District 4 - Tumblr Posts

Haven’t really drawn anything new these past weeks because of school so have a compilation of Hunger Games art of some of the Victors both OCs and canon

By the time of the trilogy, Careers and their volunteering has become a common practice as Katniss is faced with one (books) to possibly three (movies) volunteers from the so-called Career Districts.

In the prequel, volunteering is not yet a common practice. The tenth Hunger Games lack the entertainment quality the trilogy has, where we possibly get the first parade (TBOSAS, 9), a first version of stylists (TBOSAS, 11), and a sponsor system (TBOSAS, 7) with many more changes to come in the epilogue. Many have theorised that Quarter Quells did not yet exist and would later be invented by Snow and his mentor.

The First Quarter Quell remains a mystery to us outside of its premise. We learn that “as a reminder to the rebels that their children were dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every district was made to hold an election and vote on the tributes who would represent it.” (CF, 12).

Due to its voting for a tribute, it could be possible that the First Quarter Quell popularised volunteering in some Districts.

The initial task for the First Quarter Quell indicates punishment: It wants to remind the rebels that their children are not safe, thus targeting those within the District communities who had fought against their oppressors. The election is meant to sow distrust among each other: fear that one’s neighbours will vote for one’s child. The Capitol wants to prevent another uprising by separating community.

However, some Districts might have defied this concept: They could have talked amongst each other who would be the likeliest to survive the arena, and possibly had children volunteer to be elected. This concept would have offered safety for everyone else, and those who volunteered to be voted for would likely have been seen as brave protecting those who might have had to go into the arena instead.

This tactic could have gained popularity in the Career Districts—District 1, 2, and 4—and could have been brought up the year after the First Quarter Quell:

If tributes had been seen as heroic protectors of the community, why not apply this system for the years after the First Quarter Quell? Why not have the strongest volunteer?

Through this, a culture could have developed: Different Career Districts would likely develop at different speeds and into different directions. District 2 might have developed this concept faster and moved more into the general bravery of the tributes, whereas District 4 might have taken longer and moved into the aspect of protecting the community more.

The First Quarter Quell as the starting moment for professionalised volunteering marks it as an interesting moment in history. It would line up with the other two known Quarter Quells, which both defied the Capitol in unexpected ways: Haymitch’s abuse of the forcefield as a weapon, and Katniss’ destruction of the arena are both ways that left the Quarter Quells with long-lasting effects against the Capitol.

This Quell, then, too, is a means of defying the Games. Children in the Career Districts no longer need to fear the Capitol in the same way they used to. Instead, weaker and poorer children would sleep safe and sound knowing someone will volunteer in their place.

FINNICK ODAIR

HUNGER GAMES OC (SAM) AGE 21

Winner of the 69th Hunger Games at age 15

Wone by drowning and outlasting the other tributes refused to join the careers and made his way on his own. His only ally was a girl from District 3 who died at the hands of the District 7 male tribute who ended up being Sam's first kill.

Sam initially got a 7 as his training score.

STRANGER THINGS X HUNGER GAMES AU

The order that the members of the party won their games:

1. Jonathan (13) District 8

2. Steve (14) District 4

3. Will (12) District 8

4. Max (13) District 12 / Lucas (13) District 7 (they won on a quarter quell, 2 people could win that year)

5. Eddie (17) District 12

6. Nancy (17) District 1

7. Robin (18) District 5

8. Mike (17) District 1

9. Dustin (18) District 3

10. Erica (16) District 7

As you can see I changed their ages a bit.

Their ages: (sort of)

Steve, Jonathan, and Eddie are the same age (oldest)

Nancy and Robin are 1 year younger than Steve, Jonathan, and Eddie (middle)

Will, Mike, Lucas, Max, and Dustin are 2 years younger than Nancy and Robin and 3 years younger than Steve, Jonathan, and Eddie. (Also, middle)

Erica is 3 years younger than Lucas. (Youngest)

El/Jane is a mutation created by the capital that got out of their control and ended up in the arena in Mike's year. She is a year younger than Mike.

STRANGER THINGS X HUNGER GAMES AU STEVE HARRINGTON TRIBUTE FROM DISTRICT 4

Steve won his games like Finnik in the original series did. But unlike Finnik, the president had no one to use against him.

Source: [x]

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Pirate Terms and Phrases

-> Pirate Lingo

-> A Pirate's Glossary

Batten Down The Hatches - tie everything down and put stuff away for a coming storm.

Brig - a prison on a ship.

Bring a Spring Upon 'er - turn the ship in a different direction

Broadside - the most vulnerable angle of a ship that runs the length of the boat.

Cutlass - a thick, heavy and rather short sword blade.

Dance with Jack Ketch - to hang; death at the hands of the law (Jack Ketch was a famed English executioner).

Davy Jones's Locker - a mythical place at the bottom of the ocean where drowned sailors are said to go.

Dead Men Tell No Tales - the reason given for leaving no survivors.

Flogging - severe beating of a person.

Gangplank - removable ramp between the pier and ship.

Give No Quarter - show no mercy.

Jack - flag flown at the front of the ship to show nationality.

Jolly Roger - black pirate flag with a white skull and crossbones.

Keelhaul - a punishment where someone is dragged under the ship. They are cut by the planks and barnacles on the bottom of the ship.

Landlubber - an inexperienced or clumsy person who doesn't have any sailing skills.

Letters of Marque - government-issued letters allowing privateers the right to piracy of another ship during wartime.

Man-O-War - a pirate ship that is decked out and prepared for battle.

Maroon - to leave someone stranded on a. deserted island with no supplies, typically a punishment for any crew members who disrespected the captain.

Mutiny - a situation in which the crew chooses a new captain, sometimes by forcibly removing the old one.

No Prey, No Pay - a common pirate law that meant crew members were not paid, but rather received a share of whatever loot was taken.

Old Salt - experienced pirate or sailor.

Pillage - to steal/rob a place using violence.

Powder Monkeys - men that performed the most dangerous work on the ship. They were treated harshly, rarely paid, and were expendable.

Privateer - government-appointed pirates.

Run A Shot Across the Bow - fire a warning shot at another boat's Captain.

Scurvy - a disease caused by Vitamin C Deficiency.

Sea Legs - when a sailor adjusts his balance from riding on a boat for a long time.

Strike Colors - lower a ship's flag to indicate surrender.

Weigh Anchor and Hoist the Mizzen - an order to the crew to pull up the anchor and get the ship sailing.

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𝐄𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐎𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (fem reader) 𝟓𝐤 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐍𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐩𝐭.𝟐 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝-𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭-𝐰𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 ,𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫-𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐲. 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝, 𝐀𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚. 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐠𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫?

Tugging at my hair, the wind brushed past me in a hurry. It came from far away, seemingly always looking for something, never being able to find it. Paired with the wind, a steady but small wave washed up against the shoreline, the thinnest part of the wave just barely scraping my feet.

I looked up at the sky. It was partly clouded, but beautiful nethertheless. The sun was just barely breaking through the horizon, casting gentle light across the beach. It mixed with the blue sky and formed a rose-pink colour across the clouds, the shore and the sea. Was it always so beautiful here? 

I shook my head, casting my gaze to the side, my eyes landing on a lone boulder which sat in the water. The exterior was decorated by lavish long seaweed and a cluster of barnacles. It sat proudly in the water, the waves crashing against it every so often, sprays of water flying into the air. It was a pretty sight. Almost pretty enough to distract me from the anxiety tugging at my heart.

A sliver of water touched my feet, before being dragged back to the sea.

Today is my last year of reaping. Today is the day that decides whether I'll be free for the rest of my life, or whether I will die fighting for my life in a gruesome bloodbath.

Though in this context, freedom isn't exactly what one might think it is. Nobody is ever truly free in Panem.

Someone like me would not survive in any of the arenas we've seen so far. I can barely handle killing a fish, let alone an entire human being, a child. I can feel a shiver travel down my spine, and I shake my head, casting those thoughts aside. Nothing will happen, I think to myself, and continue to look at the splashing waves, hypnotised by the rhythmic back-and-forth movement, accompanied by occasional licks of water against the tips of my feet, which have found respite in the sand.

With a sigh, I lean back on my elbows. Squinting slightly, I observe the clouds. None have any particular shape to them, but it feels comforting to stare at them as they move. Would I get to see them in an arena? I don't think so.

Time passed by rather quickly. When you lay on a beach with no form of watch or clock, a minute can quickly become an hour. And before I knew it, I began to notice some small boats setting out into the sea, as the sun slowly climbed up higher into the sky. It must be what...7am? Maybe 8. That's usually when people wake up to go fishing, since the waters are calmer in the morning.

With a sigh, I begin to think of the day ahead. It is mandatory to attend the reaping. If one doesn't, they'll be dragged out of their homes, whipped in the town square, and then forced to watch. I sigh heavily, fingers digging into the sand beneath me, and with a light shake of my head, I reluctantly heave myself up and off the sand, heading towards the treeline.

Nobody really ventures into the wooden forest, in fear of the peacekeepers that guard the borders of District 4. Although I learned very quickly that they're further out than one might think, many citizens of District 4 have no interest in venturing out, believing that there isn't much out there to be seen in the first place.

But not me.

When I was much younger, I'd often run into the forest to go exploring. There aren't many dangerous animals in there, so nobody would worry unless I haven't returned by the evening.

On one of those adventures, I had discovered a bunch of rock pools. Now that may not sound fantastic, but it was. I saw big animals, at the time I wasn't sure what they were, but now I do - they were seals. All bearing different kinds of fluffy coats of fur, ranging from pure white, to a spotty grey, brown and black. 

After that day, I'd always return at least once a week to observe them from afar. I don't know much about them, and I'd prefer to minimise the risk of being mauled by an animal. But each year, I'd see small seal pups, sunbathing around the rock pools, chasing each other over the expanse of the beach, or cuddling up to their mothers.

Other times, when the seals weren't there, I'd venture further out, playing around the rock pools, observing the little creatures stuck in them. Sometimes there'd be small crabs hiding in crevices, other times there'd be small fish swimming endlessly in circles. 

I'd sit there each day, staring at and observing the different animals, until I'd look up and realise I've overstayed my welcome. On one particular day, I walked around the beach for so long, mesmerised by the waves, gazing at the stars in the sky, that I hadn't noticed it was dark. Upon realising it I had hurried back home, still in a daze, but it was already pitch black by the time I returned, and I had gotten the biggest scolding from my mother, asking where I've been. She was quick to ground me, and I wasn't allowed out of other people's sight for almost two weeks.

Annie Cresta, my best friend, had repetitively asked where I went that day, but I never uttered a word of it to her, only insisting that I had been diving too far from the shore. I've been friends with her for years now, practically since we were in diapers.

A long time ago, we'd go out swimming together in the kelp forests near our homes, they were far away from the main area of fishing, but close enough for adults to not worry. We'd often see sea otters swimming around the kelp, but they stayed far from us. Me and Annie would often follow the otters, as they knew where to get Abalone from. But after each return home, we'd be scolded by our mothers, who insisted we had to stop if we didn't want to get into trouble.

I guess finding abalone and bringing it home without the permission of the authorities counts as poaching.

We'd sometimes share some with other families of trusted friends, but mostly Finnick Odair's family, who were just as close to us.

Anyway, I'm not willing to disclose information about the beach, or the animals, to anybody. Not even my long-time crush, Finnick, the boy with sea-green eyes. I've had a crush on him for years now, but his eyes were always on Annie. I can see why, their personalities match so well, Finnick's confidence and caring nature complements Annie's shy and anxious one. I'm just the third wheel whenever all three of us are together, but I guess I don't mind.

I'll find the right one eventually, I hope.

Too deep in my thoughts, I had failed to realise that there was a low lying tree branch ahead of me. And looking up too late, I walked face first into it. The pain struck me all at once, and I swear I heard a tiny 'crunch'.

"Ah! Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!" I shouted, hissing in pain. "Stupid branch! Why is it even there?!" I shouted at no one in particular, holding onto my nose tightly. I slowly let go, feeling the burning pain flare up on my skin like a smouldering flame, and then I felt it. The steady flow of blood. It was everywhere. My face, lips, my hands, even my clothes. Who knew a human nose could bleed so much? I looked over myself, crying out at the state of my shirt.

I have to get home, I thought. With quick, long strides, I soon found myself walking through the front door of my house, being greeted by my mother standing in the kitchen, preparing our clothes for the reaping. "I'm home." I said loudly, my tone laced with annoyance, I stepped in and shut the door behind me, walking into the kitchen, still holding tightly onto my nose.

My mother turned her head to greet me with a smile, but that smile quickly disappeared at the sight of me.

Her face paled and her eyes widened in shock, mouth falling agape as a worried yelp left her lips. "What happened to you dear?!" She screamed, dropping everything mid sentence as she made her way over to me.

I rolled my eyes, sighing loudly. "I walked into a tree branch." I muttered under my breath, my shoulders slumping in defeat.

My mother laughed at me, all of the initial worry dissipating from her body. "Really?" She asked in disbelief, howling in laughter, holding her stomach. After two minutes of her laughing, she finally calmed down enough to take a look at my injury, deciding that some cold, wet rag will be enough to soothe both the swelling and the pain. "Annie will be laughing just as much as you, I bet," I said as I walked over to the tap, turning it on, "'Y/n you're so clumsy!'" I mocked her voice, groaning in anticipation of that knock on the front door, awaiting my closest friend to come and retrieve me. I began to wipe the blood off my face and hands with some water, using a towel to dry off after.

Early this year me and Annie had decided to go to our last reaping together. We had both turned 18, and so it would be the last year that our names would be put into that glass bowl. We were ecstatic over it, but at the same time terrified. This was the last year, but what if one of our names gets pulled out? We're both anticipating it, and praying at the same time that it won't happen. It would be devastating, and I don't believe that either of us are prepared to face 23 other tributes in the arena, let alone kill any of them.

But putting those thoughts aside, I decided to focus on the present. I had managed to drown out my mother's voice, but when I tuned in, I realised she was talking about the dress I'll be wearing. It was a sundress, in the faintest colour of royal blue possible, with a frilled, off-white hem. "I wore it years ago, at my very last reaping too," My mother spoke, her hands lovingly gliding over the faded fabric, "I was told that all the boys looked at me that day." She laughed at the memory, now gently holding the dress by the straps, pressing it against my body. "Hold it, dear."

My hands gently held the dress, and I looked down at myself, my eyes widening in shock as I looked over the intricate designs scattered across the expanse of the dress - sunflowers graced the fabric, painted in the faded blue, overlapping each other.

"Go, try it on dear." My mother said, ushering me to my room, "I'll do your hair after, okay?" She said, and shut the door on me before any words could form at the tip of my tongue.

I shook my head with a small smile, setting the fabric down onto my bed. I turned away, beginning to strip out of my blood-tattered t-shirt, discarding it to a dark corner of my room, my shorts and socks following in tow. I walked a few steps over to a large cracked mirror. It leaned proudly against the wall, reflecting the bright sunrays that made their way into my room.

How many hours has it been?

I looked myself over, turning from one side to another, observing. If my name was to be called out...Would I even have a chance in the arena? Most of the kids that are chosen are frail and skinny, others are fit and healthy, and others are strong and tall. Which category did I belong to? With a loud sigh, I moved away from the mirror and back to my bed, where the beautiful dress laid. I looked over it, staring intensely. The sound of birds chirping in the distance, the gentle breeze coming in through my window, and the smell of the sea all invaded my senses at once. I love this place - no matter how difficult life may be. I'll always have some form of a safe place in District 4. If only the circumstances were different, maybe I'd be able to-

"What are you doing?" A voice asked, ripping me out of my thoughts. I slowly looked over to the person, my eyes going first as my head followed suit. It wasn't Annie, nor was it my mother or sister.

"Finnick?! Look away!" I shouted, grabbing the dress, covering myself up. Maybe I did have a crush on him, but that didn't mean I would happily expose myself. "It's not like you've got something I haven't seen already!" Finnick laughed, a wide amused grin gracing his lips, exposing his pearly white teeth. Though in my embarrassment, I failed to hear the dark undertone in his voice. "I don't care! You don't just invade in on my privacy like this!" I said, chucking one of my pillows at him. "Alright, alright! I'll cover my eyes! Is that good enough?" He asked, a tint of amusement still lacing his voice, but the genuineness was unmistakeable.

"Fine. What did you want anyway?" I asked, slipping the dress on as my eyes focused on him like a hawk, making sure his eyes were covered.

"Just came to say good luck, since y'know, it's your last year of reaping." He said, smiling at me as his hands covered his eyes. I smiled with a huff, and smoothened the dress out over myself. The end of it just about reached my knees, but the material was stretchy enough if I needed it to be. I walked over to my mirror, stunned at how it complimented my skin tone, and looked over myself, turning from side to side, completely forgetting that Finnick was even there for a moment. 

"Can I look now?" He asked, his voice so smooth and gentle it made my heart flutter. "Yes, go for it." I said, walking over to him. 

"How do I look?" I asked, giving him a small twirl. The end of the dress seemed to flow in the air like a jellyfish, the beautiful blue turning almost into a gentle wave, rising slightly before it dropped as I came to a stop.

I looked up to Finnick, searching for a reply, but there wasn't any. He simply stood there, silently watching, but his eyes were slightly widened. I cleared my throat, snapping my fingers near his face. "You look great, I'm sure any guy you want will chase after you after seeing this." He said, almost breathless but still confident, a smirk gracing his lips as he looked me up and down through hooded eyes.

I laughed, shaking my head in denial. "No, I don't think so," I said, leaning against the window frame, staring into those pretty eyes of his. I looked him over, noticing that he was wearing a dark blue tank top, along with some form of tight-fit joggers. His hair glistened in the sun, his skin tan from the rays. His hand slowly reached out to me, and his rough fingers gently latched onto the straps of my sundress, toying with the material. 

His touch against my skin seemed to set it on fire. My heart began thudding aggressively against my chest, and I had to focus on breathing normally, fighting the rising heat in my cheeks.

Does he always have to be so touchy? If he comes any closer he'll be able to hear how fast my heart is beating. 

 "Anyway, have you seen Annie?" I asked, quickly diverting his attention, and his gaze. At that he shook his head, looking up from my shoulders to my eyes. "I was gonna see her after you." He said, biting his bottom lip in thought. 

"I'm sure she'll appreciate it, you know how she gets." I finished quietly as a pang of hurt tugged at my heart. Was I jealous?

"Yeah, but it can't be that bad. What are the odds?" He asked, his fingers lightly tugging at the material of my dress, observing how the fabric bounced back to my skin. His eyes concentrated on the material again, his eyebrows furrowing in worry as he remained silent, still chewing on that lip. I observed him, looking over his hair, it looked so fluffy. His forehead glistened, some sweat having built up, his green eyes stuck in a trance. His fingers felt soft against my skin, and his breath lightly fanned over my neck.

I took a deep breath, focusing on how my chest rose up as air filled it, giving myself a spare moment to realise my thoughts. My hands came to hold his own, gently rubbing the sun-kissed skin.

"It'll be okay, if anything happens...I'll be there." I said, giving his hands a soft squeeze, reassuring him softly, "You better get going. She'll think you won't show up." I stroked his cheek affectionately, smiling down at him. I could tell that Annie was at the forefront of his mind, after all, he did have feelings for her, even if he hadn't admitted it. To anyone. But, as a person who believes herself to be in love, I can recognise another person that's in love. Or so I think. "Go Finnick." I said, pushing him away with the tip of my finger against his forehead.

He sent me a quick but charming smile, nodding softly, saying his goodbye's before jogging off in the opposite direction of my house. I began to feel a sadness tug at my chest, and even though I knew I shouldn't feel like this, I couldn't help it. 

That sadness stayed with me for a while, it stayed as my mother tied small strands of hair together so that it resembled a net, it remained as she talked about the dress my sister would wear, it remained whilst my sister gaped at how pretty I looked, picking at her nails in nervousness, it remained until the moment that Annie's gentle fist knocked at my front door.

My mother quickly opened it, greeting her sweetly. A small 'Where's Y/n?' could be heard, and I peeked my head out, ready to go and face our last reaping.

"Y/n? You look...Amazing!" Annie exclaimed, a bright smile on her face as she trotted up to me, extending her arms for a hug. "So do you Annie, so do you." I said happily, careful not to ruin her hair. It was tied up into a thick ponytail, with a couple of braids running through it, and two strands of hair framing her face prettily. My own hair was let down, however the top pieces were tied together into an intricate net pattern. My mother had outdone herself, genuinely.

Annie's hugs were a different kind of love - warm and gentle, but they conveyed everything that her words failed to. I could tell by the way her hands trembled around me that she was anxious. Annie wasn't a fighter or a hunter, and anyone that had been around her could tell.

Someone began running to the front door, stepping loudly onto the floor. I looked behind me and saw Hali making her way towards me, her arms outstretched. "Are you going now?" She asked, her voice quiet. I wrapped my arms around her in a hug, placing a small peck on the top of her head. "Yes, we want to be there early to avoid the crowds." I said, patting her head with one hand. Hali looked up at me with her big doe eyes, her bottom lip quivering.

"I'll see you there, right?" She asked, and I could hear the fear in her voice. I nodded softly, smiling at her. "Yes, you'll see me and Annie standing with the other oldest girls, alright? I'll wave at you too." I reassured her, not letting go until she was ready. She nodded her head quickly, shaking like a leaf.

"It'll be okay. They won't choose me." As I said it, Hali unlatched her arms, stepping a bit away. "Alright, I really hope not. But what if they do?" She asked, twiddling with her hair. 

"If they choose me, then I'll need you to support me from home okay?" I asked, kneeling down in front of her. "I'll need you to take care of mum, and take care of yourself until I return. Is that okay?" I asked, looking at her with a small smile. She nodded her head, wrapping her arms around my neck in a hug. She didn't want to let go, and Annie had to step in and ask 'Are you ready to go' before Hali unwillingly detached herself from me. With a quiet 'yes', I gave Hali one last hug and a reassuring squeeze of her hand, making my way backwards to the door.

"You'll see me for dinner, okay?" I asked, and she nodded her head, wiping away a few tears. "I love you." She said through her tears.

"I love you too, now go get ready." I said, giving her one last hug before walking out of the house, bidding my goodbyes to both my mum and Hali. "Take care of yourself dear. We'll see you there." My mother said, waving to me as she placed one hand on Hali's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"You'll see me there, mum. I love you." I said, my mother whispered an 'I love you' back, shutting the door gently. With a heavy sigh, I turned to Annie, linking my arm with hers.

 Annie looked at me worriedly, chewing on her bottom lip - a nervous habit she had picked up over the years. "Do you think we'll be okay?" She asked quietly, looking at me, concerned. I nodded my head, forcing a smile onto my lips, even though I could feel the sick tumbling around in my stomach. 

Suddenly, the air began to feel a bit too warm, and I could feel sweat beginning to cling uncomfortably to my skin. "We'll be okay Annie," I reassured her, giving her a side hug, "You've got me." I said quietly, nudging her to keep moving forward.

The town square wasn't so far away that we had to hurry, yet we made it there in record time. The queues weren't massive, and so we got through to the courtyard rather quickly, holding onto our throbbing fingers. It wasn't long until everyone else had slowly started filing into the courtyard, every person of every age group was there. I looked around, noticing how quickly the yard had filled with people. My eyes then looked at the entrance, trying to see my sister and mother. Soon enough they entered the courtyard, hand by hand heading to the side-lines, where other adults and young children would file and stand. 

Hali's big, wide eyes scanned the area, and she looked like a lost rabbit, all alert and ready to run. She was looking for me, and soon our eyes connected and I sent her a reassuring smile and a thumbs-up.

I then looked forward, staring ahead at the temporary golden podium. There were four chairs situated just behind the single podium and two glass balls on each side of it. One chair is for our Mayor, one for the announcer, and two for the two Victors from District 4; Finnick, and an elderly woman named Mags. Everyone is seated in the appropriate seats. 

Once the crowd begins to come to a stall, the Mayor takes it as his sign to walk up to the microphone, looking up at the big clock above him, clearing his throat.

It struck 12. 

He begins by greeting the citizens, and then proceeds to tell the history of Panem, as he does every year. He talks about the natural disasters, the uprisings, the destruction of District 13 - all of this is old news. After overcoming the Dark Days, laws were created, and alongside them so were the Hunger Games. I manage to tune out his voice, and instead focus on those behind him.

The announcer, who every year comes from the Capitol, gets the opportunity to personally pick out which children will be sent to their deaths in a bloodbath. 

Her hair was styled into some sort of glamorous, 3 story high bun, with a few loose strands framing her oddly sharp face. It was dyed an unnatural golden colour, and had sparkling silver beads embedded into it, two particularly large ones placed just at the tip of her hair strands, sitting comfortably on the frilly material of her sparkling, turquoise two piece - a skirt and a corset, her feather-like, white skin covered by the material of a matching jacket. She really outdid herself.

Seated on her left were Finnick and Mags, both looking over the crowds, both wearing unreadable expressions as the Mayor continues to talk. 

For a second, I believe that Finnick has noticed me, it looked as though he was looking directly into my eyes. His sea-green eyes peeking into my very soul. My heart fluttered, and the butterflies started circling around in my stomach. I felt the heat rush to my cheeks. I took a deep breath, but then I'm harshly hit with reality, and remember that Annie was right next to me, probably looking at him too.

He looks away as the Mayor begins to name the winners of District 4, and stands up along with Mags to wave at the crowds, being greeted with the appropriate level of applause. Curt and short, but it didn't matter. Next, the Mayor announces the Capitol representative, Sylvia Borgnino, and she stands up, waving excitedly at us, making tiny steps towards the microphone, her cheery voice echoing around us in seconds. 

"Happy Hunger Games everyone! And may the odds be ever in your favour!" She shouts excitedly, almost hopping on her toes. 

I guess there is at least one person here that's happy about the games. 

She thanks the Mayor for his kindness and welcoming, and then quickly turns back to us, the audience, her voice changing to a more serious tone.

"And now," She pauses, leaning over the podium and looking over at everyone, "We shall draw the names of the Tributes." She states, slowly walking over to the glass bowl full of girls' names, the sound of her heels clacking, beating at my eardrums.

"Ladies first."

I look over to Finnick, and then Annie, and then Hali. Hali is already looking at me, and so is my mum. I reach my hand out to hold Annie's, squeezing tightly as I feel how clammy her hand is, my chest tightening as I breathed. I swallow an imaginary lump, feeling how my throat constricts uncomfortably.

The sun was beating down on us, its' rays glazing over my skin, bubbling up sticky sweat. Were did the clouds go?

Wearily, I glance up at the large clock towering over us, its' heavy ticking weighing down on my shoulders.

Sylvia Borgnino's gloved hand shoots up into the air dramatically, and the crowd collectively goes silent. No one dares to even breathe as she animatedly rummages through the name cards for a solid 10 seconds.

It better not be me. I swear if it's me I will riot, I think to myself. The nerves tickle at the inner lining of my stomach, and for a moment I believe that I might throw up.

A bead of sweat trickles down the side of my forehead

Tick, tock.

Was the sun always so hot?

Tick, tock.

I swallow heavily.

Her hand grasps onto something, and she dramatically withdraws it, menacingly crossing over to the podium.

"And the female tribute from District 4 is.."

Please not me. Not me. My breathing quickens as she draws on her silence, smiling devilishly down at the crowd. My hair was sticking to my neck, creating an unpleasant sensation. 

I swallow dryly, my mouth feeling as though I had been deprived of water.

As the words leave her mouth, I can feel my heart drop.

"Annie Cresta."

Time seems to stop. I can no longer feel Annie's hand in my grasp, her fingers having slowly slipped out. I turn my head, feeling my chest heaving up and down, tears pricking at my eyes. My hands fly up to my mouth in shock, intense tremors travelling from my shoulders up to my fingertips.

Annie falls to her knees with a thud, hiding her face in her hands as she cries out hysterically, her mane-like hair looking like a flame. I follow suit, embracing her in my arms, whispering quiet 'It's okay's', holding her head on my shoulder. The other girls slowly step away, creating a circle around us.

What do I do? Do I let her go? That girl won't last a minute in there!

Two peacekeepers rip through the crowds aggressively, roughly pushing anyone out of their way, before coming to a stop in front of us, heaving Annie up by her arms, ushering her towards the stage. Her face is covered in sweat and tears, her fiery hair sticking uncomfortably to her face, her mouth wide open as she wails.

"Please! No! I can't go in there!" She screams, digging her heels into the ground, protesting, thrashing her arms around. She looks as though she suddenly became haunted, a sort of violent air surrounding her. 

With small footsteps, I attempt to follow after her, but more peacekeepers arrive to stop me, creating a blockade of bodies. I look towards my mother and sister, eyes wide, and see their shocked faces. My mother is shaking her head in a 'no', but it's too late. Hali looks at me wide-eyed, tears starting to fall from her eyes as she senses what I'm about to do. 

I look to Finnick, noticing that he had stood up from his chair, his fists clamped shut, once tan skin now having turned a strained white colour. His eyes are stuck to Annie, and never dare to leave her once.

Before Sylvia Borgnino can utter a single word, I raise my hand, pushing through the peacekeepers. All heads turn to me. The guards stop pushing Annie, and she looks to me, her thrashing easing a bit.

The words leave my lips before I can even process them myself. 

With a dry mouth, clammy hands and a wildly beating heart, I shout, "I volunteer!"

𝐄𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐎𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐭.𝟐 (fem reader) 𝟗.𝟕𝐤 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤. 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞. 𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐢𝐭, 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞-𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐥𝐲, 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐇𝐞'𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲, 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐚 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲.

As the words leap off the tip of my tongue, I freeze. Time stills, and all that I can hear and feel is the hurried beat of my heart. The tips of my fingers begin to prick, just like on that day.

I'm taken back to an icy, cold, windy day. Some of the water at the harbour had frozen over, large shards of ice hitting against the wooden structure. We were carrying large nets filled with all kinds of creatures; fish, crab, lobster, abalone, the whole lot. The children would often come to help out, as the work was long, tiring and difficult, stretching out until it became pitch black outside.

Me and Annie had been helping my mother out with carrying the nets, as she had been pregnant back then, her stomach too large to let her do anything but sit and debone the fish, or pack it away into freezing boxes that were to be transported straight to the Capitol.

On that day, the excess water that had been brought by the creatures had dripped heavily onto the wooden flooring, freezing over. Everyone was aware of it, some going out of their way to warn the others. I listened, focusing on the floor beneath my feet. It creaked heavily, and Annie had to catch me by my arm a couple of times. 

I remember it like it was just yesterday; the water was scalding cold.

It pricked at my skin with invisible nails, burning every inch of it through my coat. The water had instantly gotten through my throat, and then it began to freeze my lungs over. My hands felt like burning icicles, but I did my best to swim my way up, panicking for air. Gurgled screams escaped my throat.

I didn't swim for long enough, as my limbs began to become numb. I had ceased all of my movement, convinced that I was gonna to die. Feeling too worn out to continue swimming, even though just a mere moment ago I was ferociously fighting for my life. 

The cold was engulfing me like a spikey blanket, wrapping around every crevice of my body as my lungs sputtered out water, though more replaced it in mere seconds. My entire body kept twitching, but the icy water kept burning me. 

My body began to slowly sink, exhaustion taking over as I inched further down, surrounded by darkness.

Then, in the far distance, I saw it. The splash.

I saw it from the corner of my eye, a figure swimming towards me. At first it was just a blur of bronze, but then it became slightly clearer. Arms extended, it reached out to grab a hold of my hand and pulled, and I floated up after it towards the surface, arms latched loosely around his neck. My eyes slowly closed, too exhausted to stay awake.

I don't remember anything after that. All I know is that it hurt, and I almost died. I struggled to walk for a while, the stinging pain reappearing from time to time.

That's how I felt in this moment; legs frozen, heart pounding violently, lungs burning. I guess it took me too long to keep moving, as I quickly felt a pair of hands harshly grab my arms from each side, ushering me up and onto the stage.

"Wonderful!" Sylvia Borgnino exclaims, reaching her pointy gloved fingers towards me. "What is your name darling?" She asks in a heavy accent, her breath lightly fanning over my face as she leans in close. I clear my throat, looking between her own honey-brown eyes and the audience. "Y-Y/n..." I stutter, feeling my hands tremble.

"Y/n?" Sylvia asks, her eyebrows raised questioningly, nudging me on.

"Y/n Montford." I finish quietly, my throat has dried up, my voice coming out croaky and timid. I look around, noticing the shocked faces of the people around me. Some of our school friends have taken Annie to the side, consoling her with hugs as they all solemnly stared at me.

Suddenly I feel a light squeeze on my forearm, and look up to see Sylvia looking at me gleefully. "Our most recent tribute in District 4! Let's give her a round of applause, everyone!" She excitedly speaks into the microphone, clapping her gloved hands. Some people in the audience join, not out of excitement or joy, but rather out of respect. Or so I assume. I wouldn't know.

Clearing her throat, Sylvia begins, "Thank you! Now, onto the male tributes." She says gleefully, stepping over to the other glass bowl, repeating the same actions before dipping her hand in, fishing around for that one piece of paper. Once she found it, she walked back over to the podium, leaning over slightly. "And the male tribute from District 4 is... Beau Murland! A round of applause for him, everyone!" She shouts excitedly, clapping her hands once again.

Some people form an empty circle around a young boy, he must be no older than 14. He was stuck in place, his wide, innocent eyes staring ahead at the stage. Someone in the crowd poked him, fishing him out of whatever trance he put himself into. With small, timid steps, he made his way over to the stage, hugging himself.

Now that he was closer, I could see his features clearer. He had big, bright blue eyes that stared into your soul, soft wavy caramel hair, and sun-kissed skin. He just barely reached the height of my shoulder. He looked skinny and frail, like he barely ate. Sylvia quickly begins asking for any tributes, but no one speaks up. The mayor quickly takes over, beginning to speak out a memorised essay on the Treaty of Treason, as he does every year. It goes by quickly, and before I know it, me and the boy are being asked to shake hands, before the national anthem begins to play. From there, we're escorted by peacekeepers into the Justice Building, led to separate rooms before the doors are closed on me.

I sighed loudly, the initial shock having washed away like a morning breeze. I turned away from the door, and was welcomed by a grand, red room. The windowsills seemed to be lined with gold, glazing lazily in the sunlight that streamed through. There were curtains that extended all the way to the ceiling, probably made of some expensive material. In the middle of the room there was a couch and two armchairs, a coffee table separating all three. Further down, against a wall, a big chimney rested, but there was no fire crackling.

I seat myself down in the middle of the couch, gasping quietly at the sheer softness of it. To be honest, I have never felt such luxury. What was it? Velvet or something?

With a loud creak, the big wooden doors slid open, and I was greeted with the sight of my teary-eyed mother and trembling little sister. As the peacekeeper closed the door behind them, I stood up, not daring to move in fear of my legs trembling. Hali ran up to me, and her slender arms encircled my waist. Her tears stained my dress, but I didn't mind. 

My mother stayed a bit back, a pained expression present on her face. Her hand was covering her mouth, though I could tell there was a scowl on her face, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

"Why-" She paused, taking a deep shaky breath. "Why did you volunteer?" She asked quietly, yet still loudly enough for me to hear. I shook my head, closing my eyes as I felt tears well up. 

"I- I don't know. I had to." I respond, and my chest begins heaving up and down, and I begin to hiccup. "Annie has- she's helped us so much... I owe it to her." I say quietly, my hand caressing Hali's head. A loud sob escaped her lips. 

An exhausted sigh leaves my mothers' lips, and she sniffles.

"You don't owe her anything! It's normal for everyone to help each other out, that's how we live!" My mother shouts, hiding her face in her hand. "Y-you're just throwing your life away... If you hadn't volunteered, you'd be free." She says quietly, more to herself than to me. Her legs slowly begin moving, and she's quickly pulling me into a bone-crushing hug. 

The three of us stand there for a bit, just embracing and crying. Hali's sobs began to quieten down, but she's started biting down on her nails. "Hali, stop it. You'll hurt yourself." I mutter quietly, taking her hand into my own, squeezing it reassuringly.

She shakes her head, and more tears spill out. I pull away from my mom, and lead them to sit on the couch on either side of me. 

"Take care of yourselves, okay?" I asked, looking between the two as I caressed Hali's head. My mother nodded, her hand coming up to hold my cheek. "We'll be okay. And so will you. You have Finnick, he w-won his games right?" My mother asked, stumbling over her own words. I nodded my head, before leaning into her hold.

"I'll be okay..." I whispered brokenly. We sat there in silence for the remaining few minutes, exchanging hugs. As the peacekeepers escorted them out, I shouted 'I love you's' to them. My mother opened her lips to respond, more tears escaping her eyes but the door was slammed in my face before I could hear what she said. A strangled sob left my lips, and in a combination of frustration and stress, I kicked the door, slamming my fist against it with a strained scream.

After a minute or so, it opened again. 

I saw her fiery red hair first, bouncing up and down as she ran over to me, tears streaming down her face yet again.

"Y/n! Why?! Why did you volunteer for me?!" She shouted at me, shaking my shoulders. Her nails dug into my skin, and her eyes looked desperately into mine. 

"You didn't have to and you know it! What if something happens to you?! What if you get seriously injured or- or killed?!" Annie continued, leaning her head on my chest. Her voice was strained and hoarse. I held her in my arms, gently stroking soothing circles into her back, as I always would. After a while, she looked up at me, her eyes teary and her face flushed.

"I'll look after your mom and sister, I promise." She said quietly, resting her chin on my shoulder. "When you're in there-" She paused, taking a shaky breath. "You won't need to worry about them, okay?" She asked, her hand caressing the back of my head, the other caging me against her body.

I nodded my head, looking up to the ceiling as tears began to prick at my waterline, "I'd appreciate that, thanks." I say, my voice tender, barely above a whisper. 

I squeezed her tighter, and we sat there silently comforting each other until the peacekeepers returned, escorting Annie out of the room, just like they did with my mother and sister. For a minute or two, the room is completely silent. My breaths are shallow, and I've successfully stopped the tears from falling.

I won't cry. I can't cry.

I sit there for a while, and soon the doors open once again. For a moment I believe that the peacekeepers will take me to the car, but I'm faced with a much more disappointing sight.

"What are you doing here?!" I screech, my lips forming into a disgusted scowl. The sight of him made me sick. He was a tall, skinny man. His skin was saggy, hanging onto his body, and he was permanently stuck looking tired and sickly.

He took his hat off, twisting it between his hands. He sighed heavily, smacking his lips. For a moment, he said nothing. But then he began. 

"I- I came to wish you luck. Sweetheart, I know I hurt you, but you must know I still care about you." He said quietly, keeping his distance. "I know you don't want to see me, but I had to give you this." He said, stepping closer as he extended his hand to me, something green and golden glinting in his palm. I know what it is- 

"It was your grandmothers... I kept it after she passed away," He pauses, stopping in his tracks. His gaze shifts from anywhere, to my eyes, and I can see the pain in them. "She wanted you to have this, so take it, it'll keep you safe." He insisted, and had come close enough to place the bracelet into my hand. My heart swelled, and I became overcome with pain. 

After my grandmother passed, my scumbag of a father had packed his bags and left for another woman, leaving no trace of himself or my beloved grandma in the house. 

"I hate you..." I said quietly, my heart hurting too much to even be angry. I spun the bracelet in my palm, though slowly and gently, I was suddenly afraid that it would break if I held it too hard.

"I know, I know you do. But I needed to give you this. No matter how much you hate me, I still love you." My father says quietly, looking into my eyes hopefully. 

I shake my head, looking away. "Get out."

A gasp escaped his lips, and I raise my voice. "Get out!"

I can hear his footsteps moving away, but I'm not looking. Instead, I stare out the grand window, my arms crossed over my chest as my thumb massages over the bracelet. I can hear the door opening and closing, before I'm completely swallowed by a deafening silence. 

I swallow thickly, and a lone, strangled sob escapes my throat. I refuse to cry though, as he doesn't deserve my tears, or sympathy or gratefulness. I continue to stare out of the window, at the beautiful garden behind the Justice Building, until the peacekeepers come to retrieve me. I put the bracelet on though, afraid that I'll lose it otherwise.

The peacekeepers reappear after a short time, and escort me out to the car. When I arrive, the other boy is already sat there, twiddling with his thumbs, head hanging low. Next to him is sat Sylvia, the announcer and District escort, looking at a notebook as she busies herself with ticking something off. I seat myself next to her, and the door is promptly shut on me.

No words are exchanged, and the car ride is short and swift. 

The cameras are relentless and blinding. The crowds of cameras are thick, and refuse to make way for us. I look at the train ahead, patiently waiting for us to board it. And then I catch a glimpse of myself on a large TV screen. 

I look confused, shell-shocked. My eyebrows are scrunched together, the corners of my lips tugging downwards. The boy next to me, Beau, looks absolutely terrified. It is clear that he has been crying, his cheeks are freshly stained red, his hair unruly and tremors gloss over him from time to time.

The cameras continue to bombard us with clicking sounds and flashing lights, taking pictures of every angle until we reach the doors of the train. Sylvia instructs me and Beau to smile and wave, and even insists on me blowing kisses into the lenses. 

Eventually we're let onto the train, the doors behind us zipping shut. I have to take a moment to adjust to the barely-lit train cart, as I can still see the colourful lights flashing in my vision. I'm quickly pushed into another cart by Sylvia, who doesn't give us a moment to recollect our thoughts. 

Finnick and Mags are already there, sat waiting at a dining table. Sylvia ushers us forward, her heels no longer making that daunting clicky-clacking sound as she walks over a soft carpet. Finnick turns in his seat, his gaze instantly catching mine, observing.

I don't lift a finger, don't utter any words. Instead, I shift my gaze to look over the interior of the cart. There are large, crystal-clear windows, thick mahogany curtains embracing the edges, and golden ropes keeping the curtains bound to the sides. The carpet itself is also red, with golden lining travelling parallel on both sides as it extends into another cart. Most of the furniture is silver; chairs, table, sofas, cupboards. The wallpaper is a faint blue, with diamond shaped-patterns stretching out across the expanse of the cart.

A voice rips through the air, struggling. I look to the source of it, and notice Mags trying to speak. She gestures for us to sit down, and we reluctantly do so. Beau takes the empty seat next to Mags, whereas I have to sit next to Finnick. 

"So," Mags starts, taking in a breath, "How are y-you two feeling?" Her voice is quiet, croaky, and her accent is much more noticeable than mine or Finnick's.

I look to Beau, who stares at his hands. I look back to Mags, and manage a faint smile. 

"Not so good, but does anyone feel good after realising they're taking a train to their death?" I ask quietly, my smile faltering as I look away, rubbing my arm. She heaves a heavy sigh, moving around a bit. 

She coughs quietly, and it's evident that she is struggling to speak. 

"Me and Finnick are going to do our best, okay you two?" She asks again, her hand shakily moving to hold Beau's in a tight grip as we both see that the boy has started to tremble.

Beau takes in a deep, shaky breath, and shakes his head. "I don't want to die, I can't die. What will happen to my sister?" He asks, his free hand coming up to wipe away his tears. Mags has a big frown on her face as she moves her chair closer to Beau, holding him in her embrace. "You'll be okay, child. When Finnick was your age, he won the games. You can do the same." She reassures, clearing her throat as she shakes her head.

I look towards Finnick, and notice that his eyes are slightly puffy. His gaze is fixed on Mags, and he doesn't acknowledge me or Sylvia.

He's silent throughout the rest of the interaction, but his hand eventually inches downward, his fingers tracing the silver framing of my chair, dancing over it. I look down at it as Mags, Sylvia and Beau talk to each other, digging into their food that the kitchen staff had brought for us. All of a sudden, his fingers wrap over the framing, and pull on my chair until it's close enough for our arms to touch. Though it doesn't ease the constant ache in the pit of my stomach, it feels nice to have his skin brush mine, even if it's not romantic whatsoever. It's still enough to make my heart rate spike, and my breathing to become shallower. 

I turn to face him, looking at his eyes, but he's not looking at me.   

If he were to turn his head to look at me...We'd kiss.

I force myself to look away and towards Mags as I feel the heat suddenly rush up to my cheeks.

Turning to the trio, I tune in on their conversation. Mags was speaking quietly, just barely above a whisper. She was asking Beau about any special talents that he may have, and at that, Beau straightened up, dropping his cutlery, his face flushing instantly.

"I... I can sing." He responded, his voice as light as a feather, and a small, barely noticeable smile tugged at his lips. At that, Sylvia's eyebrows rose, and she looked up from her food, intrigued. "Well then, can you sing for us?" She asks, placing her cutlery down, placing her elbows on the table as she locks her hands together. So now she's paying attention.

"W-well, I don't know that many songs!" Beau exclaimed, an unsure laugh leaving his lips as he scratched the back of his head. "My mom taught me a few bits and bobs, b-but that's it really!" He continued, looking between Mags and Sylvia, before he turned to me, diverting their attention.

"Do you have any special skill? Uh-" He asked, pausing a little as he looked away, scratching at his chin. "Y/n, was it?" He looked to me, his eyes glinting with uncertainty. I nodded my head, biting down on some duck meat. I take a moment to chew, before replying with, "Yeah, uh, I'm not sure if it counts as a 'special' skill but..." I paused for a second, thinking of my answer. "I'm quite good at playing the guitar." I continue, looking down at my plate. 

I had gotten myself a rather large portion of a duck, some mashed potatoes and greens. I opted for a simple combination, as the chefs had brought more food than any of us could eat. It was so much better than any meal I have ever tasted, the duck was juicy and tender, melting away in my mouth. The potatoes were smooth and soft, with a hint of salt in them. 

Though I can confidently say it doesn't beat my mothers fish stew. Nothing beats home cooking.

 I feel Finnick shifting next to me, and from the corner of my eye I can see that he's looking at me. For a moment, I doubt that he'll say anything.

"I believe I've made up a plan." He says curtly, reaching for my hand. He takes hold of it, pressing the plush skin of my fingertips, scarred by numerous hours of practice, feeling how it springs back. Everyone's attention has turned to him, and nobody speaks. 

"For now, I believe that the best way to gain sponsors is for the two of you to stick together," He pauses, looking between me and Beau. 

"Beau. You're small, you're adorable. During your interview, Caesar will lead the conversation. It would be a good idea to offer to sing for the audience, if you're nervous." Finnick pauses, waiting for some sort of response from Beau. 

The boy nods, his big eyes gazing up at Finnick from underneath thick eyelashes.

Finnick then turns to me, his hand having shifted from my fingertips to the bracelet I was given just a few hours prior. He spun it slowly around my wrist, his eyes fixed on the object.

"As for you, Y/n, I think Caesar will be willing enough to make some... Accommodations." He states, his thumb glazing over the bracelet, tracing its' golden lining. 

"I'll speak to him beforehand, and ask him to prepare a guitar for you, so that you can play a song. It'll create a kind of 'connection' between you and Beau, the audience will love it." He finishes, looking up into my eyes. 

"How are we going to do that?" I ask, swallowing the shame I feel as he rests my hand on his thigh. "It's quite simple, really." He quickly replies. "With your guitar, you and Beau can work on a song together. I'm sure the editors will make a montage of sorts, pairing Beau's singing with your guitar. It'll make the audiences go wild." He finishes, and for the rest of the evening doesn't say add on much else, leaving the planning to Mags and Sylvia, with Beau and I occasionally butting in.

After all of us finish eating, and the conversation dries up, Mags quickly ushers me and Beau to our chambers, mumbling about how we're going to have a busy day tomorrow.

The silver doors once again zip shut behind me, but this time I'm left all on my own. All on my own to process the days' events, emotions and weariness. In my room, there is a simple bathroom, it is adorned with a pretty white porcelain sink, a cubed shower, and a large mirror.

There is a whole collection of soaps and shampoos to choose from, and I decide on a honey-scented soap, and a chocolate-scented shampoo. Chocolate is some sort of dark brown, squared treat that nobody in District 4 has even dreamed of. 

The walls are tiles in the colour of a deep red, and the ceiling light casts a golden glow on the interior, creating a false sense of comfort.

I stare at myself in the mirror as I strip, observing my skin, the different marks, moles and bruises that decorate it. I look at my face, noticing the deep shadows, or rather eyebags, that hang on the crease under my eyes, painting the area a darker tone of my skin. My hair, once a beautiful picture-perfect net impersonation, is now a tangled mess, and I hiss in my pain as I tug at the knots in it. This will be a long night, I think to myself.

A shiver runs down my spine as I step into the shower. The small cube-shaped space consists of clear doors, a porcelain seat of sorts and a tiled floor with a drain situated just below the showerhead. The water is at first scalding hot, burning my skin before I'm able to adjust the heat. After that, it's all bliss and comfort as I dip my head under the water, the droplets feeling like a warm summer sprinkle. I've never had a shower; those are only accessible to the wealthiest.

Usually, at least in my area of District 4, we have showers just outside of our houses, sheltered away from curious, and perverted, onlookers by four wooden walls and a roof. There is a pipe that connects to another pipe that connects to some treated water, and although it's freezing cold, it is much better having that than sea water. After spending hours on a boat fishing, or working at the harbour, many people grow to hate the salty wrinkles that take hours to completely disappear, only to reappear the next working day.

But this water is so much different. Warm and gentle, it detangles my hair, and cascades down my back, easing my sore muscles. I've never felt such luxury. Does everyone in the Capitol have access to this?

I lather my hair with the sweet shampoo, and have to fight off the urge to taste it. My fingers move across my scalp, rubbing the liquid into the roots. It takes a while to wash out, but I eventually get out of the shower, brushing through my hair with my fingers.

After I leave the bathroom, having washed myself and brushed my teeth, I feel as though I just left heaven. My muscles feel relaxed, my head is in a state of bliss.

As I sink into the bed, I am welcomed by the soft material of the sheets. The sheets wrap around me, my body melting into the soft mattress, swallowed by warmth and fuzziness. For a moment, I am stuck in that blissful state, but then my mind wanders.

Do Capitol citizens have access to this? Do any Districts have access to this kind of luxury? Is it 24/7, or do only the wealthiest have access? It doesn't seem fair. 

But I shake those thoughts away. After all, I will most likely be dead soon. It won't matter anymore, whether I suffer or not. Another tribute will probably kill me quickly and swiftly, ending my short-spanned life. 

The least I can do for myself now is enjoy the luxury that is being thrown so viciously at me. For the first time in my life, I've been able to go to bed with a full belly. For the first time in my life, I feel relaxed after washing myself. For the first time in my life, I can go to sleep without any pain, or hunger, or anything. Just bliss. Just comfort. Just luxury.

But that doesn't last long either. Oh, I forgot. Materialistic luxury is fleeting, sleep is the true luxury. But even now, as I'm trapped in this rich-laid room, I cannot afford the luxury of sleep. I twist and turn in the bed for what feels like hours, unable to sleep. 

My stomach twists into knots, and I soon have to take the duvet off of me, as I'm drenched in sweat. The stillness of the room allows my thoughts to wander. 

I'm scared. I'm absolutely fucking terrified. I just willingly threw myself into the hands of death. What was I thinking? That I can win the Games? That I can kill someone, let alone a child? Children?

I take in a deep breath, feeling as the air enters my lungs, and a shiver runs down my spine. The heat I was feeling just moments ago has dissipated, and I'm left a trembling, cold mess. 

I wrap the duvet over myself again, trying to contain the tremors. I'm shivering uncontrollably, my legs and arms twitching as I pull the duvet impossibly closer.

I start thinking of Hali and my mom. Of Annie, her tear-stricken face, the mess her flaming hair had become in her panic. I think of Finnick. Was he disappointed by the fact I had volunteered? Was he angered by it?

I couldn't tell. But it didn't matter in the end; I couldn't let Annie go into that arena. She was too kind, too gentle, too fragile. If there is a world full of those who deserve to be put into an arena, fighting to the death like wild animals, Annie isn't a part of that world. She took care of me after my deep-dive into the icy waters, helped my mother nurse me back to health, she took care of me when we were kids, provided me company and listened to all my secrets and grievances, helped me deal with my fathers sudden abandonment. And now has even promised to look after my loved ones as I willingly shove myself into a gruesome bloodbath.

I could never repay her. I could never repay her for all the things she's done for me and my family.

With a loud sigh, I sit up, clutching the bedsheets tightly in my fists. With the back of my hand I wipe away a few stray tears.

A cup of water sounds nice. 

I put on a bathrobe that has been hung in a fancy wardrobe, still shivering, I put on my fluffy slippers, and press a button. The doors in front of me zip open, shaking lightly as the train passes over something rough.

The corridors are dark, as only a single light shines. I trudge through the cart, sliding another door open. It's even darker in here, this cart being much longer than the one that carried Beau and I, and I think Mags and Finnick and Sylvia have their rooms in here. I quietly walk through, looking at the doors. Maybe Finnick is behind one of them, and if he is, then it's just my luck.

His silence at the dinner table was unnerving. I need to know what he was thinking.

There's two doors on my left, and one to the right. Any normal person would assume the left is for the ladies, right? With that, I gently knock on the door to my right, and I hear someone shuffling about, before the doors slide open and I'm standing face to chest with a shirtless Finnick Odair.

At my height, the tip of my head reaches just the top of Finnick's shoulders. Goddamn, was he always so freakishly tall? I slowly look up to him, my neck bending slightly. He's already staring at me, though there is haziness in those beautiful green eyes of his. 

He doesn't utter a word, and instead reaches for my hand - his skin is scalding hot against my icy hands - and he swiftly pulls me into his room, the doors sliding shut. I bump into his chest head-first.

"Are you okay, Y/n?" He asks, his voice as warm and sweet as honey. I almost melt on the spot, though the shivers continue travelling down my whole body. It takes me a whole minute to compose myself. He definitely knows I like him. My lips open and close, no words leaving, and I'm stuck. What did I come to him for again? With a sigh, Finnick gently takes a hold of my hand and leads me to his bed. As he sits me down on it, I notice that it is far bigger than mine. That's unfair. Though he is the 'Capitol darling'.

"C'mon darling, I'm waiting." He says softly, again. He stands in front of me, and I finally realise that I'm gaping at him like a fish. 

I take a sudden, sharp breath and shake my head. "Uh... I- I needed to talk to you..." I whispered, blinking slowly like a child. A soft smile tugs at his lips, and I instantly know that whatever mood he was in earlier, it's definitely gone now.

"So? To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" He asks, sitting down next to me. He sits criss-crossed, his knee digging into my side. He pulls me closer, rubbing my arm with his hand, muttering something about how cold I was. 

He sure was muscular. What did he do all day? Exercise? I doubt it.

I think for a moment, trying to finalise my words, but with a shake of my head, I decide to shoot straight. "Why were you so quiet at the dinner? I thought you'd be helping out more," I say softly, unsure of whether to continue or not. I look up into his eyes, and see a glint of softness shining in them, "I mean, I know what you're like... But- But it made me nervous..." I finish, looking away and instead choosing to focus on how the skin has begun to peel from my cuticles.

Finnick sighs quietly, his free hand reaching to hold my own.

"I wasn't angry with you, nor disappointed if that's what you're thinking." He states softly, and I swear my heart will collapse if he continues to be so sweet and soft. "It's just that-" He pauses, casting his gaze elsewhere, "I just couldn't imagine what you felt, when you volunteered." He says, gently stroking my hand with his thumb. "You're so good to Annie, you'd do anything for her. And I think it was really selfless." He finished. The words bounced around my head, the meaning completely avoiding any sort of understanding.

Another tremor goes through me, and I tuck my legs against my chest, teeth chattering.

My eyebrows scrunch up in confusion. 

"What do you mean? Annie's the amazing one, not me." I scoff. I shake my head, looking up at him. Just how delusional is he? Me? Selfless? Somehow I can't see how the two mix well together.

Finnick's grip on my hand tightens, and he heaves a sigh. "See, you don't actually realise just how kind you are. I mean- Y-You literally provide for Annie and her father. You helped me out so much, you listened to me when I needed an ear." He says, his tone shifting to a more annoyed one.

I look at him in disbelief.

"You're kidding, right? I mean-" I pause, releasing a shaky breath. "Y-you're the one that saved me. Annie's the one that took care of me. You think I wouldn't do everything in my power to repay you?" I asked, tugging my hand away. "You're being ridiculous, Finnick." I quickly add on, but Finnick completely ignores me, instead opting to change the conversation. 

I don't know if I'm genuinely upset by his words, or if it's the adrenaline that's rushing through me. I rub at my arms, frantically attempting to warm up.

Finnick doesn't reply for a moment, and as I stare at him, I notice how prettily his hair falls over his forehead, a few strands extending over his lash line. 

He sighs quietly, and turns to me again.

"We're not going to argue about this. I see no point in it, and you're clearly too anxious." He says, pulling me closer to his chest. I don't resist or pull away, instead I lean into his warmth. 

"I-I couldn't- I couldn't sleep." Softly I admit.

"I thought so... It would be weird if you were completely fine." He responded, his voice was like honey, dripping sweetly into my ears, warming my heart.

"I know it's weird of me to ask, but... Can I stay with you? Just for tonight, I promise." I ask, my gaze fixed on a hair strand that stuck out in front of my face. I don't hear a response, but Finnick doesn't waste a second to lift me up, moving the duvet before placing my body down on the bed, joining after.

"C'mon then, we don't have all night." He gestures to me, a cheeky smile on his face. That's the Finnick I know. I nod silently, and clamber further up the bed. Finnick pats the empty spot beside him, and as I join, he drapes the velvety duvet over the two of us, before his toned, muscular arm slides beneath my neck. He brings me in closer, and my face rests against his hot chest, the warmth radiating off him as if he was the sun. My own, personal sun.

"We're gonna be cuddling?" I ask, giggling slightly. The shivers have eased, though my hand is still quite shaky. Unsure of where to go, I rest my hand on his toned stomach, fingers itching to glide over his skin, to feel every crevice and stretch of skin that he can offer. I've never been this close to him... Am I going feral? What the hell?

Finnick chuckles in reply, and I feel him shifting slightly again. I look up to him, and notice that he's already staring at me, a toothy grin stretching through his lips. "If you have a problem with it, then I can sleep on the floor. That'd be more favourable, wouldn't it?" His voice is low and gravelly, but also husky and comforting, his hand softly stroking circles into the skin on my arm. I shake my head with a smile and thank him.

We sit like this for a while, just feeling each others warmth. It's much better than sleeping alone, that's for sure. Finnick's natural scent has long since invaded my lungs, but I feel myself becoming drowsy, enamoured by his every characteristic. The hand that was stroking my arm eventually stopped, but he never ceased to hold me tight to him, his nose stroking against my hair as he breathed softly.

No words were exchanged, and we laid there for hours. I would often drip in and out of consciousness, startling the two of us awake with a loud gasp. He would comfort me, realising that I was constantly having nightmares, and he would lull me back into sleep with his honeyed voice, whispering sweet nothings into my ears.

Eventually, Finnick moved positions, turning his body sideways, pulling me even closer into his chest - if that was physically possible. Now, with my face flushed against his chest, I could fully relax. It may have been a bit much, but I lazily draped my leg over his own, not thinking in my drowsiness. Though it seemed to help, as my breathing steadied and I almost lulled myself back into a dreamless sleep. Better than nightmares, at least.

Finnick's soft voice gently awoke me, but it sounded as though he'd also been dosed with the natural sleep syrup.

"It's just like back then, isn't it?" He asks sleepily, his voice raspy. His body had slid further down the bed until my nose rested against his neck, inhaling his sickly-sweet scent. I nod my head lazily, grunting out a throaty 'mmm' in response. I earned myself a chuckle, and a quick 'I'll let you sleep now', before I completely drifted out of consciousness.

I don't wake up again on that night, but slowly rouse myself awake as I feel the sunrays poking at my closed eyes. 

I can't move, as Finnick's arms grip my body, keeping me close to his own. For a while, I lay there, content with just laying with my eyes closed with Finnick holding me.

But the growing anxiety in my stomach gnaws at my nerves, and I can feel my pulse in my ear.

Though I try to fight it, I eventually raise my head, peeking over Finnick's broad shoulder. Still sleepy, I act before I can think. Placing my hand on his waist, I lean in close enough so that my nose nuzzles against his bicep, inhaling Finnick's sickly-sweet scent. It comforts me enough to settle my nerves. 

It's a surprise that I'm not sick of it already.

My eyes slowly flutter open, and I have to blink a couple of times to adjust to the light. The train is still moving, though now we're passing by a grand lake, surrounded by some mountains. Wherever we are at, it sure is beautiful. I look down to Finnick, and a startled sound escapes me as his eyes are already boring into mine, though tiredly. No matter the time of day or night, Finnick Odair will always find it in himself to dish out sarcasm. "Having fun, sweetheart?" He asks, though by the look in his eyes, I can see that he needs no answer.

I shake my head, feeling my cheeks flush out of embarrassment. Did he really just lay there? Whilst I literally nuzzled my nose against him? Am I crazy?! Or... Is he?

I can't form a single reply, and my mind goes blank. May the arena take me already.

"What? Cat got your tongue?" He nudges further, that toothy grin making a reappearance as the sun lazily glosses over his skin. I shake my head 'no', though still can't form a single sentence. I swallow heavily, and take a deep breath.

"Isn't it- Isn't it time?" I ask, feeling my brain short-circuiting.

"Time for what?" Asks Finnick, shuffling lightly. His voice is gravelly and husky from sleep. My fingers gently grip at his flesh, unknowingly. "That tickles y'know." He says, chuckling under his breath.

"What?" I ask, confused.

He doesn't say anything, but instead his gaze points towards my hand, his eyebrows rising slightly. My nails are lightly digging into his skin. I blink once, then I blink once again. As if he just burned me, I retract my hand instantly, hiding it behind my back. I take a deep breath, focusing on letting it out slowly. With an accusatory tone, I ask, "How long have you been awake?"

Finnick laughs, crinkles of skin appearing at the outer corners of his eyes, paired with the dimples that form whenever there is even the tiniest hint of a smile. "Long enough for me to feel you sniffing my arm." He admits, still amused. My face grows red, and I could swear steam was coming out of my ears. A shiver runs through me.

Before I can ask any further questions, or even think of a reply, someone's knocking on the door. Then, a panicked Sylvia Borgnino is speaking.

"Finnick? Finnick are you awake?! You better be!" She shouts, and Finnick swiftly gets out of the bed to open the door. His back is muscular and toned... Wow.

The doors slide open, and he asks, "Sylvia? Did you need anything?" Leaning lazily with his body against the doorframe.

"Yes! I did. I went to wake Y/n but she's not answering the door! Come and-" She pauses, as her eyes catch onto someone in Finnick's bed. "Is that-" She pauses, her fingers reaching up to massage her temple, taking a deep breath. "Is that Y/n?" Finnick slowly turns his head, locking eyes with me, he winks, before he nods, and turns back to Sylvia.

"Yeah, it is." He confirms, his head resting on the doorframe. "Did you need anything from us? 'Cause if not... Then I'll get back to what we were doing." He says, his voice raspy from sleeping, yet still soft and melodic. I can almost hear him smirking.

I can hear a gasp, followed by a, "Where are your manners, Finnick?!" Her tone is accusatory as I see Sylvia eyeing Finnick up and down, a clear scowl on her face. She huffs out a breath, and tiptoes to see over his shoulder.

"Hi...Sylvia?" I ask carefully, my voice light and high-pitched as I'm uncertain of what her reaction will be. Her eyebrows are scrunched up in disapproval, and she doesn't respond to me. Instead, she turns to Finnick, glaring at him with a glint of danger in her eyes. "You two better be ready in 20 minutes! If either of you are late I-" She exclaims, but pauses as she deliberates on what to say. "I'll make sure you two regret it!" And with that she leaves, her footsteps thumping down along the corridor.

"She seemed... Pretty angry." I say quietly, meddling with my bracelet, unsure of Finnick's own mood. Though he is quick to reply, an amused smile tugging at his lips. "She certainly is, she won't let us forget this for a while I don't think." He finishes, scrunching his nose at me, a smile now prominent. The crinkles beneath his eyes deepen with the scrunch, and his dimples make an appearance. I laugh quietly, covering my smile with my palm.

"No, no don't cover yourself honey. You don't need to hide your smile from me." He says, his voice hushed yet soft, as he crawls on the bed towards me. He maintains steady eye contact, and neither of us are willing to look away. If I were to look away now, I'd feel as though I've lost a battle.

I feel myself slipping away, drowning in his sea-green eyes, unable to escape. His gaze is hooded, his long eyelashes lazily fanning over his eyes. I blink rapidly, feeling my breathing becoming heavy. His voice, as sweet as Sleep Syrup, whisks me away back into the present. "Well then, shall we get ready?" He asks, now having laid his chin on my outstretched legs, his hands sturdily holding onto my calves.

I gulp, and nod my head, though neither of us move.

Finnick continues to lay still, his eyes boring into mine. I gently nudge him with my foot, which seems to get a reaction. He slowly rises back onto all fours, and proceeds to get off of me. He walks up to my side of the bed, hand outstretched. He wiggles his fingers, and that toothy grin returns.

"C'mon, I'll take you back to your room. Once you're done, I'll meet you in the dining room." He states, and I lend him my hand. He swiftly pulls me up and we proceed to my room. The walk isn't long, but I'm unwilling to let him go, fear flushing over my body like a wave.

"Finnick..."

"You okay honey?" He asks, not sparing a moment to think to respond to me, it felt very much instinctual. I hesitate, and decide not to pursue the topic. "Nevermind, it's okay. I-I'll see you in a bit." I smile unsurely, waving him away, although he remains still, his eyebrows scrunched up in concern.

"If you wanna talk, if there's something on your mind, you can tell me, Y/n." He says, his voice having taken on a serious undertone. I nod my head with a small smile and thank him, before I step into my room and the door slides shut, separating us.

I take a quick shower, the warm artificial rain slightly easing my nerves, I brush my teeth and change my clothes before I take one last look in the mirror. My hair looks fine, my teeth are clean, but I can still feel the rattling of my heart, the shakiness ghosting my legs, and the pricking of nails at my hands.

I shake my head, taking a deep breath. This is not the time, I think to myself, and exit my room.

The train is eerily quiet as it travels. It is much different on the inside than it is to the outside. Whenever I got to see a train, I was overcome with fear and anxiety, as it would travel awfully fast and make tons of noise. It would make me terrified and anxious, and although I'm on the inside of the train, those same feelings are now making an appearance.

I continue on, my feet shuffling towards the next cart, though I feel them becoming numb.

There is loud chatter coming from the room, and as I come closer, I can hear Beau telling a story, and soon I can see Finnick and Mags listening intently, giving their breadcrumb opinions on the matter at hand. As I enter the room, Beau exclaims a loud, "Y/n!", and everyone turns their heads. Mags greets me with a strained voice and a gentle smile as she smothers a piece of toast with a clumpy liquid, Sylvia and Finnick turn to me with smiles. 

"We've been waiting for you, Y/n. Come, sit with us." Finnick says as I make my way towards him, and I notice his smile from earlier is now gone. 

"We've been discussing the games, and everyone agrees on what course of action we'll take." Bringing up a steamy cup to her lips, Sylvia says before sipping on some black liquid. 

"If you want me to play the guitar then I'm gonna need to know what song I'll be playing to." I state quietly, lathering some toast in jam. 

My stomach twists and turns as I'm reminded of what's to come. 

The Games. The bloodbath. The paparazzi and the flashy cameras. I'm gonna be put up on display like a wild animal. I'm going to be placed in that arena, forced to fight to the death against twenty-three other tributes. I feel my stomach drop, and one of my legs begins to bounce up and down rapidly under the table. 

I might as well step off the metal plate before the gong sounds and blast myself to pieces. I remember watching a tribute in the Games a few years back. She was fiddling with something in her hands, trembling so much that she dropped it. It was far too late for her to catch it, because as soon as it hit the ground, she was blasted into pieces. 

I pitied her, though now I considered sharing the same fate. How ironic. 

Either way I'm trapped. I'm trapped in this train, I'll be trapped in the Capitol, and I will be trapped in the arena. 

The only means of escape is death. 

Finnick continues to discuss the plan with the others, and I'm able to get the gist of it. It's enough for me to realise he wants me to help Beau in the arena, which I don't have an issue with in and of itself.

The issue will be when we have to split up, or if we both end up getting through to the final showdown. What will we do? Fight each other? 

I lean back into my chair, abandoning the jam toast on a porcelain plate, barely having taken a bite out of it. I can't eat anymore, I don't want to. I swallow thickly, but notice how dry my throat has become. 

I take in a deep, shaky breath, and think of reaching for some water. 

Water. Water sounds nice. Reaching for it shouldn't be too difficult to do... Right? The bouncing of my leg has increased in speed. I feel goosebumps travelling down my arms.

I can't.

The cart feels so much colder now, so less spacious, and my hands and arms feel numb. I tune out the conversation in front of me, instead focusing on a faraway, high-pitched noise. Was that the train screeching against the tracks? Isn't it supposed to be silent? 

It starts off slowly; the trembling. A couple shivers here and there, but it soon turns into full-blown chills. They really must've crammed the air conditioning up. I look to everyone, from Beau to Mags, Sylvia to Finnick. But they all seem fine? Maybe- Maybe it's just me. My hands feel clammy, sweaty. I try wiping them on the long sleeves of my shirt, but the clamminess doesn't go away.

I need to get out of here. 

The walls feel too close, and my head feels heavy. I close my eyes, lifting a shaky hand to massage at my temple. My breaths are shaky. My leg doesn't stop bouncing. The shivers continue. 

Get up, get up, get up, get up!

My legs don't listen, and I bite down harshly on my bottom lip. Tears start pricking at my eyes, and I have to blink rapidly to get rid of them.

I hear a voice. 

It feels so close yet so far. 

The tears are now fully welled-up in my eyes, on the verge of falling. I bite down harshly on my bottom lip, feeling the skin crackle under my teeth. 

The iron taste of blood sits on my tongue.

I look around, anywhere. But I catch the gazes of everyone around me. They have stopped talking between themselves.

They've stopped talking? 

Why aren't they talking?

I look down at my lap, heaving in a shaky breath. It sounds as if I'm wheezing. 

"Y/n?" It feels distant, and I'm not sure who the voice belongs to. A warm hand nudges me, and I look up, seeing Finnick's sea-green eyes boring into mine.

There is a clear concern glinting across them, and his mouth is slightly parted. 

I can't breathe. I can't get enough air into my lungs. Why can't I breathe? 

Calm down, Y/n. Calm down.

But I don't calm down. Instead, I begin gasping for air, my chest shakily heaving up and down, the tears escaping like water from a broken dam. My cheeks flush, and I try to supress my sobs. I bring a shaky hand up to my mouth, shaking my head in the process.

I feel arms wrapping around me, and soon I'm scooped up into the air, my head resting against a sturdy chest. It's Finnick. 

In any other situation, I'd try to sniff his scent, or focus on the heat radiating from his body. But now, all I can do as I try to breathe, is cover my mouth. The sobs grow louder, and more tears slide down my cheeks. 

"Fuck... Fuck, fuck fuck!" I wail out, my knuckles aggressively wiping at my eyes. I'm not supposed to be crying. I'm supposed to be strong, I'm supposed to be tough.

My body bounces up and down as Finnick runs through the carts, eventually leading me into a room.

Finnick soon lays me down into some silky sheets, although I can't tell who's room I find myself in. 

My chest is aggressively heaving up and down, but I can't catch my breath. 

My chest feels tight.

I supress another loud sob. 

The room suddenly becomes dark, and I find some comfort in that.

"I w-wasn't-... I-I wasn't supposed to cry!" My voice is sickeningly high-pitched and drawn out, and I cry out, covering my face with one hand as I turn on my side, gripping the sheets tightly in my other one.

I can feel Finnick's hand softly caressing my hair, but I continue to cry.

His arms wrap up around me, and I can hear him telling me 'It's okay's'.

I manage to supress my sobs and wails, though my lips are tugged downwards in a scowl, my eyebrows furrowed and I'm pretty sure I look pathetic. Not strong, or tough. Just pathetic. And Finnick is witnessing all this.

"Get out..." I say quietly, a small sob leaving my throat. 

"What?" Finnick leans in closer, unable to hear me coherently.

"Get out!" I exclaim. "P-please get out!" I shout, though it's not as loud as I convince myself it is. "I don't want you to see me like this..." I insist, my voice hoarse and small. 

More sobs break out through me, and I feel more tears welling up in my eyes.

"Please... Just leave me alone-" I continue, wrapping my arms around myself. 

Finnick shakes his head, repeatedly saying soft 'no's'. I ignore him, my hands pushing away at his chest. 

Without a second thought, he scoops me up into his lap, forcing my face into his chest. My sobbing only becomes stronger, but it soon eases into soft hiccups as Finnick begins humming a lullaby, stroking my hair with one hand, cradling me with the other. 

I focus on the sound of his voice. 

His voice is so lovely... So soft.

I close my eyes again, grimacing as I let the tears flow.

It takes a while of Finnick humming and caressing me, but my breathing eventually steadies, with occasional, throaty sobs making me hiccup. I continue wiping aggressively at my eyes, but the longer that Finnick hums, the more I let them cascade freely, until eventually they stop and I feel the wetness of my eyelashes against my cheeks. 

We sit like this for a who knows how long, long after my crying has ceased. A scowl remains on my face, but I continue listening. It has been a long time since someone has comforted me like this... 

The last person I remember doing this... Is my grandma. 

She was a wonderful woman, though strict at times and painfully honest, she never failed to show me just how much she loved me. Guiding me through meltdowns as a child, in just the same exact way as Finnick is now.

"I'm tired..." I softly mutter to Finnick, hiding my face further in his chest. My voice is raw from crying, and my eyes slightly burn from all the salty tears and rough knuckles. Finnick's shirt is damp with them, but I don't think he minds it too much.

"D'you wanna sleep? I can stay with you if you'd like..." He whispers softly, his large hand coming down to caress the side of my face, his thumb lovingly stroking the apple of my cheek. I nod my head gently, and feel the tears trying to return, but I blink them away. "Okay, we'll take a nap, and then we can talk about what happened, okay honey?" He continues, his voice sounding as sweet as honey tastes. I sniffle quietly, and nod my head again, doubting that my voice is steady enough to talk more. 

Finnick lays us down on the bed, and drapes the duvet over me, his chest presses against my back. I close my eyes, and feel the drowsiness slowly lure me into a dreamless sleep.

@bambikitten @noisyalmonddreamer @avoxrising @honethatty12 @circe143 @dnpo1son @innercreationflower @lagrimasdepandora @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @lil-tracys @i-bitch-you-bitch @pinkigirl @yourdailymemedelivery @nexxus13 @ropickle @spilled-coffee-cup @zucchinimalfoy @l5byrinth @superbfishhumanoidweasel @whens-naptime @nordicvxid @luvrboiwonu @lili19080 @nojustn00 @antoheartit

𝐒𝐲𝐦𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬

𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐎𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (fem reader)

𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐨; @hashcakes , 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 <𝟑 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧-𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 (𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞) 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐲.

𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐮𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐚, 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

Pink waves grasped at the sand, their back and forth swishing easing your nerves.

You were at the beach, with your love, your husband, Finnick Odair.

It had been a couple of months at this point, after the Capitol was overthrown and President Snow was no longer. Though the Capitol was gone and all citizens of Panem had seemingly integrated into one, equal society, the scars and marks that you had been left with did not go away as easily.

When you had arrived at District 13, you could barely utter a word, barely look up from your wounded palms. It had taken Finnick just over a month to get you to look at him, to let him hold you, and even more to get you to speak. But when you did, he cried of joy. He had asked you carefully if he could embrace you, and kiss you.

The Capitol did not only take away your voice, but they took much more than that. Your love for the seas.

You remember it vividly; eyes covered by a mask until you only saw darkness, the electrified currents rushing through your muscles, tightening the tissue like a rope. All the while all that your ears could register were your pleading, muffled screams, along with the sound of waves crashing agains the shoreline.

It was all that haunted your nightmares for the next year or so, coming back with dripping fingers, taking you deep down into the void.

When you were rescued, you had to be sedated in fear of becoming a danger to everyone else.

Quickly after waking up, you had been informed that Peeta had brutally attacked Katniss, strangling her to near death. You understood his actions and what drove him to them, and you wished that the young boy would recover quickly, although now you were well aware that these kinds of scars will never truly heal, never fully disappear.

Lost deep in thought, you failed to notice how Finnick's muscular arms wrapped tightly around you, his chin resting on your shoulder as he nuzzled his nose into your neck.

His deep, hushed voice whispered, "What are you thinking, my love?" It never failed to send a pleasurable chill down your spine. Melting into his embrace, your eyes fluttered shut, your head leaning to his.

"Just... About the water," You paused, releasing a soft sigh, "It looks so calm, so safe, and yet I'm still so, so afraid."

You felt Finnick's fingers feeling the soft material of your sundress, rubbing it between the pads of his fingers.

His voice was soothing, dripping with sweetness as he spoke, "We can go back, love. You don't have to do this."

You shook your head. "I need to do this."

He nodded his head, slightly lifting his head to place a kiss on your cheek, his hands caressing your waist. He then slowly let go, one of his hands travelling to your shoulder, then down your arm until his fingers interlocked with yours, fitting perfectly like a key in a lock.

"Let's get this over and done with then."

You smiled softly, though it didn't quite reach your eyes.

You stood a good couple of feet away from where the water met the sand, and yet your heart was still rattling like a wild bird in a small cage.

Finnick was trying something called 'Exposure Therapy' on you, as suggested by a doctor from 13. It involved you and the water. It took you a long while to be okay with showers, however the bathtub was not an option. That was something you couldn't overcome in your short time in the hospital.

Though now, as Finnick encouraged you to face your deepest nightmares, you felt grateful to at least be able enough to listen to and to watch the waves.

It used to be your most favourite thing to do in the world, and Snow took it away with just a lift of his finger.

Eyes heavily trained on the water, your mind had gone blank. Your lips slowly opened, stuttering over complete silence. You heard Finnick chuckle, and felt his body shake. He turned wholly to you, placing his free hand on your cheek, gazing into your eyes lovingly.

"I'm here, love. We're in District 4, standing on our favourite beach, watching the sea." Finnick said slowly, voice hushed as his eyes searched yours. "As long as I'm around you'll always be protected, always be safe." He continued, placing a tender kiss to your lips, and you leaned in, butterflies fluttering around in your stomach.

As the two of you parted, you nodded your head lightly, gaze never leaving his.

A soft smile stretched across his face, his teeth gently peering through the gap between his lips. His dimples were also peering through, and you felt the urge to touch his face, to feel his skin on yours.

"Now, we'll go into the water, is that okay?" He asked, but you didn't respond. You didn't nod or shake your head, you didn't utter a single word. All you could do was swallow down your fear, and shakily grip his hand.

Finnick's free hand came to hold the side of your face again, his own face coming closer and closer, until your foreheads touched and your eyes were closed, listening intently to the sound of the waves, the sound of his voice.

"I've got you darling. You're safe." He continued, and pressed another kiss to your lips. Your grip on his hand tightened, and your free hand travelled up to his hair, gliding through the golden locks, down to his cheek.

Your hand caressed his sun-kissed skin. You didn't open your eyes, and instead squinted them shut as you felt the fear creeping up your bones.

"Look at me honey, I need you to show me that you know you're safe." He says, nudging your nose with his. "I'm gonna be with you every step of the way darling. With me around you ain't got nothing to be afraid of." He whispered softly, his hand squeezing yours back as he took two steps back, pulling on your hand.

Your eyes fluttered open, and you could feel your breath beginning to hitch as you moved two steps forward.

You could feel your heart stop for a moment, before it began to hammer again. With a deep breath, you nod your head.

"You'll keep me safe, Finn."

At that, the corners of his lips curled upwards, his dimples coming back. You trailed closely to him, leaving an arm's length between your bodies.

The sand beneath your feet was soft, still dry as you trudged forward, coming closer and closer to the foamy, pink waves. You slowly looked up, and with laboured breaths, you noticed how pretty the cloudy sky was.

The rising sun casted a candy cotton colour to the skies. The rays gently grasped at the horizon, and you stumbled for a moment, your breathing calming as a light breeze took a hold of your hair, pulling it as it went past you.

A soft smile appeared on your lips, and you felt a snap of confidence rush through your veins. In the corner of your eye, you saw Finnick turning back to look at you, his small footsteps coming to a stop as he allowed you to absorb the beauty of the morning sky, his eyes softening at the sight.

You looked to him, grinning a toothy smile as you gave his hand a tight squeeze. With a nod of your head, Finnick began moving again, tugging you towards the water, his warm hand embracing yours.

At first, you only felt the tame licks of coolness against your feet. The confidence you felt quickly evaporated.

You felt terrified, heart pounding against your chest with a long-known fervor, but you also felt the smallest bit of comfort.

It reminded you of how you and Finnick would run into the water, swim into the unknown depths without a single bit of fear. Back when you were kids, back when you were safe from the ghastly tentacles of the Hunger Games.

Now, as you stood there, your mind was at war. More water began lapping at your feet, dragging soggy sand over your skin lazily.

"Is this okay?" Finnick's soft voice ripped through the air, and you looked up, seeing how he was standing over you protectively, hands ready to lift you effortlessly and get away from the sea. His golden locks bounced in the sea breeze, the sun shone behind him, highlighting his honeyed skin.

"Y-yes, it feels... Strange. But I can stand it." Your voice was merely a whisper, and it tugged heavily at Finnick's heartstrings. He looked you over, noting how gorgeous you were in your white sundress, miniature sunflower patterns decorating the entirty of the fabric. Your feet had dug deep into the sand beneath, your legs frozen still, unmoving.

"Can you go any further?" His voice was sweet, steady and full of love. You nodded your head, but struggled to move. Finnick took note of this, and his arm easily wrapped around your waist, guiding you forward. "We can stop at any point, just give me a sign."

The more steps you took, the more numb your limbs became. The water was cold, freezing cold. The sand mostly smooth, though a couple round stones and seashells dug into the soft skin of your feet, lessening as you walked further into the sea, the water rising gradually.

It's when the two of you reached far enough for the water to lap at the hem of your dress that you singalled for Finnick to stop. The waves were much larger, swaying your bodies upwards, but they were also much gentler at this distance. A blanket of darkness enveloped you, and you felt a trickle of sweat falling down the side of your forehead, numerous shivers going down your spine.

Your breath stuttered, and your eyes focused on the water, your muscles cramping.

Finnick stood behind you, placing his warm hands on your hips. He placed soothing kisses to your neck, his fluffy hair tickling your cheek. If it wasn't for him, you'd already be crying hysterically.

His embrace was warm and secure, comforting and mellow. His kisses softly ghosted over your skin, and his hands secured you into place, ready to whisk you away at any moment.

The two of you stood like this for a long while, enjoying each others warmth, feeling the gentle sway of the waves, and your heart eventually calmed, slowly but surely. The waves remained steady, passing by you as though you were nothing but a phantom.

Slowly, your feet began to move, until you were waist deep in the water, eyes closed in concentration, Finnick holding you tightly. Your mouth was dried up, and your eyebrows furrowed in worry, stress cursing through your veins, pulsing like your heartbeat.

"You're doing great, love," Finnick softly muttered, grazing his skin against your own, arms wrapped around your torso to keep you warm, his fluffy hair tickling your face. "You're doing so good, keep going." His voice eased your nerves, and slowly but surely, your shoulders relaxed, and you released a shaky breath.

"Thank you Finn, thank you." You whispered, and you fought hard to open your eyes, but the wet sensation of tears had stopped you. You began to sniffle softly, and soon you felt the tears escaping your closed eyes, sliding down your cheek.

Finnick's thumb quickly wiped the first stray tear away, but more poured out. Your quiet sniffles turned into hiccups, body shaking with every breath you took, with every movement of the waves. Finnick gently lifted you up, carrying you away from the water, until you were safely seated in the soft sand, far out of the waters reach.

"I'm sorry..- I- I couldn't do it, Finnick." You sobbed out, tightly gripping his white T-shirt in your fist, crumpling the soft material.

Your meek, silky tears were cushioned by his shirt, his hand caressing your back with delicate strokes.

"It's okay honey, you did so well today..." Finnick softly muttered into your ear, his voice helping to ease your guilt. You knew how desperate he was to go swimming with you again, to be able to explore the kelp forests and spend day and night relaxing in the waters.

"I'm so so so s-sorry.." You continued, and laid in his arms for a while, until the tears dried up and you were left laying in his lap, watching as the sun made its way higher up into the sky, the sea gently swishing back and forth.

You had been there for hours, silently watching.

You could feel Finnick's stomach begin to rumble, and you shifted in his lap, leaning your head back to look at him.

His eyes were boring into the sea, watching with furrowed brows as he was lost in thought.

"Finn... Finnick," You whispered, your fingers gently tracing his jawline, "I think it's time to go, I can hear that you're hungry."

He blinked a few times, inhaling deeply as he looked down at you.

"Are you sure?" He asked, unsure and unwilling to leave the comfortable spot.

You nodded your head, lightly sitting up but his arms stopped you.

"I think Johanna might be bored of looking after the baby." You spoke with a smile, and Finnick reciprocated with a toothy grin of his, shaking his head lightly.

"Oh she loves our boy, she's always calling asking to come see us." He said sweetly, his grin having turned into a soft smile.

"Fine.. We need to stop by the market anyway, we've barely got any food." You said, leaning back on your hands, sitting between Finnick's spread legs.

"I can go catch something, you know. Maybe some abalone or something, like we used to." Finnick said, trying to convince you.

You didn't need much convincing though, as you knew how much he wanted to go back into the water. Maybe someday you'd be able to join him again.

"Off you go then, but don't be too long, and- and be careful. Okay?" You asked, eyebrows furrowing in worry, lifting your hand to caress his cheek.

Finnick leaned into your touch, the soft smile remaining on his face as he nodded.

"I won't be long, I promise."

With that, the two of you stood up, and you embraced each other. Your arms wrapped around his neck, Finnick's hands finding their rightful place on your waist.

The two of you shared a deep kiss, lips moving together in sync as you smiled, feeling your heartbeat speed up.

The wind tugged at your hair, invisible fingers stroking through it as it flowed by.

Finnick's hold on you tightened, and you felt him inhale deeply, his feet shifting in place. You smiled into the kiss, and felt his tongue dart out slightly, ghosting over your bottom lip.

Your fingers curled into his hair, tugging smoothly at the roots, eliciting a groan from him.

You parted from him, hands leaving his hair, coming down to his shoulders.

His lips chased yours for a second, eyes shut as he nudged your nose with his.

You allowed him one last peck, and then moved your face further away, forcing Finnick to open his eyes.

"Go on, I'll be here, waiting." You spoke softly, the smile on your lips finally reaching your eyes.

Finnick nodded with heavy lidded eyes, his lashes casting pale shadows over his cheeks.

"Fine, but you owe me one more kiss." He stated quietly, his hand flying up to the back of your head, keeping it in place as he stole a passionate kiss from your lips.

He then let go, saying a soft, 'I'll be back in a bit', before he stripped his shirt, handing it to you as he flexed his muscles.

You laughed out loud, head hanging back. He truly never failed to make you laugh.

With one last hug, Finnick proceeded to jog off towards the water, his body disappearing further beneath the waves until you saw him dipping under, for a long while.

You sat in the sand, eyes trained on the water.

He would make a reappearance from time to time for some air, before he'd dip back in.

It took him a long while, but eventually he returned, swimming up to the shore with pocketfuls, one hand grasping a whole bunch of abalone.

You raised your eyebrows in bewilderment, extending the corners of his shirt to create a makeshift basket.

Finnick dumped all of the creatures into it, and you tied the ends together, a gleeful smile on your face. "You sure got a lot." You said, shaking your head at him.

Finnick grinned at you, and you looked him over, from his dripping hair to his toned chest, to his shorts.

There was one more, rather large, shell poking at his pocket.

"I think you forgot some there." You pointed out, and Finnick shook his head with a smile.

"This one isn't for eating," he stated with a laugh, his hand reaching into his pocket to retrieve a snail shell, "It's for you." He said softly, handing you the object.

You looked over it, your fingers tracing the intricate, dark red patterns embroidered into the shell. The overall colour was a faint rosé pink, one of your favourite colours. It felt hard in your clutch, but sturdy and strong.

You brought the shell, or rather conch, up to your ear and listened.

After a short moment, you heard the distant sound of wind echoing through the conch. It sounded much different to the breeze present at the beach, but it was calming, comforting.

You looked up to Finnick, unable to hide your smile.

"It's beautiful... H-How did you find it?" You asked, surprise lacing your voice.

"I looked far and wide for it, I wanted to give you something to remember today," Finnick muttered, his voice gravelly and deep as he tried to catch your gaze, "You did so well today, and I want you to know that I'm so proud of you darling."

He spoke softly, and reached a hand up to your chin, lifting it so that you'd look at him.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you shook your head with a smile. Reaching on your tiptoes, you placed a tender kiss to his lips, feeling how his hand embraced your cheek.

"Thank you Finnick. It's beautiful," You whispered after the two of you parted, feeling the shell in your palm, "I love you so much."

His toothy grin stretched across his cheeks, and Finnick shook his head, gazing at you lovingly, his fingers stroking mellow circles into your waist, "I love you more darling."

𝐄𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐎𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (fem reader)

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑

𝟓.𝟏𝐤 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝 (𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬) 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏, 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 𝐀𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐥, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲, 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜? 𝐀𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬. 𝐈𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐂𝐚𝐞𝐬𝐚𝐫 𝐅𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬..

Crystal water swallowed me within its' jaws, rubbery kelp fluttered against my body as I swam through, observing the numerous bubbles that toppled their way towards the surface. I felt a childlike laughter erupt within my chest, and as I let it out with a cheshire grin on my face, I was met with a surprise.

Normally I'd have to swim back up to the surface, refill my lungs with oxygen before I could continue cruising away, but not this time. As the air escaped me, I didn't feel myself suffocating, didn't feel that familiar burn. Instead, I breathed the salty seawater in, as though it was the freshest, crispiest air I've had the pleasure of coming across.

Though the initial shock wore off quickly, and I soon found myself freely floating, spinning around, exploring deeper and deeper until I felt the grainy sand rub against my feet, wafting upwards as my feet dug into it momentarily.

In the far away distance, a speck of gold caught my attention, lingering just behind a boulder. It flowed in the water, casting some sort of spell on me.

As I neared it, a pair of emerald eyes came into view, inspecting me with a tinge of inquisivity.

The closer I got, the more I could see, and subconsciously I knew who it was; I just couldn't recall his name. It felt as though I had known him all my life, and yet I've forgotten him.

His tan skin glinted in the green hue of the water, his grin revealing a row of perfect, pearl-white teeth, his hands gripping onto the boulder which separated us.

I swam closer, placing my hands gently against the cool surface, nearing my face to his with a smile. Our noses almost brushed against each other, his hand coming up to cup my cheek, eyes searching mine lovingly.

A sudden shadow swept over us, and he no longer had that smile plastered on.

His eyes lost that starry spark, and were instead filled with an empty void.

I looked to him, his name leaving my lips, but I couldn't hear it.

I couldn't hear my voice.

I couldn't hear myself.

A burning sensation erupted in my chest, pricking against soft tissue like needles on skin; pricking and tearing.

I looked to the boy, my heart rattling against my chest as the burning intensified. A wildfire under water.

My limbs moved on their own, searching for the source of the sun rays, and my body moved upwards, until he gripped my ankle.

I didn't dare to look down. My feet were kicking violently, arms thrashing as I tried to swim, coughing and inhaling more salty water.

The grip on my skin began to crush at my bone, bruising the skin in shades of pinks and purples and yellows as though it was a canvas. My gaze slowly dropped down, eyelids fluttering as I felt the temperature drop, embracing my body in an icy hold.

"Y/n..." A honeyed voice whispered to me, resonating within the stillness of the water.

I could no longer see the sand, or the kelp. Only those eyes, his eyes. Swallowing me into a void filled with nothingness, my screams and thrashes more futile with each pull.

He pulled, and pulled, and pulled. He pulled until my body was trapped within his steel embrace, his nose ducking to hide in my neck, his hands gripping at my arms until all my thrashing ceased, until my eyelids fell over my eyes, darkness falling over me like a frosty sheet.

"Y/n? Wake up." His voice reached my ears, and my eyes snapped open. My breathing laboured, palms sweaty, heart startled.

"Hey, you need to wake up now." Was that Finnick? Why did he sound so... nervous?

I turned around, towards the direction that his warm, soft hand came from, and saw that he was leaning over my body, concern rippling across his features.

"Finnick? What's wrong?" I muttered, bringing a lazy hand up to my eye. I felt my gut twist, and my heart dropped as I remembered. "Are we there yet?"

Finnick confirmed with a nod, his lips pressed thinly together, hand holding me still. His mouth opened, and closed, like he was at a loss for words. With a shake of his head, he released a tired sigh, rubbing his hand over the side of his face.

"We're almost at the Capitol, Mags and Sylvia need you to be dressed and ready," He paused, inhaling deeply, "They want you and Beau to go wave at the citizens."

At that, a snort left me.

"You're being ridiculous. They want to parade us before the show's even started?" I asked, raising my eyebrows at him.

"Yes, yes they do. That's what I did, and that's what the two of you will do." Finnick confirmed, a tint of annoyance lacing his tone. "I need you to get dressed, alright? You think you can do that for me?" He continued, lowering his face so he could keep level eye contact, his voice a low baritone drumming against my ears.

With an uncertain nod of my head, I released a sigh. "Look- Finnick, I- I'm sorry for- you know, for earlier..." I said, stumbling over my words as I felt another emotion get added into the swirl in my gut.

Finnick's hand rose up to wave me off, and he refused, insisting that it was 'fine' and 'totally understandable'.

"Anyone in your place would have done the same." His voice soothed me, his hand giving me one last squeeze before he rose from my bed, heading towards the door. Just before he was going to leave, he halted, his hand lightly pressing against the door frame, eyes casted down and away from me.

Then, he turned to me again, the glint in his eyes hardened over like stone.

"Look, I will do everything, and I mean everything, in my power to help you. To bring you home." He said, quickly turning back to the door as he pressed a button, the medal doors sliding open. 

"For Annie."

He didn't mean for me to hear it, but I did. And my heart felt as though it was about to shatter into a million pieces as I showered, the warm droplets of water covering my own, thick, salty tears.

The ride to the Capitol didn't take as long as I had expected; it was rather mind-numbing.

As soon as the train had breached through the stone gates, my eyes were bombarded with a flurry of colours; vibrant pinks, oranges, yellows, and so on.

It was ridiculous, the citizens looked almost delirious as they hollered and cheered when Finnick appeared, his face displayed across every single TV screen at the station.

The train had significantly slowed down, enough for some brave citizens to stick their unnaturally coloured hands on the crystal clear glass, leaving smudges and wet, sloppy tear stains as they chased after Finnick, screaming, begging and pleading for at least a glance.

Finnick, of course, didn't disappoint.

Flashing a pearly-white, toothy grin, his dimples on display, his ember eyes had looked directly at the cameras, his body being put on film as the cameras scanned down from the tip of his luscious golden locks, to his torso and more.

This was all just part of the plan. Part of the games.

I had looked up at him in that moment, noticing how that toothy grin, the one I loved so much, hadn't reached his eyes at all.

Maybe if Annie had been there, maybe if he could look after her, he'd seem more joyful.

Or worried.

I remembered how he'd smile so brightly every time she'd enter the room; as though she was the moon to his sun. He never failed to make some form of physical contact with Annie, whether it was pretending she had something in her hair, or holding her hand as he would lead us somewhere, me being left behind, of course.

Maybe if Annie was here instead of me, Finnick would have a better support for his own struggles. 

Not that Annie would be completely okay, but the two were much better together than apart. During my long friendship with them, I have come to learn that they often snuck out together, going on long walks on the beach, or simply walking around the edges of town, to avoid detection.

I remember seeing the two together as I was on my way home after another visit to the seals. 

They were laughing so, so loud,  it was a surprise that no one had heard them. They were causing a ruckus, splashing one another with water, golden rays of sunshine illuminating their bright, infectious smiles. 

That day, I witnessed the two almost kiss, though Annie had prevented it. From the treeline, I could just about make out the furrow between her eyebrows, and the way her lips moved so animatedly. Finnick had responded with a shake of his head, and I almost pictured a cartoonish question mark pop out of thin air, right above his head.

I didn't linger long enough to listen in on their conversation though; my mind was swirling with stormy rain clouds and thunder.

I always knew the two would fall for each other, but I guess a small part of me still hoped for Finnick to return my hidden affections.

Oh well. 

That evening, on my way home, I had released my anger, my frustration, and most of all, my pain, by kicking a boulder until my ankle had swollen over with excruciating pain.

Whatever. 

It didn't matter anymore, I was going to be dead soon enough anyway.

With a shake of my head, I pushed the memory away, my heart stinging just the smallest bit more, tears pricking at my eyes as I side-hugged Beau, putting on my prettiest smile for the cameras.

The rest was a blur, and as I sat in the cold, grey room, all that my mind could focus on was the strange sensations on my skin.

My prep team, who were no better than your average Capitol citizen, had smothered my body in sticky, sweltering wax, mercilessly ripping out my hair by the roots.

They wore sinister grins, their voices an unnaturally high pitch, gasping at the amount of hair they'd managed to rip out in one go.

They had pricked at my eyebrows with a small pair of tweezers, cut my nails, washed and brushed my hair, and then lathered my body in expensive-smelling oils. They eased the burning and dry sensations that the wax had left, flooding my nose with the faintest scent of lavender.

Once they had deemed me to be ready, they left the room in a flurry, leaving me shivering in a paper-thin blue gown.

Like a sitting duck, I took a moment to observe my surroundings; grey stony walls, a surgical table, and an empty stationary table. My prep team had taken great care to take all of their tortuous equipment, leaving me completely and utterly defenceless.

What if my stylist was dangerous? What if they tried something, and I defended myself?

Capitol punishment.

The grey walls seemed to have cracks all over them, expertly hidden under the dim lighting of the room. Had previous tributes tried to break free? Had they smashed everything this small room could provide?

I could imagine some of them, the tallest and the strongest, flipping the strange surgical table I was sat on top of, into the nearby walls in a fit of rage.

In a fit of panic, of horror.

Of helplessness.

A shiver ran down my spine as I imagined the previous years' largest and highest rated tributes, reduced into raging balls of fear and anxiety, clawing desperately at any semblance of security. 

Or maybe they weren't raging or violent, maybe they were simply diminished into cowering marbles of apprehension.

The doorknob clicking open had caught my attention, my head turning to follow the sound. 

A young man came through, a stone-cold expression gracing his features. His jaw was sharp, pulling in smoothly to his plump, peach pink lips, his nose almost as sharp. His eyelids sparkled, and his eyes had an unnaturally honeyed tone, each blink of his eyelids uncovering amber stones. 

"The name's Hazel, I'll be your stylist for this year's Hunger Games." His voice was velvety smooth as he quirked an eyebrow, looking me up and down with an almost patronising gaze. 

I thanked the heavens above for not letting my mouth droop open as I gaped at the man. I had never seen anyone like him, so glamorous, so.. Confident? I couldn't tell whether it was confidence or pure assholery as he finished looking me over, turning to look back as the door opened once again.

"C'mon, hurry up now, I don't have all day for this." Hazel snapped out, a vein popping on the side of his temple as he scolded a pair of peacekeepers, totally unfazed by the heavy guns that they were carrying in one hand each.

The other hands were preoccupied with carrying a large, raven suitcase. From how they heaved, I could tell it was packed with heavy tools. 

As soon as the suitcase touched the floor, Hazel barked orders at them, telling them to get out. 

And once the door had closed, he turned to me, his lips no longer pulled into a purse, and his alluring eyes all the more softer. "Now honey, would you like to come help me get this up?" He asked, his tone smooth like butter.

With a small nod, I got up, helping the man bring the suitcase on top of the table I'd just been sitting on. 

"Holy Mary, what the hell is in that bag?" I looked over to him, my eyes wide and unblinking, arm numb at my side. Hazel huffed out a breathy, snappy laugh, ignoring my question as he reached to open the suitcase.

"This, my dear, is a sewing machine, and those are my fabrics." He pointed with his finger, leaning over to rub the numerous coloured fabrics between his thumb and pointer finger. "You'll see what kind of hocus pocus magic I can do with these soon enough."

My eyes trailed over the fabrics, the different types of needles and threads, all in various colours that I had only seen on rainbows and TV screens, never on the clothing that we had in District 4. 

"Now tell me, are you scared of electricity?" Hazel asked, having leaned his face closer to mine, his sharp eyebrows and hooded eyelids casting a dark shadow over his golden orbs. 

"Hazel never ended up telling me his plans for my parade outfit," I spoke softly to Mags and Sylvia in between spoonful's of a creamy seafood soup, the familiar and yet strange taste of crab lingering on my tongue, "But he did choose out 'Lilac purple' and 'Electric blue' fabrics for my dress." I said with a shrug, eagerly reaching over for a fancy piece of bread called a 'garlic baguette'. 

It was heaven on Earth for my rumbling, exhausted stomach.

Hazel had kept me in that room for longer than I thought, having matched different colours to my skin tone, exclaiming excitedly about how different colours and shades had brought out the best or the worst features on me. 

"So you're telling me he didn't utter a single word to you about what you'll be wearing?" Sylvia asked, rubbing her pointer finger over the plump skin of her bottom lip. 

"Oh, he did ask me if I was scared of... Electricity?" I asked, hesitantly, my hand faltering in the air as I stopped eating the soup. My eyes wandered between the creamy, white liquid, and Sylvia's clouded eyes. 

From the corner of my eye, I could see Beau scarfing down his food, traces of a chocolate liquid visible on the corners of his mouth, his fingers lathered in some sort of oily liquid as he chomped down happily on a piece of deep fried chicken.

A small smile tugged at my lips; the boy was absolutely adorable. His curly locks had been tied into a small, palm-like ponytail to avoid it getting in his eyes, or worse, his food. He wasn't defensive or protective over his food, but his pearly blue irises shined with a newfound eagerness to try out all of the dishes that the Capitol had to offer.

Finnick himself joined in on the conversation once he had finished eating, his cheeks puffed up and stuffed with food, like that of a hamsters'. 

"I assume it will be something similar to what they have in mind for Beau, right?" Finnick asked, looking between everyone seated at the table. 

Earlier, he had muttered something about not having the stylists here and how it was so strange, though it hadn't mattered 'too' much, he had said sarcastically. The business of the stylists could only either make or break the tributes, after all. 

"I- I want to... T-to sleep." Mags rasped out, her voice strained and throaty as she massaged her throat, clutching her armrest to stand up. Finnick rushed to her side, his hands gently offering support to the woman, a warm smile gracing his face and a glint of worry in his eyes.

I took in a deep breath, lifting the bowl of soup to my lips to ensure I finished the whole thing, before I looked to Beau. "C'mon little man, let's go sleep now, alright?" I asked, though my voice seemed to sound so foreign to my ears now.

Beau turned his head to me, eyes looking up in confusion. 

"Y/n? Are you okay?" Concern laced his tone, and the boy placed down his fruit desert, wiping his hands on the table cloth. 

His concern was valid, as I felt dizzy as soon as I stood up from my chair, a numbness made my legs sway like the dessert I had back in the train cart, jelly. 

"I-I'm fine Beau, come on, let's go." I said, my hands gently taking a hold of his shoulders as I led him to his room. My head swayed, and I found myself leaning on Beau for support instead. My chest heaved up and down, and it felt as though there was a certain weight squeezing my lungs. But it didn't... Hurt?

The sound of footsteps made its way to my eardrums, but before I could move my head to look, a voice followed, and I instantly recognised it as belonging to Finnick. "Beau, what's wrong?" His voice seemed so close, but so far away as I felt him place a warm, reassuring hand on my shoulder.

Whatever Beau replied with, it had caused Finnick to place his other hand on my forehead, his eyes shooting me a concerned look as Finnick muttered something. 

"D-Don't... touch me." I muttered, taking my hands off of Beau's shoulders, which proved to be a bad decision as my legs instantly crumbled underneath me, my bottom landing on the carpeted floor with a loud 'thump'. 

"Ow."

"Come on Y/n, let's get you to bed." Finnick muttered, his voice now right by my ear, his breath fanning over my cheek as he lifted me into the air, moving towards my temporary room.

"Come on Beau." He said, his chin nudging against the top of my head.

"Put me down, F-Finnick. I can... walk-" My breaths became heavier, and it became all the more difficult to speak. My head lolled from left to right, right to left, and so forth, until it finally slumped against Finnick's collarbone, spots of black dancing in my vision as my eyelids drooped. 

I could hear the door to my room sliding open, and soon enough Finnick had placed me on a mattress, unwrapping his arms from my body. But now that I was suddenly so tired and sleepy, I remained latching onto him, having a newfound strength to grip onto his bicep.

"You can't go now.." I muttered, my head swaying lazily to the side as I opened my eyes, though droopily.

A quiet laugh escaped his lips as Finnick shook his head, that beautiful toothy grin gracing his features once more.

"Love, I need to get Beau to his room now, okay? I'll come back, I promise." He muttered, his voice husky and laced with a sweetness only I seemed to experience. My heart fluttered lightly at his words, and with a soft nod, I slowly set Finnick free.

His large hand came down to caress the side of my head, his thumb caressing my cheek lovingly. Was it lovingly though? It may have been forced. Who knows.

"I'll come back, honey." He whispered, and his hand slid down to give my hand a reassuring squeeze, before his touch left me and I was embraced by the chilliness of my room.

The last thing I heard was the sound of the door opening, and Finnick's honeyed voice muttering 'goodnight Y/n', before everything turned black and I fell unconscious.

The cheers and screams of the citizens shrouded me in a haze of puzzlement and anxiety, my thumb and pointer finger twirling and tinkering with the thin, golden bracelet enclosed over the wrist of my dominant hand. 

I wasn't with the other tributes yet, instead, Hazel was still fixing my dress, fluffing it up and ensuring the string of lights attached to the soft fabric was working and had no faults in it. 

'If one light breaks, the rest will not light up.' He had stated, pursing his plump lips again as his eyes narrowed, glaring at the remote switch. 

"As soon as you emerge from the lobby, I want you to flip the switch on, okay?" Hazel asked, his eyebrows raised high, his eyes staring into my soul almost threateningly. 

It was difficult to tell whether he cared about me as a person, or as a tool to reach more fame.

Though as the stylist of numerous tributes in the annual Hunger Games, with vast amounts of success, Hazel had climbed his way to the top and earned respected amongst the best of the best. 

So to be honest, he was probably most concerned about his reputation. 

"Do you remember how to turn the lights on, Y/n?" He asked, his tone gravely and gaze unrelenting. 

Swallowing down a forming lump, I nodded, my eyes unchanging as I refused to let my anxiety show. 

Hazel sighed, seemingly satisfied as he nodded and squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. 

"Now stop fiddling with that bracelet, it makes you look nervous. It makes you look weak." Hazel spoke, adding extra emphasis onto 'weak', though his gaze had turned mellow and buttery, his hand patting down my hair. 

He led me to the elevator, a hand placed on my shoulder as we stepped into the metal box.

"I won't be set on fire will I?" I turned to him, gaze worried, my hands clenched into fists as they fell to my sides. 

A warm chuckle escaped his lips, and Hazel shook his head, his features almost unmoving. The corners of his lips had risen slightly though, so I knew he was amused.

"No, these are battery powered, so you'll be okay." He said, pointing to the lights scattered over my dress, glinting under the bright lightbulb above our heads.

I nodded my head in understanding, and turned to face the doors, heart beating wildly in my chest.

The elevator soon came to a stop, and I felt my stomach churning as I heard the machinery whirring above and around us, a sound coming from the doors.

"Now go show them all who's the boss." Hazel spoke softly into my ear, his hands giving my shoulders a soft push as the doors fully opened, and I was greeted by the sight of fifteen other tributes, all coming to a standstill, all heads turning in my direction.

The screams and hollers of the citizens had significantly risen in volume, and I fought hard not to look up in awe, as well as terror.

"Don't let them see that this fazes you honey." Hazel's voice softly muttered, even though he was a good distance away from me to be able to hear. He was carrying the flowy end of my dress, ensuring that the delicate, lavender fabric does not touch the ground ever.

A blue shawl hung from my shoulders, the tips reaching my knees as I strode forward, my face unmoving, chin pointed in the direction of my carriage, although my eyes were scanning over every other tribute present.

Most District partners were already at their carriages, stood on the vehicles as they watched expectantly. Some other tributes and I had certainly taken our time, but time and effort were essential to ensuring we get sponsors.

The boy from District 2 was eyeing me up and down, a scowl present on his face as he turned to his partner, his lips moving animatedly. I think his name was Geralt, or something, and he was just two years younger than me, though possessed a much stronger, much taller figure.

I had watched him carefully during the replay of the reaping, and he never showed any hint of fear, or dread or anxiety. He clutched his District partners, Amelie's, hand proudly, fisting them into the air before the screen had switched.

As I approached my carriage, I looked further ahead, noticing the stocky ginger girl from District 7 looking my way, her arms crossed protectively over her chest. 

I think her name was Ophelia, I think.

It was her body that took me by surprise; she was awfully muscular. And yet, still just as skinny as most tributes present. Maybe less so than those from Districts 8, 10 and 12, but nevertheless, she was intimidating as fuck. 

Her hair was long and thick, some strands had been tied into braids, which flawlessly fell over her shoulders, reaching her hips. She was wearing an ember green dress, which was accentuated with golden lines and swirls, travelling all over the expanse of her body.

"Quit staring." Hazel's voice ripped me out from my thoughts, now much closer as I was aided onto the carriage designated for District 4. For me and Beau. 

"I wasn't staring." I hissed out, fighting hard not to scowl at Hazel's accusation.

Why would I be staring?

I'm supposed to be the star of the show, in his words.

Hazel didn't respond, and instead, looked around, searching for Beau and his styling partner, Melina. I hadn't yet seen the woman, but Beau's eyes sparkled like stars when he described her thick, curly pink hair. 

She had said that she would dress Beau as a young fisherman, to which nobody objected. 

Minutes passed as Hazel and I waited, more tributes filing into the lobby, until finally, Beau, Finnick, Mags and Melina came into view. 

Beau wore a straw hat that seemed way too big for his head, his golden curly locks peeking out slightly under the hat, his dark blue overalls and checkered shirt fitting him adorably. Before I could move an inch, I felt Hazel's sharp gaze on me, and I remained still, wishing to pinch Beau's cheeks. 

"Y/n! You look stunning..." Beau said, his eyes widening in amazement as he looked over my dress, his hands extending as if to feel the fabric. 

Hazel's hand extended out, and he took a tight hold of the boy's hands, shaking his head in disapproval. "You can look, but you can't touch." He said, his tone as sharp as a butcher's knife. 

Beau visibly gulped, nodding his head as he tugged his hand free of Hazel's grasp.

"Hazel! Don't be mean to my little pumpkin over here!" Melina scolded, slapping the man's hand away as she shook her head at him disapprovingly. Hazel furrowed his eyebrows, tutting at her as he ignored her. 

The woman gasped, her pink-dyed eyebrows raised comically as she moved her head to the side like a snake, making her way back into my stylist's view. "You will not be ignoring me, do you hear me?" She asked, waving her pointer finger from side to side in front of his face.

An annoyed groan left Hazel's throat, and at that, Melina laughed, her body shaking animatedly. 

"You're as cute as ever, Hazel dear!" She shouted, smacking his back with the force of a god. 

Just before the man could reply, he was interrupted by an announcement,

"The tributes shall now file out in numerical order, please, give a round of applause to Geralt and Amelie from District 1!" A man's voice shouted over an intercom, followed by loud cheers and hollers from the citizens.

"Come on, Beau. Hop on that cart." Melina said, and wasted no time in grabbing the boy under his armpits, heaving him up next to me.

I turned to Beau, giving the faintest of smiles as the boy gripped the carriage with a newfound anxiety.

My lips opened as I was about to speak, but I was interrupted by an all too familiar baritone of a voice.

"Y/n?" Finnick asked, popping into view at the last second. I looked down at him, not sparing another smile his way as my heart palpitated in my chest. "You look- you look gorgeous." His voice was soft, husky as his eyes gazed at me as if I was the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. 

I mentally thanked Hazel for the layers of makeup he had lathered onto my face, as I knew they would hide my blush. What betrayed me though, was the soft 'oh' that I let out.

I'm gonna kick myself for this later.

Just as I was about to utter a 'thank you', our carriage began pulling away, and with one last glance back, I saw an unknown emotion swirling in the green sea of Finnick's irises, as well as the way a soft, toothy grin that made its way onto his face.

"Show them who's boss!" Melina shouted, and just before I fully turned to face the oncoming audience, I saw Finnick and Hazel send me a 'thumbs-up'. 

With a deep breath, I straightened my back, raised my chin, gripped my fists onto the carriage. The horses that pulled us trotted slowly, entering the long stretch of lights, cheers and screams. A sea of colourful bodies welcomed us, and my eyes widened as I remembered the switch.

As if on cue, a man's voice, this time I recognised it to be that of Caesar Flickerman's, boomed through numerous speakers.

"Please, give a round of applause for the Tributes of District 4; Y/n and Beau!" His voice shouted, and I took that as my cue to turn on the switch. Instantly, Beau and I were engulfed in a swirling sea of lights, all twirling around my dress as I felt the back of it flowing in a gentle breeze.

I looked ahead, taking in slow, deep breaths through my nose.

I felt Beau's hand reach for mine, and I looked down to him, casting a soft smile as we held each other's hands, squeezing reassuringly.

"Beau, show them who's the boss." I said softly, and the boy looked at me with a small smile, followed by a nod of his head.

"Show them who's boss, Y/n."

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district four → fishing

“do you like seafood? shrimp and crabmeat? often overlooked, district four plays an essential role, bringing us the bounty of the sea. these citizens are adept with nets and tridents, and can swim like fish themselves.”

District 4 movies vs the books

No, the male tribute from district 4 in the 74th hunger games isn't 12 year old. You shouldn't use the movies to justify your thoughts about district 4 not being a career district.

One thing that really bothered me about the movies, that people barely talk about, is the fact they changed district 4. In the books the female tribute got killed by the tracker jackers, while in the movie she got killed by the career tributes.

Finnick Odair x reader

And I fell to the ground… I couldn't discerned the environment around me as my eyes could barely stay open due to the sun's rays.

Not far from where I lay helpless, there was the body of the tribute from the second district, without his head.

The fight had been to the death and that feeling of numbness, caused by I don't know what, hadn't helped me at all. I don't even know how I managed to raise my sword, since I was on my knees in front of him partially unable to breathe, and manage to complete a blow that managed to decapitate him.

Before entering the arena I would never have considered myself capable of carrying out such an atrocious action, but once you’re inside you can't wait to leave, but in my case dying was not allowed: my family is waiting for me at home, the last wish of a little girl from the seventh district was “Please, live your life for me too”, and lastly I promised someone that I would come back for him.

15 days ago

“Don't you dare leave me alone, there, without you. I'm begging you, darling. I can't live without you anymore.” My hand caresses his cheek; he is sitting in a chair with his arms around my waist.

“Finnick, you were a wonderful experience…”

“You were everything, you are everything.” His hands caress my back; I approach his lips and kiss them.

“I'll do anything for you, Y/n. My sweet girl, my sweet Y/n…”

“But please, not that… I don't want you to do that kind of things, Finn. Please, I wouldn’t forgive myself if you give yourself to someone who doesn't deserve you, neither your body. You’re gold… they don't deserve you.”

“And I don't deserve you, my love. I don't deserve you..."

“Don’t say shit… instead take me, Finn. Take me in your arms until the sun rises…”

“I was wanting for it for all this time, Y/n…”

We moved to the bed where we remained until the next day, the day we would have to separate without the certainty of being able to see each other again.

He was lying on his back and I was with my head on his chest.

“I think I love, Y/n.” I didn't react to those words; I didn't move an inch. I couldn't say I loved him because tomorrow I won't wake up knowing that he will be by my side but knowing that tomorrow will be either a goodbye or a see you later...

“Finnick…” I whisper softly and with a trembling voice.

“It's okay, honey. I said I think I love you… I'm not sure, yet.” His little laugh penetrated my heart… «I do love you» this was all I wanted to tell him but I wasn't brave enough.

Before it was too late, they took me from the arena and I was brought back to the Capitol, fresh as a rose: they had washed and restored every single remnant of the island, as if those 15 days had never happened.

My head stopped spinning, my eyes could see clearly again, my belly was intact again...

“We're here,” a woman informed me.

I stood up and felt neither fatigue nor pain, yet my right leg was torn until a few hours ago.

When the door of the plane opened, I almost rushed down, looking only for those sea green eyes that have encouraged me several times even from afar.

We had landed right on the roof of the building where I had been staying in the days before the Hunger Games.

As soon as I looked out of the plane's steps, a voice shouted my name.

“Yn!”

I turned towards his voice and saw him: a Greek God, breathtakingly beautiful, looking only in my direction.

I started running, feeling the need to throw myself into his arms.

How I missed… my mentor. Even if within a few days he had become something more and I had only understood it in the arena, when at the end of my strength his gifts fell from the sky, always accompanied by a note: “you're doing great, honey. ” “Keep fighting, sweet girl.” “Survive, baby.”

Every time I've got his messages I couldn't help but smile like a child.

Finally the meters separated us disappeared and I was finally in the safest place I could wish for: in the arms of Finnick Odair.

“Thanks, Finnick. You saved my life..." I whispered against his chest: his hands were one around my hips and the other immersed in my hair.

“No, you saved my life by winning that fucking game. How could I live without you?” He said leaving a kiss on my forehead. I lifted my head from his chest and looked into his eyes: beautiful but a little shiny.

“Finnick…”

“Yes, honey?” His hand moves to my check.

“I'm glad you're here.”

“Always, baby. I will always be by your side from now on, Y/n, I promise.”

Our embrace melted after a while, his hand took hold of mine and we went inside.

“Would you like to spend the night with me?” He said hesitantly, his confidence had disappeared: and he was only acting like that because he didn't want to force me to do anything.

“Of course, I wanna be with you tonight and the days after tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that… forever, Finnick.” A dazzling smile lit up his face: his lips placed a kiss on my hand which he held tightly in his.

“I love you, Y/n. You don't know how much.” My heart melted and I pulled him close to me, wrapping my arms around him. But he, with incredible speed, lifted me off my feet, placing my legs around his hips.

“You're coming into my room tonight, little girl.” Whisper in my ear “You want this, right?” I nodded. There was nowhere else I wanted to be but with him…

So I was carried into his room.

“Would you like me to kiss you?” He wisher and all I knew was that all my body was going on fire.

“Finnick, I'm yours, do to me what you want, I love you.” And this was the phrase of affirmation that man, as beautiful as the sun, needed to free himself from all that tension that he had to endure in those long days.

His lips ran down on my neck licking and sucking it. His hands reached up and unhooked my bra from over the sweatshirt I was wearing. My hands slid under his shirt, lifting it up, revealing his defined muscles.

“Do you like what you're seeing?” My response was only a muffled moan which, however, made him more excited.

While he continued to kiss my neck, he pressed me against the wall, I couldn't breathe: my desire for him was palpable and he was eager to have... me.

I took off my shirt and he threw away my bra, taking one breast in his hand: he squeezed it and rubbed his finger against the already swollen nipple.

Our mouths were one inside the other, and with his tongue he was devouring me: he sucked my lower lip, bit it and I tried to keep up with him but it was useless... I wasn't on his level.

Suddenly from the wall I found myself lying on the bed with Finnick pulling down my pants... caressing every inch of skin that he discovered little by little.

Once the trousers were off, he threw them across the room. He returned to my lips, careful to make his cock touch, hard, against my vagina.

I started lifting my pelvis moving it left and right, feeling his erection getting bigger and bigger.

“Careful, darling…” Finnick grunted, lifting his head and my movements became faster.

A guttural moan escaped him from those lips on which I rushed to devour them. His fingers reached the elastic of the panty and snapped it.

“Beg me…” And I wasn't even able to breathe let alone talking.

“Finnick, I want you, please…” with his palm he rubbed me underneath and I opened my legs more. I wanted every single part of my body.

He walked away from me, undid his belt, and took off his pants and boxers. He came back on me, leaving a nice mark on my collarbone as I raised my pelvis to touch his member.

“Stay down, Y/n.”

“Finnick…” his name was like a prayer, a cry addressed to him to speed up the process… but he didn't seem to care about my inability to hold back any longer. I've been dreaming about this moment for weeks and he was making me suffer before satisfying me, filling me up.

His cock moved away from the center of my legs and Finnick positioned himself right there.

“Let's see..." his finger traced a vertical line from bottom to top. "How wet you are, good girl." His head lowered and the contact of his hot tongue against my wetness made a cry escape my mouth...

“Yes, baby, let me hear you…” he said making me vibrate. He pinched my clit with his teeth and my hand dipped into his hair, pushing him closer and closer.

After exploring the entire area with his tongue, he began to make circular movements: fast, insatiable.

“Finnick…”

Between various moans and whispers of his name, I felt his finger entering me.

“Honey, you're so tight…” he said this time raising his head.

“I love it…” he smirked and started to move his finger up and down, curling it. Meanwhile, with the other hand he took care of the clit: rubbing and pinching it.

“More…” I wishered.

“As you want.” He put his middle finger to his lips. “Will you do it for me?” I nodded and took him between my lips, sliding my tongue along the length of him.

“Nice technique, love.” He smirked and finally I had two fingers of him in me.

I could easily come if he will keep going like that…

“Fin, please, I’m… close.” Another prayer came out of my lips. He just smiled and, finally, removed his fingers and brought his cock against my entrance.

It was so big, so bulky. I wasn't even sure if I could have him in me.

“Tell me to stop if it's too much painful…”

I wasn't scared at all, even if that was my first time and he knew it, all that I wanted was him.

Finally I felt his length in me, he entered slowly and his movements were the softest. As my walls adapted to his presence, he increased the intensity of the movements and I began to accompany them with my hips. And just when we reached a certain speed, my body contracted with numerous shocks and I came between moans and crying of his name.

As soon as my juice wet his member I saw a sparkle in his eyes and his movements became harder, more violent. My fingers gripped his back and I screamed his name over and over again. We both moaned and my legs trembled, but he didn't seem to get tired, in fact his movements, accompanied by the squirm due to the fact that I had come, were more and more violent but I didn't want him to stop, on the contrary...

Suddenly he exploded inside me, making me arch my back and fall my head onto the bed; filling me with him.

He fell on top of me, still inside me.

Our breaths were ragged and both our bodies were hot, quivering.

We didn't say a word until we were clear again.

Yes he slipped out from inside me and dropped onto the bed. His hand slipped underneath me and turned me onto my side.

“Are you okay?” He asked me gently and in a way that I just adored.

“I feel epic.” He laughed and that sound was all I needed to be happy.

“I love you, Finnick Odair.”

“I love you too, my loudest girl.”

D4 birth ritual

Headcannon: A week after a baby in Four is born, they are dipped into the ocean (kinda like a christening) and are lowk offered up ig ?? the mother walks the baby into the arms of the mayor (or some1 important) but sometimes the babies just be tossed in if nobody gaf

A Wished For Future 🔱🩵

Finnick Odair × Fem!Reader.

The sound of waves lapping gently against the shore echoed in the distance as the sun bathed the world in a golden glow. The large house by the water, once a sanctuary in a world of chaos, was now filled with the warmth of a family’s love and the echoes of laughter. Six years had passed since the end of the games, a time of darkness that seemed like a distant memory now.

In the living room, the air was filled with joy as Finnick chased his son, Atlantis, around the room. The boy's small legs moved as fast as they could, his laughter ringing through the house. His bright eyes sparkled with the thrill of the chase, and Finnick’s heart swelled with love as he pretended to struggle to catch him.

Y/N stood in the archway, her two-year-old daughter, Clarity, nestled in her arms. A soft smile graced her lips as she watched her two boys play. She looked down at Clarity, who was watching the scene with wide eyes. “Aren’t they just being silly?” Y/N giggled, brushing a strand of hair from her daughter's face.

Clarity let out a small, delighted squeal, her tiny hands clapping together. The sound caught Atlantis’s attention, and he changed direction, running straight for his mother. “Mamma!” he giggled, his little feet pounding against the wooden floor as he made his way to her.

Y/N knelt down, wrapping one arm around Atlantis as he reached her, pulling both of her children close. Finnick came up behind them, placing a gentle hand on Y/N’s shoulder. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, his heart overflowing with gratitude for the life they had built together.

“You know,” Finnick said softly, his voice filled with emotion, “everything I did… everything I went through, was to get to you. To get to this.” His words were a quiet echo of those of his father to his mother, they hold a love that had once resonated with him in a different time—a time when he had fought not just for his own survival, but for the hope of a future filled with love.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I know,” she whispered. “And I’m so glad you did.”

The world outside may have been unpredictable, but within these walls, they had found their sanctuary. They had found peace. And as the laughter of their children filled the room, it was clear that every struggle, every hardship, had led them to this moment—a moment where love was the only thing that mattered.

In that small house by the water, the past was just a memory, and the future was a bright, beautiful canvas waiting to be filled with the colors of their love. Together, they had overcome the darkness, and together, they would continue to build a life full of light, laughter, and endless love.

This was the future they had both wished for and now they have it and can't wait to see where it takes them.

If you enjoyed please react in anyway to let me know 🔱🩵

Also this is my first post here so let me know how I did and if there is anything I could do better.

Thanks for reading ☺️