how can you not like him as finnick

finnick odair imagine | he’s insecure about his past

requested by anon

words: 997

warnings: mentions of prostitution

In which Finnick tells you about his past and how it made him feel, and you’re there to help him see his worth again.

Originally posted by drunksexhes

“There’s something I need to tell you.” Finnick worried at his lip as he finally broke the silence between the two of you. You had been seeing one another for weeks, but you’d had feelings for him for a lot longer than that, with him always flirting and you always rolling your eyes, secretly enjoying the attention. Ever since you had made it official, though, things had changed; he had been quiet, reserved, and you weren’t quite sure why. It seemed that perhaps now you were finally about to get your answer.
You sat down at the kitchen table across from him, your hands fidgety in your lap and your heart pounding so loud you were sure he could hear it. All you could think was: he’s going to break up with me. This is it.
“What is it?” You asked as calmly as you could. “You can tell me anything. You know that.”
He couldn’t meet your eyes. His usual cheeky smile had been long wiped from his face. You had never seen him like this, not even in the arena. He was always so confident, even when faced with death. That terrified you even more.
“[Y/N], I’ve not been honest with you about who I am. What I’ve done.”
He’s cheated, you thought, your heart sinking. “Okay,” you whispered. “What have you done?”
He took a deep breath, ran his hands over his face as though he didn’t want you to even look at him. “I’m a prostitute…or, was.”
“What?” Your eyes widened, your mouth slightly agape. This was certainly not what you had been expecting to hear. “What do you mean?”
“After my first time in the Games, Snow…He made me sell myself to women. Mostly those in the Capitol, but not always. He threatened the safety of my family. He made it clear that I had no choice.”
You had no idea what to say. He looked so broken—and more than that, ashamed—as he spoke. There were so many questions, so many thoughts rushing through your head, and all you could do was stare at him, a tear rolling down your cheek without you even realising. Your skin crawled at the thought of Finnick being treated so awfully.
“I didn’t let them pay me, at least, not with money. I asked for their secrets, instead. I never wanted it, [Y/N]. I never wanted to feel so…dirty.” His voice cracked on that last word and that was when you sprung into action, grabbing his hand above the table quickly.
“You’re not dirty, Finnick. It wasn’t your fault.” You squeezed his hand reassuredly, finding it difficult to hide your anger at the Snow. “It’s the Capitol. They’re disgusting. You didn’t deserve to be treated like some kind of animal. I’m so sorry you had to go through all that.”
A flicker of surprise passed over his face before his eyebrows furrowed again and he looked down at your intertwined hands. “I thought you’d be angry…or disgusted. How can you even look at me after what I’ve just told you? I was a prostitute, [Y/N],” he said again as though you had misunderstood the first time.
“It doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t make me see you any differently. How could it?” You smiled sadly, cupping his jaw with your hand and tracing a gentle thumb over the corner of his mouth. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, and when he opened them again, they were filled with tears of his own.
“Sometimes I just feel like I’m worthless. My own body didn’t belong to me. I was used, treated like I was nothing. How can I expect you to love me after all of that?”
“Because I’m not like them. Because I know that you’re so much more than what they made you.” You stood up and rounded the table until you reached him. For once, it was not you that needed the reassurance. It was not you who felt insecure and underserving of him, and you just hoped that you could show him how much he was truly worth. You sat in his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and wiping away a tear that had fallen. “You’re not worthless, Finnick. You’re everything to me. I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t tell me sooner.”
“I thought you’d run a mile. I didn’t want you to see me the way that everyone else did, but I knew you had to know.”
“I could never see you that way.” You kissed his forehead gently and allowed him to rest his face in the crook of your neck. Of course, there was still so much that you needed to process, so much you knew he would eventually tell you more about, but you knew all that would come with time.
“What did I do to deserve you?” He murmured, the sound vibrating against your shirt.
“It should be me asking you that,” you smiled, pulling away and pushing his hair out of his face. You didn’t tell him you loved him—it was too soon for that, even though you both knew the feelings were there. Instead, you simply let him seek comfort in your warmth.
You sat there for hours, in his lap, his head against your chest. He was listening to the sound of your heartbeat as he told you stories about the Capitol and the women he would meet. He spoke for hours and you listened, not drifting off once.
“You never have to go through that again,” you told him when his voice had finally trailed off. “It’s over now.”
He nodded, the corners of his mouth turned up as though he wanted to smile but didn’t quite remember how to. When you woke up the day after, though, the smiling, teasing Finnick you knew so well was back and a weight having been lifted from his chest.
It wouldn’t be easy, but you would try your best to help him see his own worth again.


masterlist | request an imagine

Poisoned Youth

Who : Finnick Odair
Where : The Hunger Games
Inspiration : Centuries by Fall Out Boy 

I had wanted to turn this into a legitimate story but I just couldn’t find inspiration to do so. But I hope you enjoy it <3

They branded her as the Songless Siren, a name she couldn’t escape.

She had been reaped for the 67th Annual Hunger Games and little did they know, it would be the shortest match in Capitol History. They threw the fourteen year old girl from District Four a bone by sending her in a watery grave. The families of the fallen would claim that the game was rigged, making it fairly easy for District Four to seek victory again. Despite the Gamemaker finding her ever so entertaining, he played the game fair. It was her who had docked the heads off her competitors.

Sixteen in the first three hours.

She could hold her breath for an awfully long time and she was told to use that to her advantage if her arena should have any type of deep water lurking in itself. To her luck, that’s all it was. They had given the players only thirty feet of wooded land around the watery pit. Most were dimwitted and trudged into the icy cold waters to drown the youngest girl of them all. To their dismay, it did not work out in their favor. She’d sink to the deepest depths where the water was so dark, so numbingly frigid and wait for them to come to her. Even without trying, she lured them into her trap.

The Capitol loved her. They rooted for her to win despite most of them finding the game itself to be quite boring. However, the Capitol were quite impressed with her increasing number of victims piling at her feet. She had singlehandedly taken out more than half the competitors faster than they would have themselves. It wasn’t long before they came up with the clever name, making it the only thing they would ever call her.

Even back at home, her fellow District Four inhabitants wouldn’t call her by the name she had gone into the arena with. And it wouldn’t be a surprise if they had forgotten what she used to be called before she was pushed into a nightmare that would never end. It had become normal to answer to Siren or anything affiliated with the title the Capitol gave her. She minded her manners and did what she was told. Faking a smile and taking part in conversations that she no longer wanted to be a part of.

It was exhausting going back and forth from the Victor houses all the way to the Capitol for extravagant parties and foods so rich it made her stomach hurt. She wanted to be left alone, forgotten. It was difficult to put on a smile when she hadn’t slept for days or even keep her etiquette when the PTSD would kick in and she felt like she had no room to breathe. There was no one she could find solace in, her family turned their backs at what she had done and she couldn’t blame them. She entered as their frightened little girl and came out as a murderer. Even she wanted to turn her back but they were watching, always watching.

All she wanted was to hear her name, to be reminded that she was still in there somewhere. Hidden underneath panicked thoughts and guarded memories. She was tired of being glittered up in mermaid gowns and asked about what it was like living in treacherous waters for two days straight and how she kept her head during it all. That was the thing, she didn’t. She lost herself the second she dragged the District Two boy down into her cage and let him struggle to hold onto the bit of air he had hardly gotten. Every face of every life she had taken was imprinted behind her lids. She’d never forget.

“Red’s a good color for you,” She turned her head, her eyes trailing down the length of his body. Finnick smirked, “See something you like? I could let you take a closer look if you let me into that pretty little head of yours.”

She scoffed, how much his little charade annoyed her. “As enticing as that sounds, I’ll have to pass. You can gather your secrets elsewhere.” Turning her attention back onto the lights that flickered and danced in dark, she leaned further onto the balcony railing and breathed in the Capitol air. She missed her salty sea and it had been days since she had returned.

Finnick’s eye twitched as he closed the double doors behind him. “They say that we are legends."He stood next to her, nudging her, "You and I.” He scoffed under his breath, shaking his head. Letting his arm touch hers, “We’re the poisoned youth. Our names will be here forever, masked as something pure.”

She looked up at him, her eyes glimmering with her haunted past. “We were poisoned the minute we were born.” Chewing on her bottom lip, she turned towards him. “Please say it.”

Finnick matched her, his hand gliding down her shoulder and lacing with her fingers. Bringing them up to his lips, he placed a delicate kiss against her knuckles. “Waverly…”

Prompt

Request: Finnick x reader (by anon)

Prompt(s): “Stop laughing! It’s not funny!”

Warnings: none


District 13′s rules sure were tough. There was a strict timetable for anyone, preparing for an upcoming war between the remaining members of several Districts and the Capitol itself.

Your plan was mostly about eating, health check, sleep and fight. Like a goddamn robot. 

This morning, it was all more into a rush and you had to get up way earlier without any food. You felt dizzy, but you knew that wouldn’t matter to them. 

You began your training as usual, dealing with some modern weapons the Capitol won’t have. 

The leaders gave you the weapon you’d use today. Not really awake, you’ve realized that it was bow and arrows after several seconds have passed.

“Hey, these are Katniss’ weapons?” You asked confused. They shrugged. “You need to be able to handle everything. Just in case.” Sighing, you tried to work out how this thing worked while the others already started training. 

When you thought this was more or less correct, you targeted the object a bit afar and triggered the arrow. Unfortunately, you aimed a bit too high. The arrow hit a power line, and some lights went off immediately. Fantastic. 

You heard a laugh shortly after it. Furiously, you turned around, seeing Finnick was the one causing it. 

Keep reading

Randomness again part 2

So rumors have been going around that Judy is a fox pregnator xDD

Judy: Why are you guys hiding from me?

Gideon: Well I uh..no offense Judy but I heard you were ah fox pregnator and I’m not ready to have kits just yet.

Finnick: That rights! You stay back, I’m not afraid to use this bat on you! I don’t want no kits!!

Judy: *groans* I’m not a fox pregnator!!!

Finnick: Well then how do you explain him!? *points bat at Nick*

Judy: …uuuhhh *stares at Nick* ….

Nick: *nervously smiles and shrugs* …maybe you are a fox pregnator. Hey it might not be that bad. You’re the first bunny to do it. You’re kinda like the ultimate bunny now who can do anything.

Judy: Nick, you’re not helping…

On this fine day, the 8th of December to be exact, I’d like to send you, wonderful @thelettersfromnoone, the last part of Ethan Odair’s Christmas adventure. I wish you a wonderful day today! :)

Your,
Secret Santa

***

“Are you alright, Mommy?” His voice was small and vulnerable, and with the added distance between the bedroom where he was standing and the bathroom she was kneeling in, it sounded even more broken.

“I’m alright, Ethan. Don’t worry,” she called back, before she bent over once more and threw up again.

This morning sickness was really getting to her. Especially now that it lasted way into the afternoons.

Annie flushed the toilet and stepped over to the sink. While she brushed her teeth she tried to think of a way to explain to her son why she threw up the third time in as many days. There wouldn’t be any hiding for very much longer.

Originally she and Finnick wanted to tell Ethan about the baby on Christmas Day. In his letter to Santa he asked about a sibling and they wanted it to look like Mr. Claus had made his wish come true. But with these violent bouts of morning sickness she wasn’t sure how much longer she could assure her son that this was just a bug.

The front door opened and she heard Ethan rushing down the stairs.

“Daddy! Daddy! Mommy’s throwing up again,” he called while throwing himself into Finnick’s arms.

“Oh no! Poor Mommy. Let’s go check on her,” her husband answered and a moment later she heard his footsteps on the stairs. She turned the lights off and left the bathroom.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead when he stepped into the bedroom, their son still in his arms. They looked at each other, and without a word they walked over to their bed and sat down, Ethan in between them.

Finnick took her hand in his, his smile reassuring. He knew this situation made her a little anxious.

“Is Mommy sick?” the boy interrupted the moment, both adults turning to him.

“No, Mommy isn’t sick,” his father answered, “But we have to tell you something, and we hope you’re going to be happy about it.”

If possible, the boy’s eyes widened.

“The reason Mommy hasn’t felt so well these last few days is because her body needs to adjust to the new situation. You see, before babies arrive they need to grow and gain weight. And for that they need a safe place. And that safe place is in Mommy’s belly. So, sometimes the belly is a little upset because now it needs to share the space with the baby, but that will hopefully be over very soon.”

Ethan listened intently to his father, before his eyes flickered to Annie’s stomach. “There’s a baby in there?”

“Yes,” she smiled, brushing her hand through her son’s hair. “So in a couple months you’re going to be a big brother. How do you like that?”

Instead of an answer the boy wrapped his arms tightly around her neck and laughed. The anxiousness she’d felt only moments before got washed away with every delighted little laugh from her son. She looked up and Finnick beamed down at her and Ethan.

After a couple moments the boy pulled away and turned to his father.

“Daddy, can you help me?”

They looked at him with confusion, but Finnick simply nodded. “What do you need help with, buddy?”

Ethan beamed at his parents. He reminded Annie so much of Finnick it nearly made her burst with joy.

The boy hurried off the bed and to the door. He turned around when none of the adults made any move to join him.

“Come on, Daddy. I need to write Santa a Thank you card. I asked for a brother or a sister, and he gave me the present and it’s not even Christmas yet!”

He ran down the stairs to the living room where all his crayons were stored, calling up to his father once again to hurry up.

“You’re alright?” Finnick asked before following his son. Annie simply nodded and smiled, brushing her hand over his cheek once. “I’m perfect.”

The End

ragingwerewolfdude  asked:

Finnick comes over, as Nick and Judy are talking to the foster parents and social worker. Could be good could be bad

Hoho, more Adoption AU! for everyone.

—-

Finnick doesn’t just randomly swing by Nick’s and Judy’s place unannounced often.  Specially now they they have kits.

You know, but sometimes it’s nice to go to the store, buy boxes upon boxes of chocolates and dumb little ice cube molds and swing by.  For a little lesson in entrepreneurship and sweet making.  Before getting everyone hyped up on sugar and just leaving.

Which was what he was doing. 

He dropped the handle of his cart, and jumped up to the handle.  He gripped it tightly as he fished around his pocket for his keys.  Easily he sorted out which key it was and twisted in the lock, before using his body weight to pull down the handle.  The door popped open as Finnick dropped down and grabbed his cart again.

Kicking open the door more, he dragged his little cart inside.  “Yo, anyone home?”  Finnick called loudly into the house as he closed the door behind her. 

No one immediately came rushing to see him, or sharply round the corner to tell him to be quiet because the kits are finally sleeping.  However, that never meant no one was actually home.  For all Finnick knew everyone could be taking an afternoon nap, or hiding withing the depths of the apartment where they can’t hear.

“Hello?”  He called again as he rounded the dinning room table.

The sight that greet him was an unusual one. Two big cats, a lioness and a tiger sitting crammed together on Nick and Judy’s large couch, hunching over slightly from the ceiling.  Each with a cup that seemed tiny in their paws.  A porcupine was sitting in on their arm chairs, looking so smug and proud of herself, and also very shocked to see Finnick there.  Both Nick and Judy were sitting stiff as boards in two dinning room chairs they pulled over.  Looks of slight wide eyed horror at the sight of Finnick.

The desert fox knew their horror was not from his presence in the least, but rather the timing of it all.

“Is this one of your kits?”  The lioness asked politely after a long moment of silence from everyone in the room.

“I’m 47 lady,”  Finnick snarled out, and the lioness looked greatly taken back.  “Though I did use to pose as his kit on some occasions.”  He added coolly, relishing the awkward smile that spread across Nick’s face when everyone turned to the red fox.

It made putting up with all those ‘daddy jokes’ worth it.  Payback could be a really bitch.  

“If you’ll excuse me for a moment.”  Nick said, springing out of his chair.  The red fox made his way to over to the desert fox, with an ever pleasant grin, before ushered him into kitchen.  The smile instantly melted away the moment the two were out sight.  “What are you doing here?!”

“Stopping by in for a surprise candy making visit.”  Finnick stated easily, like it was something that happened every other Saturday.  “What’s going on in there with the towering cat duo?”

Nick hushed him quickly.  “The social worker from Jeremy’s case found a foster family able to take him in.”

Finnick raised an eyebrow at the taller fox.  He’d never meet Jeremy before, but Nick had mentioned him before in recent talks.  Something Finnick had always laughed at because karma does have a sense of humor sometimes.  "And that’s bad, because…”

“It’s great, just Jeremy’s been with us for three weeks, and he’s finally starting to open up and adjust to us.”  Nick sighed frustrated, because the fox cares, and Finnick gets it.  He’s been in the foster system, it’s not great.  “Not to mention, Jeremy ran and hide at the sight of the tiger and neither of us get him to come out, and now the every so lovely social worker is using that against us.”

“Ah, the proci-bitch.”

“She’s in the other room!”  Nick snapped in horror.  Like the last thing he needs is for the social worker to have one more thing to use against him.

“Where are the other kits?”

“Triplets are over a friends house, Emily is in the room where Jeremy’s hiding, keeping him company.”  Nick sighed out.  “Can you just come back some other times.”

“No,”  Finnick said shaking his head, ignoring how the taller fox frowned down at him.  “We’ve gotten out of hairier situations, and Judy and you have gotten out of the hairiest.  Handle the proci-bitch,”  Nick cringed at the words again, “leave the kit’s to me.”

Nick opened his mouth to object but sighed when he realized he didn’t have much of a course. Didn’t matter if he wanted it or not, it was happening.  He groaned for a moment, before giving Finnick a warning look that if he blew this for them hell would rain down upon him.  Finnick just pushed him back towards the living room with little care, because he’s never wasn’t about to ruin this.

Finnick in turn made his own away out of this kitchen.  Just a minor wave towards the living room as he moved to the hallway that let to the bedrooms.  It didn’t take him long to find out which one Jeremy was in, as Emily was just calmly sitting by the closet doors, playing with a stuffed toy.

It also didn’t take him every long to convince Jeremy to at least open the closet door.  Really that was amazingly simple, stating the kit had noting to fear as he was barely two feet tall.  The door open more in disbelief than anything else.  After a few more minutes of talking, and mentioning he had chocolates and candies and collection of fun mold to use, the young tiger cub was out.

“Do you have Iron Tiger molds?”  the tiger asked as he clawed out of his spot.  

“Do I have Iron Tiger molds?”  Finnick mimicked, sounding playful excited.  “Or course I have Iron Tiger molds, they were especially on sale today.”  They weren’t he bought them any way because Nathan never fails to ask every time.  “You can have Iron Tiger candies by tonight, if you wanted.”

Next thing their in the kitchen.  Finnick distracts Jeremy from the grown tiger in the living room by listing the chocolates he bought.  And acting like it was crime the cub had never melted down chocolate into something else.  And it’s only a matter of time before the three of them are melting a mixture of bars on the stove.

At one point Nick barred the social worker from entering the kitchen to collect Jeremy for a “more proper introduction”.  Not the Finnick would have let her take him away from sitting on the floor, determining the next chocolate bar mixture with Emily.

“You’re ruining his chance at happy healthy life.”  Finnick heard the social worker complain.

Something in the dessert fox just snapped.  

“No, he’s not.”  The small fox snapped, rounding the corner of the kitchen where Nick was lightly trying to pull the porcupine away to continue going. “He’s looking out for the kit, a lot more than you.  After all, at this point, it’s the kit’s choice where he wants to go, and he already ran away from your suspected foster parents.  I’d say he’s already chosen for you.”

The social worker opened her mouth like she was going to object with some high and might reason.  Like how could he possibly know what it was like, it’s not even his kit to care for.  And Finnick just glared at her, daring to say something, because he could tear her to shreds.  He knows enough about Jeremy’s story to know the whole thing is a bad idea.  Not to mention his own past experiences.

“I think it’s best we go.”  The adult tiger said, standing up from the couch.  “Given Jeremy’s situation…and reaction, as well as the fox’s words, I don’t think we’re the best fit at the moment.”  The tiger turned to the lioness who is seemed to be nodding in agreement.  “I think it’s time we go, honey.  It was a pleasure meeting you all.”

And with that the large cat couple made their way towards the front door,  leaning over to give small good-byes to the kits in the kitchen, and they were gone.

The porcupine huffed after a moment.  She stormed away to collect her things and was gone only moments later.  Grumbling to herself as she Judy showed her out and closed the door harshly behind her.

“Well that when…differently,”  The rabbit sighed out.  “Suppose we find out on Monday how that went.”

Finnick got a call barely two week later for Judy telling him Nick and her had filed to adopt Jeremy.  Proci-bitch was pissed, and promised to drag out the court process as long as she could because she didn’t believe it was a good choice.

In turn Finnick just asked for a court date and offered to testify on their behalf.  Also he promised to make a whole bag full of Iron Tiger chocolates when everything was finalized.

—-

AN: Uncle Finnick is the best!  Like I imagine him constantly telling Nick and Judy their kids are the worst and pain.  And teasing Nick endlessly for settling down.  But the moment anyone messes with any of them, Uncle Finnick is there to bring hell.

shiningsobrightly  asked:

Hi! Interesting blog you have here. Are any of you into The Hunger Games books? I'd like to know your take on the characters' sorting (according to your system). Just curious because I've seen a lot of discussions on tumblr related to that.

(Note: the way we play this game, “primary” is WHY you do things; “secondary" is HOW you do things.)

-

In Mockingjay, Haymitch explains to District 13 why their PR efforts with Katniss are failing—Katniss cannot be scripted. Her power and her charisma stem directly from her reactivity. Every time Katniss has kindled fervor it has been unintentional and genuinely meant—mourning Rue, volunteering for Prim, saluting District 8 on the tour, standing in front of the hospital bombing and calling for war.

Katniss can lie (see: pretending her relationship with Peeta during Catching Fire), but she hates it. She is consistently and powerfully at her most influential when thrown into games or war zones and allowed to react, improvise, and emote. This honesty, genuineness and fervor resulting in unintentional, inspirational leadership is a stunning example of the Gryffindor Secondary.

Now contrast this with Peeta, who goes into the Capital’s publicity consciously planning to play them: waving at the crowds, choosing to love Katniss aloud for both their sakes. He has the Hufflepuff Secondary superpower: unlike Finnick (darling Slytherin/Slytherin), Peeta means it when he smiles at the audience, even if only for that moment. Peeta is changeable and conscious, but he is genuine, if ruthless, with his emotions.

Peeta means it, but unlike Katniss, he can choose to. His words to Katniss in The Hunger Games—“I will still be me”—point to that difference. It’s vitally important to Peeta, that choice, that integrity, but Katniss doesn’t understand why that is wanted or needed. She will be herself whether she wants to or not. It matters like breathing does.

But both Katniss and Peeta are Slytherin primaries. When the chips are down they both value their loves ones above all else. Katniss barters her (vital) place in 13’s rebellion for Peeta’s safety and Prim’s cat. Her first major act as protagonist—volunteering for Prim—is a Slytherin Primary’s desperate cry. She didn’t volunteer because it was good ro right, or because Prim was young and bright and so very worth saving, but because Prim was hers.

Katniss was willing to die and kill to save Prim and to get back to her—until she meets Rue, who as Prim’s stand-in tickles those same Slytherin priorities, until she falls for Peeta. It did not become more immoral to kill/not save them because she came to know them better. She knew Peeta, in particular, was a person and a good one before she entered the arena, but she was willing to let him die if she had to. It was not until she decided he was one of hers that she was willing to gamble her own life for him.

Peeta looks a little bit like a Hufflepuff Primary, because his Secondary is so purposefully loud, and because the story is told from Katniss’s point of view. He shows care like a Hufflepuff—with care, service, and kindness, but that’s his secondary, his “how.” It’s his Slytherin Primary that makes him care and sacrifice specifically (and often solely) for Katniss. He wants her to live and he wants her to live more than himself—or innocent bystanders. Peeta’s willing to play the capital’s games—to trick the career tributes in the first book, to team up with useful people not good ones in the second Games—if it means saving Katniss. He tells her this, on the beach: if she’s not alive he doesn’t want to be. He’s a desperate and rather unhealthy self-sacrificing little Slytherin, but this is an unhealthy little world.

Speaking of desperate Slytherins—well, we’ll do Finnick a little later on.

-

Both Gale and Prim, by virtue of wanting to be in Katniss’s life, are really really good at modeling Slytherin. In Katniss’s absence, Gale prioritizes Prim and Mrs. Everdeen like a Slytherin might. He’s a good Gryffindor Primary at heart, so he tries to save everyone and feels guilty for every life lost, but for Katniss’s sake he saves them first.

Gale’s got a Ravenclaw Secondary— the comment in Mockingjay, understanding Katniss after the kiss. “I was in pain.” He’s observant, level-headed, and planned, whether it’s evacuating District 12, figuring out how to keep his people fed, or understanding the world and people around him.

Gale and Katniss get along well in their Gryffindor to some degree — he admires her secondary, her Mockingjay; she likes his steadiness, but seems to most of all appreciate his Slytherin model. By the end, he frightens her, because at her heart she values her people first and he does not. Truly, truly backed againt a wall, Gale will easily drop his hard won Slytherin model and do the right thing, no matter the sacrifice. At the end of the day, prioritizing the people he loved would make him feel guilty.

Prim is both really good at modeling her Slytherin sister and very good at modeling the usefulness of the Slytherin Secondary. She tells her sister to ask for things in District 13, because she understands that Katniss is powerful there, even if good straightforward Gryff Secondary Katniss does not. Under her effective Slytherin modeling, though, I think Prim’s got the service and generalized empathy of a Hufflepuff Primary, and the same practical, efficient Ravenclaw secondary as Gale. Where Gale uses his to save people, Prim, the young doctor, uses hers to help them.

-

Finnick was objectified and forced into prostitution from what we’re left to assume was a very early age— he was fourteen when he won his game, and it’s implied that he was already a sex icon at that point. The way he turned that abuse into a way for him to accumulate power against the capitol, to collect their secrets and stockpile weaponized information, is all Slytherin Secondary. As we already mentioned, when he’s onstage smiling at the capitol, he doesn’t mean it. But something that Finnick is excellent at is using truth. Not just in terms of secrets, but in terms of performance. When he wishes goodbye to that “special someone”, he’s entirely aware that he’s playing on the heart-strings and lusts of the people in the audience, but it comes off so genuinely because he’s directing it at his Annie.

It’s a truth hidden inside a secret, masquerading as the truth. He has layers of deceit and honesty and misdirection, and it’s with the adaptive impulse of the Slytherin secondary that he’s able to keep everything straight. He gives them what they want in the moment and lets them underestimate him. Who needs deeper consistency of persona, like Peeta builds? Finnick’s strategy is not about building an honest rapport. It’s a series of intuitive indulgences that work because they take advantage of how people, especially the people in the Capitol, see what they want to see. Finnick uses his secondary like a magician. At the beginning of Mockingjay part 1, we follow the sounds of his sobbing to his room only to find him sitting on his bed, clearly upset but no longer demonstrative. He’s carefully constructed a mask, and can decide when to let it crack.

(Can you tell I love Finnick? I love Finnick. -Kat)

Finnick has had such reason and opportunity to petrify— to scar his possibilities for further hurt by refusing to bond and value anyone outside himself. This is how a Slytherin Primary goes cold, the same way a Hufflepuff gets disillusioned and burrows in on themself, or a Gryffindor loses faith. Finnick has been through far and enough to justify this boy having a little black heart of petrified charcoal. But somehow, despite the Hunger Games, despite his abuse in the Capital, despite the fact that Snow’s go-to ploy is to blackmail you with those you love— Finnick finds and creates deep, vulnerable bonds with Mags and Annie. There’s a bravery and defiance in that refusal to go cold, to stay safe.

This also makes Finnick’s words in Mockingjay particularly striking when he wishes Annie dead— it sounds a little terrible, yes, but from Finnick’s style of Slytherin that’s a mature and selfless thing to wish for. Annie’s death is going to scar him, even deeper than Mags. She is a vulnerability and weakness; but Finnick is mature enough to value Annie over the effect Annie has on him. Her death is going to kill him, in one way or another; it might finally petrify him, the way nothing else so far has been able to— but this is not about him and he recognizes that. He’s thinking about her.

tl;dr

Katniss is the epitome of a powerful Slytherin/Gryffindor— a Slytherin committed to her few people against all odds, and changing the very world around her with the unintentional leadership of a sincere Gryffindor Secondary

Peeta is a Slytherin Primary as well, with an even smaller inner circle of people than Katniss, but it’s masked by his Hufflepuff Secondary’s warmth.

Prim is a giving, service-oriented Hufflepuff Primary with an analytical Ravenclaw Secondary and a cunning, clever Slytherin Model. 

Gale, who tries to fight for the world, is a Gryffindor Primary, with a deliberate, observant Ravenclaw Secondary. He’s also got a Slytherin Model that comforts Katniss. 

Finnick is a Slytherin/Slytherin and he needs a lot of hugs. 

Being Finnick Odair’s little sister would include (requested by anon)
  • being the kindest around literally everyone, he’d turn into the opposite when someone is bothering you. 
  • him teaching you how to swim.
  • which seems like a game, is a training to him, teaching you how to fight just in case. (not telling you of course)
  • cheering you up when you’re sad/ in a bad mood, not stopping until you smile again
  • him nicknaming you, which is maybe a bit annoying sometimes
  • “Come on sugar, don’t frown. It makes you look much older.”
  • “Don’t call me that, Finnick.”
  • being the winner and being the women’s “darling”, he didn’t ask only for secrets but for your safety as well
  • him being the most trustworthy person - you can tell him everything.
  • having a bad dream, he’d tell you some non violence including stories of the capitol and his time during games, making them funny and comforting you until you fall asleep again.
  • “But what if I’m the next tribute?”
  • “Sh, I will not let that happen. You will be safe.” 
  • The first thing he’d ask in District 13 “Where is (Y/N)?”
  • being protective, wanting you to stay at his side, always defending you.
  • sharing his food with you even though he didn’t eat much
  • referring you and Annie as the most important women in his life, admitting he couldnt live without you. 
  • You being the one he’d trust with taking care of Annie whilst he is gone.
65th Hunger Games

(Finnick x Reader)

Request:  Could I have a Finnick x Reader oneshot where the reader and Finnick are reaped for the 65th hunger games? During the time they spent in the capital they grow close and form and alliance but the reader dies in the games? Sorry if it doesn’t make sense.

Warnings: character death


You volunteered together with Finnick for the 65th hunger games, being from district 4 meant you were a career tribute and went into the games willingly. Though you knew there probably wasn’t a chance you’d ever beat Finnick if it came down to it. You had seen him fight and it scared you. He was better than you, much better.


You watched as Finnick tested out all the weapons in the training room. It was impressive but you were more interested in finding any weaknesses he might have. Until now you hadn’t found any.

“That fascinated by my skills?” Finnick asks you, seeing how intensely you had been watching him the entire time.

“Yes you certainly are impressive though I’m more into finding something you’re not good at.”  You smile, jumping off the bench you were sitting on and walk over to him.

“Why I thought we were allies?” He says with a sly smirk when you’re closer to him.

“Oh we are. Until no one else is left and you try to kill me.”

“Maybe we’ll be killed before that can happen.”

“Maybe not. I just like to be prepared and not get stabbed in the back.”

“Now that’s cunning I would stab you in the front.” He gives you an apologetic smile. Both of you knew it would happen at some point after all.

“I wouldn’t.” You say with a grin, “There’s no chance I’d win that way.”

“You’re clever maybe you outlive me after all.” He reaches his hand out to you, “Tell you what…how about we’re friends until we actually have to kill each other.”

You cross your arms and eye him suspiciously but take his hand. Going into the games without any help was the fastest way to get killed, you just had to trust him for now.

“All right.” You shook hands, sealing your deal.


In the end you were glad to have Finnick at your side. He was a good friend to you throughout all the craziness that went down in the capitol. You wouldn’t have gotten through all the stupid interviews and everything else without someone to talk to.

After you went into the arena you went to find Finnick, the two of you staying together the whole time. You almost thought you had a chance to make it after all since Finnick had gotten injured during the last attack from another tribute.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re thinking.” He says and laughs a little.

“Sorry.”

“Oh don’t worry I’d do the same.”

He patted you on the back and started to walk in front of you, “Come on we should find somewhere to stay for the night.”

“…Finnick.” You whispered and he turned around to see what was wrong. His eyes grew wide in shock when he saw the arrow, piercing through your stomach. He ran over and you collapsed into his arm as blood came flowing through your wound. There was no amount of medicine that could patch you up.

“Damn it…no. You were supposed to win this not me…” He whispers sadly.

You bring your hand up to his cheek, stroking it lightly, “Finnick…please make it out alive.” You smile up at him, vision already going blurry. Your strength began to slowly leave you, the last thing you saw was Finnicks face.

He stayed with you until you didn’t move anymore, even stayed after that. He had said he’d kill you in the end but seeing you like this now he would have never gone through with it. He would have died, letting you live but now that wasn’t an option anymore. He was going to fulfil your wish, he was going to kill everyone still alive.

Finnick won the 65th hunger games at the cost of someone he cared deeply for. The loss never really leaving him, the lonely feeling setting in whenever he thought of you. He was alone back in the capitol and it hurt every day.

givemeastoryandmusic  asked:

Hi! My birthday is on Sept. 6th! I'd love either best friends to lovers, or an arranged marriage fic. But honestly, any fic with any rating would do, as long as there's fluff! <3 This blog is awesome, thank you so much!

Originally posted by gameraboy

Wishing you a most happy birthday! Just for you, the amazing @norbertsmom has written this perfect little slice of Everlark perfection. We hope you enjoy, and have a wonderful day!


Best in Class

“You’re late, Mellark,” Katniss complains, scowling at her approaching friend.

“Sorry,” Peeta replies, holding out a bakery bag as compensation, tilting his head to the side and giving her puppy dog eyes.

“I’m starving,” Katniss grumbles as she grabs the bag out of his hand, tearing it open and inhaling deeply before closing her eyes and letting out a sigh.

Katniss reaches into the bag and pulls out two cheesebuns and hands one to Peeta. “Why are you dressed up?” she asks before she stuffs the other cheesebun into her mouth.

Keep reading

To my friend @arbyeatscheesebuns It was a pleasure writing this and I hope you have enjoyed it as much as I have. Tonight ends the official Christmas Season for me. This is the conclusion.  If you would like to read the first chapters you can do them by clicking here

Thank you for your kindness to @hijacked-victor, and @titania522 for the encouragement and edits and for the banner created by the lovely @otrascosasseries

Thank you Suzanne Collins for the Hunger Games (which I do not own.)


It was the morning of Christmas Eve. Katniss sat in the local jail cell wondering what was going on. It was empty and silent. When they arrested her, Peeta tried to help her. He told them he was not kidnapped. The cops arrested her anyways and dragged her out of her house. Katniss rubbed her face.

She was glad her family was not arrested. They were in shock and upset especially with the wild accusations Glimmer and her crony Clove were making at the time of the arrest. Katniss was sure her family most likely abandoned her. She refused to make her one free call, there was no one who she could call. Angry frustrated tears appeared fell from her eyes. Once more Katniss felt sorry for herself, thinking everyone abandoned her.

“Katniss Everdeen?" 

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Storm the World with Reckless Abandon

Snippet #7

“So, how’re we going to kill Snow?”

Finnick choked spectacularly.

It was the next day when Ichigo strode into the kitchen, flopped himself onto one of the chairs, and oh so casually dropped that particular bomb.

Finnick, who had been blearily sipping his second cup of coffee after another sleepless night full of nightmares triggered by the whole reveal of the games, was coughing up a lung by now from Ichigo’s off-handed brusqueness. He snapped his head to look at him with such a scandalized, horrified expression that Ichigo was used to getting from, well, everybody. That is, until it transforms into 1000% done, longsuffering expressions that only becomes more frequent the more he pulled crazy stunts that only got crazier as time went by.

Ichigo didn’t know why Finnick was so surprised though. He was pretty sure he made it very clear yesterday when he basically declared he was going to stop Snow at any cost.

And by stop, he meant kill. Obviously.

To Ichigo’s confusion, Finnick whirled his head around wildly as if expecting an army to crash in from the windows and attack them at any moment. When it became clear that no one was, in fact, out to get them, Finnick shot Ichigo a heated glare that held more panic than anger than what Ichigo was used to receiving from the usually easy-going man.

Don’t say things like that! Are you suicidal?” Finnick lowered his voice, face tightened. “There’s audio cameras here. We’re lucky I still have it disengaged right now.”

Ichigo gave a deadpan, you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me look.

“Really?” the one word held so much I’m-so-done-with-this-bullshit emotion into it, that Ichigo was surprised at himself for having enough control not to throw his hands up and just walk away like an overdramatic teenager. Damn it, it was way too early in the morning to deal with this crap.

Finnick shrugged, something like bitter resignation twisting his lips in a ‘hey, what can you do’ manner that spoke volumes over how messed up it was.

“All the victors are watched 24/7. Snow-” Finnick cuts himself off, something haunted flickering in his sea-green eyes. “Snow likes to keep a look out for any sign of rebellion. Or happiness really.”

Okay. Snow was now officially on his fucking shit list because this was just plain absurd. It’s fucking Aizen all over again.

He knew lots of people thought he was oblivious to most things, but Ichigo wasn’t fucking born yesterday. He could see the signs. Ichigo’s been reading into what Finnick’s been saying about the Capital and Panem for days now. How some districts were so much poorer than others and how all the productions seem to be supporting the Capital as a whole, which had been strange in itself before last night. And sometimes, when Finnick thought he wasn’t looking, there was a sort of deep-set dread in his posture, as if the weight of the world was resting on his shoulders and it was only piling up by the day.

Ichigo had always thought fame was overrated, and now he had proof. Because if what Finnick said about Snow was as bad as he says, than Ichigo could only imagine what Finnick would’ve had to do to stay on Snow’s good side. The fact he was so very public and famous only added to the pressure of ‘don’t screw this up.’

And if it started at fourteen? Barely out of pre-teen years? Yeah, Ichigo could see why Finnick would wear a mask like it was artform by now. Hell, even Urahara’s fake annoying grins looked more genuine than the twenty one year old victor’s.

Not only that, he would have to be a special kind of idiot to not notice how Annie was more than a little unhinged. When they talked, sometimes she would stop in mid-conversation, eyes distant and gone, as if she’s reliving some distant, horrifying memory over and over again. She would rock back and forth, little whimpers escaping her mouth as her whole body shook. The first time it happened, Ichigo had been more than a little freaked out and had instinctively grabbed onto her hand as she began to tremble, meticulously rubbing the small area on her back like he did with his sisters whenever they had a nightmare.

Thankfully, it worked. Her breathing evened out and her grip on his hand was so tight that her knuckles turned white as she did.

Finnick, who had heard the commotion, barged outside where they were out on the porch, eyes wide and frantic. He had looked completely shell-shocked at the fact Annie had calmed down on her own (which didn’t bode well over the state of her mind). But once she clambered to her feet and fiercely hugged Finnick like she was barely holding on, it was like Ichigo wasn’t even there anymore.

Finnick softly kissed her forehead with a reverence that would’ve had Ichigo blushing if it weren’t for the fact the action was meant to comfort, innocent and so full of tenderness that it was heartbreaking.

Ichigo had quietly went inside, leaving the two behind. He may be an oblivious idiot when it came to love, but even he knew better than to encroach on such an intimate moment.

When Annie left, Ichigo didn’t even ask what that was about, something Finnick had been immensely grateful for he could tell. His instincts were practically screaming at him that her state of being was wrong, that something terrible must’ve happened to turn her into such a wreck. And somewhere at the back of his mind had darkly suspected that it hadn’t been an accident.

And unfortunately, now he’s proven right.

It all made sense. What Annie and Finnick had to have gone through to make them so broken made Ichigo’s blood boil and have fury consume him till he saw red. Even Shiro, who usually didn’t really care for such injustices, snarled with homicidal wrath that trembled his mental world from the sheer combined fury they both felt. And for both of them to agree that Snow had to die, well…

It just showed how much of a bastard Snow truly was.

“Seriously,” Ichigo gave in and threw up his hands in the air in complete aggravation. “why the hell haven’t you people tried to kick his damn ass yet? Rally together or something? From what you’re telling me, he’s a fuckup and everybody knows it.”

A quicksilver smirk flashed across Finnick’s face at Ichigo’s blatant insult to the President, but it quickly smoothed over the a grim line from the topic at hand.

“It’s not that simple. He has support in the career districts, mostly in District 1 and 2. Districts 3 and 4 are half and half due to the fact there are so many peacekeepers in the area, more than most districts except 11. And the Capital has no problem in wiping out an entire District. That’s what happened to District 13 when they tried to rebel decades ago.”

“What about assassination? Fuck, why not just fucking shoot the guy the moment he’s in sight for the whole damn world to see? It cannot be that hard.”

“And risk retaliation and annihilation to another district again if we fail?” Finnick shook his head. “No, it would be way too risky. And people are always unarmed the second they get anywhere near Snow’s premises. Unfortunately, peacekeepers are very thorough.”

Ichigo scowled in irritation at Finnick’s denial over his suggestions. Finnick, picking up his growing frustration, sighed and sipped his coffee before he finally spoke again.

“What did you mean yesterday when you said you wouldn’t play Snow’s games?”

Ichigo shot him an are-you-stupid look.

“Exactly how it sounds. I’m not killing those kids, no way in fucking hell. Snow can shove his games where the sun doesn’t fucking shine, I’m not fucking doing it.”

He was a protector. It was his damn job to keep people safe, not hunt down children and murder them like a deranged serial killer.

Twelve year olds. He inwardly snarled like a beast at the very idea. It was sickening.

Yuzu and Karin flashed in his mind for a moment and he had to clench his fists as rage coursed through his body and left him homicidal. Like fucking hell he’ll ever let that happen to someone else.

“You have to.” Finnick insisted, looking somewhat pained.

Ichigo snorted.

“No. No, I really don’t.” Ichigo shrugged nonchalantly. “I’ll think of something, don’t worry about it.”

Finnick looked close to the breaking point of frustration. Yet another familiar expression Ichigo was used to.

Before Finnick could strangle him where he sat, Ichigo got off his chair and grabbed an apple from the table off the counter as he began to walk away. Waving a hand behind him flippantly, he began to stride back towards his room, terminating the conversation effectively.

Behind him, Ichigo swore he heard a strangled noise before something thunked violently on some hard surface. He was probably imagining things.

Notes: Okay, well, sorry that it’s been a while since I’ve updated. I hate finals with a firey, burning passion and have so many papers to write, you have no idea. Thank you for all the support and I’m very pleased so many people like this. Please comment, reblog, or message me and recommend more fics if possible. I’d be the happiest person alive if anyone could. Thank you! And I hope you enjoy.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15

ZOOTOPIA SURPRISE VILLAIN

Now, before I start discussing who I believe the surprise villain for Zootopia is, let me address this to all the haters for Disney providing “surprise villains!” – they provide empathy to the villains (Callaghan/Zootopia villain), or, it makes them that much more dark and twisted (Turbo/Hans). Hate Disney all you want for providing surprise villains but I personally prefer surprise villains over regular ones as it opens up to discussions and more interpretational approaches to the villains motives.  Look, I love Ursula, Dr. Facilier, Jafar, Maleficent, Captain Hook etc, but let’s be real, their motives are two dimensional which is disappointment for such classic characters…

Now that the rant’s over, before I identify the villain, let me cancel out the two most popular considered villains: Gazelle and Bellwether

As far as Gazelle goes, the most obvious reason as to why she cannot be a villain is because of her song and character. I’ve listened to the full version of Try Everything, and let me tell you, it is the most inspirational hero anthem out there. It sounds so much better and relevant than Immortals ever did, plus, Gazelle’s the embracer of multiculturalism, she doesn’t discriminate against predator and prey so she wouldn’t be heartless enough to do such a thing. 

Now, let’s consider Bellwether. Sure, there’s the argument that she mirrors Judy with her predicaments and is a reflection of patriarchy in executive positions for “doing all the hard work for Mayor Lionheart”, but, there’s two things that prevent her from being the villain too. Firstly, what would her motives be to be mayor if she was to be the theoretical villain? Discriminate predator and prey to the point where they’re segregated? Sure, that motive could make sense… if she wasn’t Assistant Mayor. As Assistant Mayor, she has a lot of privileges not available to other animals so that would be satisfactory for her, plus, prey animals have been so integrated into Zootopia that Zootopia would end up being too dystopian for her to run. Bellwether has enough on her plate as she is… So, what other “surprise villain” could possibly have a chip on their adorable shoulder? This guy! 

Wait, that’s his disguise! it’s this guy…  

Yeah, Finnick. Seems a little odd right? Nick’s friend is suddenly starting a revolution? Well, let’s look at what we currently have. He’s a fox (specifically, a Fennec fox) like Nick. Now, there’s a key point you have to understand about Nick: his belief is that “you are what you are” a polar opposite of Judy’s “Anyone can be anything”. If we place stereotypes into account, we can see that Nick is the archetypal prankster. Deceiving cause he’s a Fox, and who does he do this with? Finnick of course! Nick and Finnick are the supposed duo before Judy gets thrown into the duo and replaces Finnick as this is Judy’s story. Let’s backtrack real quick, what’s this got to do with Finnick? Well, if Nick Wilde the Fox believes “you are what you are” then Finnick is “you are what you are” to the extreme. Predators are aggressors and prey animals are nothing more than food. Nick and Finnick are parallels in the context that they’re both foxes and they both are stereotyped for who they are and cannot seem to change in the public’s eye. The difference between Nick and Finnick is that Finnick doesn’t have a Judy to re-consider his values, and even if he did, remember, he’s a (theoretical) extremist with his values. He wouldn’t be swayed by a “sweet bunny” who he sees as nothing more than an inferior animal. So, is that all to say about Finnick? Surely, there must be more to his motives… what his link to predators acting feral? What benefit does this have for him? Well, let’s evaluate his purpose in the plot (from what I’ve found). 

So far, as of posting this, all we know that he is a con-artist with Nick playing a child in an elephant costume. But who is he when his day job is over? As a deceitful fox, he could easily be conning Nick… but why would he do that? They seem to be doing good business? Their cons work and they’ve done it consecutively? WHAT IS HIS BIG CHIP ON HIS ADORABLE SHOULDER? 

Enter Judy. Judy is a small animal and that has prevented her from achieving her dreams as a Police Officer because she’s discriminated by the bigger animals. In a metropolis like Zootopia, do you really think that Judy’s the only one that’s struggling to overcome the “glass ceiling” (a sociological term used to describe a halt in progressing due to a specific factor of the individual, usually biological eg: race, gender)? Of course not, Finnick suffers from the same problem. His small stature results in being nothing more than wearing a costume to con which could feel really degrading for him. This is what makes Finnick parallel to Judy, albeit, their careers’ opposite spectrums of legislature. 

So, Finnick not only suffers from the discrimination of being a Fox just like Nick, but, he also gets discriminated for his size just like Judy! Add that to his values and you can see why you’re suddenly sympathetic to him. But as typical Disney villain fashion goes, there should be a reason for you to root against him right?

Well, simple, going back to the plot, he’s the one that’s making all the animals feral? So, how does he accomplish that? Easy, behind Nick’s back, he’s essentially “drugging” the ice creams and desserts that Nick and Finnick con (Mr. Otterton may have been a customer henceforth Nicks association with him), and sometime down the plot, Judy and Nick would have a rift because Finnick would remind Nick of what he really is and that “Rabbits will always see foxes as the devils” giving Nick have a moral dilemma. Plus, it’s a means of placing the initial “crime he didn’t commit plot” back into play. But even taking all that out of the equation, Foxes eat Rabbits. Going back to my theory of Finnick being an extremist, he’d just have an instinctive hatred for herbivores (especially Rabbits), so, in order to eliminate them (as they can no longer be food) he turns all carnivores feral to eliminate unwanted herbivores and de-socialises and imprisons carnivores so that he has a position of power!

Christmas Day

It’s Christmas morning. On a day just like this one, five years ago I was sitting on a train from the Capitol anxiously waiting to see Annie after the doctors decided I was well enough to return home. It was Christmas Day and the only gift I wanted was to see my wife, but what I found was better than anything I could have ever asked for: my son.

I’ll admit it was all kind of overwhelming. Imagine waking up from a coma months after you nearly die only to come home to find out you’re a father. I was surprised to say the least. Though Annie would deny it, I really struggled at first. Parenthood is not as easy as you might think. Annie had had five months of practice, and I had missed it all. But I adjusted soon enough and Caspian, Annie and I were happy.

The three of us love Christmas so our house is decked from head to toe with decorations. I wake up earlier than Annie and Caspian to make breakfast (Christmas-themed of course). I also might have forgotten to wrap the presents but I’d deny it if Annie asked.

I’m probably more excited about Caspian’s Christmas present than he’ll be about it, but that’s the whole point of gift-giving (Annie disagrees).

I wrap my presents and cook at the same time, which I’d use to prove to Anne that I can indeed multi-task except then she’d just point out that I’m wrapping my presents on Christmas and I’d definitely lose that battle.

I place my presents under the tree and take the stairs two at a time. I go to Caspian’s room first. I sit on the edge of his bed and kiss his forehead. “Good morning, Cas.” He groans and pulls the covers over his head. Typical, he’s just like me. “Cas…”

“Dad, go away. I’m tired,” he mumbles.

“So I guess you don’t want to open your presents. That’s cool, I’ll just give ‘em back-”

“Presents?” He jumps out of bed and I catch his wrist before he can run downstairs and tear through my very carefully wrapped gifts. “Dad!” He whines.

“Breakfast first,” I laugh. “Come on, let’s wake Mommy.” His face lights up and he runs to our room. He’s on the bed, jumping up and down before I even walk in the room.

“Cas,” grumbles Annie. “Stay still.” He laughs and shakes his head. “Finn! Get your child under control.”

“My child?” I chuckle. “MY child?”

“Yeah. All of this,” she laughs as she tackles him to the bed, “he gets from you.”

“Are you calling me childish?” I gasp and jump on the bed with them. She smiles and rolls her eyes.

“Mommy, let me up! It’s Christmas!” He screams. I meet Annie’s eye and we start a tickle war, which as always, I lose when they gang up against me.

“You guys are not fair,” I protest from under the covers where I’m hiding.

“Uh huh. Come on, Finn. I’ll make breakfast.”

“No need!” I grin.


We eat our breakfast together and Caspian and I wolf down the pancakes anxious to exchange presents. “Children, please, calm down,” teases Annie.

When we’re finally done we go to the living room and sit on the floor by the tree. “Mommy first,” I say. Cas grabs his present, which I helped him make a few days before but it was entirely his idea. She unwraps the picture frame we both decorated with seashells and sea rocks we spent a good three hours collecting. The frame holds a picture of the three of us smiling at the beach. Annie chuckles and hugs him. “Thanks, baby,” she whispers and flashes me a smile.

I grin and hold mine out. She unwraps it and gasps. Right before Snow started selling me to the Capitol I gave Annie a silver locket for her birthday. It was shaped like a seashell and had a picture of the two of us. When the peacekeepers took Annie to the Capitol after the Quell, they took it from her and never gave it back. “Finnick… How did you get this back?”

“One of my friends from the Capitol, he was going through some old junk in the Presidential mansion, clearing it out and stuff, and he found this. He called me right away about it,” I say. She flings herself at me before I can react and so we both get knocked down to the floor.

“Oh, Finnick, I can’t believe you found it.” She sits up and hangs it around her neck. “Cas’ turn?” I nod.

Annie runs to the study and wheels back a bicycle. Cas is beside himself with excitement and he steers recklessly around our living room. “Daddy look! I can ride a bike!”

“Yeah, we might as well take off the training wheels already,” I laugh. “Can I go ride outside? Pleaseeeeee”

“After we’re done! I have something for you too, you know?” He perks up at the idea of another gift and dismounts the bike clumsily.

“What did you get me, Daddy?” I pick up my present and place it in his hands. He barely tugs at the paper and the whole thing falls off. “A fishing rod?”

“Well, I mean it’s no bike,” I say.

“I LOVE IT! Can we go fishing together, pleaseeeee?” Annie and laugh but we have to take the rod from him when he starts to get a little too excited.

“Okay, Daddy, your turn.” He picks up a small box and hands it to me. I open it to find a bracelet like the ones Annie loved to make. “Mommy taught me how.” He helps me tie it around my wrist and shows me one he’s wearing around his own. “See? Now we match.”

I ruffle his hair and kiss his cheek. “I love it.” Annie bites her lip and runs to the study again. She comes back and I frown.

“Please tell me that’s not what I think it is.” She hands me a very trident-shaped present and sighs. I tear off the paper and shake my head. “Annie,” I look at Caspian. “Why?”

“Finnick. When I got back from the arena you nagged me until I went swimming again. You know you love fishing with a trident. Don’t you want to teach Caspian how to use it in a few years like your father taught you?”

“Annie…”

“Finn, it’s been five years, Love.” I sigh and roll my eyes.

“I’ll do it for Caspian. Because my father would have wanted him to learn.” She smiles and kisses my cheek. “Thank you, Annie.”

“Daddy, Daddy? Can we go fishing? And can we go ride my bike? Can you teach me how to use a trident? Mommy! Come fishing with us!” He screams and drags us outside. I laugh and roll my eyes. I pick up my fishing gear and Annie carries Caspian outside and we spend the rest of the day enjoying our Christmas presents.

anonymous asked:

You are my dentist ad I have the bigest crush on you and one time you give me too much laughing gas so I end up telling you that AU??? with Katniss as the dentist???!!! :D

The overhead light is blinding, and Peeta squints against it, shifting uncomfortably in the dentist chair. He tries to focus on the music filtering through the corner speakers, some elevator music, adult contemporary song, as if it’ll calm his nerves.

He hates doctors, and by extension he hates dentists. Which is why he’s here now, waiting for a cavity filling because he went too long without a cleaning and a checkup. The dental hygienist, Annie, preps the array of tools the dentist will be using today, but she tells him with an encouraging smile that Dr. Everdeen will be there shortly. 

He doesn’t know Dr. Everdeen, he’s only here on his friend Finnick’s suggestion, whose girlfriend is Annie. Knowing of Peeta’s aversion to dentists, Finnick assured him Dr. Everdeen would be gentle with him, unlike his last dentist, Dr. Abernathy, who practically butchered his gums.

Another five minutes pass before Dr. Everdeen enters.

“Good morning, Mr. Mellark,” she greets, and Peeta cranes his head around toward the door to look at her.

“Good morning—uh,” he falters slightly at the sight of her, nearly swallowing his tongue.

Finnick didn’t warn him that Dr. Everdeen was fucking gorgeous.

She smiles tightly at him, her gray eyes flashing, before she turns to consult with Annie, talking in hushed tones as the hygienist recounts Peeta’s cavity issue to her. Peeta tries not to blatantly stare at her, his eyes betraying him as they continuously dart in her direction. Her white coat is fastened shut around her petite frame, but it reveals slim, olive-toned legs and a tapered waist. Her black hair is pulled out of her face in a high ponytail, aside from the fringe that falls across her forehead and frames her eyes.

He’s not sure if an attractive dentist makes this whole situation better or worse.

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10

Suddenly, a memory surfaces. I’m strapped to my bed, mad with rage and grief after the rescue. Finnick is trying to console me about Peeta. “They’ll figure out he doesn’t know anything pretty fast. And they won’t kill him if they think they can use him against you.”

“You did warn me, though. On the hovercraft. Only when you said they’d use Peeta against me, I thought you meant like bait. To lure me into the Capitol somehow,” I say.

“I shouldn’t have said even that. It was too late for it to be of any help to you. Since I hadn’t warned you before the Quarter Quell, I should’ve shut up about how Snow operates.” Finnick yanks on the end of his rope, and an intricate knot becomes a straight line again.

“It’s just that I didn’t understand when I met you. After your first Games, I thought the whole romance was an act on your part. We all expected you’d continue that strategy. But it wasn’t until Peeta hit the force field and nearly died that I Finnick hesitates.

I think back to the arena. How I sobbed when Finnick revived Peeta. The quizzical look on Finnick’s face. The way he excused my behavior, blaming it on my pretend pregnancy. "That you what?”

“That I knew I’d misjudged you. That you do love him. I’m not saying in what way. Maybe you don’t know yourself. But anyone paying attention could see how much you care about him,” he says gently.

Anyone? On Snow’s visit before the Victory Tour, he challenged me to erase any doubts of my love for Peeta. “Convince me,” Snow said. It seems, under that hot pink sky with Peeta’s life in limbo, I finally did. And in doing so, I gave him the weapon he needed to break me.

Finnick and I sit for a long time in silence, watching the knots bloom and vanish, before I can ask, “How do you bear it?”

Finnick looks at me in disbelief. “I don’t, Katniss! Obviously, I don’t. I drag myself out of nightmares each morning and find there’s no relief in waking.” Something in my expression stops him. “Better not to give in to it. It takes ten times as long to put yourself back together as it does to fall apart.” 

Well, he must know. I take a deep breath, forcing myself back into one piece.

“The more you can distract yourself, the better,” he says. “First thing tomorrow, we’ll get you your own rope. Until then, take mine.”