#t: hunger

[t-hunger]

sex is just so much better when it's plush and wobbling??? i don't make the rules??????

[district4widow]

salt in our wounds

finnick odair x reader

summary : you and finnick get separated in the blood rain, you reunite during the jabberjays incident, hearing your distorted voice, you fight to bring him back to reality. you comfort him through the chaos.

cw : (not proofread) angst, fluff, mentions of mild violence, blood rain, panic attacks and anxiety, implied physical injury (typical hunger games shit), nameless reader, poc friendly (hinted as black - mention of cornrows)

the jungle was a living, bleeding thing. red drips from the canopy like it’s been stabbed open, and everything—everything—smells like iron and rot. you can barely see through the downpour, even less with your bloodstained shirt plastered to your chest, your fingers slipping against the shaft of your knife.

“fuck,” johanna hisses behind you, voice sharp. “we need cover. now.”

you nod, jerking your head toward a dense cluster of ferns to your left. you and jo had been trying to double back to the others when the rain started—thick, hot, wrong. now you’re both covered in it. sticky, crimson, suffocating. you’d screamed finnick’s name when it began. over and over until your throat went raw.

but no one came.

no one heard.

or if they did, they were already in their own hell.

you don’t realize how far you’ve gone until the trees clear. until the sound shifts—not just rain, not just thunder, but screaming. sharp, constant, bone-deep.

that’s when you see them. peeta. katniss. and—

“finnick,” you breathe.

but it’s not the reunion you pictured—not the tear-soaked, arm-flung embrace your soul’s been begging for.

no.

he’s on his knees, his hands clenched in his hair, shouting, shoulders heaving.

and the screaming—it’s your voice.

your voice.

you stumble forward before johanna can stop you. it hits you in the chest like a gut punch: they’re using you.

your voice, twisted and looped, is echoing through the jungle, sobbing his name, begging for help, screaming in pain. all the things they knew would destroy him.

finnick is unraveling.

you focus on finnick again. the jabberjays are still screaming. katniss is screaming for her sister. trapped, she’s clawing at the glass wall

your thumb traces the invisible outline of finnick’s cheek. “you hold on, baby,” you murmur. “you hold on for me.”

he nods, just once. like it’s taking every shred of strength he has left.

behind you, johanna catches up, panting and bleeding from her arm. she sees what’s happening, hears your voice in the air and the panic in finnick’s body.

“fucking capitol,” she mutters. “fucking snow.”

but she stays back. lets you handle him. she knows this isn’t her moment.

you slide down to your knees, hands still on the wall, matching him. “come back to me,” you whisper.

he matches your position. lifts his hands. fingers splayed, trembling. mimicking yours on the other side of the wall.

the clock ticks down in your head. you’ve been in this arena long enough to feel the shift when a segment ends. and sure enough—after sixty long, agonizing minutes, the jabberjays vanish.

the screaming cuts out as the birds fall, as if a switch was flipped.

the glass wall begins to vanishes.

finnick stumbles forward.

you catch him.

he collapses into you like he’s been shot, his weight slamming into your chest, his arms clutching at you like you’re the only anchor left in a sinking world.

you cradle him, arms wrapping around his shoulders, your hand gripping the back of his neck. you press your lips to his temple and rock him gently as his body shakes with silent sobs.

you wrap around him like you’ve done a hundred times before. his face is in your neck, hands clutching at the fabric of your breasts like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered. he doesn’t sob. not anymore. he’s past sobbing. his body just shakes.

“i’m here,” you say again and again, even when your own voice cracks. “i’m here babe.”

people are staring.

you don’t care.

“cameras are probably wetting themselves,” johanna mutters nearby.

you don’t even turn around. “i don’t give a fuck about the cameras.”

she snorts. “didn’t think you did.”

you don’t realize how quiet it’s gotten until johanna screams.

“hey!”

you jerk your head up, still half-curled against finnick’s side. his body’s finally stopped shaking, your heart’s still in your throat, though. your hands still tangled in his hair.

finnick’s head lifts just slightly against your shoulder. you don’t say anything. you just hold him tighter.

johanna’s standing on the soil, blood dripping from her arm, eyes blazing like she could burn the whole fucking arena down with just a look.

she’s not screaming at you. not at the others.

she’s screaming at the sky.

at the cameras.

at him.

“how’s that sound, snow? huh? maybe we should set your backyard on fire—see how you like screaming into the dark with no one fucking coming!”

her voice cracks on fire, but she doesn’t stop.

“or better yet, maybe we drag your ass into the arena, drop in a couple jabberjays, and make you listen to your wife cry for help until you lose your goddamn mind!”

you don’t even look up. you just whisper, more to yourself than anyone,

“hope the cameras caught that.”

johanna laughs, bitter and sharp. “they fucking better have.”

the air goes quiet again. too quiet.

you glance up at the treeline.

no hovercams in sight.

“guess they cut us off again,” you mutter, relieved to finally have what you can ironically call privacy.

johanna turns around, shoulders heaving, and mutters, “fucking cowards.”

you almost say same.

later, the beach is quiet now.

sun beginning to dip. breeze soft on your skin.

you sit on the warm sand a few paces back from the shoreline, arms wrapped around your knees, chin resting on them. your cornrows are still damp, some blood dried at the tips. you should wash it out, but you don’t move.

you’re too busy watching him.

finnick’s maybe twenty feet out, standing where the tide kisses the shore. ankle-deep in the surf, his trident swinging low in one hand. he’s poking at the water, chasing fish like a kid would, letting out little whoops when one slips away from his reach.

he’s smiling. not wide, but real.

it’s not his stage-laugh. not the laugh the capitol dressed him in.

it’s real.

it’s yours.

and when you laugh back, low and breathless, he glances over his shoulder and grins like the sun cracked just for you.

you don’t know how long you stay like that — you on the beach, him dancing with the surf — but you do know that for the first time in years, it’s just you.

just this.

just you and him and the hum of the ocean.

you don’t notice you’re being watched until much later.

katniss and johanna are sitting further down the beach, perched on a piece of driftwood, both of them turned toward you. they’re not close enough to hear anything, but they’re close enough to see.

johanna’s chewing on a piece of dried root, legs splayed out like she owns the goddamn island. katniss sits stiffly beside her, eyes narrowed, head tilted slightly toward you and finnick. like she’s trying to understand what she’s seeing.

you don’t hide the way you’re smiling.

you don’t need to.

johanna lets the silence stretch before she says, real calm and low, “you really thought y’all were the only ones?”

katniss blinks. “what?”

“you and lover boy,” johanna says, nodding toward peeta off in the distance. “you think you invented tragic romance or something?”

katniss doesn’t answer.

johanna snorts, glances back at you and finnick — you laughing softly now, leaning your head back as he splashes you like a damn kid. you flick sand at him in return. he dodges it with that same cocky grin you’ve always known.

“they’ve been at it since they were like sixteen. first time I saw them kiss, i almost threw up. whole world could’ve ended around them and they wouldn’t’ve noticed.”

katniss swallows, glancing at you, then back at johanna.

“he never said anything.”

“yeah, no shit,” she mutters. “snow threatened to kill everybody they ever loved if he did. the capitol wouldn’t let them be public.” johanna rolls her eyes.

the cameras probably weren’t even on you anymore.

“he kept it quiet. protected her. played the capitol’s golden boy, kept everyone’s eyes off the real thing.”

katniss is quiet for a long time.

johanna leans back, stretches out. her gaze is still on finnick now, still on you — the way you just threw your head back laughing at something he said. the way he’s watching you like the world’s already ended and you’re the only thing left worth saving.

“don’t flatter yourself, everdeen,” johanna says, voice dry, but not cruel. “they were a goddamn tragedy long before you and peeta kissed in that cave.”

and across the sand, you laugh again — a warm, soft sound — as finnick drops his trident and runs toward you, dragging you up into his arms without hesitation.

katniss doesn’t respond.

johanna doesn’t expect her to.

[districtunrest]

Peeta to Katniss: Haymitch has his own life apart from us, you know

also Peeta, when Haymitch doesn't answer his daily phone call to tell him that Katniss is still out hunting and he remembered another funny story about his brothers and he added too much nutmeg to his cinnamon buns:

[cannibalfat]

getting caught between the walls of a pred’s starving gut as it clenches in hunger….not being nearly enough 🩷…. the resulting growl vibrating all over your body

[arthdoesart]

Hayffie but Effie is more bold and more cheeky (wip)

[chwzeglyth]

i miss them so much. i know they had SO much fun during the filming of tbosas. please bring them back to me

[lvve-talks]

hold on... im cooking.......

[justafewberries]

the price of a sponsored gift increases 38%/day in the 50th hunger games according to wyatt callow. if we assume this is still true in the 74th games, and we assume on day 1, the feast Katniss and Peeta received in the cave would have costed $1000 (likely a gross under estimate, but for simplicity's sake, we'll make it $1000) it means on day 13, their feast costed $65,830.65. According to the excerpt above, we know it actually costs much, much more. She says "a meal", not the feast, or multiple meals from the cave.

now let's do district 11's bread after rue's death. I'll be more conservative and assume it costs $100 to send someone bread on day 1, as bread is something katniss finds at the cornucopia. it is something more reasonable than the burn cream or a special weapon, like finnick's trident. Assuming it costs $100 to send bread on day 1, and that Katniss receives the bread on day 9, it would have costed the people of district 11 $1,815.15.

[t-hunger]

I dunno. Feedist zine fair. Imagine a world that could be chill and hold that.

[things-stronger-than-fear]

literally in another universe snowbairdplinth could've been THE revolution. they wouldn't even really need any allies, lbr.

like, between coryo's cunning, sej's conscience, and lucy gray's charisma? the snow name, the plinth fortune, the baird d12 but neither district nor capitol pedigree?

coryo could've actually been like, panem's first 20-year-old president, who outlaws the hunger games and who the districts still listen to because he has sej and lucy gray on side. and yeah maybe coryo still kills a bunch of people but like whatever, no one really bats an eye -- who's gonna mourn gaul, anyways? no one in the districts, that's for sure. even if gaul didn't suck ass they'd be busy with cool covey music and awesome new legislation.

in a better universe i am 100% certain snowbairdplinth could've managed a fairly bloodless revolution, six decades early.

[fiendishthinking]

Man I feel like I’m posting so much today but holy shit, I just got super fucking hungry out of nowhere- probably because I picked up food for my gf -and my stomach started going crazy

LISTEN TO THIS

[muskoxen]

Vibin'

So I've been thinking about how some of my favorite books vibe with one another, and a map might be a better format for this and this is really just for me to quiet my brain a little but whatever, here's the list:

(The top line book will be the ur-book that sets the vibe, usually a childhood favorite; this does not mean that these are necessarily kid-friendly books!) (If you actually see and read this post, please reblog and suggest books because I'm going to throw down some ur-books that I have yet to find any simpatico fellows for!) (I will update my list as I read and discover)

Murderbot

Is it just me or would El Higgins and Murderbot coexist well??? Also, can’t believe I almost forgot to put my favorite traumatized construct on this list!

Howl's Moving Castle

Emily Wilde and its sequels

Ten Thousand Stitches

Sabriel and its sequels

Vespertine

Sorcery of Thorns (specifically, Lirael and there's also a UU library but also a Mogget)

Nettle & Bone

The Blue Sword

Crown Duel

The Goblin Emperor

Crown Duel

The Vorkosigan Saga

The Queen’s Thief

Discworld

T Kingfisher's World of the White Rat, incl. The Saint of Steel series. The gnolls esp. feel Discworldish.

A Deadly Education and The Scholomance series. Both El and Vimes understand The Beast

To Say Nothing of the Dog, Doomsday Book and Connie Willis at large

The Lord Peter Wimsey series

PG Wodehouse

Ella Enchanted

Half a Soul and its sequels

The Lord of Stariel

Thornhedge awww

A Sorceress Comes to Call

The Hunger Games

The Locked Tomb

Also Vespertine (above) a bit. Lots of dead things, and sassy ghosts in your head, and religious fanatics, and eldritch horrors. TLT is A Lot so I don’t want to overpromise but the main character is an neurodivergent nun and she’s wonderful. Also there’s a hot priest. It is YA so significantly less gore.

His Dark Materials

Godkiller also vibes with THG a bit. Def a dash of Peenis.

Temeraire, except obviously Lyra would be friends with Temeraire and Pan and Lawrence would commiserate

Pride & Prejudice and Austen at large

An-Ever Fixed Mark and its universe

A Lady's Guide to Fortune-Hunting this author is so wildly unknown and underrated where is the discourse wtf

A Lady's Guide to Scandal

Memory of Morning. It’s a one hit wonder but it really, really hits for me. She’s a ship doctor who gets shore leave and gets to hang out with her bluestocking family during the season in a not-Britain. There’s language of flowers. There’s alien-intelligence-giant-glowing-octopodes. There’s a wee little doggy. I haven’t enjoyed anything else by this author but damn do I keep rereading this one.

The Beldam & the Baronet (Or, The Magician Debutante's Trials & Tribulations) by @dwellordream

Kate Daniels

Hidden Legacy but only the Nevada books sorry IA

The Inkeeper Chronicles obv

[mecharose]

sooo like. we all know that by Katniss's times District 2 are the ultimate Capitol bootlickers. do we think that Snow maneuvered them into being like that on purpose as some kind of twisted personal revenge on Sejanus and/or to make sure there'd never be another one of him orrrrr what...

[queer-book-character-tournament]

Character, book, and author names under the cut

Tamarin- Wings of Fire by Tui T. Sutherland

Kodiak Celius- The Darkness Outside Us by Eliot Schrefer

Jesper Fahey- Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo

Barb Azure Baird- The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes by Suzanne Collins

[tinycol-a]

Don’t tempt your fate little guy

[kindlythevoid]

Alright, everyone, say “Thank you, Suzanne Collins, for the epilogue to Sunrise on the Reaping.”