#finnick odair gif hunt

[leviathanspain]

Hello!! Would you be able to write a request for finnick? Just like he’s the capitols darling, reader is the capitals hound dog. Known to be fiercely protective and exceptionally violent and brutal. During the third quarter quell, katniss’ group is afraid of reader because they haven’t seen her all match, but they run into her and she defends them brutally against something? Sorry I know it’s specific:) love your writing!

my body is a cage

finnick odair x reader

synopsis: his focus was protecting katniss, but he sleeps with an eye open as long as you’re still out there..

a/n: i made some changes, jus go with it lmao

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“she’s still out there, katniss.” finnick had made this pointedly to katniss, who wanted to go out hunting for the remaining victors with johanna. you were shrouded in mystery, out of all the victors, finnick knew the least about you.

“where would she be?” peeta looked at finnick, who sighed, shrugging, “the arena is different than the arena she won in, i assume somewhere low to the ground-“ finnick sweeped the beach, eye catching on a rustle in the bush, straight across from them, “and close.” he remembered now how you had won your games.

you had tracked all the tributes like prey, manipulating their surroundings to kill them, it had been one of the most invigorating games for the capitol ever. “she’s a bloodhound, probably sniffed us out before we realized.”

johanna watched the area that finnick had saw you, but still offered her commentary, “she’s brutal, katniss.”

katniss looked at them all, surrounded by skilled people yet found herself doubting their abilities, especially her own. none of them were sure they’d win, not against her.

“the careers are the least of our worries with her out there.” peeta noted. finnick looked at him and shrugged, “she might just kill them herself.”

they knew getting back on the island was a bad idea. katniss ducked at the sound of a mysterious voice, feeling as something flew past her head, stabbing cashmere right in the chest.

“get up.” katniss looked up to see you, standing over her. you had an array of weapons on you, and you were reaching for another one. katniss felt the panic in her throat until you launched it at enobaria, who had thrown herself at katniss. “get up!” your voice sounded more frantic and katniss did, struggling from keeping her eyes off of you.

suddenly the island began to spin.

your grip was loosening, and you groaned with slight fear as you felt the cold water thundering against your feet. katniss reached out for you, “grab my hand!” she screamed, but the water trashing drowned her out.

you could see her hand amidst all the water and grabbed it tightly, closing your eyes as the island slowed to a stop.

you sat on the beach, alone as the others argued over you. katniss had defended you, deciding she wanted you as an ally. but finnick and johanna deemed it too risky, “she could kill us all in our sleep, then what?” johanna had made that point as one of your methods, and you inhaled sharply.

finnick glanced at you, noticing the solemn expression on your face. he had known that expression far too many times, and it made him change his mind.

“johanna.” finnick called her name and sighed, “she saved her life. that’s not something we can just ignore, we don’t even know her.”

there was silence between them all, katniss had looked to johanna, watching as she fought internally before giving in. “i’ll go get her, maybe threaten a little.” she stood up, taking her axe with her.

finnick looked to katniss as johanna left, “i’ll keep an eye on her. for you.” he knew that once katniss settled on allies, she settled. her choices weren’t always the best, but somehow it would work itself out.

“why did you save her?” finnick had taken the first watch with you. johanna had convinced him, as just having you as watch would be ‘asking for it’.

you shrugged, “why not.” there hadn’t been much decision making on the island. it was either her or cashmere, and you didn’t see much of a choice.

finnick looked at you, “i don’t believe that.” his eyes slid themselves back to stare at the beach and you scoffed, “and why is that?”

finnick shrugged, “no one would just randomly save someone without an ulterior motive.” he said it like a fact and you smirked, “do you have one?”

“have one what?” he looked confused, obvious by the furrow in his brow.

“do you have an ulterior motive?” you repeated the full length question and watched as finnick practically whipped his head around.

“no.” he stated plainly, and you rolled your eyes, “i saw you saved katniss, similiar to how i did. you and johanna can’t just be doing this,” you glanced back to katniss and peeta sleeping, “for nothing. whatever it is, finnick, is an ulterior motive.” finnick pursed his lips, almost as if he couldn’t believe it.

“i’ll let you have yours if you let me have mine.” you finished, catching his gaze. finnick knew there were layers to you. you were different than most victors, your brutality is what made you like the rest of them, the willingness to kill. but you were turning out to be way more than what meets the eye. whatever your motive was, finnick sensed it wasn’t malice.

finnick settled to watch the sun rise upon your face, ending the conversation with a nod.

finnick watched as you sat by the beach. it had been post jabberjays, you, him and katniss had all been trapped with the birds, fluttering and screaming your names. now it seemed, like you had decided to decompress by the beach, just as he was going to.

he piled up next to you, close but far enough to give you a good amount of space.

it was then that finnick realized you had been crying, tears evident on your cheeks. he had heard katniss yell her sister’s name, and he had heard annie. you had just screamed in response, as if you were trying to drown out the birds with your own voice.

“i’m sorry.” you apologized to finnick, wiping your eyes as he settled down. you sniffled, watching as the waves moved.

“don’t apologize, there’s no need.” finnick spoke, “who did you hear?”

there was silence for a moment, until you spoke, “my best friend.” your mind shuddered back the sound of his screams and you laughed, painfully. “he’s been dead for years. i killed him.” you admitted, “he died because of a mistake i had made during the games.”

your mind flashed back to the games, where you had accidentally launched a knife to his chest, thinking it had been another tribute.

“he had spent all of his games searching for me. and once he found me, i had killed him.” it was cruel for him to be your district partner, for only one would survive, but you “never thought it would be me.” you glanced at finnick, who had been listening.

“it was supposed to be him.” you cried, “i killed everyone else to get to him, and when it was down to four, was when he came to get me.” you shook your head, “there is nothing in this world that i loved more than him, finnick. now that he’s gone, there’s nothing left for me.”

finnick shook his head, “stop. you know that’s not true.” he tried to comfort you, your words mirroring his own thoughts.

“that’s my motive, finnick.” you revealed, “my body is a cage, and i can’t stand to live in it much longer.”

johanna had woken up abruptly. she clutched onto her weapon, eyes glancing around before she settled on the two figures on the beach. she squinted and made out finnick’s hair, and you. the only two missing from the group. you had your head leaned on finnick’s shoulder, as the two of you watched the rising sun.

[undercoveravenger]

Rising Tides

Pairing: Siren!Finnick Odair x Male!Reader

Requested: Yes

Request: “Siren finnick odair trying to enchant the reader with his song and beautiful muscles but can’t get it. Take the story whatever direction you want”

A/N: Happy Spooky Month! This is post #2 of my Spooky Month writing event - #3 will be launching on Tuesday, October 17th. Hope you enjoy!

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Throughout Finnick’s years he’d seen the other sirens of his pod pick off humans with ease, using their stunning looks and alluring voices to draw their prey below the inky waves of the sea. The human’s mistake dooming them to be torn apart by the pod, sirens ripping and tearing the human apart until the wisps of blood in the water is all that remains of them.

He’d doubted he would have any issues when his turn for the Hunt arose- he’d grown up knowing he was beautiful, with fins and scales the same cool seafoam color as his eyes and hair that shone almost golden. He had learned how to be charming, to play coy, and to use his looks to draw people in. He hadn’t learned how to deal with someone like you.

Finnick had known you would be his prey as soon as he saw you, a sharp pain seizing in his chest when he saw you walking along the seaside edge of your district, picking at bits of seaglass and shells absently as you meandered along the sand. He’d been transfixed by the way the sinking sun made your skin glow, the soft look in your eyes as you looked out over the waves reminding him a bit of himself and his family. 

He hadn’t been quick enough to sing for you that day, too distracted by you to remember how to string notes and words and melodies together before you wandered back up the beach and into town, but he had plenty of other chances. Apparently you were no stranger to the beach, making it a nightly habit to stroll down the sand, watching over the waves and examining the small treasures brought up by the current. Sometimes you were joined by one or two others, but Finnick could never really bring himself to pay them any mind, fixated on you the same way he always was.

He’d tried to sing for you on one of the evenings that you wandered the beach alone, voice echoing quietly over the low rush of the waves coming and going, smooth and soft and sultry just the way he’d been taught. Like he had expected, you perked up at the sound of his song, taking a thoughtless step closer to the waves lapping at the shore before seeming to snap yourself out of his spell, turning swiftly on your heel and making your way home with your hands clasped over your ears to block out his voice. For the first time, Finnick doubted himself. Was his voice not as alluring as he’d been told? What if you didn’t like his song? Was he not perfect enough to draw you in? Would his pod think him a failure?

His doubts gnawed at him further when you continued to flee from him when you heard his voice, and further still when he had laid himself out along a large rock protruding from the water so you could get a good look at the way the light gleamed off his muscles and still turned away from him.

He got lucky one day though, arriving at the shore just in time to see you set off in a small boat - something he’d heard you call a ‘kayak’- with several of your friends paddling off ahead of you in their own small crafts. He smiled a bit to himself as he heard a laugh escape you, slipping soundlessly back into the water and darting swiftly after you, tail propelling him effortlessly through the water in pursuit of his prey.

With your friends’ head start, it was pretty easy for him to separate you from them, waiting until they had rounded the edge of the bay before latching onto the small handle at the front of your kayak and tugging you further out to sea. You had scrambled to try to paddle back toward the bay and to your friends, but Finnick was stronger than you. He was faster. Built to cut through water without faltering. He was an apex predator.

Eventually Finnick deemed that he had you far enough from shore that you could no longer ignore him, releasing his hold on your tow line and moving to circle your boat, watching you curiously from just below the surface of the water. A laugh bubbled out of him at the way you twisted sharply in your boat to keep your eyes fixed on him and then having to scramble to right yourself when the sudden movement threatened to overbalance you.

He surfaced right beside the kayak, clawed hands gripping tight to the edge of the kayak, just beside your own. Finnick does his best not to put too much weight on the plastic vessel, knowing he could tip it easily and not wanting to scare you more than he already had. He wasn’t sure when his fixation on you had shifted from hunger to something so much softer but he didn’t want you to fear him. He didn’t want to hurt you, he just wanted- Well. 

He just wanted you.

He opens his mouth and for a moment he is torn between singing and speaking to you. There is a split second when he thinks about how easy it’d be to tip you out of the boat, to drag you beneath the waves and present you to his family like he was supposed to. He thinks about it for longer than he should’ve, but he knows he can’t. 

“Why do you keep running away?” He finally forces out, words twisted and strange on his tongue without the saccharine sweetness he’d been taught to use. “Why wouldn’t you look at me? Why did you leave when I called for you?”

You are visibly shocked by the way he looks at you and he knows it must seem strange, to see a predator like him begging at your side like a love-struck dolphin. 

“Because you’re going to kill me,” you say simply, edging back in your kayak despite there not being far to go. “I’ve heard the stories about your kind. If I got too close-”

Finnick’s brows furrow as he looks up at you, “Was.” he says, releasing your boat in favor of swimming slow circles around you. “Not anymore.” He tips his head back, studying the way the clouds drifted in front of the sun. 

“So you’re… not trying to kill me?” you ask cautiously, eyes not wavering from Finnick even as he started to preen at the attention.

Finnick laughs, tipping his head to look at you and flicking water at you with the fluke of his tail. “No, not anymore.” He dips under the water, reemerging on the other side of the kayak and propping his head up on the edge of it, studying you intently. “I should, if you listen to what my family says, but I don't want to. You’re… interesting." 

He can tell you're really not sure what to make of that, but his heart jumps in his chest at the hesitant smile you give him in return.

"Swim with me?" The words escape Finnick before he can catch them, coming out breathy and desperate in a way he'd never expected to find himself sounding. He rushes to continue before he can consider the weight of what he'd asked you to do, the way he might brush against you or his tail might curl around your legs and the way he might get a look at you in something less… covering… than your usual clothes if you agreed to swim with him. "Maybe not now," he amends, eyes dropping sharply to where one of his pointed claws taps out a rhythm on the thin plastic of the kayak. "You don't trust me yet and I don't blame you. But maybe meet me tomorrow? Give me a chance?"

Finnick could see the way you jerk up straighter in your seat and your grip on your paddle shifts as you pick up on the sound of your friends calling for you. He's not sure if your answer is just an attempt to shoo him off in time to get back to your friends or to keep them from seeing him or just something you said without thinking, but the second that yes escapes you he's pushing himself up out of the water to press a sea-salty kiss to your cheek and promising to meet you at the beach at sunset the next day. 

He dives then, submerging himself well below the waves and trailing slowly after you until he's sure you and your friends made it back to the beach and then watching for just a bit longer as you disappear out of view before beginning to meander back to the labyrinth of sea caves his pod calls home.

Sure, Finnick isn’t sure if you’ll actually show up, but for the first time in weeks, his confidence has been restored and his charm feels as secure as ever. He’s definitely going against his pod pursuing you like this, but with his luck rising with the tides, he can’t bring himself to care, not with someone like you at stake.

[muxshwriting]

in a week

Finnick Odair x reader

summary: nothing calms finnick like the feeling of your hand in his || summary: this is the hunger games, hunger games angst || words: 599 || masterlist

You find Finnick lying in the damp, dewy grass by the sand dunes. The wind is barely there, blowing gently across your face. His eyes are closed, arms stretched out and hands woven into the blades of grass.

You slowly sits down next to him, interlacing your fingers with his and ignoring the moisture that sticks to his skin. His breath stutters, eyes fluttering open and turning his head to face you. You simply smile, lying back to join him.

“Nightmare?”

He nods, not trusting his voice. Softly, you squeeze his hand. Even softer, he squeezes back.

His heartbeat slowed, regulating itself as you pressed your hand against his. Slowly, his arm brushed yours and you shuffled until you were pressed together, not an inch of space between you.

Dawn had not yet broken but there was no shame in lying there until dusk. The flowers could weave their way into your hair, dragonflies landing on your still legs before flying off once more. No one would bother them here. No one would even look for them.

Finnick's eyes drifted shut. He let sleep take him, exhausted from his restless night. Silently, you watched the sun rise as Finnick slept. The wind cooled your skin before the sun could warm it again. It basked his face in a golden glow that made him look like an angel. He looked peaceful. He didn't look tormented in the tranquility of this golden morning.

A furrow stitched itself between his brows, a small huff of air left his parted lips, a twitch of his head let you know what was happening. Slowly, you reached over with your spare hand and traced it down the side of his face. You squeezed the hand that held yours, rubbing your thumb soothingly over the back of it.

Finnick sighed but the tension left his shoulders and the crease in his eyebrows flattened once more.

In his dreams, he was back in the arena. It was always the arena. The arena is cold. The arena is lonely.

His entire body is damp from the lake he hunted in. He stalks out his prey like the apex predator he had recently become. In the days, he is constantly on edge, looking for other tributes and killing anyone who approaches him.

But at night, the air is even colder, clinging to his skin and settling on his bones. He lies completely still, staring up at the stars in the sky but too afriad to sleep. Every single night he contemplates letting someone kill him. He wonders how long it would take for a tribute to find him if he didn't move. The nagging feeling in the back of his head doesn't let the thought linger. He had to get back. He had to get home. He had to get to you. Home with you...

That's where he finds himself now. His skin is soaking in the moisture from the grass below but it doesn't settle cold on his bones. It flows through him, moving past. His hand tightens around yours unconsciously and your warmth calms him more than anything else could.

This could be his new forever. If he didn't have to perform for the Capitol and sell him body for Snow's benefit, he wouldn't move from this spot for a decade. He would sit by the sea, watching the tide rise and fall. Finnick would get out his Dad's fishing equipment and sit at the dock, waiting. It wouldn't even matter if he didn't catch anything, because it would have been anything other than his present life.

if you want a taglist, let me know. comment what kind of thing you want to see next x

[agent-grey-fics]

Scarred Survivors | Part 1 | Finnick Odair x reader

Pairing: Finnick Odair x reader Wordcount: 1k

Summary: The Capitol announces a twist in the Quarter Quell: victors will be reaped, again. Y/N Green, the "Huntress" and winner of the 69th Hunger Games, is forced back into the arena. Furious and betrayed, she faces Finnick Odair, who volunteers to participate in the games once again, reigniting old tensions.

AN: Hi guys, it's been a while. My life has been turned upside down after the death of my mom. I am trying to make the best of it and find distraction by starting to write again. It was hard to start again, I am trying my best to fall in love with writing again. Be kind. Love always, Lexi

It was two hours before the reaping when the capitol announced an emergency broadcast. You were sitting in front of the TV when they announced a change in the Quarter Quell: the two tributes were going to be selected from the existing victors group. ‘No!’ you threw your glass at the television as the realization set in. They screwed you over. Again. After you won your games you were promised a lifetime full of peace and prosperity. You didn't invest too much thought into it and simply allowed events to unfold. Trying to forget the trauma from the arena and the blood on your hands. During your games, Caesar Flickerman named you ‘The Huntress’. Instead of waiting the others out you actively hunted them down from day one, you were all going to die one way or another so you could at least try to survive. To your disbelief, you did. You became the winner of the 69 Hunger Games, being seventeen years old at the time.

Life after the games was never the same. There was a y/n before the games and a y/n after the games. The first weeks back home were a blur, between panic attacks and depressive episodes you drank your problems away. A little trick Haymitch taught you when you met him during your victor’s tour. When you settled in Victor’s village it was strange at first but you found your place among the others. Mags guided you as much as she could, just like she did in the games. It was nice being around people who understood what you had been through, and what you did to survive.

Tears were welling up in your eyes, Snow already took everyone you loved away from you. He no longer had any leverage to use you as one of his puppets, except to send you back into the arena. You ran your hands through your hair, you were not going to give him the pleasure of seeing you cry. You were going to look flawless and emotionless. He won't get you down, not this time.

Two hours later you were standing next to Mags. She held your hand tightly in hers while you were waiting for the reaping. They had placed all the previous winners of the games in front of the audience. One group consisted of the female winners and a second group where the male winners stood. ‘The time has come to select one courageous young man and woman for the honour of representing District Four in the 75th annual Hunger Games. As usual ladies first!’  Not me, not me, not me was all that you could think. There was a one in three chance that you would be chosen for this Quarter Quell, and you hoped to hear Annie's or Mags’ name, not caring for their well-being at the moment. It was selfish but you were sure that you wouldn’t survive a second time in the arena. The Capitol escort dug into the glazed jar until a single piece of paper remained between her fingers. She tiptoed to the microphone in her ridiculously high heels and cleared her throat uncomfortably. Everyone held their breath, waiting to hear which victor had to re-enter the arena. Not me, not me, not me.  ‘Y/N Green.’ 

All eyes turned to you and you could see your face on the big screen that was hanging above the makeshift stage. You were dumbfounded and stood rooted to the ground. Mags squeezed your hand in an attempt to reassure you a little. Not again. ‘Fuck.’ you breathed out as the peacekeepers walked towards you and reached for your frame. ‘I can walk on my own, don’t fucking touch me.’ You slammed their hands away and gave them a poisoned look. You were furious. Several sighs left the audience, some of relief the others of disbelief. Annie and Mags started crying, they were relieved that they wouldn’t have to re-enter the arena. On the other hand, their hearts broke for you because they knew what hell awaited.

‘And now for the boys.’ You zoned out, not caring about what was going on. Flashes of your first games raced by. You never trained as a career, well not fully but you were pretty skilled in hand-to-hand combat both on the ground and in the water. During your games you hunted the other tributes down, Taking advantage of your skills in hand-to-hand combat. ‘Thomas Henderson.’ You were startled out of your train of thoughts when you heard his name. Unconsciously, you held your breath and let out a relieved sigh when you saw him walking towards the stage. That was the other thing, during your years in the victor's village and the Capitol you- ‘I volunteer as tribute.’ The public gasped in union when the words echoed through the air. His voice was laced with confidence, a weird sound in this kind of situation. Your jaw almost dropped. Thomas stopped in his tracks as the other was guided towards the stage. ‘What are you doing?’ You hissed as the bronze-haired man took place next to you. He gave you one of his famous smirks as you turned your head towards him. ‘Keeping you alive Green.’ His voice was as raspy as you remembered. ‘Since when do we take care of each other? Last time I checked you made yourself perfectly clear when you said you wanted nothing to do with me. Now I just have to go the extra mile to kill you too.’ He shook his head as he heard the threat. He and Mags were your mentors during the games while he was only a year older than you. He had the reputation of being a lady's man, charming everyone with his boyish grin. ‘I forgot how fierce you were, huntress.’ His cocky grin hadn’t changed over the last couple of years. It was a grin you loved at one point but now only despised, you wish you could smack it from his face. ‘Well, wait another week and you will be able to find out for yourself.’ He tilted his head a bit to the side, ‘Is that a promise y/n?’. Before you could say anything, the voice of the Capitol escort echoed across the square: ‘Ladies and gentlemen, the tributes from District Four: Y/N Green and Finnick Odair.’

[cantstoptheimagines]

On Display (Finnick Odair, Peeta Mellark | The Hunger Games)

Summary — The pollen of a strange flower leaves Peeta and Finnick in a haze. As a result, you’re used before the eyes of Panem.

Warnings and Other Tags ➳ Smut (threesome; sex pollen; oral (female receiving, brief male receiving); penetration (vaginal, anal); double penetration (vaginal, one vaginal and one anal); object insertion (anal); public sex and exhibitionism since they’re being filmed in the arena; breeding kink; spanking; bondage (Reader gets tied up with a vine); brief primal and hunter-prey king; brief knife play; potentially free use; slight spit kink; tons of cum).

Notes ➳ Word Count is 4,190. ➳ Reader uses feminine pronouns (she/her). I envisioned the Reader as being from District 5, but I don’t remember if I actually mentioned that or not.

FAQ | Masterlist | Fandoms | Requests | Coming Soon | Schedule  

Peeta and Finnick were anything but quiet as they followed you through the thick, green foliage of the arena’s jungle. Katniss had sent the three of you to ‘find more food’, but you were convinced that she only wanted rid of the two young men who trailed behind you.

Understandably so, in your opinion. They were loud and Katniss needed time to herself, two things that did not coincide. Still, you wished you had gotten Johanna as a partner, but she had disappeared with Beetee in the blink of an eye.

Behind you, Finnick twirled his trident with a confident grin as he and Peeta spoke to one another. He was a show-off, dramatically swinging the weapon until one of your ankles began to sting from a strike of cold metal.

You groaned, nearly toppling over in pain from the hit. Finnick didn’t even bother to look apologetic as he received glares from both you and Peeta.

“Sorry,” he chuckled halfheartedly.

“Would you stop messing around?” you rolled your eyes. “You two are gonna scare off every animal within earshot. It’s no wonder we haven’t found anything to hunt yet.”

While Peeta conceded to your request, Finnick decided to give his trident another whirl, “Sweetheart, you need to—”

A sudden wave of golden specks burst into the air, sending both men into coughing fits. You looked down to find that the sharp prongs of the trident had pierced the center of a rather large flower and couldn’t help but laugh at Finnick’s mistake.

It was bright purple at its torn center, which continued to spread the golden dust throughout the air. Red petals sprouted from all sides while thick vines anchored it to the ground. It was unlike any flower you had ever seen before.

You chuckled, examining it for a few seconds longer before your attention returned to the two men. Expecting to see embarrassment and annoyance radiating from Finnick and Peeta respectively, you were met with something else instead.

Their eyes had gone dark, pupils blown so wide that their colored irises almost disappeared. They both glowered at you, chests rising and falling heavily, almost as though they were struggling to breathe.

Your heart suddenly began to race when you felt the air shift. The tension between the three of you could be cut with a knife if it had to be.

Fear coursed through your veins as Finnick’s grip tightened around his trident and Peeta slowly pulled out a sharp knife. One step forward from each sent you bolting into the jungle.

Heavy footsteps followed. You didn’t even bother to look back, running blindly through the foliage. Your heart pounded uncontrollably as you did your best to escape. The sudden turn in your allies left you startled.

But nothing could compare to the fear that filled your stomach when a hand yanked at the collar of your wetsuit. Back hitting the ground, the wind was knocked out of you.

Both Peeta and Finnick towered over you with dark eyes. They admired the way you gasped for any semblance of air as tears welled up in your eyes.

Finnick tossed his trident aside, pulling you up by the front of your wetsuit with a grin. Everything went by so fast — the feeling of being forced back against Peeta’s chest, his knife to your throat, so Finnick could pull the zipper.

Your eyes widened when he exposed your skin. He tugged at the wetsuit until it pooled at your ankles and you’re made to step out of its confines. He wasted no time, immediately indulging himself. He palmed at one of your breasts while wrapping his lips around the other.

“Wait—! Ah! Finnick!”

Behind you, Peeta groaned, still holding his knife to your throat. Heavy pants rebounded off your shoulder as his free hand wrapped around your body to pin your wrists against your stomach. A thick bulge pressed itself against your ass, but you could do nothing to stop it.

You cried out as Finnick kissed, licked, and sucked your nipples. An occasional slap sent shockwaves down your spine.

You were still in a state of surprise, tears breaking through and streaming down your cheeks as you tried to comprehend what was happening.

Finnick stopped, but only for a moment. He ripped up a thick vine and tied it around your wrists, giving Peeta a bit more freedom to touch you.

Finnick returned his focus to your aching breasts while Peeta’s hand, no longer needing to contain your wrists, began to explore your available flesh.

He journeyed down your warm body until he found what he was searching for. His fingers suddenly pinched your clit and ran over your folds.

“Peeta,” you whimpered, unable to even think anymore, completely at the mercy of both men.

He shushed you, pressing the blade of his knife flush against your throat in order to remind you of your place, “Be quiet. We’re just gonna use you for a bit. You’ll have fun too, don’t worry.”

You gasped when one of Finnick’s hands moved behind you to grope your ass. He then took it a step further, running his fingers between your cheeks in order to tease your puckered hole.

“Soon,” he muttered, kissing a trail down to your pelvis. “Want to eat your pretty pussy first though.”

He spread your thighs apart, nudging Peeta’s hand away with his nose. He took a deep whiff of your pussy before kissing your clit.

No more time is wasted. Finnick’s tongue lapped at you and he moaned at your taste. You didn’t expect any of this, but you couldn’t stop pleasure from swelling within your stomach. And the thought that some of the flower’s pollen had possibly affected you as well crossed your mind for a brief moment.

“Finnick!” you moaned. “Please, need time! Let me think!”

Peeta busied himself with marking your neck in dark bruises, using his lips and teeth to damage your warm skin, “Cunts don’t need to think. Only need to open up for us to fuck nice and deep. And that’s what you’re gonna do.”

Finnick’s nose, pressed into your slick, took in your wet scent as his tongue continued to taste your pussy. It’s shoved as deep as it can go within you, hungrily lapping at your inner walls.

He pulled away with his face covered in your sloppy essence, and grinned up at Peeta, “You need to taste this. It’s fucking good.”

Peeta quickly tossed his knife onto the ground, deeming it unnecessary. He was far too eager to try you out for himself.

Finnick rises to his feet while Peeta sinks to his knees. You’re traded between them like an object, now chest-to-chest with Finnick, who wraps his arms tightly around your body. He palms at your ass and spreads you open with a chuckle.

Meanwhile, behind you, Peeta almost thanks Finnick, who, by spreading you, provided him with a full view of both your holes.

Peeta dives in and your mouth falls open in surprise. He was much more desperate than Finnick, exploring both your pussy and your tight asshole without a second thought.

He tongues and slurps at your pussy like it’s an oasis, nails digging into the flesh of your thighs to keep you still. You’ve turned into a moaning, squealing mess and every bit of it leaves Finnick laughing in sick amusement. He even began grinding your hips down onto Peeta’s face, who happily took the extra weight in stride.

Everything is so overwhelming that you almost missed the quiet whirl of a camera. You spot the glint of a lens seated in the bark of a tree, steadily zooming in on the three of you.

“They—! Ugh!” you gasped. “They can see us! Hold on, they’re watching! Wait, wait!”

“Let ‘em watch,” scoffed Finnick. “We’re not giving up a pussy we just caught!”

You go to respond, only to interrupt yourself with a moan. Peeta had shoved two fingers into your pussy, stroking your wet walls at an indescribable pace. He continued tasting you without a care in the world, moaning at the delicious tang of your entrance.

“Gonna fuck this hole so full,” groaned Peeta, still slurping and licking and tasting your slick. His words were muffled against your twitching clit. “Gonna breed you so many times. Over and over until your pussy is out of room and can’t take anymore. Then we’ll start filling your ass just the same.”

“Tastes good, doesn’t it?” asked Finnick, and then he wrapped a hand around your throat with a grin. “Better than any meal the Capitol has ever given me.”

“So good,” said Peeta, voice muffled by your leaking pussy. “Wanna fuck it.”

“Get up then,” replied Finnick, “so we can start filling it up.”

Peeta groaned again, “You go first. Wanna eat her ass for a bit. Gotta open it up anyway.”

Finnick’s wetsuit is shoved down to his ankles in mere seconds, exposing his hard, throbbing length. He lifted you into his arms without any effort and wrapped your legs around his waist. His cock is then pushed inside your dripping entrance just as Peeta’s fingers are removed, leaving you to shriek and squeal against him as he rocks you on and off his aching length.

Beneath your hovering body, which is held firmly in place by Finnick’s strong hold, Peeta took his chance. He palmed at your ass and spread you from below, dedicating himself to tasting and fingering your tightest hole in order to work you open.

With a harsh slap to your skin, Peeta groaned, “Gonna be hard to fuck this ass. It’s so resistant.”

“Not the hole we need to cum inside anyway,” huffed Finnick, before he swallowed your gasps with heavy kisses.

“Would still be fun to try out,” laughed Peeta as he pushed a thumb inside, resulting in another gasp falling from your lips. “Bet it’s never been used before.”

Panting into your neck, Finnick replied, “Do what you want. My cum is going in this pussy for now.”

Peeta nodded and then, before you knew it, his tongue was worming its way inside your ass. His nails formed crescents in the flesh of your cheeks as he indulged himself.

The intensity of it all left you shaking and moaning uncontrollably. Your eyes fluttered as your gaze tried to avoid the whirling lens of the camera that continued to zoom in on your sweaty figure.

You could only imagine the expression on Caesar Flickerman’s face. One of both horror and excitement for how this would change his show’s ratings. Two tributes using the body of a third for their personal pleasure had probably become Panem’s biggest scandal within a few minutes.

“Fuck! Ugh!” grunted Finnick, still rocking you on and off his cock. “Gonna cum! Gonna cum! Take it! C’mon, take my cock and cover me in your leaking pussy!”

He cursed upon feeling his tip quiver inside your wet walls. His cum flooded your insides, white ropes shooting deep into your womb, as he groaned.

Balls pressed flush against your weeping entrance, a white ring formed at the base of his length. Peeta quickly left your asshole behind in order to clean up the new mess between your legs.

His tongue ran over your pussy as well as Finnick’s balls. He swallowed as much of the combined mixture of cum as he could.

He then steadily kissed along the expanse of your back until he stood behind you. His chest was flush against your skin as he unzipped his wetsuit and shoved it to his knees.

“Room for me?” he asked, not even waiting for an answer before he began pressing his tip against you.

You wouldn’t be surprised if the other tributes knew your location now as a series of loud cries fell from your lips. The feeling of Peeta shoving his length into you to join Finnick in his rough use of your pussy was almost too much.

Your entrance was stretched beyond belief as it tried to accommodate the two large cocks that wanted to share your wet pussy. Neither Peeta nor Finnick seemed to mind though, both of them groaning at the tight squeeze of your body.

Finnick held you between them, your legs still around his waist, giving Peeta the opportunity to reach around and fondle your tits. Both men eagerly began thrusting in and out of your pussy, each with their own rhythm.

“Taking us both so well, aren’t you? Always knew you’d have a slutty pussy. Sucking in two cocks at once like a whore,” laughed Finnick, digging his fingertips into your flesh. “Should’ve used you when we first met. Could’ve made you my personal cum dump to relieve myself whenever I wanted.”

You whimpered at the thought. Stuck between them, you could do nothing but listen to Finnick’s dirty rambling.

He continued, “We would’ve been on every cover of Capitol Sex Magazine, you bent over with my cock in your battered pussy, all swollen, leaking so much cum that your skin would be stained with it for days. Imagine it, everyone in Panem getting themselves off to images of you being stuffed full. Guess that’s what they’re doing right now since they’re watching your pussy get bred on live television, huh?”

“Shit!” gasped Peeta, turned on beyond belief by Finnick’s disgusting words. “Be quiet! Ah! You’re gonna make me cum already talking like that!”

“Do it,” moaned Finnick. “Cum in her pussy like she deserves.”

Peeta’s cock twitched inside your clenching walls. Endless streams of white cum made their way inside your pussy. Peeta shoved himself so deep that the mushroom-shaped head of his cock met your cervix, making you squirm.

“Oh, don’t try to escape us now,” hummed Finnick. “We’re just getting started! C’mon, let’s show everyone what her pussy looks like before it’s ruined.”

They both pulled out, leaving you dripping with their combined releases. Peeta seized control of your torso while Finnick held your legs, both of them working together to carry you towards the camera that had been filming everything.

Finnick spread you open for the lens with a wild gleam in his eyes. White, creamy cum escaped your pussy little by little. The Capitol citizens were probably discussing how every facet of your body could be used for the pleasure of others as your fellow tributes showed your hole off for the world to see while all you could do was whimper.

“Yeah, fuck yeah, look at all that,” chuckled Finnick, admiring your quivering, oozing pussy. “Sloppy little thing, isn’t she?”

Peeta huffed and nodded in agreement, “She’s messy, but she’ll just have to get used to it. I’m not even close to being done.”

“Here, get her on the ground,” demanded Finnick. “Wanna shove her face in the dirt while I take her.”

They manhandled you into a new position, laughing at your pleas, “Need a few minutes! Can’t go again yet! Please—! Ah!”

Face down, ass up, and completely vulnerable, you’re pulled back onto Finnick’s throbbing cock in no time. Your hands, still tied together, did their best to find a lifeline, only to clutch tightly onto a bundle of leaves when nothing else can be found.

One of Finnick’s hands pinned you down by the back of your neck while the other landed in the dirt next to your head. He pounded into you without remorse. The air filled the sounds of wet, slapping skin and heavy pants.

Peeta, meanwhile, had gone back to the tree that had the camera seated in a knothole. Finnick watched, mouth open with uncontrollable moans, as Peeta safely removed the camera with a satisfied smile.

“Now Panem can get up close and personal,” he said, holding the camera so it had the perfect view of you being fucked into the ground.

Finnick laughed and allowed Peeta to continue. As Peeta offered the best views of your rough treatment, you cried out with each of Finnick’s mean thrusts.

His hips collided with your ass over and over again. His balls kissed your pussy each time, slowly covering them in your arousal.

“Ah! Ah! Oh! So deep, Finnick! You’re so—! Ugh! So deep! Too much!”

His cock twitched inside you, releasing another load of cum before either of you could comprehend it. His cum frothed around his cock, creating a white ring at the base, as it leaked out of your throbbing, swollen entrance.

Finnick pulled out before quickly trading you for the camera, capturing the moment Peeta buried his cock back into your aching pussy for another turn with your sweaty, whimpering body.

“That’s it,” laughed Finnick, cock already hardening again between his legs. “Fuck that thing real good before filling it up.”

Peeta whined, fingertips digging into your hips as he used your pussy for himself. He rammed in and out of your squelching entrance. A combined mixture of their cum dribbled out of you, encircling Peeta’s length as his thrusts remained unrelenting.

He hunched over your back and then wrapped his arms around your stomach and chest. He panted against your skin, fucking you like an animal in heat, bruising your ass with every move of his hips.

“Pretty little pussy, so pretty,” he moaned, pinching your nipples in order to pull a few more babbling cries from your lips. “I want to know where the Gamemakers found those flowers. I’ve never been so hard for so long.”

“We need to take some back to the others,” said Finnick, stroking himself with one hand while the other brought the camera closer to your rolled back eyes. “I’d love to watch Katniss eat this slut out while Johanna shoves a few fingers down her throat.”

“Gonna—! Ugh! Oh!” exclaimed Peeta, hips speeding up. “That’s it! Do you like taking this much cum? Huh? You like taking my load? Here, you can have another!”

He received no response other than your uncontrollable moans. His cock sank into you once, twice, three times more, before gushing white when the tip met your cervix.

“Oh, Peeta!” you cried, tears of pleasure streaming over your skin. “Ah!”

He kissed the skin of your shoulders before loosening his grip. With a sigh, he pulled out of your wet entrance. He spread your ass wide enough for him to admire the way his and Finnick’s combined loads dripped out.

He pushed as much of their cum back into you as he could before leaning down to kiss your other hole. After licking a long stripe over your tightest entrance, he patted your cheeks gently, “Time for your ass to take on a few rounds. Who’s first? You get to pick this time.”

“Oh no, she doesn’t. I’ve got an idea. I say we give the audience a few close-ups,” chuckled Finnick, before gesturing to the camera in his hand. “Let’s put this in her ass before we have a go at it. So everyone watching can see it before and after she’s left gaping.”

Peeta kept you spread open from the back. You were almost completely out of it when the cool shell of the camera was pressed against you.

Both men delighted in your shrieks of both pain and pleasure as they worked together to push the camera inside your body. It was rectangular in shape and a decent size lengthwise, but not so big that it couldn’t be shoved inside your tight hole.

It made you wonder if the Gamemakers had anticipated something like this whenever they originally put the flowers in the arena.

Finnick pushed the camera into you before pulling it out again. He repeated the cycle, covering it in your slick, with a loud laugh, “Wonder what else we could put inside her. She’s taking this thing better than I expected.”

Peeta spit onto the camera, pupils blown wide, as it disappeared in and out of your ass, “The hilt of my knife is pretty long. How big is the handle on your trident?”

“Big,” chuckled Finnick, slapping your ass when you squirmed a bit too much. “We can do that later though. I wanna see what this ass feels like when it’s squeezing my cock.”

Peeta agreed with a smile. His warm hands ran over your skin. One pressed down on the back of your neck while the other groped your ass.

The camera was pulled out of you in an instant. Finnick placed it on the ground near your head, allowing it to focus entirely on your pathetic, drooling expression.

“Giving everyone the best view,” he grinned, and then he moved to kneel behind you. “Ready for my cock? Who am I kidding? I don’t need to ask that question. You’re gonna take it either way.”

His length roughly breached your hole before you could even comprehend his words. He sank deep into your ass, heavy balls slapping against you with each move as he began thrusting in and out of your clenching hole.

Your mouth fell open with a silent scream. You’re exhausted eyes stared back at you in the reflection of the camera lens. You nearly cried at the thought of your expression being shown to the entirety of Panem.

Next to Finnick, Peeta stroked his own length, occasionally slapping it against the swollen flesh of your ass. He groaned upon feeling his cock twitch in his palm, “Gonna cum again. Think I can put it inside her? I’ll be quick.”

You’re easily traded between them. It only takes Peeta a few moments to shove himself inside your ass, pounding his hips hard and fast until cum once again bursts from the tip of his cock.

Quickly as it happened, you were given back to Finnick, who immediately pushed himself inside you again. A toy being shared.

“Look at us loading you down with our cum,” he chuckled, pressing a hand against the newly formed bulge in your stomach, aching and stuffed with their releases. “You haven’t even done it once. Just been taking it like a good girl, haven’t you? We’ll change that soon, I promise. Ugh!”

He rutted into you as his cock let go of another wave of cum. He groaned loudly, head falling back in ecstasy. His pace didn’t falter in the slightest, but only increased. His pelvis struck your ass with every thrust and grunt that escaped him.

“Since I’m in her ass,” he sighed, fingers digging into your sweaty flesh as his gaze moved to Peeta, “you wanna use her pussy for a while?”

You didn’t even hear Peeta’s response, any thoughts or awareness of your own being left entirely at their mercy. Each of your senses had become too drowned out by the pleasure coursing through your body for you to understand their conversation.

Next thing you know, Finnick pulled you up by the hair. Left to cry out in pain, more tears began streaming down your cheeks until Peeta slipped beneath you and you’re dropped unceremoniously onto his chest.

You’re in a confused, whimpering haze, pinned between the two men as a second cock is stuffed inside you. Peeta sighed happily as he took control of your pussy while Finnick cared for nothing but your tight ass.

“Oh! Ah, ah! Peeta, please—! Finnick, ugh!” you sobbed. “Finn—! Peeta—!”

Everything turned into a blur of sweat, tears, and cum as they both laughed at you. Two cocks railing your messy holes wasn’t helpful in letting you know whose name to call out.

“I can’t—! Ugh! Ah!” you whined. “Too hard!”

“Damn right, we’re too hard!” hissed Finnick. “Don’t know how long it’s gonna take for our cocks to go down. Feel like I could fuck your ass forever.”

Hiding away in the crevice of Peeta’s neck, you whimpered and squirmed between them. A knot grew within your stomach and tension took over your core, a wave of pleasure preparing to overwhelm your senses.

“Tightening up, aren’t you?” moaned Peeta, gripping the back of your neck with a large, warm hand. “About to cum again. Do it with me.”

“Me too,” panted Finnick, spreading your cheeks to watch their cocks disappear in and out of you. “C’mon, sweetheart, cum for us. Your pussy’s earned it.”

Your climax took over, forcing both of them into their own. Each of you gasped, shuddered, and moaned at the pleasure you offered one another.

Peeta and Finnick dumped their loads inside you without a care. Your entrances clenched and fluttered around their lengths as your slick gushed out of your body, covering both of them in your satisfied release.

For a moment, everything seemed at ease. The humid jungle air was filled with nothing but quiet gasps and tired groans. The light swish of a sponsorship parachute interrupted the peace that had taken over. The small, silver package slowly descended until it touched the forest floor.

If you had paid it any mind, you would’ve tried your best to collect yourself, Peeta, and Finnick for a quick escape. But the opportunity was missed when the package fell open, covering the three of you in another cloud of golden pollen, as dozens more fell from the sky.

[thesongofthegreens]

just doing an updated posting for my muse list and interested fandoms list!

with the fandoms, i'll put my character in bold and then leave the characters i want to interact in parenthesis. i'm oc friendly and will interact with anyone outside of the most desired list, but i wanted to throw that out there.

i do ask that everyone be 20+ and expect to be asked when i message for those who interact with this post.

fandoms list:

la la land: sebastian wilder (mia dolan, laura wilder, keith)

house of the dragon: alicent high tower (criston cole, aemond targaryen, haelena targaryen, rhaenyra targaryen)

game of thrones: jaime lannister (brienne of tarth, elia martell, tyrion lannister), jon snow (any of the starks tbh, wildlings, daenerys targaryen)

avatar, the last airbender: zuko (katara, any of the gaang, uncle iroh), katara (zuko, sokka)

twilight: jacob black (bella swan, billy black, leah clearwater, charlie swan, any of the pack tbh)

the hunger games: katniss everdeen (peeta mellark, gale hawthorne, prim everdeen, haymitch abernathy, finnick odair)

ballads of the songbirds and snakes: coriolanus snow (lucy gray baird, tigris, livia cardew, clemensia), lucy gray baird (coriolanus snow, any of the covey)

top gun: jane elliot, an oc from the original top gun timeline (maverick, ice man), rooster (phoenix, maverick, hangman, bob), maverick (goose, rooster, ice man, any of the recruits in top gun: maverick)

mission impossible: ilsa faust (ethan hunt, any of the team, anyone with an mi6 oc), ethan hunt (ilsa faust, anyone from the team)

star wars: cal kestis (trilla, merrin, cere, greez, bode), trilla suduri (cal kestis, anyone from the empire), obi-wan kenobi (anakin skywalker, padme, satine kryze, luke skywalker)

harry potter: theseus scamander (leta lestrange, newt scamander), harry potter (hermione granger, any of the weasleys, sirius black, remus lupin), severus snape - preferrably in the marauders era to develop those years (lily potter, any of the marauders, any from the golden trio timeline), julian evander, a ravenclaw oc from hogwarts legacy (sebastian sallow, ominous gaunt, poppy sweeting, natsai onai, garreth weasley)

xmen: logan howlett/wolverine (literally any of the xmen but especially rogue and laura, deadpool), scott summers (hank summers, jean grey, logan, any of the xmen), charles xavier, probably first class and days of future past centric (raven/mystique, erik lehnsherr, hank/beast, any of the xmen)

lord of the rings: aragorn (any of the fellowship, eowyn, arwen)

bridgerton: anthony bridgerton (any in the bridgerton family, edwina sharma, kate sharma, sienna, simon the duke), penelope featherington (colin bridgerton, eloise bridgerton, any in the bridgerton family, any in the featherington family)

[w3bheadz]

Character Introduction

Name: Rowena Malcolm Age: 18 Gender: Female District: 4 Victor of the 13th Annual Hunger Games Sexuality: Lesbian Personality : Rowena is sort of a morally gray character. You might not like her at times, and that's okay. It's how she was meant to be written. She’s never been on the side of the capitol, so she isn’t evil. On the contrary, She did feed into their games. She continued to kill after the games, but it was only to those who hurt the people she cared about. History: She had a twin brother named Ezra. When Rowena was reaped, he told her to run. Peacekeepers killed him. Her mother wasn’t a great woman in any way, shape, or form. Her mother was a drunk fool who couldn’t give two shits about her or her brother, so Rowena took the brunt of the work to protect her brother and herself.  Strengths: Archery, Foraging, Physical Strength, Emotional Intelligence Weaknesses: Independence (She wasn’t able to form any alliances due to this), Untrusting, Allergic to Peanuts Weapon of choice: Bow and Arrow Other weapons: Spear and hunting knife Family: Ezra Malcolm (Twin) {Deceased}, Amandla Malcolm (Mother), Felix Malcolm (Father) {Deceased}, Mags Flanagan (Wife), Finnick Odair (Like a Son), Annie Cresta (Like a daughter) Friends: Mags, Tigris, later Haymitch Abernathy Special Skills: Her aim catches the eye of many, and she’s very good at controlling her emotions. Alliances?: None Romance?: Mags Flanagan Volunteer/Chosen?: Chosen Reaction to reaping: Anger Token: a shell necklace her brother had made her. Chariot Outfit:

Interview Outfit:

Interview Angle: flirty, airheaded (appearing dumb) Reaping Outfit: basic cargo pants, fishnet sweater and a tank top

Training room strategy: Appear weak until the arena What skill did they show to gamemakers?: Her aim. She can bullzye a target with an arrow, her spear, and a hunting knife. What kind of score would they get?: 8

[johnnamason]

To say it had been hard adjusting to life among the Rebels again was an understatement. Living with people again was hard. She’d essentially spent years alone, the ‘visits’ the Capitol bestowed upon her the only time she’d made contact with another. Being alone had never been enticing to Johanna. It was always forced upon her. It was always the Capitol. They'd made her independent, distrustful. Lonely. They’d taken her family, her friends, her allies. She’d almost craved the Capitol appointments by the second year, desired anyone’s touch, just to feel like she wasn’t floating. Talking to herself became second nature, and she found she was quite funny. An hilarious thought popped into her head then, as she lounged on her bed in Alexandria’s infirmary. She would have laughed out loud, had it not been for the pain. Suddenly, she couldn’t remember what had been so funny. Johanna wasn’t hurt, hadn’t been in years once she’d learnt to play along, but the dependency she’d grown on mind-numbing drugs was great. They’d been her only gift in the Capitol. Of course, Alexandria didn’t give those gifts. A day had passed since they’d stopped her morphine drip, maybe two, and Jo couldn’t stand the shaking anymore. Fuck them. Fuck their rules. They’re worse than the Capitol. She left her assigned bed, walked the halls as if on a hunt, gaze darting into every room she passed. She was after one thing, and she’d find it. She hadn’t been thinking of others, hadn’t thought about the risk of familiar faces, but when she laid eyes on Finnick, she froze. And then, seeing the dazed look on his face, the drip running from his arm, she smiled.  Johanna didn’t hesitate in approaching him, pushing his door open so fast it banged against the wall. “Well, there he is! The Golden Boy.” Her smile remained, but it was empty. Johanna hadn’t decided how she felt about Finnick, but she certainly didn’t trust him anymore. She made herself welcome, sitting next to him on the bed, as he gazed back, clearly shocked. Reaching out, she ripped the IV from his arm, hooking herself up to it instead. “You don’t mind, do you? They’ve cut off my supply. There’s some asshole doctor here, comes to see me almost everyday, says he’s helping me adjust to reality, as if some honorary ex-Rebel can pretend to save the world from their office, and actually know anything about my reality.” Johanna sighed when the morphine hit, feeling the warmth spread through her veins. Eyes slipping shut, she continued. “At least twenty times in my psych sessions, they tell me that I’m ‘totally safe’. Safe from the Capitol, from torture.” So much better. She opened her now-glazed eyes, watching him. He looked like shit. “What about you, Odair? You feeling ‘totally safe’?”

[incaensio]

cont from this @seasaltsurvivor

( ... )

Finnick shook his head as he scooted over to make more room before gently patting the floor beside him. "Nah," he answered nonchalantly, straightening out his posture. "You're welcome to join the pity party. It would feel wrong to kick you out anyway, considering you're co-president of the Misery Club."

the two hour slot of training written in her arm had become one of her few pleasures in this place; she spends the day like a ghoul expecting the moment she would be able to breathe real air, and, today, all that expectancy becomes disappointment as she is told, just in time to go to the armory, that her pass to the outdoors has been revoked because she has no proper companion for the hunt today. there's a sort of mission, it seems, and gale has been shipped towards it — the agony of that is enough to send her mind spiraling enough for her to falter, hesitating several minutes before pressing on that she needs to go out. it is enough for them to tell her to go to the hospital, as if every little freak out of hers can be fixed with a needle to the arm. well, they have been doing that enough here, so maybe they're not wrong.

katniss doesn't want to be out of it today, though. she just needs to be alone, and when she checks her wrist, she can tell she won't be able to get that by going to her usual closet — the one near the nursery, she's almost sure it's delly's shift there today — nor her compartment — it's prim's homework time, and she always has rory over — so she beelines to the closest one, only to find that solitude is not in her odds today, apparently. it's the lesser of several evils, at least, and katniss can barely believe she'd ever think that of finnick odair. but the one crouched down in the supply closet is but a poor man's version of the capitol's darling; even without his hospital wear, and with his hair properly combed (probably by effie, because she can see there's also some make up around his face and her former escort seems to be the only one in this district capable of using that), he's pathetic. katniss quite likes that. it is that acknowledgement, and his generosity in giving her room, that makes her enter the closet, promptly closing the door so no one else would be able to find them here (which is the whole point; not a lot more of people were as eager to hole in themselves in secrecy so she's glad she shares it today with the one bearable person around).

the humorous scoff that escapes her lips, twisting them upwards, makes her amusement known to him before she can even notice. yes, apparently finnick odair is funny. who would have thought that? certainly not the katniss of a month and something ago, who avoided him like the plague. now, chuckling at his self-deprecation and wishing to be with anyone but him, she feels like a whole other person. is she, already? katniss purses her lips and takes her place by his side, easily finding the switch of light on the back of the closet. "on or off?" she no longer minds the darkness of these cramped spaces, finding that it often aids to harbor its secrecy, but finnick has often been one for eye contact, so who knows. "ain't think you can do much kickin', odair. you even trainin'?" with the lights on, she can see his hospital bracelet, the same as hers: mentally disoriented. batshit nuts, drugged up, useless for anything but to be pretty for the camera. "bad run with cressida’s lenses?"

[gladiatefm]

closed to @gcdeater . the arena , cornucopia .

katniss is shaking as she is rises into the arena , chest pumping with adrenaline , and with terror as peeta is dragged out of the launch room , battered and blue . it's clear what they have done as her braid whips against her cheek , the wind howling in her ears , chest concaving with vicious sobs , and she cannot for one moment focus on the arena . she can see nothing but her husband beaten by peacekeepers , then taken off to who knows where , nothing more than a message sent her way .

claudius templesmith is counting down , and katniss attempts to pull herself together , to remind herself that this is life or death — and when she can't find rye , her knees near buckle , but she holds herself together . there is nothing to be surprised by in panem any more , and besides if he isn't here , it can't be so terrible . i'll find him , she reminds herself . but for now she must remain alive , and those instincts which have gotten her to her thirty sixth year kick in .

the gong rings , and she runs , darting through the snow as best she can . she's used to a rough winter in twelve , more than used to the pain of hunting in the depths of december , but katniss has never known anything like this . her fingers are around the bow when her senses pick it up , the arrival of another ; she spins , arrow notched , and is met with the face of finnick odair .

[unspcken]

introducing Mags Flanagan .

Powerful enough to drown you. Strong enough to cleanse you. Deep enough to safe you.

∬ STATICS .

Name: Mags Flanagan Nickname: / Age: eighty Gender identity: cisgender woman , she / her Orientation: heterosexual Place of birth: District 4, Panem Occupation: District 4 mentor, rebel

∬ APPEARANCE .

Faceclaim: Phylicia Rashad Height: 5'5" Hair: Greying black. Eyes: Brown Fashion: Clothes with a loose-fit that are comfortable and flow around her. Usually natural tones.

∬ 𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘

tw  : trauma, torture, murder

Mags is known for being District 4's victor of the 11th Hunger Games, after which she became a mentor. Mags managed to win her Games due to her hunting skills and knowledge of how to make sea-water drinkable. Many other tributes died of dehydration and starvation that particular year.

In the early days of the Victor Villages, things were not set in place like they were in current times. Mags had voiced displeasure with the ways the Capitol was treating her, even after the turmoil of winning the Games. The wrong person picked up on this and enlightened authorities. It was seen as treason and the Capitol would not have victors speak ill of them in any sort of way. As punishment --- and to prevent it from happening again --- they cut out her tongue. Shortly after, they realized how this was not a suitable punishment for victors. Rebels and traitors, however, still received such torture. They are known these days as Avoxes.

Most don't know the reasoning behind Mag's mutism. Some think one day decided to stop talking altogether, being an introvert. Others think never spoke at all. Those around her knew Mags was selfless, kind, sharp minded and nourishing. She would go out of her way in order to help another.

One in particular. Finnick Odair has a special place in her heart. The moment he stepped onto that podium at the reaping she decided she would do everything in her might to make a victor out of him. And he succeeded. Never had she felt so relieved.

Mags has always been a rebel of some sort. Even if the majority of her life she had been a silent one.

[undercoveravenger]

In Your Arms

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Male Reader

Requested: Yes

Request(s): “I heard you wanted HungerGames and came running 🏃‍♀️ Alright so it’s after the book series and Finnick and reader are finally living the life they want and obviously Finnick is alive and well because fuck that he deserved so much better. Finnick isn’t on his capital diet and he has a little fat on his body and reader loves it and always touches it but Finnick gets insecure because he thinks reader hates it.” + “Can I request a finnick x male reader with angst and comfort where they comfort each other after the quarter quell?” 

A/N: Combining these two requests since they seemed like they could fit together well

—--

For the first time since the revolution, Finnick wakes up alone. He is cold - the damp sand at his back has long since lost its warmth - and freezing water laps at his legs as he jolts upright. His first instinct is that he’s back in the Arena - that something, someone, is coming after him. He scrambles to his feet, sand sucking his feet down in a way that feels claustrophobic rather than the way it normally grounds him and the cold rain plasters his hair to his face.

Thunder booms in the distance, the sound echoing the canons that haunt his nightmares and sending him further into his panic. He’s jerky, out of practice in a way that he can normally take comfort in but now only serves to make him feel all the more on edge. He could see shadows flickering in his peripherals, tree branches and whispering grasses coalescing into hunters, other tributes just out of sight and beyond his perception though just close enough for him to feel like a fish being hunted by a heron.

As he struggles to regain his balance he realizes that he is alone, the indent you had left in the sand beside him long abandoned. His heart stops in his chest, feeling suddenly like he’s had the air kicked out of him - if you were gone, did that mean you were…? No. No, you couldn’t be. If you were dead-

“Finn?” Your voice snaps Finnick out of his spiral almost instantly and he whirls to face you, a massive smile breaking across his lips as he stumbles up the beach toward you. 

“Where were you?” He gasps, tucking his head into your shoulder as he throws himself into your arms, unable to even pretend to care as he knocks whatever you’d been carrying out of your grasp.

His nerves start to settle as you clutch him close to your chest, arms curled tight around him. “I’m sorry,” the words rush out of you quickly as you realize what he must’ve been thinking, “I’m sorry Finnick. I woke up and it looked like you were cold so I went to get blankets from the cabin. I meant to be back before you woke up and then it started raining and it took me longer to get back-” You trailed off as you took in his state, pulling back just far enough to look at him, “God, you’re freezing. C’mon, Finn, let’s get you home and warmed up before you get sick. I’ll come back for the blankets later, when it’s not raining.”

Finnick allows himself to be tugged along after you, stumbling over the slight hills in the sand as he follows you back to your shared cabin at the other end of the cove. He’s still a little out of it as the front door swings shut behind the two of you, but he has enough presence of mind to toe off his shoes and follow you into your bedroom. 

“C’mon love,” you say, digging through his dresser to find him some dry pajamas. “Let’s get you out of those wet clothes.”

He blanches at that, suddenly far too aware of the way he’d changed since the Games. His wet clothes clung to him, sticky with water and plastered to the soft stomach and curves that’d formed in the years after the Hunger Games had been ended. He knew that you liked knowing he was comfortable and felt safe enough to relax, but he couldn’t help but feel less worthy of the attention, especially with the way he had been treated in the years between his Games and the Quarter Quell. He eventually follows your request, tugging off his soaked shirt and holding it in front of his chest and stomach subconsciously.

You turn back, eyes narrowing as you notice his defensive body language. “You okay, Finn? You seem… tense. Is it still the nightmare?” 

He shakes his head, slowly forcing himself to approach you, dropping his shirt as he gets close. “‘M’okay.”

You step toward him, cupping his face in your hands fondly. “Sweetheart, I’m here for you. You know I love you, right? And whatever you’re dealing with, I’m here to support you.”

Finnick hesitates, but presses into your palms and closes his eyes after a moment. “I don’t feel strong enough for you anymore.” He can feel the way your hands start to shake where he rests against him and he knows that you must be heartbroken to hear what he had been thinking. “I just- I don’t know if I could protect you if something happened and I don't look-” his voice breaks a little as he voices his insecurity.

You interrupt him with a fond eye roll and a tender kiss, “You look like the love of my life,” you murmur quietly, pressing soft kisses across his cheeks and forehead. “And I love that you are safe and don’t need to be fighting ready unless you want to be. I love who you are, Finn, not just how you look and I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you if that’s what it takes for you to know it.”

Finnick feels like crying - to have gone from being treated as little more than a toy for strangers’ pleasure to being so wholly loved in just a few short years was a little overwhelming to think about, but he knows that he couldn’t be happier if he were anywhere else and he wouldn’t want to be. He is more than happy to be here, safe and loved and willing to carve out a new place for himself in the world with you. He knows that there is nowhere he would rather be than in your arms.

[dandelionlovesyou]

What's your opinion of Finnick Odair as a character?

Your favourite Finnick moment or quote in each books/movies?

Thank you, @curiousnonny

Hi there, @curiousnonny I'm so sorry it took me so long to answer this. I got lines from the book that mention/ describes Finnick. It was a treat reading these lines. I only got halfway through Catching Fire. There are just too many. It will have to be for another day. I picked parts that are not so common. Needless to say, I love Finnick's character. He had such a sad ending, but I understand why SC did it. Now this doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt! It hurt lots.

-- Finnick's Introduction -- He is beautiful. A specimen. He is lethal.

Finnick Odair is something of a living legend in Panem. Since he won the Sixty-fifth Hunger Games when he was only fourteen, he’s still one of the youngest victors. Being from District 4, he was a Career, so the odds were already in his favor, but what no trainer could claim to have given him was his extraordinary beauty. Tall, athletic, with golden skin and bronze colored hair and those incredible eyes. While other tributes that year were hard-pressed to get a handful of grain or some matches for a gift, Finnick never wanted for anything, not food or medicine or weapons. It took about a week for his competitors to realize that he was the one to kill, but it was too late. He was already a good fighter with the spears and knives he had found in the Cornucopia. When he received a silver parachute with a trident — which may be the most expensive gift I’ve ever seen given in the arena — it was all over.

-- Before the parade. -- Katniss is just so funny and witty!

I can’t argue that Finnick isn’t one of the most stunning, sensuous people on the planet. But I can honestly say he’s never been attractive to me. Maybe he’s too pretty, or maybe he’s too easy to get, or maybe it’s really that he’d just be too easy to lose.

-- How much of a heartthrob is he? Lots! --

Finnick recites a poem he wrote to his one true love in the Capitol, and about a hundred people faint because they’re sure he means them.

-- I find it so funny how beautiful Katniss finds Finnick yet he loathes him (in the beginning!) --

Finnick, glistening and gorgeous, stands a few yards away, with a trident poised to attack. A net dangles from his other hand. He’s smiling a little, but the muscles in his upper body are rigid in anticipation. “You can swim, too,” he says. “Where did you learn that in District Twelve?” “We have a big bathtub,” I answer. “You must,” he says. “You like the arena?” “Not particularly. But you should. They must have built it especially for you,” I say with an edge of bitterness.

-- Power! --

“Duck!” Finnick commands in such a powerful voice, so different from his usual seductive purr, that I do. His trident goes whizzing over my head and there’s a sickening sound of impact as it finds its target.

-- Sad and funny. It meant a whole lot more than just the few words. --

“Well, I can’t leave Mags behind,” says Finnick. “She’s one of the few people who actually likes me.”

-- I just love this because it's about Peeta --

“No,” Finnick repeats. “Because whatever happened in the past is in the past. And no one in this arena was a victor by chance.” He eyes Peeta for a moment. “Except maybe Peeta.”

-- Oh, Katniss! --

We. Us. Hunting. All right, maybe killing Finnick would be a little premature. He’s been helpful so far. He does have Haymitch’s stamp of approval. And who knows what the night will hold? If worse comes to worst, I can always kill him in his sleep. So I let the moment pass. And so does Finnick.

-- Katniss owing Finnick --

All I wanted was to keep Peeta alive, and I couldn’t and Finnick could, and I should be nothing but grateful. And I am. But I am also furious because it means that I will never stop owing Finnick Odair. Ever. So how can I kill him in his sleep?

-- Such a sad moment --

I can see Finnick’s eyes, green in the moonlight. I can see them as clear as day. Almost like a cat’s, with a strange reflective quality. Maybe because they are shiny with tears. “No,” he says. “I can’t carry them both. My arms aren’t working.” It’s true. His arms jerk uncontrollably at his sides. His hands are empty. Of his three tridents, only one remains, and it’s in Peeta’s hands. “I’m sorry, Mags. I can’t do it.”

-- I wish I could see him swim! --

If the seawater healed Peeta and me, it seems to be transforming Finnick altogether. He begins to move slowly, just testing his limbs, and gradually begins to swim. But it’s not like me swimming, the rhythmic strokes, the even pace. It’s like watching some strange sea animal coming back to life. He dives and surfaces, spraying water out of his mouth, rolls over and over in some bizarre corkscrew motion that makes me dizzy even to watch. And then, when he’s been underwater so long I feel certain he’s drowned, his head pops up right next to me and I start. “Don’t do that,” I say. “What? Come up or stay under?” he says. “Either. Neither. Whatever. Just soak in the water and behave,” I say. “Or if you feel this good, let’s go help Peeta.”

There are so many more, but I only have this for now. Thank you as always, @curiousnonny

[mikhailoaleksandr]

sam claflin gif hunt

HERE you’ll find (###) gifs from various roles. Credit goes to the original gifmakers. Please like/reblog if you found them useful!

[queeneverdeen]

Finnick Odair - Sam Claflin gifs 245x35

[countrymusiclover]

16 - Becoming Tougher

Part 17

Victor's Daughter

The doors open to the training floors for me to see Finnick waiting for me and my father. I walked up picking up the smallest knife off the table getting in the stance, moving my arm back and launching it forward onto the target. To my suprise it sticks this time but it is in the person's stomach.

Finnick stepped up by me picking up one of the knives eyeing me. "I think we should get you good at fighting with two weapons." He pulls me towards a rack of weapons, picking up a trident. "Let's see what you can do with this." He twirls it in his hands throwing it into the chest of a person statue standing a few feet away from us. My mouth dropped open in awe at how good he is with that. Glancing back at my dad he nodded his head with a stern smile.

"Just do what you would with a knife." My father instructed handing me the same weapon. The figures shaped like humans moved being created from orange dots running towards me. I want to close my eyes and duck but I throw the blade. Then close my eyes hearing the fake person break apart right before I squinted my right eye open. Finnick slapped me on the back with a light smile. "You did good, princess." I nervously smile at him feeling sick to my stomach about getting a pat on the back to getting good at killing people. We spent the next few hours preparing for the games until it got late. Finnick waved goodbye as we ride the elevator upstairs seeing Katniss and Peeta sitting in the living room waiting for us. "I'll help you with the interview tomorrow. Tonight we need to go over the rest of these tributes." I plopped down on a side chair resting my chin in the palm of my hand.

Dad pours himself some alcohol in a glass coming to sit in front of the three of us. "I want you guys to forget everything you think you know about the games. Last year was child's play. This year your dealing with all experienced killers." Peeta sits down his glass asking. "So what does that mean for us?" My father sits down in a chair beside me cutting him off by raising his fingers to his lips. "It means you're gonna have to have some alies...look you're starting at a disadvantage most of these people have been friends for years." Katniss scoffed interrupting him. "That just puts us higher on their kill list-" He moves hair that falls in front of his eyes. "Do it your own way. But I know these people. Their first move is gonna be to hunt you down. All three of you." Peeta glanced to Katniss before she spoke again. "How could any of us even trust each other?" Lifting my head up I finally spoke up, saying the same sentence as my father. "It's not about trust. It's about staying alive."

He picks up a TV remote turning on the screen showing the first set of tributes from District 1. "Casmier and Gloss, brother and sister District 1. They won back to back games. Capital favorites. Lots of sponcers, they will be lethal." He clicked to the next slide showing a woman with teeth that looked like fangs. "The other half of the Career pack. Brutice and Antibaria. She had her teeth filed into fangs so she could rip people's throat out." The slide moves forward showing a black man with glasses. "Wirrise and Beatie, not fighters but brilliant. Weird real tech savie. He won his games by electrocuting six tributes at once." Tapping my fingers on my leg he changed the screen to two tributes dressed in all black.

"The Morphilings, masters of camouflage. Basically won there games by hiding until everyone else was dead. Self meditating ever since. Which I appalued not a threat." My dad hits the button showing Finnick on the screen. Katniss sits up recognizing him immediately. "Finnick Odair right?" I nodded seeing him using his fake smile and waving to the camera filming his Reaping. "He won his games at 14, youngest ever. Extremely humble." I accidentally snickers where he throws his hands up mockingly. "Yes I'm kidding. He's a peacock, a totally preneer. But he's the Capital darling. They love him here. Charming, smart, very skilled in combat, especially in water." I snap my fingers pointing towards the screen. "Which is why he chose the trident." Peeta sits up hands intertwined on his knees. "What about weaknesses?" My father walked to the other side of the screen as an elderly woman appeared beside another female tribute who was younger. "Maggs, she volunteered for Annie. Maggs was his mentor and basically raised him. If he's trying to protect her in any way, it exposes him." Maggs hugs Finnick but points to the camera as a warning for him.

Later that evening I stand on the balcony feeling the wind blowing through my wet hair since I just got out of the shower. Twiddling my fingers I can imagine Gale and Prim are worried for these games. "Finnick agreed to be in an alliance with you." My father breaks the heavy silence clouding my mind. He leans on his elbows on the ledge beside me. "The Capital defiantly knows about my loved ones now. During the Reaping I called out their names...I called out Prim...I called Gale." I feel tears starting to fall making me lay my face in my hands. My father draped his arm over my shoulder as I lay head on his shoulder. "I'm not allowed to help you in the games. But I have someone in mind. Someone the sponcers can't say no to." Lifting my head up I raised my brows in confusion. "Who's that dad?" All he has to do is glane down with those blue eyes and I had my answer.

Who do you think it is?

Comments really appreciated ❤️