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asmileyoucouldbottle · 4 years

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Found - Odesta

"Did you love Annie right away, Finnick?" I ask. "No," A long time passes before he adds "She crept up on me." Pre-trilogy, Odesta. Mostly fluff.

TRIGGER WARNINGS! - panic attacks, mentions of r*pe (nothing detailed or explicit)

Word Count- 2561

~*~

There she was again. The red-haired woman everyone said was mad. She didn’t look particularly crazy, laughing as she splashed in the surf with the neighborhood children. But Finnick knew a thing or two about madness. It sneaks up on you, and you don’t see the memories coming until they’re there.

The woman dunked underwater, and reappeared in a wave that drenched all three of the children. One of the kids fell over giggling, and the other two continued to play.

A slight turn of her head, and the woman caught Finnick staring. Her smile widened as if they had just shared a private joke, and Finnick ducked his head. He was surprised to find his own lips curling up.

Swinging a net over his shoulder, Finnick walked over to the woman and children.“Would you mind helping me?”

The children hopped up immediately to grab the two wooden poles on either end of the long bait net. The woman stood opposite of him, and he could see the laughter still flickering in her eyes, as well as slight shyness.

“My name’s Annie.”

He smiled, and nodded in turn. “I’m Finnick.”

The group stepped to the side, dragging the net along as they went. Finnick could already see the little bait fish getting towed along against the net.

Annie paused while Finnick and his side continued, making a rotation around her until the net made a C. From there, they dragged it back towards shore. The dance was as natural to Finnick as breathing, and he felt peace in familiarity wash over him. Every brief respite from the Capitol was a blessing, and he’d just arrived home yesterday morning.

They brought the net up to shore, and the children squealed as the minnows and other little fish began to try and jump from the net. Annie ran to get a bucket, which they promptly emptied the contents of the net into.

Finnick noticed a Peacekeeper glaring at him out of the corner of his eye, watching to make sure he didn’t steal the bait. He picked up the bucket, and began to haul it in the direction of the Peacekeepers. “It was nice to meet you.” Finnick’s words were sincere, and carried a weight that the overused formalities rarely held. Annie waved as he left.

He was intrigued by her, this woman like him, and he wasn’t sure they were so different.

~*~

It was the day of the Hunger Games tour, and earlier the winner of this year’s games had given their speech. Now was the “partying,” where the whole town was in the main square “celebrating” the Hunger Games for the cameras.

Finnick caught a glance of Annie, her eyes vacant and hand twisting her hair.

“Annie?” At the sound of his words, she turned her empty eyes on him. “It’s very loud.” She murmured, eyes seeking Finnicks own. His heart panged as it related painfully. He knew all too well how triggering loud noises could be, and on a day such as today- a day completely dedicated to The Hunger Games, he'd had his own share of flashbacks.

“Maybe we should get a breath of fresh air.”

Annie nodded, and Finnick took her hand and led her out the door. Her eyes were frantically darting, and he took them to a dock just outside the square. No one noticed them leaving the crowds. Sitting down, he took off his shoes and put his feet in the water. Annie followed him, and the water seemed to soothe her. Yet, one hand continued to stay on her ear, even though the only noises came from fishing boats in the distance.

“Hey.” Finnick touched Annie’s hand gently, and she looked at him. Her eyes focused on his, as if trying to bore holes. Or maybe climb out of one. He didn’t break the contact. “You’re in District 4, and the water on your feet is from the bay.” She nodded, feet wiggling in the water.

“District 4.” She repeated to herself, gaze moving to her toes as she grasped for footholes out of her mind.

Finnick continued to talk about District 4, all its features, and the land around him. Every word seemed like a wedge in a cliff, a little ledge that she used to pull herself up, bit by bit. Even the flashing light of the Peacekeeper watchtower over the sea, which was always a point of anger and anxiety for Finnick, seemed to be helping.

Once the light had fully returned to her eyes, Annie half collapsed on Finnick’s shoulder, as if the effort had exhausted her.

”Thank you.” She whispered.

“Of course,” They looked out at the water, trying to find peace with the marching of Peacekeepers, the barbed wire fences, and memories threatening to drown them.

~*~

Finnick awoke, gasping. He shivered at the sensation of hands roaming all over, his body not feeling like it belonged to him.

Breathing heavily, Finnick tore back the sheets, blindly fumbling out of his room. Blinded by a rising panic as he started working himself into a frenzy, he ran to the beach right outside his house. Tearing off his shirt, Finnick jumped in the water without a second thought. The salt stung his eyes, and he began to rub himself down with sand, trying to clean off the fingerprints of hundreds of people who’d touched him over the years. His breathing and heart only quickened as the seconds dragged on, his skin raw with the friction of the sand. And yet, the fingerprints never went away.

“Finnick?” He looked up to see a silhouette in the light of the lighthouse. “Are you alright?”

No, he was definitely not alright.

Intending to dismiss her, he was surprised when the simple truth was pried out in a tight breath. “Not particularly.”

There was a beat, and Finnick let his handful of sand sink from his hold. A slight ripple, and he saw Annie coming to join him in the water. The moon outlined her frame, and her exposed shoulder only made him shudder. His vision of her kept being interrupted with images of other women, people he’d never learned the names of, and their faces were blurry in his memory. All that remained were their hands and the scars they left behind.

“It’s alright.” She said, forcing the images away. “it’s alright to be not alright.”

Something about the words made him choke out a breathy laugh.

“I’m glad that it’s okay that I’m having a meltdown.” The word meltdown echoed around his soul, the connotations raising a new round of battering. Words like coward and weak soon joined the symphony, and Finnick felt his self-control slipping.

“You don’t sound very convinced.” Annie commented. Finnick forced his mental downward spiral back as he tried to focus on her words.

She kept talking. “Right now, I’m fine. But sometimes, I’m not okay either. But that’s alright. We’re hurt, but that doesn’t make us lesser.”

A little bit of the frenzied knot began to loosen in his chest as words finally sunk in. The chorus belittling him receded, and he braced himself- expecting a new onslaught of phrases and the secrets of various lovers to fill the space.

Before his mind got the chance, Annie asked, “Would you like to know what I do when I’m upset?”

Finnick tried not to sound desperate when he responded, “what?”

“Follow me.” She led him out of the water, and the panic was delicately held at bay. Annie brought him to a pile of rope on the dock. She chopped a bit of it off using the sharp edge of the rusty ladder. Finnick watched, enraptured, as she began to tie knots. Any sailing teacher would’ve been proud as she filled the whole rope, untied, and repeated.

Once she’d finished her demonstration, Annie handed him the rope. Immediately, his fingers began their work. With each knot, his horror became more manageable, easier to put in the back of his mind as the burning of his fingers and endless lessons on knotting took the foreground.

~*~

The mayor was getting married, and he was throwing a huge party for the whole district to celebrate.

Finnick was more than content to sit by the refreshments and listen to the music. He’d had a fair amount of guests, man and woman alike, beg him to join them. With a charming smile and claim of exhaustion, he’d send them on their way.

“Would you like to dance?”

Finnick spun around, his signature smile already playing on his lips. At the sight of Annie, all deceptive charm vanished, and his lips melted into something real. Her own eyes were clear of all flirtations, and he felt that this must be what friendship is. No manipulations- just two people, everything laid at their feet.

“It would be my pleasure.”

The song was an old sea shanty, one that sang of a sailor and his lover reunited on land. The music resonated in their bones as the dancers clapped, stomped, twirled, and laughed. Finnick picked Annie up in a spin, and she showed off her footwork while prancing in a circle around him. The dance climaxed, and all he could see were the spins and motions. A brief catch of eyes there, a glimpse of her smile, the flash of her sea green dress. An unknown sensation built in the pit of his stomach as he felt her hands in his.

The downpour began all at once, with a loud crack of thunder and sudden sheets of water. The rain only brightened Annie’s face, and her laughter became fuller as the water clung her clothes to her skin and dripped off her nose.

Though their movements weren’t as light or graceful, the heart of the dance only grew as the pair became more and more soaked. The energy of the remaining crowd built up, the dampness only feeding the fire. With a final twirl, the song ended, and Finnick was left looking over shoulders to see where Annie had twirled off to.

~*~

There was something about her that drew in Finnick’s eyes everytime she was in his vicinity. At the market, fishing, on the street, everyone and everything dulled to the background.

He watched her exhibit kindness to the smallest of creatures, from bugs to the animals on the streets. More than once, Finnick had seen Annie scooping bees and beetles out of the water to dry on the jetty, rinsing off scraped knees of the street children, or slipping dogs little bits of fish. Her smile awaited him everywhere. Every one of her sunshine looks felt like a countdown, one that he could only imagine how it would end.

Many nights they’d find each other, distraughtly walking the beach. Wordlessly, they’d decide to go on together, often finding comfort simply in being in the presence of another who understands. He didn’t know exactly when they started holding hands along the way. It was a mutual agreement, a subconscious reach for the other. Their eyes hadn’t met, but the pressure of her hand intertwined in his stabilized both of them better than any line of rope.

~*~

Finnick didn’t know when he realized. He’d thought of it as a countdown, every little action pushing forward the timer in his heart. But what it really was, was a buildup. Every smile that was bolder than the last, every musical laugh, every knot he tied beside her, all collecting to tip the scales of her heart. The way she would hold him in moments of weakness, just as he held her. The peace of mind that came just from seeing her, and how she’d now take his hand in moments of excitement or happiness as well as fragility. Her ability to see the light of the world despite a darkness within and all around her.

They had been drawn together by mutual need. Need of understanding, need of comfort, need of true friendship. But if the flipping minnows in his stomach were any indication, Finnick wasn’t quite sure that ‘friends’ was a suitable enough word.

He never expected it. How could someone as broken as him fall in love?

The answer was simple. Annie had said it to him once, “we’re not broken, nor missing pieces. We’re still whole… just a little cracked.” From there, she’d intertwined her fingers with his. Finnick looked down and saw that seperated, the spaces between their fingers looked like cracks. But when they laced them together, the cracks were filled. They were still there, but less noticeable.

That’s how Finnick felt with Annie. He knew that no person or love could completely heal him, but it could help. It made the hurt less prominent, and replaced some of his dreariness with hope.

~*~

The sunset was brilliant, and Finnick could see Annie sitting on the dock outside his window. Her auburn hair was stunning in the golden light, and his breath caught. Not bothering to even put on sandals, he walked out to meet her.

She turned to see him as he walked down the dock, the light making her face glow. Something in him felt like it was filling at the sight of her. Even his view of patrolling boats on the sea wasn’t enough to damper his happiness. It was all he could do not to lift her up, twirl her around, and tell her everything he felt.

Actually, he hadn’t completely ruled it out yet.

“Annie…” He didn’t know how to continue, and she was watching him expectantly. Despite being the Capitol’s darling, he didn’t know the first thing about actually sharing his feelings when they were true. Never once had he been seductive around Annie, nor her to him.

It made no sense, yet here they were.

He reached down to take her hands, and pulled her up in front of him.

“You fill in my cracks.” He said finally.

Her eyebrows flickered briefly with surprise, but soon her face softened with a smile. “And you fill in mine.” She whispered, barely audible over the sound of waves. The moment was so heavy, Finnick could barely breathe.

He searched her eyes, longs poems he’d heard in the Capitol, he was anything but lost in their depths. Rather, he felt found.

Annie stepped towards him, and on tiptoe, rested her forehead against his. Finnick sighed, and she tilted up her face and pressed her lips to his sweetly. The kiss was over in a moment, and she was flat on her feet, face open as she waited for his reaction.

Something in his chest felt wild, and without hesitation, he picked her up and spun her around- just as he’d wanted to. She giggled, her hands stabilizing on Finnick’s shoulders. He laughed, holding her gaze as he set her down. A rush of emotion filled him, and he didn’t know how he could contain it all.

He leaned down and kissed her again, and she clung to his neck as he dipped her down. The sound of waves receded as his pounding heart filled his ears, and brought her back up to standing.

“I love you Finn.” She looked up at him, bashful yet bold. Finnick beamed at her, and brushed her nose with his own. “And I love you.”

Capitol be damned- he’d found love just where he was.

#odesta #finnick x annie #annie x finnick #finnick odair #annie cresta #the hunger games #hunger games #the hunger games fanfiction #odesta fanfiction #district 4 #thg #my hunger games fic #dot talk #they deserved better #hunger games fanfiction #tw: panic attack #tw: mentions of r*pe

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inviouswriting · 3 years

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Decided.

Spoiler Warnings - Spoilers for Save the Queen arc. Seriously if you haven’t done it and want to, don’t read it. The story is really good. You just need 10 mettle to complete most of the story dialogue.

Content warnings - Talks of Kivera’s past.

Characters - Mentions @snow-covered-moon ‘s Shuri. and the polyship.

I wanted to write Kivera in how she would even gain Misija. And this came out nicely.

“What made you bargain to let them spare me. Aren’t you afraid I’ll resort to the same methods?” Misija looks to Kivera, the reaper had managed to bargain her life. Kivera is staring off into the distance, she had yet to shed the normal guise, dancer and miqo. She thinks on how to answer Misija. Her attention turns towards her, green eyes flickering between colors.

“What good will the answer do you? Some sort of consolation? You had resigned yourself to execution. I didn’t have to bargain much, people can be bought with simple words.” Kivera spoke in a way that made the Roe think on her ways. She admired her strengths even before they had crossed weapons. There was something about the miqo’te, she didn’t force her way except when she demanded Misija to be left into her care. That she would be the decider of her fate.

“I suppose a question that already has an answer.” Misija follows Kivera’s gaze as they overlook a ruins, they were making their way slowly to a rendezvous with Shuri and Estinien. Shuri anxious to meet another person that managed to catch the eye of the reaper. Estinien accepting their house gaining another, trusting Kivera’s judgement. He didn’t have a reason to doubt her when it came to injustice somewhere.

“So tell me then, why me?” Kivera looks up, the first time she does since they had been traveling by foot and mount. They stopped for now to rest before they continued on.

“You have a shine to your soul that I couldn’t let be snuffed out.” Misija glances to her, seeing her change her form, a ripple in her clothing. She is taken by surprise of the wings, or how the simple demeanor she knew her as, is not there.

“Couldn’t let be snuffed out, so you bring me into a life with others? What if I were to run away, or escape this sentence.” Kivera casts an eye towards Misija.

“You could, but I doubt you will.”

“How are you so certain?”

“You would have done so by now. I’ve seen your type before. I’ve also fought you personally. If you had wanted to leave, you would have the moment we were outside Gangos.” Kivera brings a hand to her own face observing Misija’s simple close of her eyes, realizing she was caught.

“What drew you to me then.” She did not understand the prowess Kivera seems to have. A lure within herself, she could charm those around her, she has seen her do so. Others placing their faith in her blindly.

“You at first remind me of someone close to me. After seeing the memories of the Queen, I felt something I hadn’t in a long time since I came here. I saw injustice the same way you did. Yet understood the meaning behind Gunnhildr’s sacrifice. Yet still felt a wrongness in it.” Kivera sees the upturn in Misija’s face, at the memories of her great ancestor. Kivera had read the field notes, she knew why Misija had such a strong drive towards the Queen. Felt so wrong and was a perfect candidate for the primal.

“So why did you stop me, if you knew all that.” She sits down at the ledge, and Kivera watches her for now, as if analyzing her.

“I have people I want to protect on this star. Their very existence is what made me stop you. I did not want to see you burn out in the same fashion of another beloved friend to one of my lovers. Her death still haunts this love of mine.” Kivera flits to in front of Misija sitting on her lap.

The Roe eyes here weary of her ability to move fast. Another factor, she wouldn’t be able to outrun someone who was clearly more powerful than her. So Misija holds her at her waist.

“Is this Ysayle? The first count of a person taking a primal into herself? I heard about her, in how she sacrificed herself to let the warriors of light pass into Azys Lla. While chasing Thordan.” Kivera nods confirming the identity.

“Was I a chance for you to right a wrong then?” Kivera narrows her eyes, letting a flash of orange cross them. Annoyed at the constant questions.

“No. I chose you for other reasons. I will reveal those in time. I hope you’ll come to trust me, as I have placed my trust in others and you.” Misija sees how trust was emphasized in her words. That it is hard for the creature in front of her to trust others.

“It will be a slow process. How will you know I won’t use you and yours?”

“Time will tell. Slow process indeed, as for knowing. I have my ways.” Kivera raises her head to lock her gaze with Misija. There she is shown the same thing Kivera shows any who she has an interest in. Her past, everything about herself, what she is, who she is, what she endured, what she gained, her heartache and rises.

Like a storybook flipping through pages in Misija’s head, she is overwhelmed at seeing her murder, her cast down from the heavens, descent through hell and purgatory. The sheer strength she has at gaining each and every power she has now, weapon. One memory Misija focuses on is her trials, how Kivera crawled through a labyrinth blind and electrocuted by the great centaur Chiron as he shot arrows at her. Yet she outsmarts him luring him into a pool of water leading the lightning back to him.

After that point Misija sees the hurried memories of Damien, those seeming to fade more rapid like Kivera didn’t want anyone to see them. The loved ones she gained who are dear to her. From Shuri to Estinien, Divinity’s memories she understands Kivera’s attention after seeing the witch trial hunts. Seeing someone die for what others deem right and moral.

The share ends, and Misija is staring at green eyes, those eyes stare into her very soul, she feels her being frozen in space. Eorzea has no idea what kind of being wanders the realm, yet she chooses to love people who were once condemned for death in some way.

Misija finds Kivera’s eyes too intense, and looks away.

“Too much all at once?”

“Not every day someone meets a literal...”

“You can say it. Once.”

“Angel.”

“Fallen angel.”

“You have so much more, yet you waste your time with the likes of me, rejected by her own queen. You saw that end.. why?” Misija feels a hand at her face.

“Perhaps in time you will see what I see. I can’t tell you that right now. It’s something for you to figure out. You can’t do that dead obviously.” Kivera tilts her head feeling comfortable in her spot on the roe’s lap.

“You speak in riddles reaper.” Misija allows herself to relax knowing the other won’t force her hand in anything unwanted. She could run away even. But now that she witnessed the memories, she didn’t want to.

“I speak more plain if you open your mind a bit more. I’m not that complicated, and neither are you.” Kivera smirks as she speaks, the roe finding her a little arrogant in her words, but admires her straightforward self.

“Simple you say, yet you are one of the most complex beings to grace this realm.” Kivera takes it as a compliment seeing the sly grin on her face. Kivera guides Misija’s head towards her own. The roe eyes her again but does as she is being guded. Kivera presses her forehead to hers. A simple affection, one that didn’t need to be elaborated on, or for her to convey her feelings when they’re right there.

Misija had never been given affection like this, calm and pure. It scared her, she knew of nothing kind in her entire life, yet a person she had tried to kill was there showing her this rare kindness.

Vulnerability more than the bare hunger she suffered in her youth. Humility, Kivera was showing her humility, what it meant to enjoy what you have before you. For Misija it is this woman now, for Kivera it is all she has ever gained from her own death.

“You are too kind.. Perhaps it would be your undoing.”

“Silence before I make you be quiet. Enjoy this moment with me. I’m not asking you for much and neither are you.” Kivera receives her request, and they spend the next few minutes in complete silence, accepting the others presence.

For once since her release into this new chapter. Misija allows herself to be more selfish.

#ffxiv misija #misija votyasch #Kivera Siverstein #shuri fontaye #save the queen #bozjan southern front #Kivera being herself

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