seemed truly amazed, perhaps even shocked.
finnick noticed the heaviness in the interview and turned his head at caesar, trying to keep the attention on the union rather than the individuals.
he grabbed your hand suddenly, clutching it tightly. as he held it for the rest of the interview, you staring at the faces in the crowd, more love struck than you, you wondered if he was trying to comfort you or himself.
“finnick.” you looked around behind you, only seeing peeta in front of you. the first few days in the arena had been a blur. you had stuck by close with finnick, who made it his mission to stay close to katniss. there was something he wasn’t telling you, but you didn’t once doubt him.
“finnick?” you whipped your head around and couldn’t find him. you were always in front of him, so he could remain in his eye line at all times. except you had failed to make sure he was in yours.
your ears started ringing as the panic set in. you scanned the trees and couldn’t find any sign of him or katniss, realizing this as peeta shared your same panicked look. your throat felt tight as you screamed his name, “finnick!” peeta suddenly took off, feet blazing towards more greenery. you had no choice but to follow, knowing finnick would’ve had you stick with peeta.
as you barely caught up to peeta, you saw him hit the floor as you ran up. whatever he had bounced off of was holding katniss and finnick back.
you looked at finnick, unable to catch his eyes as he looked up frantically. there was something you were missing, there were just bir-
“jabberjays.” peeta groaned out, “they can’t hear us, but they hear our screams.” he swallowed thickly, resting near the force field. katniss was knelt down at the edge, eyes tightly shut. you stared at finnick, at a loss for words. the panic in his face looked so real, you wondered who he was hearing.
you tore your eyes away, watching him suffer was not something you had signed up for. you felt defeated, unable to do anything as you and peeta sat like sitting ducks, waiting this torture out.
you hadn’t talked to him since the jabberjays. peeta had comforted katniss, in any way she’d let him. but they were different, you and finnick were different.
yes, you were married, he was your husband. but the issue was, you hadn’t much time to even begin to share intimate details, let alone have a good conversation. this was what snow wanted, an empty marriage to stir up all the attention.
except you knew your performance was failing. the audience could see right through you.
“hey.” finnick had snuck up on you. you had stayed a few feet away from him and the others, unsure how to handle it all. but it seems like finnick was trying to make it work. but it should be the other way around.
“finnick.” you breathed a sigh of relief unintentionally, hoping he didn’t catch on, you watched as he sat down on the sand beside you. he grabbed your hand, and for a moment you thought it to be genuine, until he raised an eyebrow.
right.
“i’m so sorry.” your voice hitched, and finnick steadied his gaze, “seeing you like that-“ you faked a choked sob, “i just couldn’t do it. i couldn’t look at you and see-“ you cut yourself off, throwing your head in your hands.
snow had to be happy that you were selling yourself off to protect finnick. but beside that heart to heart you had with him in the beginning, you had nothing else to go off of.
“i heard you.” finnick’s voice cracked, “you were screaming, these terrible, horrible screams.” he shook his head, as if he were hearing them all over again, making you realize that he was telling the truth. “and it wouldn’t stop.” he breathed. his breathing got harder and you found yourself kissing him to make him stop. finnick panted into the kiss, as if you had grounded him. you pulled back, catching his eye as you looked away.
your hand that he had been holding gripped his harder. you looked out into the water, watching as it’s dangerous waters moved, unsure on how you would survive this.
with or without him.
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