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#and Victor loves them both in return
victorluvsalice · 1 year
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A Gush About Valicer
So this is probably a bit of a weird post for me to make, given that it’s literally just me gushing about the weird OT3 I’ve had for less than a year, but -- it’s Thanksgiving, and I feel like it’s weirdly appropriate to start talking about a ship that I’ve grown to be very fond of over the past few months. I’m thankful that it’s in my life. So, yeah -- I’m taking this opportunity to say it --
I fuckin’ love Valicer.
I mean that. I’m the first person to say that I don’t understand how or why I got so into The Smiler coaster at Alton Towers, and I especially don’t get why I went from trying to use the roller coaster for some Valice AU funtimes straight into shipping a human/humanoid (depending on the AU) version of said coaster with Victor and Alice, but even with that. . .I just love it so much! Smiler’s been a fun coaster OC to develop through Sims and the Not-Incorrect Quotes posts and generally all the weird situations I’ve come up with for them in my head. They’re so different to Victor and Alice by being extroverted and loud and generally cheerful, and yet they love their boyfriend and his girlfriend so much and want to see them happy. . . Granted, they want to see everybody happy, but still. And Victor and Alice love them, despite their differences, and they have such a great dynamic! I really feel like Smiler brings out Victor and Alice’s more fun-loving, jokingly-feral sides (as seen in the Not-Incorrect Quotes), and it’s great. :D I love all the little variations I’ve made up for them:
-->The Sims trio, living in their haunted farmhouse: Smiler working on robots in the barn and sending out bursts of vampiric happiness, Victor tending to his plants in the greenhouse and practicing his magic, Alice painting on the porch and coming to grips with being a werewolf
-->The Modern AU with all of them in college, with them starting out just as friends and becoming more after that one awkward hypnosis session with Victor, and transitioning into a very happy polycule with a nice support network of Smiler’s friends and family and Victoria and Emily (excellent for dealing with Victor’s shitty parents)
-->The Londerland Bloodlines AU where Smiler initially looks like an antagonist, but as it turns out they’re being manipulated by their “friends” and they do have some ethics under their “I can manipulate emotions to help people be happier, so why shouldn’t I?” exterior. Smiler wanting to atone after Victor gets kidnapped just for knowing them and they see some of the horrors the Setites were visiting on the people they wanted to help, and slowly being integrated into the vampire/ghoul/zombie polycule in the process
-->The Fallout of Darkness AU where I actually lean the closest to the ride’s actual theming (with The Smiler itself being a mind control device run by an eldritch being), but even then Mar-Mal has enough ethical sense to understand that you don’t kill the people you’re trying to make happy, and enough sense of humanity to enjoy Victor and Alice’s company and want to stay in their robot form with them, and Victor and Alice go from being kind of scared of the robot run by an eldritch being to seeing it as a friend they want to stick around -- and possibly, if Mar-Mal gets a handy Gen-3 synth body at any point, friendship might become something more. . .
-->The multi-fairy-tale AU with Victoria and Emily, featuring Smiler at their Fae best, just wanting to do nice things and make fun deals with these mortals to spread some joy, and slowly being sucked into genuinely caring for them, to the point where Victor’s “death” by poisoned apple nearly breaks them; Alice going from just surviving her awful tenure in Bumby and the Tweedles’ hell-house to having actual friends and loved ones; Victor and Victoria both escaping their toxic parents and finding that a simpler life, if harder, agrees with them SO much more, and finding so much love in that life; Emily reclaiming the happiness that she used to have on land, and finding real love after Barkis tricked her with his poisonous version
-->The upcoming Holistic!AU, where Victor and Alice are practically soulmates thanks to the universe bringing them together; and then Victor falls in with Smiler and their friends thanks to being kidnapped by Kelman and finds that his social circle doesn’t have to be just Alice, that the universe will let him have more friends and more loved ones, and Smiler’s happiness sense keeps giving them mixed signals about how okay it is to kiss Victor -- until Alice finally shows up for the rescue and lets them know it’s all right, she’s willing to share (as are Victoria and Emily, who are actually starting to appreciate this mad ride)
-->The Blades In The Dark-inspired thing I’ve been poking at -- this’ll get a proper write-up at some point, but the gist of it is that, after some incidents involving Victor getting kidnapped by a ghost bride on the eve of his wedding, Alice finding out Dr. Bumby’s horrible plans for the Houndsditch orphans, and Smiler just trying to help them both out, they end up as a criminal gang focusing on stealing from the rich so they can do things like create a community greenhouse (which I appreciate isn’t QUITE how you play BitD but this is fanfic not me actually playing XD) and go from friendly acquaintances to polycule in the process
-->All the various half-formed AUs that float through my head at night -- Victorian AUs where Victor and Smiler meet thanks to Dr. Kelman dragging their “son” to a Van Dort party and end up secret lovers for a time, before either Smiler gets banished to rural Lithuania and Victor has to go through some Forgotten Vows-style shenanigans before they can get back, and Alice has to deal with the fact that this is Victor’s ex who still clearly loves him, but does that mean she has to give Victor up? (Nope, as it turns out, she doesn’t), or the two run away together to avoid Victor’s arranged marriage and end up meeting Alice in the process, and Smiler has to deal with the fact that Victor clearly thinks Alice is attractive, and she’s nice, and are they ready to share Victor with someone else? (Yup, they totally are.) Or modern AUs where Alice and Smiler were friends first, and they both meet Victor, and discover they’re both falling for him, and initially they try to be noble and push him toward each other, until finally Victor reveals he’s in love with BOTH of them and they realize that they don’t HAVE to give him up. All the different ways they can meet, and become friends, and fall in love that I can think up.
And this is getting REALLY long, and I’m not sure how coherent it is anymore. XD Just -- the point of it is, having all this strange and wonderful Valicer (and Four Victorians On A Roller Coaster) stuff has really made me happier over the past year, and I’m really glad it’s part of my life now. I love my silly little Smiler OC, and I love my ship with them and my original OTP. So I hope you guys like it too, because it’s gonna be sticking around. XD
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quickhacked · 1 month
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"The outer reaches of space remain unexplored by humankind to this day, but its greed is relentless. We grasp and yearn and hunger for knowledge— answers to questions we cry out into the endless void expecting to understand, expecting the stars to respond. The stars will not, but one day something else will— and we will not like what it has to say." — Rome Solomon, Beyond the Exosphere (1965)
taglist (opt in/out): @shellibisshe, @florbelles, @ncytiri, @hibernationsuit, @stars-of-the-heart, @vvanessaives, @katsigian, @radioactiveshitstorm, @estevnys, @adelaidedrubman, @celticwoman, @rindemption, @carlosoliveiraa, @noirapocalypto, @dickytwister, @killerspinal, @euryalex, @ri-a-rose, @velocitic, @thedeadthree
#obscura#edit:rome#nuclearocs#nuclearedits#ok so. ok hi. red and i made a new universe hi. sorry. morris quincy victor and eleanor belong to them the rest belong to meee :3#the pictures i used are basically the patron saints of their occupation / line of work! so that's not what they look like#anyway it's a mix of paranormal stuff + lovecraftian horror + sort of zombies :^)#they're like. the domains of lucifer (demons) behemoth (zombies) and leviathan (the eldritch horrors that happen in space and oceans)#who are like. the three evils that torment the mortal realm#it's all in a historical setting kind of parallel to our world? so a bunch of historic events are the same but it's like#a little bit more advanced with technology but at the same time it's not. it's Just A Little Different y'know#rome's sister went to space for a mission and just straight up went missing which prompts him to become an astronomer#and he's the first one to start speculating the existence of leviathan as eldritch god#morris is a technician at the academy who has an angel stuck in his computer#eve is a nun and herbalist who witnesses the influence of behemoth firsthand through some sick travelers#that she and the other nuns of her convent take care of#anatoly and quincy are both from different space missions who end up as the only survivors who are not basically a plant#the other two survivors have secretly been replaced with some sort of parasites. annihilation style if you've seen that movie#eleanor is a demonologist and works together with her brother victor who's her cameraman#clarence is a blind psychic who lost her sight because of an angel trying to warn her and in return got her psychic abilities#and lazarus is one of the two most famous demonologists in the world but his wife (the other one) passed away#so now he's alone and since he's not from an upper class family like his wife was he's not all that loved as she was#there's a lot going on but it's SO fucking fun to work on so far. feel free to send any asks i would love to explain more :^)#if you've made it this far also hi i love you. kiss for you
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jahayla-parker · 3 months
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FINNICKKKKK🥰
okay what about... r and fin both being victors from district 4 and sent into the quarter qwell? and r being really shy and quite and fin is super protective of her. maybe an established relationship?
The Timid Tribute : Finnick Odair x Reader
(Finnick Odair x Victor!Reader / Finnick Odair x Tribute!Reader / Finnick Odair x District4!Reader / Finnick Odair x Gf!Reader / Finnick Odair x fem!reader)
Descr: 6k wc, Finnick and his timid girlfriend find themselves in the arena for a second time thanks to the 75th Hunger Games being the 3rd Quarter Quell. Despite the odds and their allegiance to protect Katniss Everdeen, Finnick will do whatever it takes to protect y/n.
Warnings: Hunger Games type warnings, violence, trauma, blood and injuries, fighting, death(s) [not main characters], and related. Please let me know if I missed anything!
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The News
“Honey?” Finnick frowned. He watched as y/n continued to sit in complete silence, just staring at the now-black screen. “Please talk to me,” he encouraged softly while he scooted closer to her on the couch. “Come on,” he pleaded as he cautiously pulled her to him, hoping to avoid startling her. Finnick knew they were both already drowning in emotions over having heard the announcement from the Capitol just moments ago. Yet, the anguish in his heart amplified when y/n’s timid eyes flickered over to him as she visibly tried to maintain her composure. The second he saw the wobbling of her bottom lip, Finnick nodded emphatically and rubbed her back. “I know, I know,” he cooed.
“Finn…,” y/n attempted, her voice cracking. She tried to swallow the tight lump in her throat. “F-F-Finn, I… can’t, I can’t,” she whimpered, still staring at the blank television screen despite the way Finnick had her head resting on his chest.
“You won’t, okay?” Finnick vowed, his heart beating rapidly. “Chances are, you won’t get reaped,” he argued. He wasn’t sure if that was necessary statistically true. But, it was what y/n needed to hear. And what Finnick needed to be true.
“Finnick,” y/n sighed, leaning back to look at her boyfriend’s face. “M-Mags can’t,” she pointed out as she shook her head. Mags was District 4’s oldest surviving victor and far too sweet for her own good. “Annie, she… still isn’t herself yet,” y/n added, explaining why the only other surviving female victor apart from herself was not a viable option to be reaped for the Quarter Quell.
“What are you saying?” Finnick croaked, his normally honey-coated voice coming out gruff from fear.
“Finn..,” y/n whined softly. She didn’t want to have to say it. Hell, she didn’t want to even think it. But, realistically, she couldn’t let Mags or Annie be reaped. While understandably none of them would want to return to the deadly arena they once won, y/n was the only one who stood a chance. As victors of their own games, none of them were supposed to have to fight in the Games ever again. But, unsurprisingly, Snow and the Capitol changed the rules. As terrifying as it was to think about having to endure that trauma all over again, y/n knew she couldn’t stand by if Annie or Mags had their names drawn for the reaping. It was between the three of them. And while she loved them both, y/n had no faith in either of their survivals should they be chosen.
“No,” Finnick stated firmly. He sharply angled his body towards y/n. He shook his head. “Y/n, you’re not-,” he begged.
“It’s not like I want to,” y/n whispered. She felt horrible about it herself. And even more so when it came to what she was asking Finnick to be okay with. She sniffled as her guilt over worsening his predicament brought tears cascading down her face.
Finnick sighed deeply. He reached over and gently pulled y/n back towards him. “It could be Shaynee,” he argued weekly. No one had heard from the last remaining female victor in nearly two years. No one in District Four really knew if she was even still alive. But, Finnick had to hold onto the small chance that it wouldn’t be the love of his life going into the Quarter Quell. He didn’t want Shaynee to have to either. But, he’d easily admit he preferred it to be her rather than y/n.
Y/n nodded wordlessly against Finnick’s chest. She opted to sit their in silence for a moment, just enjoying his presence. As the overwhelming worry she’d had since hearing the news continued to alarm inside her head, she gripped onto Finnick tightly. “I can’t lose you, Fin,” she cried.
Finnick closed his eyes and tucked y/n’s head under his chin. “You won’t, honey,” he whispered, “okay?” His calloused and sea salt-dried hands caressed her back. “You’re always going to have me, angel”.
Y/n failed to keep her composure. She clung onto Finnick’s shirt as she sobbed. Leaning back, she gazed up at him, giving him a knowing frown.
Finnick read y/n’s unspoken argument and took a deep breath. “There are two other male victors, we’ll both be fine”. He was done having this conversation, done with this being their reality. He was done with everything that wasn’t just holding her and savoring her presence. So that’s what he did. Finnick lifted y/n into his lap and hooked his legs and arms around her as he lightly swayed side to side.
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Reaping Day
Y/n timidly gazed over at Finnick from the female victors’ side of the stage. She was struggling to keep her eyes clear after having heard Mags be reaped for this year’s Quarter Quell. She knew Finnick didn’t want her to volunteer to take anyone’s place. But, when saw his evident anguish over their beloved Mags having been chosen, there really wasn’t much thought that had to go into her next move. Mags had been like a mother to him over the years. Mags was one of the only other people Finnick let himself get close to. He couldn’t lose her, and if Mags went into the arena, she wouldn’t come out. Y/n on the other hand, might actually stand a chance. “I volunteer,” y/n’s voice creaked out.
Y/n had spoken the words Finnick feared so quietly that the person drawing the victors’ names barely even heard her. Yet, Finnick’s ears had long ago been trained to pick up on y/n’s timidly soft voice. And this time, her words felt devastatingly loud. Finnick fought to move closer to y/n in order to stop her, but the peacekeepers promptly held him back.
As Y/n stood at the front of the reaping stage, she kept her eyes faced out at the crowd. She couldn’t bear to see Finnick’s anger, sense of betrayal, fear, and pain. She also couldn’t stand to see Mags’s reaction to y/n offering to take her place. Nor could she handle seeing Annie’s -while understandable- tears of relief in having escaped being reaped a second time.
Yet, when Finnick’s name was called out as the male victor headed back into the arena, her head whipped back to face him. Her knees shook as she struggled to keep standing. Her eyes were wide and already drowning in tears. All of her breath left her lungs, making her choked sobs silent.
Finnick of course hadn’t ever wanted to go back into the arena again. But, hearing his name called today didn’t phase him the way he had expected. To be fair, he’d expected that hearing it would’ve meant he’d be leaving y/n’s side. That it would’ve meant leaving her to the riots taking place lately in District 4. That he’d be forced to leave her to fend for herself while he was gone fighting for the ability to be to return to her. Only now, in reality, hearing his name read aloud from the reaping podium meant he could go with y/n. It meant he’d be able to protect her and see to it that she remain unharmed during this year’s games, at least to the furthest extent possible. Nevertheless, his heart broke as he witnessed y/n’s despair over him having been chosen.
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The Capitol
Finnick glared pointedly at the female tribute from District 2. He was beyond furious with the tributes, mostly the careers, looking at y/n like she was prey as she wandered around the training facility. He knew that she came across as an easy target. And while he never judged her timidity, he knew he needed to put an end to it. She had to show that she was capable of holding her own against the other tributes. Which she was. They just hadn’t seen that yet. While he was not planning on separating from her at any point in the arena, he needed to make them understand the consequences of trying to harm her should it happen against his wishes.
Finnick smiled proudly at y/n as she cluelessly sipped on the water bottle he’d given her. She just finished unknowingly showing off her skills to a room full of leering competitors. He knew she never felt confident in her abilities, so instructing her to show them off wouldn’t have worked well for the two of them. So, instead, he simply encouraged her to train and freshen up on skills she hadn’t had to use in awhile.
“You look hot,” Finnick grinned, his hands on y/n’s waist.
“Still?” Y/n questioned, trying to figure out why the water hadn’t cooled her face. “Oh,” she giggled, catching on to Finnick’s flirtatious meaning. She playfully hit his chest, smiling as he took hold of her hands and pulled her to his chest.
Finnick chuckled and pressed a light kiss to the top of y/n’s head. He knew he was being rather forward with such an act, but he didn’t care. They were both headed to their potential deaths and he was going to cherish any time he had left with her. Plus, he knew it would act as a warning to the others that his alliance was with y/n. And as such, he figured it would help protect her even further.
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Finnick’s nostrils flared as he fought to keep his protectiveness in check. He was backstage with y/n as she nervously waited for her turn to do her interview with Caesar. He knew that several of the male victors-turned-tributes around them were ogling at the lack of coverage from the gown y/n’s stylist had dressed her in for the evening. Finnick could read the impure thoughts and temptations in their eyes way too easily; having recognized those looks far too well. He used his torso to shield as much of her exposed body as possible as he held her gaze.
“Hey, angel,” Finnick cooed, tenderly guiding y/n’s head back towards him instead of on the screen playing back his interview and the message he had intended for her. “Just breathe,” he guided as he watched her try to keep the tears in her eyes from falling. “You’ll get through this and then I’ll make sure our mentors have y/f/f ice-cream ready when we get back to the dorms, okay?” He smiled at the faint grin that formed on her lip. “I’ll be right here, pretend like you’re just talking to me if it helps you connect with Caesar and the audience more, yeah?”
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The Games
Finnick had agreed to Heavensbee’s proposed plan to help Katniss the instant they’d offered to get y/n and himself out of there alive. That had been Finnick’s only mission since the moment she volunteered in place of Mags. Now, he finally had a realistic way to make that happen.
Yet, that didn’t stop Finnick from panicking when he saw how far away y/n was when they rose on their pedestals into the arena. He was just glad she had agreed to listen to his guidance to stay away from the cornucopia. He knew she’d be upset that he himself went into that certain bloodbath, but he needed to get their supplies and to inform Katniss of their alliance.
Y/n scanned the arena, hoping to get an idea of the landscape before total chaos erupted. She had located Finnick’s pedestal the moment her eyes adjusted to the fake sun glaring down at them. So, while waiting for the countdown to end, she let her eyes search for any other information that might come in handy later on in the games.
When the game commenced, y/n ran along the stone path to reach the meeting place she and Finnick had discussed. They’d established they would meet at whatever the tallest item was between wherever their two pedestals rose. As she skillfully ran along the wet stones, she glanced over to see much distance Finnick had made so she could adjust her speed accordingly. Only, she caught sight of him making his way to the cornucopia.
Y/n huffed loudly and cursed Finnick under her breath. While they technically hadn’t explicitly agreed that he wouldn’t do anything stupid, like heading for the cornucopia on his own, before meeting up with her, she was livid. She knew why he’d done it, wanting to get himself a trident, and surely (a) y/f/w for her. But he couldn’t be doing that alone!
Y/n whipped her head around to check her left and right for any threats as she skidded to a halt on the stone path. She took a mental measurement of the distance from her location to the cornucopia at the center of the tribute pedestals and sucked in a breath deep enough to hold her through until she crossed that distance. She promptly dove straight into the water. She felt the drastic temperature change the moment she was under the freezing water. But, thankfully her time in District 4 had accustomed her to such.
Y/n peeled her eyes open and frantically swam towards the cornucopia, her fear for Finnick’s wellbeing driving her already impressive speed. Her body relaxed ever so slightly when she saw the refracted image of him above her on the shore. He was safe and not noticeably harmed. As she reached the edge of the cornucopia, she cautiously scanned the surface before pulling herself ashore.
“Y/n?!” Finnick panicked as he protectively pulled y/n’s wet body to her feet and placed her behind him. He quickly cornered her in the back area of the dome at the center of the cornucopia. That way she was shielded from any potential impending harm. “What are you doing?!” He scolded quietly, his eyes searching her for any visible signs of injury. “You agreed to-,” he began to remind her, stopping as his head whipped forward upon hearing someone scream.
When there were two simultaneous splashes and the screaming stopped, y/n let out a sigh of relief. “I panicked,” she explained, gripping Finnick’s wrist. “I'm sorry...I shouldn't have done that, you can look after yourself...I shouldn't have...I'm sorry."
Finnick sighed, and sensing there was no immediate threat, he turned around to face y/n. “No, no,” he whispered guiltily, her sorrow over having come to his defense evident in her eyes and shaky apologies. “Shhh, it’s okay,” he cooed, turning his wrist in y/n’s hand so he could hold hers. “I was just worried about you, angel,” Finnick explained, “it’s okay. Just stay here.”
“I can help,” y/n whispered, squeezing Finnick’s hand.
Finnick smiled lovingly down at y/n. “I know, I know you can,” he nodded. “Right now though, I need you to help by staying put, I just need to find Katniss, and then we’re getting off of this death trap,” he proposed. He kissed her forehead and placed a y/f/w in her hand before he turned around and headed to the entrance of the dome.
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“You’re the girl who volunteered for the old lady that was reaped,” Katniss observed. “Right?” She asked, squinting at y/n.
Y/n bit her lip shyly and nodded. Her eyes flickered from Katniss’s gaze to Finnick’s uncertainly. When he smiled and nodded at her reassuringly, she let out a relieved sigh.
“Katniss,” Katniss introduced, holding her hand out towards y/n in symbolic gesture. “That was really brave of you,” she commented kindly.
Y/n sucked her lips in as she glanced at her ally’s extended hand. After getting nonverbal approval from Finnick, she accepted the girl’s hand and shook it. She noticed the expectant but nevertheless considerate look on Katniss’s face. “Oh,” she whispered bashfully. “Y/n,” she answered, offering a shy smile.
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Finnick had taken any measures possible to keep y/n in his sights at all times. When their group ventured through the foreign terrain, he’d established y/n’s place as being between Katniss and himself. He elected to remain at the back of the group to ensure he always had eyes on her. By having her stay behind Katniss, he felt reassured that she wouldn’t be risking walking into a trap. He knew the deal they’d made with Heavensbee. But, that didn’t mean he was going to let y/n be put in danger along the way.
Finnick’s measures hadn’t accounted for y/n offering herself up to find Johanna though. As such, he was taken by surprise when she proposed the idea to Katniss as their group made a game plan. He’d tried to shut the notion down immediately, but it seemed y/n was holding her ground.
“I can find her, Fin,” y/n promised. Her fingers timidly picked at her cuticles as she waited for his response.
“We really shouldn’t split up,” Finnick argued, making his way back to her from where he’d been at helping Peeta sit back up after preforming CPR on their ally.
“One of us has to watch them,” y/n reminded him, nodding towards Katniss as she protectively knelt beside Peeta. “But, we also need to find Johanna,” she defended. Johanna was in on the alliance and the sooner their group was together in the arena, the better. They would be less of a target and more of a threat as a unit. Not to mention, y/n wanted to help the girl as she had become friends with Johanna over the years after winning her games.
Finnick hated the idea of y/n parting from his side. Not because he feared she couldn’t defend herself. But because he wanted to be there should she need backup. And because he simply despised the notion of being away from her for any length of time. Yet, Finnick wouldn’t risk making her more timid. Y/n was right about them needing to split up. And she needed to believe in herself in order to handle this. Regardless of if she stayed with the latest victors or if she went to find Johanna.
Finnick scanned y/n’s body once more as he yet again checked to ensure she was fully prepared to venture out on her own. He ensured she had proper attire for any situation she may encounter, a full array of weapons on her, her shoes and hair tied tightly, etc. Only after he’d established an agreed-upon time for her to return, or at least for her to make an audible signal that she was fine if she couldn’t return yet, did he let her leave to find their friend.
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Finnick groaned as he hobbled over to the sandy shore to rest his body. He knew his troubled mind wouldn’t be able to rest, not with y/n still not back yet. But his body desperately needed it after what he and the District 12 victors had endured from the poisonous fog and fighting off the monkey mutts.
As Finnick carelessly plopped himself onto the sand, he stared out at the waves. Despite the water being extremely choppy due to the wind, it was nothing in comparison to the turmoil inside of him. Hours had passed. It had been not only hours since the time y/n had parted from his side, but also several hours since the time she was to return or at least alert him to her safety. Yet, she’d not returned to him yet. He realized it might be in part of them having to leave their original location due to the poisonous fog. But, that didn’t explain why he hadn’t heard or seen anything that signaled she was trying to communicate with him.
Y/n walked blindly as Johanna guided her to the water. Her vision was completely obscured from the surge of blood that had poured down on them. The gamemakers had decided to trap them in a rainstorm of blood. Where they’d got the blood in the first place wasn’t even something y/n had the capacity to question. The simple fact that she was soaked in blood that had been pouring on them for an hour straight was torturous enough.
Finnick tossed aside the seafood he’d caught for himself and their District 12 allies when he caught sight of y/n. She was covered in some dark yet shimmering substance, her right hand clasped in Johanna’s as they waded into the water roughly a mile down the shore. Finnick dashed across the sand towards them. His pace tripled when he was close enough to realize the substance coating y/n was blood.
“Y/n? Y/n!” Finnick screamed. “Are you okay?! Where have you been?!” He questioned after she timidly whispered his name in a relieved tone as he neared them.
“Not now Finnick,” Johanna greeted, shaking her head warningly at him as she continued to guide y/n further into the water.
“I found Johanna,” y/n murmured shyly, coughing when the blood still dripping down her head entered her parted lips.
Finnick frowned and rushed into the water. “Hey, hey, hey,” he soothed, cupping y/n’s cheeks in his palms. He squinted worryingly when she flinched briefly at his touch, as if she didn’t know it was him. “Honey, tell me what happened,” he requested.
“Y/n got us out,” Johanna answered, squeezing y/n’s shoulder before heading towards the others. “But that’s when the rain started,” she explained, shaking her head in annoyance. She scooped up water and poured it over Wiress’s head. “We thought it was water… It turned out to be blood. Hot thick blood that was coming down”.
“It was choking us,” y/n spoke up, reaching out and feeling around until she was able to clutch onto Finnick’s forearms. “We were stumbling around…gagging on it…blind,” she whimpered.
Finnick heard Johanna continue to explain the events, but he’d heard what he needed to know already. He rubbed y/n’s cheek with his thumb, frowning sympathetically at the amount of blood that came off with his touch. “You’re safe now,” he promised. “Let’s get you cleaned up, love,” he offered, taking her hands in his.
“You’re okay, keep your eyes closed, honey,” Finnick instructed as he guided her to her knees in the water. He whispered various soothing sentiments as he tended to her, being sure to get all of the blood off of her. She didn’t need any lingering visual reminder of what she’d just gone through.
Finnick watched y/n’s chest closely as he tried to gauge her breathing. She was balled up between him and Johanna. Her head was resting on the edge of his shoulder as her hands were hooked around her knees. Finnick caught Johnna staring at him questioningly and he shook his head.
“Do you want me to make the others leave?” Finnick asked, worried by y/n’s shallow and quick breathing. “Or we could go for a walk, get some fresh air,” he offered. He figured Katniss trying to decipher Wiress’ rambling wasn’t helping y/n clear her mind.
Y/n shook her head. She could do this. She had to do this. She couldn’t fall apart now, they still had so long to go. She tried to take a deep breath, the intensity of its choppy sound making her panic worsen.
“Hey, just breathe,” Finnick guided, spinning around on the sand until he was seated in front of y/n. “Sugar, look at me, look at me,” he whispered, tilting her head up. When her eyes met his, he smiled supportively. “In and out, okay? Copy me”.
Y/n smiled tiredly as Finnick returned to her side. “Thank you,” she hummed shyly. She felt her already stabilizing heart rate relax further as his arms wrapped securely around her.
“I’m never letting you leave my side again,” Finnick vowed. “I was so worried,” he confessed as he rested his head on y/n’s.
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Katniss had informed their group that the arena was set up like a clock, and they agreed to head to the Cornucopia to gather weapons, as well as to scan the area and verify her theory. The whole way there, Finnick was being overly protective of y/n. He knew she was already bouncing back from the blood rain, but still wished she could have more time to recover from the mental impacts of it before they had to head to such a risky location in the arena. As such, it wasn’t until Johanna had scanned the back of the cornucopia for threats that he let go of her hand so she could move freely.
Their group huddled over a diagram of the arena Peeta had drawn in the sand as they reviewed the different threats in each sector. Y/n felt eyes on her when Katniss asked if she’d seen anything during her time away from their group. She smiled faintly in appreciation to Johanna when she answered for y/n that all they’d seen was blood.
“It doesn't matter,” Peeta reassured y/n, sensing her remorse over not having known more information about the arena. “If we know which sector is active, we’ll be safe,” he concluded, standing up from his kneeling position in the sand.
“Yeah, relatively speaking,” Finnick remarked, unable to be as optimistic as Peeta given the hourly threats weren’t their only trouble.
Y/n’s eyes snapped away from Finnick at the sound of Wiress’ gasp. She pulled a knife out of her pocket and threw it at Gloss as he stood behind Wiress. She frowned as she noticed that despite her knife and Katniss’s arrow having struck Gloss flawlessly, the man had already taken Wiress’ life.
Finnick moved forward to keep y/n from running to Wiress as the woman collapsed to the ground.
Y/n tactically shoved Finnick aside, spinning to strike Cashmere with her newly obtained trident as the District 1 victor charged towards him. She knocked the tribute to the ground and they promptly wrestled against each other.
Finnick went to help y/n after having realized why she’d pushed him aside. Only, he found himself having to fight off Brutus instead. He growled as he attempted to finish the battle quickly.
Finnick had barely rose back up from his knees after a blade seemingly tossed by y/n scraped Brutus’s shoulder and scared him away when Peeta was running after the monster of a victor. He stopped Peeta’s offensive move, knowing he’d easily be outmatched by the District 2 tribute. He shoved Peeta’s resisting frame back as his eyes searched the cornucopia for y/n. Just as his eyes found y/n’s tousled hair, he was knocked down as the ground underneath him began to spin.
Y/n gasped as she was suddenly thrown off of Cashmere as the cornucopia rotated. Her fingers frantically searched the damp rocks for a place to hold onto. Just when she thought she’d found one, a slab of metal flung off the dome and knocked her hands off of the thin grasp she had on the structure of the cornucopia. She let out an uncharacteristic scream as her body tumbled down the wet foundation towards the water. It wasn’t the water that worried her, it was how fast the surface was spinning above the water that was the problem. If she were to hit the side of it on her way down, she’d suffer the same fate she just watched Cashmere endure.
“Y/n!” Finnick shouted upon hearing her scream. He held tightly onto the surface as he mentally pleaded for y/n to be okay. He instinctively caught Peeta when his body slid down the rocks beside him, keeping him afloat without having to shift his mind off of thoughts about y/n’s wellbeing. His blood ran cold as he heard his love let out another scream.
“Y/n! No!” Johanna screamed, futilely reaching towards the surging water below her. She and Katniss were both still struggling to stay on shore, but y/n had been flung off despite three victors’ best efforts.
Finnick found himself unable to breathe when the cornucopia stopped spinning. But it wasn’t from the surge of adrenaline, nor from the speed of the spinning motion. Instead, his fear and concern for y/n had rendered him breathless. He scrambled to his feet the second the surface stopped moving. The trident in his hand shook nervously as he frantically searched the island for her.
“Finnick!” Johanna shouted, waving him over.
“She fell in,” Katniss explained breathily, giving Finnick a remorseful look.
“F-Fi-,” y/n forced out, choking on the freezing water as she breached the shore. She hadn’t seen what happened to him after she’d thrown the blade at Brutus awhile ago. Long before the very ground they were on literally turned against them. She needed to know he was okay.
Finnick once again picked up on y/n’s quiet exclamation. His eyes snapped in the direction of her voice and he sighed in slight relief upon seeing her alive and breathing. He tossed his trident aside as he ran down the stone trail that lead to where she was. He helped her pull herself ashore, holding her to him immediately. “I thought I lost you,” he whimpered, tightening his grip on her frail and trembling body.
Finnick pulled back after a moment, his eyes searching y/n’s face. “Say something,” he begged. Her timidity was too concerning right now. “Are you hurt?!”
Y/n grabbed Finnick’s bicep as she staggered backwards to show him her leg. During her fight with Cashmere, she’d been stabbed in the thigh. Having been dragged down the rough surface of the cornucopia surely hadn’t done much to help the wound. She swallowed as she took note of just how much worse the injury now was.
“N…no, no, no, no, no, no, no,” Finnick rambled, his eyes watering. He dropped to his knees, his hands pressing firmly against y/n’s wound. “Y/n?” He questioned when he didn’t hear her whimper even slightly at the pressure. His eyes gazed up at her as he sucked in short choppy breaths. “Hey, I’ve got you, you’re going to be okay,” he promised, seeing the defeated look in y/n’s eyes.
“Keep your eyes on me,” Finnick instructed, adjusting his hand placement when Johanna ran up to him with a small first aid kit from the cornucopia. “O-okay? Honey,” he whispered, trying to prevent his voice from showing the fear that was surging inside him, “just focus on me… We’re going to be okay!”
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As Katniss discussed the plan with Peeta, y/n walked over to Finnick. She tried to hide her limp, not wanting to worry him further. “Do you need anything Finn?” She asked softly as she set her hand on his shoulder.
Finnick quickly turned his head upwards, not knowing she was going with Katniss on the supply run. “No, love, where are you going?” He asked rhetorically. He knew where y/n was planning on going based off her question and the plan they’d all formed. But, he was hoping by asking she’d reconsider.
“She needs help,” y/n whispered shyly.
Finnick smiled lovingly at y/n but shook his head. “I’ll go with,” he proposed, knowing y/n wasn’t going to relent on her helping Katniss.
“Finny,” y/n sighed. “You don’t have t-“.
“I know,” Finnick said. He picked his trident up off the ground and took her hand in his other. “Ready?” He asked.
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Y/n’s eyes shot open as she heard Finnick screaming her name. She whipped her head back and forth in search of her boyfriend. She silently ran after him as he bolted into the gathering of trees. She froze when she heard her own voice screaming for Finnick’s help. Jabberjays. “It’s not real!” She yelled, resuming her running. Only, the Jabberjays playback of her voice was far louder and Finnick had run too far for her to reach him.
“He can’t see you, stop!” Johanna explained, motioning towards the clear barrier between the hourly sectors as she held y/n back.
Katniss was on her knees, pressed up against the invisible divider between her and the others as the Jabberjays mimicked her sister Prim’s voice. The District 12 victor had been fortunate enough to see the others through on the opposite side of the divide before she was overtaken by the screaming. So at least she knew it wasn’t real.
Finnick wasn’t that lucky. He’d left Johanna watching over y/n as she and Peeta slept. Meanwhile he was only a few hundred feet away, teaching Katniss how to form some knots for the next step in their plan. That’s when the Jabberjays attacked. He hadn’t even thought to look back to where he’d last seen y/n when he heard her voice crying for him to help her. Instead, he instinctively rushed towards the sound. As such, he’d ventured further into the Jabberjay sector than Katniss and didn’t have the chance to see the others were safe, to see y/n was actually safe. Sure Katniss tried to remind him that they were just Jabberjays. But, he knew Jabberjays copied things they’d heard. Meaning y/n could very well be hurt somewhere in the arena somehow right now, begging for him to come to her rescue.
Tears streamed down Finnick’s face as he knelt on the damp grass. His hands were shaking as they covered his ears, his heart racing out of control. This had to be fake. The screams coming from the Jabberjays were excruciating. If y/n were truly screaming at that volume instead of the Jabberjays increasing it for the purpose of his torture, she had to be in a near-death state. He’d never heard her this loud before. It had to be fake. He couldn’t live without her. It had to be fake. It had to be.
“I know, I know,” y/n cooed as she embraced Finnick. She had wrapped herself around his crumpled frame the second the invisible barrier between them had absolved. “I’m here, handsome, I’m here,” she promised, gasping as he clung onto her.
“You’re sure you’re okay?!” Finnick repeated frantically, leaning back to see y/n. His eyes analyzed her several-hour-old wound on her thigh despite her nodding her head. He pulled her back into his embrace, pressing kisses all over her face.
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Y/n gasped as Finnick jumped in front of her, intentionally trapping her between him and the tree behind her so she couldn’t take the arrow that Katniss had pointed at them instead of him.
“Katniss, remember who the real enemy is,” Finnick spoke calmly. He slid his foot backwards to signal for y/n to stop trying to wordlessly squirm her way out from behind him. He wasn’t going to let her try and block the arrow him hitting him. If one of them had to go down like this, it was going to be him.
Finnick didn’t need to see y/n’s expression to know she was too timid to say anything, her fear silencing her. Nor did he need words to know she was angry that he was making this decision for the both of them. But he had to.
Finnick let out a sigh when he watched Katniss move her bow away from him and point it towards the artificial sky above them. He felt y/n move to his side, his hand finding her hip and tugging her closer while his gaze cautiously stayed on Katniss.
As the girl from District 12 released her bow, Finnick moved y/n back. He guided them both to the ground before the impact could knock them down. Finnick saw y/n’s worried stare and he stroked her cheek before he covered her with his body. “Stay down honey, we’re getting out of this together,” he murmured lovingly.
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Finnick Odair Taglist: @ell0ra-br3kk3r
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nebulaafterdark · 5 months
Text
Exile (Part 4)
Summary: Y/N Undersee thought the games were over after becoming a victor. Unfortunately, life outside the arena has become just as dangerous. Prequel to Moves & Countermoves
Trigger warning: forced prostitution, explicit sexual content, alcohol/drug use and other mentions of trauma. 18+ ONLY
Part 3
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The reaping for the 64th hunger games, brings forth their tributes, Denali and Maximus. The girl, is sixteen and her little brother, only fourteen. Orphans, surviving solely off of tesserae and profits made from pedaling contraband at the hob.
When Y/N comes to greet them on the train, Denali has her brother tucked behind her protectively, near the table of food. “Hello.”
Denali watches her with wary eyes.
“You should eat.” Y/N tells her. “Both of you. Get your strength up for the arena.”
Maximus reaches out for a dinner roll, but his sister slaps it from his hand.
“You first.” Denali demands. She needs to be sure it’s not poisoned.
Y/N closes the space between them, taking the abandoned bread and tearing off a piece. Placing it into her mouth, she chews and swallows.
Maximus presses his lips together, gulping hard. He can almost taste it.
“My name is Y/N. I’ll be your mentor-”
“Where’s the other one? The man?”
“Haymitch is down in the bar car.” Y/N tells them.
“He’s been doing it longer, we want him.” Denali says.
“Fine.” Y/N crosses both arms over her chest, toying with the bracelet on her left wrist. “But the two of you stay here, and eat. Please eat.”
The girl narrows her gray, seam, eyes, watching the woman leave. She’s seen her before, sneaking around where she didn’t belong. The man, Haymitch, was from the seam, before he won the games. He still comes down to the hob, Denali’s sold to him a couple times. Most recently, a bracelet, woven from stitching scraps. For his wife, he’d told her…and the woman, Y/N, is wearing it.
The victors return after a long moment, their hands intertwined. Y/N appears to be leading Haymitch toward them, against his will.
Maximus and his sister stare at him, expectantly.
Haymitch smiles, “I heard you wanted to see me.”
“Y-yes. You’re our mentor and we need strategy and-”
“Woah,” Haymitch stops the girl’s train of thought, “you’re barking up the wrong tree, sweetheart.”
“What?”
“That’s her department,” Haymitch jerks his chin toward his wife.
“Then what do you do?” Denali asks.
“Enjoy the refreshments,” Haymitch lifts his glass.
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Upon arriving in the Capitol, Y/N and Haymitch are collected to film interviews. Caesar always finds a way to make the most of their time here. But over the years, it has proven useful in gaining sponsors for their tributes.
“We’re happy.” Haymitch reminds Y/N. “We’re in love and so glad to be here.”
Y/N nods, blinking up at him through obscenely long lashes. Vanity has done a number on her this time. Y/N is her muse, the one who inspired her to leave her position as stylist for the games and design pieces for her victor full time.
The people of the Capitol cannot get enough. Anything Y/N wears, they want to wear. Tonight is a cotton candy pink dress.
“For the first time, on this very stage, we will be joined by Mr. and Mrs. Abernathy.” Caesar announces, riling the crowd into a frenzy.
Last time they were here was their wedding day and Snow obviously had better things for them to do afterwards than gossip with Caesar Flickerman.
“Please give our newly weds a warm welcome, Y/N and Haymitch.” Caesar motions toward them from the stage, their queue to join him.
Haymitch reaches back for her hand, waving out at the crowd as they cross the floor.
Y/N greets Caesar first. He likes her better than Haymitch anyway, most people do.
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“Where’ve you been?” Maximus asks his mentors, after the tribute parade.
“Clearly they have more important things to do than help us.” Denali turns up her nose in their direction.
The tributes are dressed as coal miners…again.
“Do you have any idea how much a bottle of water goes for in the arena? A loaf of bread? Medicine?” Haymitch cuts in. “Those things don’t come cheap, sweetheart.”
“So what?” Denali doesn’t understand how their absence would change that.
“There’s people here with a lot of money.” Y/N explains. “The more time we spend with them, the more money they’re willing to provide our tributes. I’m sorry that we had to step away, but that’s why I supplied you with the tablets. Did you have a chance to look over the strategy files?”
Denali shakes her head of dark curls.
“That’s ok, we still have time.” Y/N assures her, “let’s go up to our floor. We can discuss it over dinner.”
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The district twelve escort, a woman named Cordelia Walters, who desperately hopes to be reassigned to another district; holds the elevator for them. “Chop, chop.” She claps her hands together. Like herding animals in a zoo.
“Always a delight.” Haymitch snarks, as they step into the confined space.
Y/N huffs a laugh, pressing her lips together. Their escorts seem to have a high turnover rate. She hopes that holds true.
Dinner is tense, Cordelia can’t be bothered with listening to defense strategy details. “Can we talk about something else?”
“Oh, sure!” Y/N pipes up, “let’s discuss the up in coming fashion for the spring. I have all of Vanity’s sketches.”
“Really?” The woman squeals, “you don’t think she’ll mind?”
“Not at all.” Y/N lies, “here, take it. You can bring it back in the morning.”
“Thank you.” The Capitol woman races away, closing the door to her suite behind her.
“That’s one way to do it.” Haymitch lifts a shoulder, poking at the peas on his plate.
“Now we can talk?” Maximus asks, shoveling another spoonful into his mouth.
“Yeah,” Y/N smiles. “You can start by telling me what you’re good at.”
“I’m a fast runner.” The boy tells her.
“Had to be, we’ve been running all our lives.” Denali adds, still unsure if Y/N can be trusted.
“And what about you,” Y/N asks, “what are you good at?”
“I’m strong and good with a knife.” The girl tells her. “We just need you to give us a chance.”
Y/N leans in, across the table, “we can train you, separate from the other tributes. We can supply you with anything you might need from a sponsor. We can prepare you for your interviews. No one is rooting for you more than we are.”
The four of them talk late into the night, answering questions. Exchanging stories and discussing useful weapon tactics.
Haymitch’s number one rule is not to get attached. However his wife, either cannot or will not follow it.
When they finally retire to their room, Y/N makes a mad dash for the white pills, on the bedside table. The contents rattle in her shaking hand.
“Here, angel.” Haymitch takes it from her, “that won’t help.”
“But you said-” White is for pain.
He reaches for another bottle. “Take this.” He deposits a yellow pill into her hand. Then a blue. For her nerves and to help her sleep.
Y/N swallows them down, attempting to catch her breath.
“Come here.” Haymitch wraps her up in his arms. Placing a hand over her heart and rubbing gently, “that’s where it hurts, huh?”
She nods, praying that the pills take effect soon.
“The white ones can’t help with that.” He continues, attempting to soothe the ache.
“How do you do this?” Y/N leans into him. “It’s only been four years and I feel like-”
“Before you, those ten years after I won….I drank until I blacked out and I can still see their faces. I remember their names. I see their families, back home and it never gets easier. It never gets better. But you find ways to live with it.”
Y/N lets out a sob, “I can’t. I can’t.”
“I’ll help you.” I’ll do whatever it takes.
“I want to go home.”
“I know,” Haymitch breathes. “But the pills are gonna kick in soon. Then you’ll feel better.”
“I don’t want to feel better. I want to save those kids!”
“We can try.” Haymitch says, somberly.
“If I overdose, what happens to my family?” Y/N wonders, eyelids growing heavy as Haymitch shuffles her toward the bed.
“Snow wanted to have them executed after your games. As punishment for you not killing Tyson. He was only willing to negotiate a deal, in exchange for my…work. If you kill yourself, I have nothing else to offer him. No leverage. He’ll kill them and sell me; again.” Haymitch explains, pulling off her shoes. “But I wouldn’t blame you.”
Y/N sucks in a breath. She has something to live for. Her sister, her parents and him. She has Haymitch to live for. Therefore she cannot die. “It was only a hypothetical question, I wasn’t- I wouldn’t-” leave you.
Haymitch pats her cheek, the drugs have kicked in and her tears have subsided. “Goodnight, angel.”
Taglist: @spideysimpossiblegirl @ancientbeing10 @1-800-styles @l3xi3luv @lam-ila @druby2011-blog @liballer @readinginthe-am @rae-11 @champomiel @mariechristine00
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agent-grey-fics · 3 months
Text
Oh, I love it and hate it at the same time. - Finnick Odair
Pairing: Finnick Odair x fem reader Wordcount: 6k pure filth
Warnings: porn without a polt, filth, drugs, mentioning of prostitution, sex, mental breakdown Summary: Finnick and y/n both won their games and when they returned home it became clear that they were puppets in Snow's hands. They’re the same, something they love and hate at the same time.
AN: This is pure filth, you're welcome.
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A victor. That’s what you are. 
A victor of a game you never wanted to play in the first place. When you got reaped at the age of fifteen you never imagined getting out alive, you thought that you would get killed in the first couple of days by one of the careers. But the usual alliances never formed, the careers started killing each other off by day three and the odds ended up being in your favour after all. You were the victor of the 67th Hunger Games and became a Capitol favourite. Not that you won much. You got PTSD and woke up almost every night screaming bloody murder because of the flashbacks that haunted your dreams. That was the life of a victor. Well not only the haunting dreams but you were also expected to show your face at the presidential balls organised by Snow in the capital. It was no secret that he played the victors as puppets and used them in any way he pleased. That’s how you ended up on the dancefloor with a middle-aged man whose hands kept creeping lower and lower on your back. That’s what you hated the most. They made you a killer and when you got out you weren’t free at all. They promised you a life full of prosperity and serenity in the victor's village back home in District 5 but it was all a lie. You had your peace for three weeks, four tops, but after your victor's tour Snow invited you for a chat in his office and you finally realised you were on this train forever. He made it clear that you were his property from now on and that he could use you as he pleased. 
The guy you were dancing with was one of Snow’s associates, he was surprisingly friendly. Most of them didn’t treat you as a person, you were just a warm and desirable body for them to use as they pleased. You let your eyes wander over the dancefloor when all of a sudden they locked with a familiar green pair. Finnick gave you his famous cheeky smile but it didn’t reach his eyes, they had a sad tone to them. That’s when you noticed the lady on his arm, another Capotil elite. You gave him a small smile. The two of you were caught in the same trap, he a bit longer than you were. You met him at the end of your Victor's tour, after your chat with Snow. Finnick asked you to dance and while he spun you around the floor he warned you for the president and made sure you understood the danger. After that day he started looking out for you. The two of you stuck together, tried to save each other as much as possible and looked after one another. He became your safe haven. The capitol wondered out loud what kind of relationship their favourite victors had. They speculated that they spend their nights together in his bed. Even after it became public that they both had multiple lovers, the gossip continued. You did share his bed but not in the way they expected. You shared it when both of you were lonely, longing for loving touches instead of hungry ones. You could count the times you’ve kissed on one hand and never went further than that. You always wondered how it would be if the two of you had a normal Victors’ life. Would you have met during the next games as mentors and become friends? Would you be as close as you were now? You would be lying if you said you weren’t attracted to the male Victor, but it went beyond his good looks. The two of you just clicked, probably because of the shared trauma but there was so much more to him. He was kind, warm and loyal. He would do anything to protect the ones he loved. Finnick was just Finnick, he was one of a kind. 
‘Don’t you agree Miss Green?’ The man's lips almost touched your ear and a shudder ran down your spine. ‘I’m sorry sir, could you repeat that please?’ You averted your gaze from Finnick so you could look at your client. His laughter roared deep in his chest as he saw your confused expression. ‘I said that this party was getting boring and that we should go back to my place.’ Your heart dropped when you heard his proposition. ‘Is it okay that I go to the bathroom quickly and that we leave afterwards?’ He nodded. ‘Sure, I’ll wait for you in the foyer.’ With a small smile, you made your way across the room. Some partygoers greeted you as you passed them by. When you stood in the bathroom you slammed the door shut as you tried to calm yourself down. ‘Come on y/n, you’ve done this a million times. It’s just another guy and it’s just sex. You will be out of there in no time’ you mumbled to yourself as you stared at your reflection in the mirror whiles you fished a little baggy out of your bra. Another side effect of the games was your drug dependency. It started as a medical treatment to keep you sane but now all you wanted was to forget the games and their hands touching your skin. 
After swallowing the pill you waited a couple of minutes until you felt the familiar haze creeping into your system. You washed your hands and walked out without paying attention to where you were walking. You bumped into a tall person, their hands encircling your waist to prevent you from falling to the ground. “Shit, sorry.’ When you looked up you were greeted by the sea-green eyes you learned to love. ‘Oh Finnick, hi.’ He gave you one of his dashing grins when he saw the shock on your face. ‘You’re leaving with him?’ A soft sigh left your lips. ‘One of Snow’s associates.’ He nodded understandingly grin still on his lips but that faded when he saw your dilated pupils. ‘Are you kidding me y/n? You’re high right now?’ You took a step back and shrugged your shoulders. ‘You’re high all of the time, so it’s really not your place to tell me what I can do and what not.’ Finnick knew that the two of you were in the same boat, being sold to the highest bidders and you both had developed your own coping mechanisms along the way. ‘Never whiles I’m on the job.’ It was a mumble when it left his lips and he gave you an accusing look. ‘Yeah sorry Finn but I cannot do this sober. I should get back, let me pass please.’ Finnick dropped his head as he took a step aside to let you pass. ‘Text me when you’re done? I’ll pick you up so you don’t need to stay over.’ You just nodded as you brushed past him so you could get to the foyer. ‘There you are, ready to go?’ A fake smile found its way to your lips as you nodded your head. ‘Let’s go.’
Most of the time they took you to fancy hotels so their partners didn’t find out about their little affairs but he took you home. When you walked into his flat it was striking how neat his place was, you weren’t expecting this. There were pictures of groups of smiling people, holding champagne flutes and landscapes. He was wealthy, hence the penthouse and the ultra-modern design of the place. ‘What did you say your job was again?’ He had talked about boring meetings and how the dance was a much-welcome distraction. ‘Military detail.’ You jumped a little when you heard how close he was. ‘Right, sorry it was a busy night.’ His hands were on you before you could finish your sentence, tracing soft circles on your hips. ‘Don’t worry about it.’ His hands spun you around and he planted his lips on yours. Throughout the years you learned that the more you fought the harder it was, so you just went along with his moves. You hoped that you could get out of this place soon. 
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02:45 Can you come to get me?  - y/n
You texted Finnick fifteen minutes ago with your location attached after you told the client you didn’t stay over. He offered to drive you home but you said it was okay. When you walked out of the apartment complex you noticed Finnicks bike, of course he rode his motor here instead of his car. He held a spare helmet out and you took it without saying a word. The two of you had established this relationship where you showed up but didn’t ask questions. As you swung your leg over the passenger seat you mumbled a small thanks. He sped away, the wind gave you goosebumps but so you pulled yourself even closer to Finnick. You had your arms tightly wrapped around his waist as a support so you didn't fall off. He placed one of his hands on yours as the two of you rode through the night. The ride back to your place took you less than ten minutes. You were standing in front of your small studio, looking for your keys. Finnick leaned nonchalantly against the wall next to you. ‘You know who that was, right?’ You just shrugged your shoulders. ‘Some military guy, didn’t pay too much attention.’ A soft laugh escaped his lips. ‘He’s head of the peacekeepers and Snow’s personal security personnel.’ ‘Oh.’ You finally opened your door and walked in, Finnick following close behind. ‘I’m gonna take a shower, please stay?’ He nodded as he made himself comfortable on your couch, kicking his shoes off. ‘I know the drill.’ The roles had been reversed hundreds of times when he was a mess and you had to put him back together. You immediately turned o the shower when you entered the bathroom, the water as hot as you could handle so it would burn the feeling of his wandering fingers away. The clothes you wore were thrown in a pile on the floor and you looked at your body in the mirror, bruises started to form on your thighs. At least it wasn’t in plain sight. When the water made contact with your body it stung a bit, but after a while it was a pleasant feeling. You washed your hair and body with a sandalwood-smelling shampoo and body wash and thirty minutes later you walked back into your living room where Finnick was flipping through tv channels, long shirt covering the black sleep shorts you were wearing. He patted the cushion next to him, signalling for you to sit down. The blissful haze you fell a couple of hours ago was wairing off and your hands were trembling a bit. ‘It’s getting late, I would rather go to bed.’ You mumbled as you pointed over your shoulder to your small bedroom. ‘Sure, whatever you want honey.’ He reached for his shoes to put them back on and leave you alone, you looked exhausted. ‘No stay please, I don’t want to be alone tonight.’ He didn’t say anything when he got up out of his seat, when he passed you by towards your room he grabbed your hand so he could pull you along. You immediately crawled into your bed and left the covers open for Finnick who was taking off his clothes so he could slip into the pyjamas he kept at your place. When he stood at the side of your bed he just saw the broken girl he met after her games when she first came out of the arena. The girl he nursed back to life to the best of his abilities. You looked so broken and small.
Your back was turned towards him when you felt the bed dipping in next to you. ‘Come here,’ he mumbled whiles he threw an arm across your waist pulling you into his chest. A shaky breath left your lips as you felt his body heat against your skin. You turned around in his hold so you could face him. ‘Finnick I don’t know how long I can keep doing this. The appearances at the parties I can handle, I can pretend to be happy to be there but the sleeping around with half of the Capitol’s elite is killing me.’ Tears welt up in your eyes and your vision got blurry. ‘You know what happens if we stop, you saw what they did to Johanna.’ She was the victor of the 71st Hunger Games and her entire family was murdered when she refused to be Snow’s puppet. ‘My family doesn’t even want to see me anymore, they think I’m some cheap whore.’ It was true, They were embarrassed for you when you visited them since your whole life was smeared on TV and in the tabloids. Everyone knew what you were doing but they didn't know why you were doing it. That didn't matter to them, they had already decided who you were. ‘He already took everything away from me.’ He gently rubbed your back, a comforting gesture. ‘They just don’t know what’s going on.’ You pressed your cheek against his chest while you sneaked your arm around his waist. ‘We’re going to be ok y/n, we’ll be ok.’
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A week had passed since Finnick had spent the night at your place, you hadn’t heard from him since. It wasn’t unusual, the two of you needed space and alone time as well. You had spent the last hour on your makeup and hair since you were expected at a party again when your phone lit up with a text.
08:15 Need a ride? - F 
You replied a simple yes, knowing that he would show up within the next fifteen minutes. Tonight you were invited just as a guest, no clients or hidden agendas. Just you and Finnick socialising with the elites as usual. As you stood in front of the mirror in your room there was a knock at the door. ‘The door’s open Finn!’ You yelled back while you fixed the straps of your dress. You decided to wear a red floor-length dress with small spaghetti straps, it was a simple look but you were in love with the gown. ‘Y/n, are you ready to go?’ He turned around the corner when he saw you standing in front of the mirror and let out a wolf whistle. ‘Too much?’ He shook his head. ‘No, just enough you look great.’ A smile spread across your lips as you took his own appearance. ‘You look not too bad yourself either.’ It was a joke, he looked handsome and he knew he did. He gave you a wink as he stretched his hand out towards you. ‘Let’s get the gossip mill going again.’ You shook your head as a laugh rolled off your lips.  ‘Yeah let’s go.’ Finnick’s driver dropped the two of you off at the entrance of the mansion where the party took place. The stairs towards the house were packed, some of them turning their heads as they saw the two of you arrive. ‘Let’s give them something to talk about, shall we?’ With those words he slid his arm around your middle, placing his hand on the small of your back so he could guide you through the mass. You could feel their gazes burning on your skin as the two of you made your way towards the entrance of the building. You said your hello’s too familiar faces and plastered a smile on your lips. When you were inside Finnick walked in front of you whiles he grabbed one of your hands in his as he pulled you along. ‘What do you want to drink?’ He came to a stop at the beverage table. The table looked like a full-on bar with fancy drinks on display. ‘Something strong, need to be tipsy as soon as possible.’ Finnick reached for two tequila-based cocktails and handed one to you. ‘There you go, love.’ You took a sip and pulled a shocked face, those were strong. The two of you walked to the entrance of the main room so you could take a look at all those who were attending. Without thinking about it, he put an arm around you, his hand resting on your hip and you leaned into his touch. ‘What was the party for again?’ You asked him. Finnick had always been better at these events, he always knew who was hosting and what the occasion was. ‘The oldest daughter of the Pierces and the second eldest son of the Oakleys are engaged, so their parents threw an engagement party.’ You nodded as you remembered when you heard his words. ‘Right.’ His thumb traced small circles over the dress’s fabric at your hip and you were wondering if he was doing it on purpose. ‘They will gossip no matter what we’re doing so you don’t have to give a big performance,’ You joked as you nudged his side softly. ‘Mh?’ For a minute you thought that he didn’t know what he was doing but then you saw the mischievous glint in his eyes. ‘Finnick Odair, unbelievable.’ A hoarse laugh left his lips before he took another sip of the drink in his hand.
‘What do you think of a dance?’ He looked down at you, waiting for your answer. ‘Yeah sure, but I was hoping for more than one tho.’ Finnick emptied his glass and you followed his lead, pulling a face when the alcohol burned down your throat. ‘You have my undivided attention all night Miss Green.’ You rolled your eyes at his comment as you pushed him in front of you. ‘If you say so Odair.’ Once the two of you found a place on the dancefloor he pulled you in by your hips taking one hand in his and started slowly swaying to the music. You placed your cheek against his chest and let him lead as you closed your eyes. His heartbeat pounded softly in your ear. Finnick lowered his head so he could whisper in your ear. ‘They are all staring.’ A small smile spread across your lips as his warm breath tickled your skin. You lifted your head from his chest and looked around, they indeed were eying the two of you. You could almost see the wheels spinning in their heads trying to figure out what you guys were to each other. ‘You wanted to give them a show.’ He rolled his eyes and a laugh left his lips. ‘I’m not complaining, I just warned you about what’s happening.’ You shrugged your shoulders. It was in these moments that you felt free and normal. Just a girl dancing with a guy she liked. He softly stroked a lost strand of hair behind your ear, it was such an intimate feeling that it made you blush. ‘Did I make the Miss Green blush?’ He had this cocky grin on his lips when he looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. ‘Oh shut up Finnick.’ As the song ended the two of you found your way back to the bar, going for shots of tequila this time. 
The more alcohol flowed the more handsy you both became, not that you minded. By two in the morning, Finnick had your back pressed flush against his front and moved his hips along with yours to the rhythm of the music, hands roaming your body at the same time. You had thrown one arm back around his neck pulling him closer. You knew what they say, ‘Tequila is nasty but after a few shots, so am I’ and you definitely were far past acting descent and composed. But you weren’t the only ones, the dancefloor was packed with grinding couples who could not keep their hands off each other. Your little performance ran out of hand. Maybe you should have stopped after the fifth shot of tequila but you had gotten carried away. At one point Finnick had placed the lemon wedge between your lips and almost kissed you when he took it out of your mouth with his own lips. You had not meant to be glued against each other in the middle of the dance floor but there you were. Finnick leaned down and placed a trail of soft kisses on your jawline. ‘Mh, Finn maybe we should go home. I think you made your point clear and gave them a show.’ A chuckle left his lips and he spun you around in his arms. You weren't sure how much of tonight was staged and what was real but you hadn’t had this much fun in a long time, that’s for sure. He clasped his hands together behind your back and you swung yours around his neck. ‘Do you wanna go?’ You nodded. ‘Okay let’s go then.’ Once again he took one of your hands into his and started guiding you towards the exit before you were stopped by a middle-aged guy. ‘Y/n, do you have one more dance in you for me?’ He had this grin on his face that made you shiver, not in a good way. ‘Sorry mate we’re just leaving.’ Finnick spoke for you as he saw the hesitation in your eyes. ‘Oh come, you had her all night Odair let the others also have some fun.’ He stepped in front of you, shielding you from the guy. ‘I said that we’re going, so back off okay?’ Finnick spoke, his words laced with a threatening undertone. Everyone in his right mind would back off, he was one of the most deathly tributes the capitol had ever seen, crazily skilled in hand-to-hand combat. The other guy eyed him up and down and he then shifted his gaze towards you. You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. ‘Finn let’s go.’ You softly pulled Finnick back indicating you wanted to leave as soon as possible. His hand tensed in yours and squeezed your fingers as he turned away from the guy, ready to leave. ‘Whatever dude, everyone already had her.’ Before you could say something, before you could pull him back, Finnick had spun around and his fist made contact with the guy's jaw. He almost stumbled to the floor when he got punched. ‘You fucking asshole.’ Several shocked gasps were audible all around you. No one expected the Capitol's favourite to lose his temper like this, he was known for keeping his composure in public. ‘Finninck!’ You stepped forward and clung to his arm in an attempt to hold him back. The man clutched his jaw in surprise as if he had not seen the blow coming at all. ‘If I ever see you near her again or even hear you talking about her I’ll fucking kill you, understand?’ All he could do was nod, still not getting what just happened. ‘Finnick let’s go.’ You urged as you saw people pooling around the scene you just caused. As he turned around and started walking away he pulled you behind him by your hand. It was because he was drunk otherwise, he would never have thrown that punch you thought to yourself. The alcohol was the only explanation. ‘Guess the rumours are true then, he’s sleeping with her.’ You heard a girl say to her friend when the two of you passed them. 
Once you were finally outside, he let go of your hand and went through his hair in frustration. ‘Fuck.’ he grumbled to himself. What the fuck just happened? You opened your mouth to say something but quickly shut it again when you didn’t know what you wanted to say. Snow was going to make you pay for this, you just knew it. Finnick’s driver drove the car out front and opened the door of the back seat. Finnick got into the car without saying a word and kept silent the whole drive back to his place. When the car stopped in front of his building and he got out, you stayed put expecting that Finnick didn’t want you there at the moment. When you didn’t follow him out he gave you a confused look. ‘Get out of the car y/n, I’m not letting you spend the night alone at your place after what just happened.’ You were still confused but you did as you were told and climbed out of the car. Finnick said a thank you to the driver and started walking towards the entrance of his building. It was one of the most modern places you had ever seen, you needed a keycard to enter the building and a code for the elevator since they went straight into his living room on the top floor. He got everything he wanted because he was so loved by the Capitol, he was their golden boy. 
As the two of you stepped into the elevator he only needed a second to push you up against the wall. A small gasp left your lips at his sudden movements. He didn’t give you any time to react as he crashed his lips against yours, these weren’t the sweet touches he used to give you, this was pure anger. You kissed him back, placing your hands against his chest and parting your lips giving him the opportunity to slide his tongue in. Not even trying to gain dominance you let Finnick take the lead, almost melting under his touch. He only stopped kissing you when the elevator opened, ushering you out of the small box into his apartment. It gave you a couple of seconds to catch your breath, a heat rose to your cheeks when you realised what just had happened. But those few seconds were all you got because the moment your feet touched the wooden floor he spun you around and his lips found yours once again. The two of you started walking, you backwards as he guided you through his living room. ‘Finn, what are you-’ He didn’t give you the chance to finish your question as your back hit a wall. One of his legs came up between yours, hoisting up your dress as he spread them apart with his thick thigh. ‘I’m done playing his games.’ His lips found their way to your neck where he softly tucked at your skin. A moan left your lips when he found your sweet spot under your jaw. He sucked on the tender skin until it stung to then soothe it with his tongue. That was gonna bruise. ‘I’m done pretending to be ok when I see you with other people and pick you up afterwards. I don’t want the pieces, I want all of you.’ It took every ounce of self-control left in your body to pull away so you could look at him, placing your hands on both of his shoulders. ‘Finnick-,’ This wasn’t new, you had this kind of conversation before but he never said that he wanted you. You longed for him in a whole different than the Capitol did. You didn’t want him for his body, you wanted him for the man he was. He was kind, caring and loyal. He had this great sense of humour and would do anything to save the people he loved. ‘As you said, we cannot do this. Remember?’ He pressed his forehead against yours
He pressed his thigh firmer against your core and your breath hitched in your throat, you were dripping wet. You were already turned on the moment he had you flush against his chest on the dancefloor at the party. He softly bit your neck, making your head spin. ‘Finnick, we’ve been drinking-’ You were going to say that you didn’t know this was the right moment for this situation, heads being clouded by alcohol but he didn’t give you the chance. He pressed his lips full force against yours, not asking for permission as he forced his tongue inside your mouth. This was a mix of pure anger and lust, you had an idea where this came from but you were still not sure if it was because of you or if you were just at the right place at the right time. His hands found their way around your body and rested on your ass, softly squeezing and not giving you any time to second-guess the situation. He softly tucked at your lower lip when he pulled back. ‘You have no idea about all the things that I want to do to you, y/n.’ A small gasp left your lips when you felt his teeth graze your ear as he softly spoke, his voice more sensual than usual. You just gave in. Your body reacted before you could and without thinking you started rocking your hips over his thigh hoping to gain some friction between your legs, almost sure that you were going to stain his pants with your juices. Finnick smirked when he felt your movements and started guiding your hips over his leg while he pushed you down, creating more pressure. ‘C’mon baby, be a good girl and make yourself feel good.’ Your legs started to tremble as you rode his thigh, swinging one arm around his neck and placing the other hand on his hips to stabilize yourself. With a swift movement, he pulled your panties aside and watch how your pussy rubbed against his thigh. A pink blush rose to your cheeks when you saw the wet spot starting to form where your cunt touched his pants. ‘So wet and I haven’t touched you yet.’ He mumbled as he saw your juices on his thigh. ‘All for you Finn.’ His name rolled in a moan of your lips as you were getting to your high. ‘Were you already wet when we were dancing?’ He breathed in your ear, followed by his teeth scraping your neck. You nodded frantically. ‘Use your words.’ ‘Yes, yes. Fuck’ you threw your head back and screwed your eyes shut. ‘So desperate for a good fuck y/n?’ The way he was treading you combined with the sound of his voice made you only wetter. ‘Fuck Finn, I’m going to come just like this.’ A chuckle left his lips. ‘Look at me.’ You were chasing your high and ignored his order. When you didn’t comply he grabbed your chin and pinched lightly with his fingers, forcing your face down. ‘Look at me I said.’ His dominance excited you. ‘Sorry.’ You muttered and looked at him. His pupils were dilated and radiated pure lust. ‘Sorry who?’ ‘Sorry, sir.’ It rolled off your tongue without thinking twice about it.  ‘Come for me’ After hearing those words the knot inside exploded, your orgasm washing over you like you never experienced before. Legs trembling and Finnick needed to support your upper body. This was pure filth and you were all for it. ‘Fuck.’ You tried to stop but Finnick kept pushing your hips in a grinding motion over his thigh. Your clit grazed over the fabric of his pants, it overstimulated you completely. 'Finn, stop too soon,' you muttered when you felt the knot in your lower abdomen tighten again. Tears began to sting your eyes when he didn't stop. ‘Ah, fuck.’ Your second orgasm came faster than you wanted. You pushed against Finnick's chest. 'Finn stop.' Tears streamed down your cheeks from the overstimulation. It was too much. ‘Are you going to let me fuck you like all of Snow's pawns?’ You nodded, that was all he needed. He took you in his arms in one smooth motion and walked toward his bed. 
'On your knees.' You had never obeyed anyone so quickly. He placed his hand gently on your cheek and stroked your lips with his thumb. 'Are you going to be a good girl for me?' Your hands found their way to the button of his pants. In one swift movement, you undid them and pulled them down eagerly. Finnick followed your every move. His boxers quickly followed causing his cock to stand up proudly against his muscular stomach. You licked your lips. ‘You know what to do.’ You nodded. You took his member in your hand and pumped up and down a few times, his head looking painfully red as pre-cum glistened on it. You teased him by rubbing his head slowly with your thumb. Then you bent over, and with your outstretched tongue you licked a long line from his base to the tip. A hissing sound left his lips. ‘Stop teasing’. You pulled your lip over your teeth and took his cock in your mouth. Gently you moved up and down, building the tension. A blissful sigh left his lips.  You relaxed your jaw and took his length as deep as you could in your mouth. His head pushed against the back of your throat eliciting a gag reflex. Finnick grabbed your hair with one of his hands and pushed against the back of your head as a sign to take him even deeper. 
When you looked up through your eyelashes you saw that he had his head thrown back in delight, his mouth gently agape. A sense of pride spread through you. That you could make Finnick feel so good did something to you; it got even wetter between your legs. ‘Fuck y/n, keep going.’ He wrapped his hands around your neck and squeezed gently. He pushed his hips forward and began to fuck your mouth. Obscene sounds echoed in his bedroom. Your gurgling filled your ears and tears pricked your eyes. 'You look so good like that.' Your mascara by now had to hang everywhere as tears ran down your cheeks in thick drops, saliva running from your mouth. 'Almost there.' he growled between his teeth. He didn't want to admit it but seeing you sitting there made him even hornier and harder. 
You didn't like to admit it but being degraded like that turned you on. You were super horny and couldn't stop your own hand. You slipped your hand into your panties and moved like crazy over your clit. You couldn't wait to bounce on his cock. A moan left your lips, the vibrations drove Finnick crazy and he began to pound even harder into your mouth. After he moaned your name, he squirted thick ropes of cum down your throat and mouth. With a plopping sound, you pulled your mouth off his cock and swallowed his cum obediently. 'Good girl. Now I know why they all want you.’ You had never been so submissive and it turned you on.  ‘Please fuck me.’ It was pathetic, you were begging him to feel his cock inside you. You were still rubbing your clit and he noticed. ‘So desperate for my cock, aren't you?’. You nodded, knowing he was going to give you what you wanted: a good, rough fuck. He pulled you up and pushed you on his back. Your back hit the soft matras. ‘You're never going to want another cock again’ said Finnick with an arrogant grin on his face. ‘Stop teasing, just fuck me Finn.’ The message was clear. He took your leg and pushed it up so that it rested against his shoulder. Without warning, he pushed his cock into you all at once. ‘Fuck.’ You hissed as you clawed at his shoulders, trying to contain the overstimulation. ‘I want to be the only one who can give you this feeling.' He pounded into you at a gruelling pace. It hurt, but it was a pleasurable pain. A moan rolled over your lips. ‘They’ll never touch you again.’ he murmured hoarsely in your ear. You felt the knot in your lower abdomen begin to tighten again. Your walls pinched his cock; he was also near his climax again. ‘Say it.’ Your breath stuck in your throat. 'Fuck, Finn you can only t-' You couldn't hold it back anymore, your orgasm taking over your whole body. Your legs trembled a blissful feeling spread throughout your body ‘-touch me'. He growled approvingly. He lowered your leg but continued to thrust for his own orgasm. He found your neck and began sucking around your pulse point. He left marks, you just knew it.
He moaned your name and came inside you. He leaned his forehead against yours as he caught his breath. 'We'll figure this out.’
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Would you be able to elaborate on your statement about the pseudo sexual imagery of the Everlark pearl? I hadn’t really considered the pearl from that angle before and would love to hear your thoughts on it.
In response to this post So firstly, this in NO WAY takes away from the other symbolism present in the pearl. This is in ADDITION to, NOT instead of. In fact, lemme go into it all from my perspective, although I know MANY creators have expressed a lot of this much more eloquently than I will! PEARLS AS THEY RELATE TO THE CAPITOL
i always viewed the presence of the pearls on Katniss' capitol wedding dress as twofold. Firstly, it speaks of the opulence and extreme perceived wealth of the Capitol. To have a dress adorned with chains of pearls - what a symbol of luxury! I also viewed them as binding/chains. A representation of the "freedom" of the victors. The trappings of their wealth while living under the thumb of the Capitol. Their chains aren't metal, they're beautiful and delicate but still present and just as deadly. Like a gentle hand on their throats.
PEARLS AS THEY RELATE TO PEETA In direct contrast to the Capitol pearls, the pearl Peeta gives Katniss is singular. It isn't purchased, it is found. It is found in a space where Peeta has nothing else to give to Katniss, other than his life. Instead of a chain or a burden it is meant as his symbol of freedom to her, in conjunction with the locket - "I give you fully back to your family. To the people who love and need you. I let you go, but this, here is something to remember me by." (And I also love how it's representative of Peeta's ability to find pieces of beauty in the most horrific of circumstances.) KATNISS' MENTAL CONNECTION OF PEETA AND THE PEARL We also know that, during Peeta's capture, Katniss connects this pearl heavily with Peeta's life and her need to protect it. "Tomorrow morning, I'm going to agree to be the Mockingjay." I tell her. "Because you want to or because you feel forced into it?" she asks. I laugh a little. "Both, I guess. No. I want to. I have to, if it will help the rebels defeat Snow." I squeeze the pearl more tightly in my fist. "It's just...Peeta. I'm afraid if we do win, the rebels will execute him as a traitor." I slip the pearl from the drawer and spend a second sleepless night clutching it in my hand, replaying Peeta's words in my head. "Ask yourself, do you really trust the people you're working with?" I knot the pearl into the corner of the parachute, bury it deep in the recesses of the bag, as if it's Peeta's life and no one can take it away as long as I guard it. Then, later, when Peeta returns and is found to be hijacked, his essence and personhood taken from him and from HER - the Pearl becomes a symbol of the boy she lost and everything he isn't anymore. Then she finds the pearl Peeta gave me. "Is this-?" "Yeah," I say. "Made it through somehow." I don't want to talk about Peeta. One of the best things about training is, it keeps me from thinking of him. "Haymitch says he's getting better," she says. "Maybe. But he's changed," I say. I consider saying a final good-bye to Peeta, decide it would only be bad for both of us. But I do slip the pearl into the pocket of my uniform. A token of the boy with the bread. And, finally, when in the Capitol, in the last mention of the pearl, we connect it with his literal LIFE in Katniss' HANDS. (And Peeta's unwillingness to risk Katniss' life even for his freedom.) "Should we free his hands?" asks Leeg 1. "No!" Peeta growls at her, drawing his cuffs in close to his body. "No," I echo. "But I want the key." Jackson passes it over without a word. I slip it into my pants pocket, where it clicks against the pearl."
And, finally, here we go: THE PEARL AS IT RELATES TO KATNISS' SEXUAL AWAKENING It is no coincidence, to me, that the pearl is gifted from Peeta to Katniss following the events of the kiss on the beach. Katniss has now admitted to herself that Peeta holds sexual currency with her. Her body is reactive to his own and feeds a hunger in her, a flame. The giving and acceptance of the pearl can be viewed as the "tender" of that sexual currency. Katniss ALSO thinks of the pearl as it relates to Peeta in the ways that Peeta was able to make her PHYSICALLY feel. She connects it with both what she felt with him that night on the beach, and what she HOPES to feel with him upon his return. (And what she misses when he is "lost" to her.) I feel around for the parachute and slide my fingers inside until they close around the pearl. I sit back on my bed cross-legged and find myself rubbing the smooth iridescent surface of the pearl back and forth against my lips. For some reason, it's soothing. A cool kiss from the giver himself. I take the pearl from where it lives in my pocket and try to remember the boy with the bread, the strong arms that warded off nightmares on the train, the kisses in the arena. To make myself put a name to the thing I've lost. But what's the use? It's gone. He's gone. Whatever existed between us is gone.
all I'm saying is that Peeta would literally pass out if he ever hears about how she basically kept rubbing one out in 13 to thoughts of him. (Because, let's be real. That's what the symbolism of the pearl was.) Rolling the pearl between her fingers? Kissing it to her lips? COME ON. It's so on the nose. (Or clit in this case.) 🦪😏
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hecateslore · 1 month
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💌
supervisor!simon
You lied down, cooling off from all of the random shit you were doing, so rearranging your living room, dusting things, potting plants, playing with the stray that is always outside eating its food.
You get a notification on your phone, you look to read and It’s from johnny. 
“What the fuck?”  
“You busy?” the text message read, You sure weren’t!
You get up and stroll, You think about your response standing in the middle of your kitchen. “Uh no? Lol” You send the message and proceed to set your phone on the kitchen counter. But before you do, Johnny’s caller ID pops up on your screen. 
You let out a groan, you hated when people did that. “Hello,” you answer it, sounding as cheery as you can. “Hey,” he says and you say hey back. 
“What’s up?” you ask, itching your head out of confusion,”Just wanted to call.” You can hear him shrugging on the other end of the phone. “Well that’s nice of you,” You state, it comes out more like a question. “Can I ask why?” 
“I was thinking about our conversation earlier,” he says, you bite your lip in thought, “What about the conversation?” 
It was pretty straightforward, one day you and simon couldn’t stand each other, johnny gets hired, he flirts with you here and there, he makes weird jokes about how weird simon is, takes you on a date, that is a date but it’s not a date, so he wants you to have redo. Sounds as straightforward as it gets. 
“You liked me then ?” Johnny says on the other line, You let out a huff, “I did.” admitting it out loud made your chest hurt. It sounded bad to say. “Is he there?” He asks, “No,” You say, and look around your apartment. Johnny sucks in a breath, “You okay?” you ask in return, “I’m alright,” he says. “Can I ask why you’re calling?” You shift on your right leg, “I really don’t know.” he chuckles. “Okay,” you let out a breathy laugh, “The dinner meant a lot to me if that’s what you want to know.” you share. Johnny lets out a breath. “I did want to know.” He answers, “I know you did,” you state. 
“Simon really does it for you,” he chuckles again, “Maybe,” You think about Simon for a second, and remember the text message you sent, you pull your phone away from your face and scroll to your messages, the text saying delivered under its green hue. 
You put the phone back to your ear, “He’s a good guy, It just was a misunderstanding on both parts.” You inform him. “A misunderstanding.” He repeats, “Never thought about it that way.”
“I didn’t either,” you exhale, grabbing a glass from your cupboard. “Seems like he treats you well?” 
Even though you two weren’t together and there was a very big chance that You and Johnny wouldn’t ever be together, From the day you saw him standing next to johnny. Simon's presence just loomed over you. The need to be around him all the time sometimes engulfs you. He's so caring and attentive and he listens most of the time. Of course you were sick in love, stressing when he wouldn’t talk to you, it’s like putting you under a spell.   “Hey, I’m gonna call you back,” You announce, “That’s alright.” he assures you, “Talk to you soon?” 
“Yeah, sure.” You hang up. Still no response from Simon. You text him again asking if he was okay, or if he needed anything. 
And on your end, still no response. 
-
The whole weekend you and Simon barely spoke, you’d send a message and he’d read it 6 or 7 hours later. You played phone tag with him, hoping to catch him at some point but eventually you turned yourself in and went to sleep waiting for a response. 
Monday you walk into the office, Simon in a random chair rolling around. Joking with Victor, who’s all of a sudden very funny. You ignore everyone’s good morning’s and hello’s. You bolt past him and head to the break room and see a very cheery Johnny chatting Linda up. 
“And she’s just the cutest you’d love her,” Linda says while showing him her phone. A cute girl on her screen, You fill up your water bottle and roll your eyes, walking past them without saying excuse me.“What’s the matter?” he creeps up behind you, massaging your shoulders, You squirm away from him. “You okay?” he asks, “I’m fine.” You mumble. “You Sure,” he prods, trying to be funny, “I kinda just want to be alone .” You look at him, he backs off, and goes back to whatever he’s doing. 
The day went exactly like that, Simon not paying attention, Johnny being a kiss ass, both of the men making your ass itch, profusely (there was no other way to describe it, sorry!). You packed up your stuff quickly, making a quick exit. Ignoring Simon's attempts at getting your attention. You get i
When you unlock the door, you can see your reflection in the sliding glass door. You look exhausted. You drop your bag on the floor, and take your clothes off and get in the shower, once you get out, you open the clock app, and check the time from back home. You slide into bed and get comfortable, your legs and arms feeling a bit heavy from today's emotions. 
You go to your contacts, and click on your moms, It rang and then it stopped, your moms voice on the other end, “Hello?” She answers just like you, “Hi mom,” you breathe, holding back your tears, “Hey babY!’ She says overly excited, a small sad smile forming on your face, “Hi Mom,” your voice breaks, “What’s the matter?” she says picking up on the tone of your voice. “It’s nothing,” you sniffle, “Where’s dad?” you ask immediately, “where he’s always at.” She chuckles, “You know I was just talking about you today?” 
“Oh god,” you chuckle nervously, “All good things I hope.” You cross your fingers, “I’m not that much of a gossiper,” she giggles. You smile at the smile of her laughter, missing waking up in your childhood bedroom, watching your parents in the kitchen and your siblings running around and terrorizing each other. You get another call, cutting your mothers sentence in half, “Hold on mom, someone else is calling,” You announce pulling the phone from your face. 
Simon’s contact on your screen, You let out a sigh and you can hear your mom’s “oh lord.” from the phone's speaker, “Mom, I’m gonna call you back okay?” You say, “That’s fine, I gotta get to bed anyway,” She shares, “I’ll call you tomorrow?” You ask, “Sounds good.”  
“Bye mom, I love you.” You tell her, “I love you too.” She says before clicking off the call. 
You call Simon back. “Hey,” his deep voice answers. “hi.” you answer back, “What was going on today?” He says, worried. You let out a big sigh, “I don’t know.” Irritation in your voice. “You sound mad,” He chuckles, “I’m not.” you mumble. 
You weren’t mad, just disappointed, not that you didn’t run errands with him or that he didn’t text you all day, or that he didn’t care that you missed him or also because he didn’t check on you. But because you know the lengths you would go, to just be near him. Which was embarrassing on your end. 
“You sound pissed,” He bothers and you roll your eyes. “Is this what you called for?” You snap. “Partially, but I called to see if I could come over.” He states. “It’s whatever.” you mumble before clicking off the call. 
Simon immediately calls back, you let out a loud grunt, “So is that a yes or a no?” He asks, “It means whatever, come if you want, don’t if you don’t.” You press the glowing red button again, Shutting your phone off. Throwing it somewhere on the bed. 20 minutes later, you can hear Simon's loud police-like knocks. You groan and get out of bed. Making your way to the front door you shut off all the lights that were still from when you entered your apartment. 
When you open the door you see Simon in his gym clothes with a nice packed bag hanging off his shoulder. Immediately reaching to touch your forehead, You swat his hand away, “im fine” you move out of the doors way letting him in. He follows behind, taking note of the way your shoulders slump, your aura is off. 
“I’m gonna take a quick shower.” He announces, you nod, and slide back into your bed, waiting for him to get out of the bathroom. When he does he’s just in his underwear, you watch him walk towards your bed, his thick legs taking long strides towards you, finally, landing on the bed next to you. You’re both quiet, he wraps his arms around your waist. 
“Can I ask something,” He says hesitantly, “what?” you yawn, “When was the last time you got your period?” You pull away from him, “Why?” you ask concerned, “just answer the question,” 
“Let me check my phone,” You search for it frantically, this couldn’t be right. it won’t be. Simon searches also, finding it in the sheets he then hands it to you, “Here,” he says softly, watching you intently. 
You scroll on your screen going to your tracking app, “when was the last time we had sex?” You ask, scrolling up and down the calendars logged with red drops. “Like a week ago.” You let out a weird noise, something between a groan and whimper. Anxiety hits your stomach immediately. You scroll down, and as if life couldn’t have a more sick game in mind, the calendar for last month wasn’t logged. 
No red drops, no symptoms. You’re quiet, and Simon grabs the phone from your hands, He scrolls up and down, “What does this mean?” He asks, still scrolling. “I didn’t log my period,” you answer, Simon sucks in a breath, rubbing his hand over his face, “When did we first start?” 
“Like over a month ago, I don’t know,” You say frustrated, “Don’t get frustrated,” He starts, “I’m not,” you snap again, “I’m thinking,” You huff. “My cycle probably changed or something,” You try and soothe yourself. 
Maybe that could explain the weird behavior, the need to be around him, how sleepy and snappy you are. The headaches, the irritation. No. It doesn’t. 
You sit with your legs crossed, “This is just fucking great.” You huff. 
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nebulablakemurphy · 3 months
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Moves & Countermoves (Part 24)
Part 23
Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing.
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“Lean your head back, so I can rinse.” Y/N instructs Katniss, gently.
It’s been two weeks back in twelve. The Abernathy family, Katniss, Cashmere and Johanna. Peeta had to stay behind, not quite ready to be exposed to all the potential triggers of home.
Cashmere and Madge had no problem cozying up in the Abernathy home. However Katniss keeps to her own house in Victor’s Village and Johanna has agreed to stay in the house gifted to Y/N after her win. Finnick and Annie will visit too, of course. After the baby.
The girl on fire sits in the tub, knees pulled up to her chest, with both arms around them, as her former mentor washes her hair. Katniss can’t bring herself to do much these days. Rotting away on the couch, after Prim… But Y/N is nothing if not stubborn and loves Katniss more than her own mother ever could.
When Y/N is finished, she leaves Katniss to dry off. “I’ll bring you something to eat.”
Katniss blinks at her, nodding. She does not speak.
Y/N returns to her own home, bustling with life. Nothing here is still. The victor dances past her oldest daughter, twirling about the living room to music. Moving carefully behind the house of cards that Everest and Cashmere are building on the dining table and into the kitchen.
Haymitch follows her there, Daisy in his arms. He hardly puts her down. “How is she?” Katniss.
Y/N sucks in a breath. “You should go see her, Haymitch. Maybe she’ll talk to you.”
“What makes you think she’ll talk to me?”
“Because you understand each other.” Y/N says, “I love her, she knows I do. But it’s not the same. She needs you.”
“And if you’re wrong?” Haymitch frowns, “if it sets her off? Makes it worse?”
“The last thing Katniss needs right now, is to feel like another person has abandoned her.” Like her mother. Like Gale. “Especially you. You don’t have to say anything, just be there.” Y/N wrings her hands, anxiously. “Please.”
Haymitch shakes his head, bouncing between feet, when Daisy begins to fuss. “The things I do for you.”
Y/N half smiles, “gimme the baby.”
At this he hesitates. It is hard enough being in a separate room from his children. Or not to holler in protest, each time Y/N moves out of his sight.
“Haymitch?” Y/N rests a hand against his back.
It’s not you, it’s me. “Here.” He forces a smile, passing off their child.
“Haymitch, what’s wrong?” Y/N wonders, adjusting the infant in her arms.
“Nothing.” He clears his throat, “it’s nothing.”
“But-”
“I love you.” Haymitch tells his wife, pecking a kiss to her lips, “nothing’s wrong.”
Y/N pulls back, slightly, studying him. “I love you too.”
He pats her cheek, in parting. Hurrying out the door, before Y/N can get a word in.
“You guys are disgusting.” Johanna remarks, leaning heavily against the refrigerator.
Y/N murmurs. “Yeah.”
“I’m out of eggs.” Johanna adds, to explain her presence.
“We have plenty. Help yourself.” Y/N waves toward the fridge.
“There’s something wrong with him.”
“I know.”
“What are you gonna do about it? You’re Mrs. Fix It. That’s why we’re all here. So you can fix us.” Johanna scoffs, “you can’t even fix yourself.”
“I can,” Y/N cuts her off. “I will.”
“You think I haven’t noticed there’s a room you can’t even go in?” Johanna continues.
“It’s not what you think.”
“I think you’re afraid of old hunks of metal that used to record you getting your rocks off.” Johanna crosses both arms over her chest. “They can’t hurt you.”
“They can hurt me.” Y/N purses her lips, “they did.”
“You should get rid of them.” Johanna suggests.
“I can’t.” I just can’t.
“My head doctor would call it ‘exposure therapy.’”
“Will you help me?”
Johanna huffs a laugh. “What are friends for?”
————————————————————————
That night, after the children are fast asleep, Y/N tosses and turns in bed.
“Just say it.” Haymitch snaps.
“It’s nothing.” Y/N whispers, “I’m sorry.” She turns away from Haymitch, nuzzling her back against his chest, until he has no choice but to wrap his arms around her.
“Angel,” Haymitch pauses, trying to find the right words. “I’ve never done this before.”
“Done what?”
“Been free.” Haymitch confesses, “not since the games, never as an adult. Never as a husband or a father; and I am terrified that at any moment, all of this is going to be taken away from me.”
Y/N squeezes his hand, a bit tighter. “Sometimes I think that too.” We’ve been playing the game too long. “Do you think we’ll get used to it? Being free?”
Haymitch sighs, pressing his lips to her shoulder. “I hope so, angel.”
This is new. Haymitch having hope. “Me too.”
————————————————————————
Nights bleed into days. Days into weeks.
Daisy naps contently, in the sling against Y/N’s chest, while she tidies the kitchen.
Everest and Haymitch have set out to pluck weeds from the pathway between houses of Victor’s Village.
Arista is playing in the backyard.
The birds chirp.
The sun shines.
Then Arista screams. “Mommy!”
Y/N abandons the pan she is washing, into the sink, water still running, as she races toward the sound of her daughter’s voice. “Arista!”
“Mommy! Daddy! Hurry!”
Haymitch and Everest rush toward her cry. “Arista!”
Y/N finds her first, at the far edge of their yard, hunched over a mass of white feathers. “Arista? Are you ok?”
“He came back.” Arista tells her mother, with overjoyed tears in her eyes. “Louie came back.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Y/N chokes down the panic that has risen in her throat. “That’s wonderful.”
Everest comes to a stop beside his mother, panting as he takes in the scene before him. “She’s ok?”
“Yeah,” Y/N reaches a hand over, to ruffle his hair. “We’re all ok now.”
Haymitch joins them last, out of breath, face flushed. “Is everything-”
Y/N turns to him, with a grin. “Louie came home.”
“It’s just the goose.” Haymitch can’t help but laugh. “Just the god damn goose.”
————————————————————————
That night, at dinner, with Madge, Cashmere, Johanna and even Katniss, the phone rings. The sound of it still jarring, after being without a form of easy communication between districts for so long.
Maybe it’s Annie and Finnick.
Maybe there is news in the Capitol.
Maybe Effie.
“I’ll get it.” Johanna volunteers.
Y/N holds up a hand, not wanting to speak with a mouthful of food.
“Or not.”
“I’ve got it.” Y/N excuses herself from the table, into the hallway. Lifting the phone from the receiver to her ear; heart pounding. “Hello.”
“Y/N, it’s me.”
Her free hand comes up to her heart, attempting to quiet the ache. “Peeta, hi. How are you?”
“Better, I’m good.”
“That’s good, honey.” Y/N blinks back tears. “That’s so good to hear.”
“Dr. Aurelius says I’m free to leave the hospital, as long as I keep up with sessions over the phone.” He sounds nervous, like the other shoe is about to drop.
Maybe he’s staying with Effie in the Capitol.
“The train leaves tomorrow morning.”
“Can I- I’ll come get you from the train station?”
“Yes.” Peeta says, immediately. “That would be great.”
“Ok,” Y/N breathes, “that’s perfect. I’ll see you soon.”
“See you soon.”
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dittanyinbloom · 1 year
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Hand Written
The final part to Note Taking and Study Habits
Ominis x fem!MC, fluff, kissing, it is just kissing but I wouldn’t say it’s safe to read at work
This is all so self indulgent but idc I write for my own entertainment first and foremost
.✉️🦉❄️
Over the weekend, you ran into a bit of trouble. Your first trip to Hogsmeade with Natty had famously resulted in a troll battle, but most people didn’t know that the journey hadn’t ended there. During a well-deserved butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks, you were confronted by Victor Rookwood and Theophilus Harlow. One thing led to another, and now as of late, you and Natty found yourself acting as protectors of the Highlands. Whenever one of you heard of Ashwinders causing mayhem, the two of you would team up and hunt them down. This time, you may have bit off more than you could chew.
The wizards you fought against that weekend had been poachers. Not only that, but Theophilus Harlow himself had shown to the battle. By then, you had already taken a few curses and had long since exhausted your supply of Wiggenweld potion. Lucky for you, they had captured two hippogriffs, one of them being Poppy Sweeting’s friend Highwing. The killing curse was thrown, but thanks to the hippogriffs, you and Natty had made it out, narrowly.
The next morning, the two of you had joined Poppy for breakfast to ask what should be done about the two fully grown hippogriffs in your nab-sack.
“Well, I would say to release them back to their home, but with all the poachers still running about. . .” Poppy sighed heavily. Scotland wasn’t safe for any beast at the moment.
“There is somewhere I could take them,” you offered hesitantly, “I didn’t want to take Highwing there without your approval since the two of you are so close. But I can show you, both of you.” You smiled at Natty. “It’s quite extraordinary, actually. I’ve been waiting for the right time to share it with people.”
Natty returned your smile. “You have me intrigued.”
Poppy’s eyes lit up. “Is it close enough for us to go after classes today?”
“Why wait until after classes?” Then you were standing from your seat in the Great Hall to lead the girls out. Overhead, the owls had arrived to deliver the morning mail. A letter was dropped on the table for you, and you placed it directly in your robes for later. Most of the mail you received was from people asking for favors or updating you on ongoing quests they’d assigned you. Whatever it was could wait for now.
The girls followed you out of the Great Hall, giggling and unable to contain their excitement for whatever Hogwarts mystery you were about to show them.
Sharing the Room of Requirement with others re-sparked your excitement for the space. The three of you rushed in nearly late to Charms. You snatched food from the Great Hall during lunch just to run back to the Astronomy tower. Poppy took to the skies of the vivarium. Natty had fallen asleep on your couch cuddling a puffskin. You debated dozing off as well, exhausted from the weekend, but you stayed vigilant and watched over the time to know when you would have to drag the other girls to DADA.
“That. . was. . brilliant!” Poppy had an arm hooked around one of both yours and Natty’s elbows. Her balance was still off from the flight.
“Now that the two of you know it’s there, I think you should be able to find it yourselves. I’m not in the castle much these days, so the beasts would love your company.”
Natty brightened at the invitation. “I’m looking forward to exploring as my animagus form when I am better rested. Galloping around was not in the stars for today.”
“That puffskin took quite the liking to you,” you teased.
“I had an inkling you would be good with beasts, Natty,” Poppy commented, “You have a warm soul. The creatures see that.”
After classes, the three of you were yet again exploring the room. Free from needing to keep track of time, you planted yourself on the couch for a well-deserved rest. As you turned on your side, a curious crunching sounded from under you. You frowned as you sat up, digging through your robes for the parchment preventing you from sleep.
The letter from that morning! Might as well open it now and find out what sort of predicament you would be spending the rest of your weeknights solving.
What caught your eye first was how meticulously the words were placed. There were perfectly even indentations on both sides. The spacing was exact, and the lines, while ever so slightly up and to the left, were even in height. Someone had planned out what they were going to say to you. This was rare among the desperate scribbles of your usual quests. Even professors who wrote to you about assignments were flippant with their quill strokes, far too busy to even attempt legibility for a mere student.
Y/N
I fear apologies are in order. Sebastian insists you’ve been distant this weekend because of my actions. Offending you was not my intentions. The touches were merely a way to express that I share the same sentiment. I think of you often. In fact, I have not been able to think of much else since you started taking my name. If I’ve misinterpreted your feelings, please meet me today after classes in the Undercroft. You are owed a proper apology face to face.
If you happen to feel the same, you know where I’ll be.
Yours Truly,
Ominis
You stood from the couch so fast the room was spinning. By now, he must have assumed you weren’t going to show. How awful he must feel to think you didn’t care enough about his letter to even address it.
“Deek!” You called out, wildly looking around the room for him.
He had popped up out of nowhere, startling you. “Yes, Miss?”
Pressing the letter against your chest in shock while trying to collect yourself, you uttered, “Would you be so kind as to let the girls know I had to leave, but they are welcome to stay for as long as they’d like?”
“Of course, Miss. is everything all right?”
“Yes, for once, I’ve received a letter with good news, but I must meet with the sender right away.”
“Deek will make sure your friends are well taken care of in your absence.”
“Thank you!”
By the time you arrived at the entrance of the Undercroft, you were out of breath and only panicking worse. What if he had already given up? What if he was angry? What if your late arrival changed how he felt? You stomped down the stairs as quick as your thick boots would allow and ducked under the metal grate since it wasn’t rising fast enough.
Finding yourself inside the echoey room was like being doused in the icy waters of the sea. All the adrenaline that had been fueling your sprint over had dwindled, leaving only trepidation in its wake.
“Ominis?” You called out, hating how loud your voice seemed against the dead silence of the room. Nothing stirred. Nothing moved. You couldn’t even hear the faint sound of his breathing. You were alone.
“Ergh!” You let out through your teeth. How could you be so careless? Why couldn’t you have read the letter at any other point in the day? “Confringo!” You cast at a hanging candelabra. It swung violently from the momentum of your spell. The next victim was a tower of boxes. One by one exploding into bits, “Bombarda! Diffindo! Depulso!”
You turned on your heel, aiming at the desk in the corner that was rarely ever used for school-related revision. “Flipendo!” The contents crashed to the floor: a vase shattering, candles snapping in half, tomes scattering about. Still, the chaos didn’t feel like enough. You stormed over to the wreckage and kicked the now very sideways desk for good measure. Apparently, your steel-toe boots were a little worn down from all your adventures because you felt the impact jolt up even past your shin.
With absolutely no balance, you plummeted to the floor with a wince, grabbing at your foot in agony. “Mother of Merlin! So stupid!” You had fallen into the debris. Now that you were coming down from the rage, you frowned at the mess around you. Meekly, you uttered, “Reparo,” at the stack of boxes you’d destroyed.
Pushing yourself off the ground, you aimed at the desk next. In the blink of an eye, everything was in it’s rightful place. Even the tiny shard of glass in your palm had rejoined the vase.
You sat at the desk, exhausted from your meltdown. Your left hand landed on a folded piece of parchment. The only person who ever worked at this desk was Sebastian when he was reading something he wasn’t supposed to. Curious as to what kind of notes he was taking, you unfolded the paper to find the diligent penmanship from Ominis’s letter.
Y/N
We have to leave in a hurry. Anne is feeling too ill to walk, but Solomon is traveling in Egypt. He is meeting with old friends from the Ministry, Curse Breakers. Anne needs someone to look after her for a few days, and Sebastian didn’t want to go alone. He shouldn’t have to be alone, not at a time like this.
I hope this message finds you well.
Yours Truly,
Ominis
Oh, what a fool you had been. You looked up at the arching ceiling and let out a laugh of disbelief. While you were having a tissy fit about being late, Anne was suffering. Merlin, how idiotic you felt.
Ignorant, as Sebastian would so kindly say. And this time, he’d have been right.
If Solomon was away, you might have just the thing to lift the spirits in Feldcroft. All you needed was a quick trip to the Room of Requirement, and you could be on your way by curfew.
It was far too late to be knocking on someone’s door, but there you stood in the entryway in the dead of night. The air was bitter and unforgiving. The nights were always chilly this close to the sea, but this year's winter seemed to be never-ending. The moment you appeared at the floo station in the middle of town, you debated sending yourself right back to the warmth of your common room.
The front door swung open to reveal a familiar wand pointed at your face. Sebastian, looking rough from sleep, mustered up the deadliest glare he could and opened his mouth to spew out a threat. His scowl brightened to a brilliant smile, recognizing you were no foe.
“Well if it isn’t the subject of the hour herself!” He stepped aside, ushering you into the small home so he could shut out the harsh weather. “You had us thinking Ashwinders were looking for a fight.”
“Assuming they would knock,” Anne added as she sat up in her bed.
“Sorry to frighten you, and wake you. ., but with Solomon gone I thought these might be of use.” You pulled a bag of freshly picked shrivelfigs from your enchanted satchel. Ever since your first trip to Feldcroft, you had been growing them. The broken look on Sebastian’s face, when his uncle had ruined the one he had bought for Anne, was etched in your soul.
“Have I told you lately that I love you?” Sebastian mused as you handed him the fruit.
“I don’t think you’ve ever admitted you love me.”
“Hmm, very well. I’ll add it to my to-do list.”
“I look forward to it, Sallow.”
“Don’t hold your breath, Gaunt.”
“Hey now,” Anne chastised, “Did we not just discuss that at great length?
Sebastian rolled his eyes then turned to you, “I’m very sorry. Does the name make you uncomfortable?”
“No,” you admitted, braving a glance at Ominis who was sitting at the head of Sebastian’s bed. You nearly gasped at his appearance.
When Sebastian had answered the door, you didn’t take a second glance at his apparel. But seeing Ominis out of school robes was always a treat. Even those few times you had, he would still be sporting his uniform vest and button-down. Now he was wearing a long sleeve thermal that seemed too loose in every area it was meant to be tight for warmth. It was likely one of Solomon’s since the boys had to leave on the spot without having time to pack.
Ominis looked terribly endearing swimming in the giant shirt with blankets looking at his hips. His hair was still somehow in place despite the fact that they had clearly already been lying down before you came in. The space in the bed next to him was disheveled from Sebastian jumping out of bed to answer the door.
“Told you she likes him!” Anne proclaimed, talking with Sebastian as if you and Ominis weren’t in the room. Though, in her defense, with the way you were looking Ominis up and down, it may as well have been Anne and Sebastian that weren’t in the room.
“Then explain the cold shoulder!”
“She was probably busy being her usual self. You do remember her having ancient magic abilities to discover, don’t you?”
“That doesn’t explain not showing up to the Undercroft.” Sebastian refused to back down from the argument.
“But she’s here now, isn’t she?” Anne reached a hand out to you. “Come, Y/N. You can sleep with me. It’s late, and we should all be resting.”
Sebastian put his hands on his hips. “Don’t you think the married couple should-“
“Sebastian!” Ominis chastised. “Enough before I hex you. Get back to bed.”
You were timid to join Anne in the tiny bed. The old wood creaked in protest from your weight. She was quick to cover you in her warm blankets. Only then did you realize how badly you had been shivering from the cold. Anne’s head unabashedly laid on your shoulder as she hummed.
“This is lovely. Sebastian has refused to sleep in the same bed as me since we started school. We used to cuddle every night.”
Across the room, Sebastian seemed to groan in agony, “Anne, quit telling people that.”
Anne went on defiantly, “He used to be so sweet to me, but he drools in his sleep.”
You giggled. “Why am I not surprised? He drools a bit in his waking hours as well. Especially in Miss Garlick’s class.”
“Hmm, wonder why that is?”
From the boys’ side, a light slap rang out, followed by the sound of a wand clattering to the floor.
“Don’t hex them!” Ominis whispered.
“Just a silencing charm!” Sebastian said defensively.
The bed was empty when you woke up. Anne had not traveled far in their tiny abode. She was relaxing with tea at the dining table. Her plush armchair stood out between the other bare, wooden dining chairs. Ominis was awake and tending to the kettle. Sebastian was snoring. A dark spot had formed by his mouth on the pillow. You bit your cheek to prevent yourself from laughing.
Lovely blackmail material for later.
“Good morning,” Ominis said, holding out a steaming mug to you. His voice startled Anne who hadn’t even noticed you had woken up.
“Thank you.” From the smell alone, you could tell he put the perfect amount of sugar. You nearly melted into the cup yourself. What you would give to wake up every morning to Ominis. . . His hair had finally given in and fallen ever so slightly out of place due to not having its usual routine. He felt the wisps on his forehead and frowned, raising his hand to move them. You reached out, grabbing his wrist. “Leave it.”
He went from pink to red alarmingly fast. You sipped your tea and caught Anne’s watchful eye. She was smiling, despite her words, “I’m starting to pity Sebastian. He was right. This is disgusting to witness.”
Deciding it was your turn for a bit of fun, you teased, “Yes well, you and Sebastian might as well get used to it. Marriages do tend to last a while, the good ones, anyway.”
Adoring the opportunity to join in on the mischief, Anne added, “I guess so. Ominis is one of the good ones.”
“Precisely.”
Ominis had his own notes to go over on that very topic. He grabbed his coat from the hanger, shrugging it on as he asked, “Y/N, would you care to join me for a morning stroll? I thought we could pick something up from the vendor. He usually has bread ready by now, and this place is due for some more fresh food to go with those shrivelfigs. Maybe a few eggs for breakfast as well. .”
“I would love to.” You mimicked his movements to grab your coat, but he had picked it up first to hold it up for you. You couldn’t help but nervously glance at Anne who seemed very amused at the whole show behind her cup of tea.
Just one arm and then the other. It wasn’t so bad, that is, until after when he put his hands on both your shoulders and smoothed out the fabric. When you turned to face him, he held out an elbow for you to hold.
“Oh,” you murmured under your breath.
Timidly, you accepted his guide, but Ominis stayed frozen in the foyer for a second longer to ask, “I’m sorry, I’ve done it again, haven’t I? Is this arrangement all right with you?” He nodded toward where your hand was shamelessly finding its place on his arm.
“Yes, of course. You lead. I have no idea where we are going,” you assured him.
“It’s rare people ask me to lead them places,” Ominis was attempting a jovial tone, perhaps to put your budding nerves at ease.
It didn’t help much due to your mouth spewing words without a thought, “I’d follow you anywhere.”
Now it was Ominis muttering a soft, “Oh,” while mulling over the depth of your words.
Anne slurped her tea inappropriately loud, causing the two of you to jump. You offered her a sheepish smile, a silent apology for forgetting that you and Ominis were not alone.
“I want a niece or nephew named after me,” Anne proclaimed. “It’s the least you could do to make up for this.”
Throwing a look of annoyance Anne’s way, Ominis was quick to fire back, “I think Sebastian has that cover-“
“Consider it done!” You promised the girl.
Ominis quickly recovered from his shocked appearance to ask, “Do I not have a say in the naming of our child?”
“Take a moment to consider the benefits. If it’s named after her, she’ll be guilted into babysitting. Would you rather have Sebastian looking after our child while we’re away? We’d come back to a demon baby.“
“Bold of you to assume Anne is any more responsible than Sebastian. She caused quite a myriad of trouble in our early years, more so than Sebastian. Do not let her fool you. Sebastian has yet to beat her detention record. Try as he might.”
Then you were whisked away on a proper tour of Feldcroft. Sebastian had previously shown you around, but those landmarks were more about the places they had fought Goblins or where Anne had been cursed. Ominis was naming off what houses belonged to which neighbors and listing who grew what each season. He spoke as if this hamlet were his home, but you were well aware the Gaunts resided in Northern England.
Perhaps Feldcroft was more of a home to him than that place ever would be. That would make sense. Sebastian and Anne seemed more like family to him than the true family he spoke ill of. It was a fine place to call home. Quaint and quiet. There was more variety in the cities or even villages like Hogsmeade, but the hustle and bustle of those places got old. Visiting Feldcroft with Sebastian had always been a guilty pleasure. Pleasure because you craved simplicity after all your adventures, but guilty for feeling so at peace while Sebastian and Anne were struggling.
With the sun breaking through some of the clouds, today would be warmer than yesterday. By the afternoon, most of the snow would likely melt away. Days like that were usually colder than the weeks of snow that preceded them. The wetness seeped into clothes and chilled to the bone. With all the fields surrounding the hamlet, you hoped the ground would soak up the moisture quick. Either that or the four of you would be inside for the entire duration of your stay.
A while into the walk, Ominis finally took out his wand to lead the both of you toward a hay bale big enough to sit. A cart of chomping cabbages rolled by. You tried not to shiver, knowing very well how deadly those things could be. Assuming you were cold, Ominis trailed a hand down your arm to find your own placed in your lap. He encapsulated your hands in his and brought them to his lips, blowing hot air to heat them deliciously.
You had to mentally remind yourself to breathe, not wanting to get called out as you were in the library. His actions heated you up in more way than one. Your face felt overwhelmingly warm, as well as other regions of your body you weren’t quite ready to acknowledge just yet. But in truth, you greatly appreciated the notion to warm you. You hadn’t been able to find a scarf before running off to Feldcroft, probably due to your supply being mostly piled in Ominis’ dorm room.
“We should actually buy the bread and eggs for breakfast, but I must admit the point of this walk was to get you alone.” He still had your hands hostage, holding them near his chest. They stayed there a beat longer before he finally let you have your freedom, which used to be a sensation you craved before you grew used to Ominis’ affections.
“I’m sorry if coming here was not appropriate,” you spewed out. “I hadn’t read the letter in time, or else I would have met with you before.”
“After how foolishly I acted, I would have understood if you didn’t show at all. If my second letter made you worry about Anne, I’m terribly sorry. I did not mean for you to follow us here, but I am glad you did. Is that selfish of me?”
“If wanting me around is selfish, then I wish you would be selfish more often.”
“I’m selfish all the time.”
You took that as an invitation to move closer on the makeshift bench. Now with your hip and shoulder flush against his own, you were practically forced to entangle your overlapping arms. “Ominis, I should tell you. . This weekend I had not meant to ignore you.”
“It was well deserved and to be expected, only natural after how uneasy I made you feel. Just because you drew hearts around my name doesn’t mean you would want my. . . advances.” Ominis visibly cringed at his own terminology.
“I do,” you blurted. Merlin, with all the marriage references, you may as well get out your wand and make an Unbreakable Vow at this point.
Ominis tilted his head. “What?”
“Sorry, I meant to say that it’s okay. You were right in assuming I wanted. . that.”
The heavy feeling in the boy’s chest seemed to lighten. He sighed in relief. “Oh, I felt horrible thinking I had made you uncomfortable in any sort of way.”
“Nervous, but not uncomfortable.”
He lifted his wand to let the red light take in the quiet hamlet. You stiffened, suddenly becoming hyper-aware of your surroundings. Loyalists and Ashwinders were still a heavy threat, especially in Feldcroft. For a moment you had let your guard down, and now you felt terrible for not keeping watch.
Oddly, not a soul was in sight. Even the livestock that often wandered about was either off in the snowy fields or no doubt huddled up in a barn somewhere. The morning was young, you could tell from how loud the birds were chirping. Most residents were still hunkered down in their homes except for a dedicated merchant setting up their cart near the well in the center of town. They weren’t quite near enough for Ominis to pick up their sound, though, his hearing could be even better than you already assumed.
You tucked yourself close to his side to whisper, “Did you hear something?”
He shook his head no, lowering his wand. “I only wanted to make sure we were alone.” The tip of his nose had gone pink from the cold. His cheeks were rosy, too, from being out in the morning breeze.
“It’s just us,” you reassured softly. “There’s a merchant setting up in the center of town, but they-“ A hand obstructed your view. Ominis was tentatively reaching out. The light brush of his index finger against your jaw is what cut off your train of thought. The others landed on your pulse, his thumb finding your chin. It glided up, moving across your lips that were still slightly parted from the words that got left behind.
“Don’t move,” he didn’t really need to tell you. The shock of it all was enough to turn you into a statue.
Then he was leaning in. His movements were slow but deliberate. His thumb left your lips only to be replaced by his mouth ghosting over yours. That’s where he stopped. You thought he was second-guessing himself, but then you could ever so slightly feel him break into a smile.
“I didn’t mean for you to stop breathing,” he teased. “Take a breath.”
You did, a pathetically weak one that is. But as soon as you took in air, Ominis closed the distance. His lips, though soft and gentle, weren’t hesitant in any way. He still held the side of your face, guiding you to him.
Your eyes had closed on instinct, so you had become lost in the sensation of him against you. His hand was the only thing grounding you until you reached for his jacket and tugged him closer. Only then did he take advantage of your parted lips to deepen the kiss. He let his other hand explore the side of your body, finding your hip and then running up and down the side of your thigh. You couldn’t help but shudder at the sensation.
Then, all too quickly, his lips were pulling away. You followed, chasing his movements, needing more. The hand cradling your jaw held you in place, letting him put his forehead to yours and chuckle.
“You want more, but you stopped moving.”
Had you stopped? You didn’t mean to. “You distracted me.”
He hummed in approval and squeezed your thigh just above your knee. The sound of your breath hitching was all the confirmation he needed. “You really like that, don’t you?”
Your grip on his jacket was se desperate that your hands were starting to ache. “Ominis, please. .”
“Do you even know what you are asking for, my dear? I think I should take you on a proper date before doing any of that. And perhaps, not in the center of town. .”
You immediately tucked your face in the crook of his neck, far too embarrassed to face the world after that. “I’m sorry.” Your breath on his neck made him go stiff. A mischievous thought crossed your mind, and you were acting on it before you could talk yourself out of it. You brought your lips to his neck, just below his jaw. His hand instinctively tightened around your thigh as he let out a gentle gasp.
“Oh,” was all he could say, now deeply understanding the intensity you felt whenever he would touch you. At first, you peppered kisses along his skin, but when you came across his pulse your self-restraint floated away. Feeling how quick it gave you the confidence to open your mouth wider, sucking his pale skin until it went red and warm. Trickles of electricity ran down his spine. He wanted to chastise you for being so lude in public, but he couldn’t form words. His body felt limp, completely compliant to whatever you chose to do. Then his own tongue betrayed him, “Right there.”
Eager to please, you focused all your attention on that spot. Your fingers tangled in the hair at the base of his neck and tugged slightly so that he’d grant you better access. Ominis didn’t give any resistance to your demand.
It was thrilling to know you could make him experience all the things he made you feel. You pushed his limits further by grazing your teeth against him. His hand shot up your thigh to your hip, the other landing on your other side. He pulled on you as if he wanted you closer, but any closer you’d be in his lap. Although that idea was beyond tempting, the sound of someone’s front door creaking open made you pull away from his neck.
The loss of contact made him frown. He quickly cupped your cheeks to pull you in for another kiss, but you put a hand against his chest, holding him at bay with a giggle.
“Later,” you promised, “-when we’re alone again.”
Ominis tilted his head in confusion. His eyes went wide when he heard the soft chatter of a neighboring couple exiting their home behind him. Quickly, he let you go and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I- I didn’t hear them come out.”
You left a brisk kiss on the little cluster of moles decorating his cheekbone before standing and tugging him along. “Come on. We still need to buy breakfast.”
By the time you made it back to the Sallow home, Sebastian was moaning about how starved he was. His eyes lit up when the door opened. Anne had told him the two of you had gone to collect bread and eggs. His excitement morphed into terror at the sight of his best friend in such disarray. In all the years he’s known Ominis, Sebastian had never seen his hair so wild.
“Are you okay? Were you attacked?” He squared Ominis’s shoulders and frowned at the red marks littering his neck. Anne giggling behind him made Sebastian piece together what he was seeing. His face twisted up in a look of disgust. “Oh, are you serious? In the middle of town?! Do I need to start escorting you two everywhere?”
“That’s hardly necessary,” you insisted at the same time Ominis admitted, “I don’t think that would stop her.”
“Give me that,” Sebastian growled as he took the basket of food from you. “Unbelievable, both of you. Go sit while I cook.”
“Let’s listen to Sebastian,” Ominis whispered with a smirk forming. Curious as to what he was planning, you let him guide you to the dining table. You’d expected him to pull out a chair for you, but he sat down first and then pulled you closer, patting his thigh. “Come on, he said to sit.”
Your heart was jumping haphazardly in your chest. You sat with your back pressed to his chest. His arms wasted no time snaking around your middle and pulling you close.
“Deplorable,” Sebastian muttered.
“No, it’s sweet. Quit acting like you’re so modest, and make my eggs,” Anne demanded. “I want my yolk runny.”
Sebastian sighed heavily, giving in, but only because his twin had ridiculed him. “Fine. And how would you like your eggs, Mr. and Mrs. Gaunt?”
“Whatever is easiest,” you offered.
“Preferably not poisoned,” Ominis suggested.
Y/N,
Feldcroft has been absolute mayhem while you've been away. I know this work trip is necessary, but I've never been shy to admit how selfish I am when it comes to you. If you are able to sneak away a few days early, let's not tell a soul. You can hide away in the house, and I could have you to myself just until others are expecting your return.
Speaking of others, I must warn you that your primroses have been trampled by Sebastian's son. I assume I don't even have to name which one was the culprit, but he has promised to help you replant them on your return. Sebastian would have done it with him, but somehow our dear friend managed to learn absolutely nothing during seven years of Herbology despite having such a watchful eye on our professor during classes. Perhaps you can bestow a bit of gardening knowledge on all his children that way they have hobbies that don't involve destroying our home when they visit.
Until then, I will miss the smell of the flowers almost as much as I miss you.
Your Husband,
Ominis
p.s. Please do consider my request that you return early. If not for me, then for the well-being of our home.
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tojivu · 5 months
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love, kisses & croissants ⋆ naoya zenin
an. naoya you've infiltrated my brain.... ib the song where the lyrics go "i love you i love you i love you"
cw. sfw. naoya is kind of an asshole. gn!reader, but not proofread so please lmk any gender references if i made any.
playing. because she goes by the 1975.
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naoya zenin would press kisses onto the soft, supple skin of your cheek as soon as he wakes. no good morning, no stretch — he reaches and bends from where he is to let his lips latch onto you.
two kisses later and he's finally greeting you, whether you're awake or not.
"morning." his voice is raspy, throat dry from the cold air of the bedroom you two shared. he brings his fingers to brush the stray hairs away from your face.
how naoya loves your expression when you sleep: an overwhelming need to hold and kiss you, make you feel as comfortable as possible so you can continue your slumber — how he finds you prettiest when you're unaware of it.
your eyelids flutter as the sunlight seeping in through the curtains sting; a long exhale leaves your lungs and you find yourself inching closer to naoya — who was warm amidst the temperature of the room.
he lays face up, shirt nowhere to be found (as usual). your husband was always one to show off even when sleeping — you're able to feel his skin graze your fingertips, some spots more prominent than others due to scarring: you've memorised the position of each and every one of them on his body.
"morning, naoya." you smile lazily at the man under your touch. he doesn't smile back, but you think the way his arm pulls you closer says everything his face doesn't.
naoya zenin was a puzzle, most days — it took you a long time before you could even touch him without earning a complaint or an irritated expression.
"stop touching me." a grunt and an eye roll, every single time.
it was the night after your wedding. you remember it vividly, the order of events engrained into your mind and heart. you never want to forget the hour that naoya let you love him.
it wasn't much, and you think if you told anyone that they might laugh in your face: most couples would scoff and say that the first kiss should have happened long before the knot was tied.
you think you would've gone the whole marriage without any touching. before the ceremony, naoya would only let you hold his hands or fix his tie — mundane things that held no passion — or maybe very little, not enough to remind you both you were to be married.
it was naoya who pulled you in that night, hands on your hips as he pressed his lips onto yours. it's inexperienced, and you want to giggle but you know you can't (due to the crowd and family attending the ceremony). it would be much too embarrassing for your husband.
when he pulls away, his lips are glossy and his eyes are enlarged — as if he's never experienced this feeling before.
it's just then that naoya zenin realises he loves kissing you. the feeling of your lips so close to his skin, the feeling of laying on clouds when he tastes your favourite lip balm. the feeling of you.
he felt embarrassed that his clan witnessed such a thing. naoya's weak in the knees in front of you, someone who was nowhere near his power or authority. he finds it annoying just how much control you have over him, but he thinks it's okay — for now — as long as you don't betray him.
he hopes you don't.
naoya doesn't bother saying a word in the morning, only kissing you where he feels you need to be — your forehead, wrist, cheek, lips, jaw, neck.
the small discovery he made on the night you two got married had his mornings set for life: a kiss as soon as he woke, a gentle 'morning' followed by another kiss. he's hooked.
sometimes he returns all bloodied from brawls: wounded but still the victor, dragging himself into the home he shares with you (and the servants he keeps around) — naoya appreciates your warm embrace and the soft kisses you pepper on his face. you complain about how he smells like metal, but you hold him anyway.
"[name]," naoya snaps you out of your reminiscing-like daydream. "we should go out for breakfast today."
you roll your eyes at the fact that this is what your husband stopped your trip down memory lane for.
"we have chefs for a reason, naoya." you remind him, as if he doesn't know that already — he orders them around almost all the time, mostly due to your random cravings.
"i know."
"then?" you ask, "i thought you hated being around random people."
"i don't like being around lowlives," he clarifies. "but we could spend some time together. if you want."
"if i want?" you giggle, poking at his cheeks. this would've gotten you killed if you were with the naoya you knew all those years ago. "i didn't know you cared about what i want."
"don't act like that." naoya's grip around your waist tightens, your stomach pressing against the side of his abdomen. "just say yes or no. i'm a very busy man."
"are you making space for me in your tight schedule, busy naoya?" you tease. his ears burn a bright shade of red, and he tuts. "i'm feeling really special. you're so good to me."
"cause you are," naoya admits. how vulnerable he seemed that it made him feel like throwing up. "[name]."
naoya zenin was a puzzle, yes, but you think he's gotten easier to solve by now. a kiss and some praise and he's all set, sarcastic or not — whatever you say has him weak in the knees. it's almost scary how much power you hold.
"i love you, my busy man," your hands cup his cheeks and turn his head towards you, and you press a quick kiss onto his lips. "i'm thinking about croissants."
you earn a flustered naoya, cheeks reddened and eyebrows furrowed to hide his crystal clear expression. he was starting to feel his heart pound.
"we can get croissants. i know a good place."
"it's probably expensive, then." you roll your eyes.
"who do you think i am?"
"my dearest husband." you flirt. it hurts to be so cheesy this early in the morning, but you think it's okay because it's got naoya blushing like a tomato.
he doesn't say anything. naoya is fighting the deafening sound of his heartbeat in his ears and the electricity he feels flowing through his veins, along with the smile creeping up on his face.
"i love you," he replies a minute later.
"i never knew you were a romantic, naoya."
"i love you," he repeats, as if you're losing your hearing. "i love you."
the words flow like water. it's a disgusting phrase he never thought he'd utter, but here he is — repeating it like a prayer to you.
"i heard you the first time." you giggle again, running your fingers through his hair. "loud and clear."
"i love you, [name]," he mumbles as his eyes get gentler by the second, his gaze softening the more you play with his locks. he thinks he'll fall back asleep any moment now. "i love you so much."
"i know, naoya," you assure him, head drawing closer to his to peck his forehead. "and i love you more."
"you can beat me in very little things, [name]." naoya replies, eyes blinking slowly at yours. "this isn't included."
"i beat you at wii that one time. you're terrible at wii golf."
"i play real golf," he scoffs. "not in some video game for children. it's harder in real life."
"such a sore loser."
you suppose you're a sore loser, too. you'd never be able to beat him at the 'i love you' game — he'd never let you — but that didn't mean you couldn't try.
you've got plenty of time, anyway.
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041223 — Bue i'm gonna cry this is so ?!??? idk what this even IS
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lokisgoodgirl · 1 year
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The Feast [Asgard!Loki x Fem.Reader]
A follow up one-shot to Hail, Commander A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: A filthy Commander Loki is ravenous post-battle. (w/c 1.7k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Oral (F), Salirophilia (dirty Loki) Exhibitionism. Language.
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The approaching drums were deafened by a low roar from Loki’s throat as he came undone. It was harsh. Ragged. It was fierce. The rush of hot breath flooded your ear, carrying the syllables of your name on wings of relief. His grip on the cape wrapped around you both loosened as he rocked you; held against the sharp drop of the balustrade safely in his arms.
“My love…” you whispered against his moist, dirt soaked brow, as Loki panted heavily into the curve of your neck. He hummed drowsily in response, hips continuing a gentle thrust to the beat of the victory procession hundreds of feet below. The heat of your lovemaking had warmed the primal scent clinging to his scalp, its tendrils winding their way deeper into your senses. The first time he had returned from battle, it had disgusted you. For a moment, at least. But now, your body only wanted more. It meant victory. It meant glory. It meant days of violently passionate fucking while he shook off the animalism and barbarity of war. You ran your fingers through his tangled hair, crusted and clumped with the stale filth of battle. The scent of blood and sweat and death clung to your fingertips, a tacky residue holding fast as you worked your digits to the back of his skull. Hail, the fallen; the lone chanter cried, hundreds of feet below. His voice was soulful and solemn, misting around the high towers like summer pollen. Hail, the shuffling crowd reprised in a haunting hymn. You didn’t know if it was the adrenaline bubbling down in your blood after Loki had thoroughly claimed you, but they sounded louder now. Or maybe it was just the wind. Loki’s grip tightened around your thighs, sliding upwards. His thumbs pressed into the crooks of your pelvis, pushing your legs wider. Without raising his head, he sank to his knees; war-ravaged leathers creaking as layers of festering dirt and grime cracked. His hands settled around the pristine skin of your thighs, marking them instantly.
“Loki…” you whispered warily, glancing up to the guards standing to attention, their gazes fixed in a thousand yard stare. Hail, the deliverer; the dark victor; the faceless voice sang, soulful reverence bouncing between golden turrets which glinted in the setting sun. Hail, Loki. Hail; the crowd chanted like a prayer in the depths below the balustrade. “Loki…” you murmured again, as trumpets blew a regal tremor alongside the eerie thump of ceremonial drums. “The guards…” The victorious god chuckled against your skin before he slid his cheekbone firmly up your thigh, a possessive harshness glinting in his eyes. “I am their commander. They will do as I say.” he growled coldly, his stare never leaving yours. A muscle in his jaw bobbed as he clenched, a ferocious haze descending over his features. He turned a stained cheek to the side, the marr of slaughter and destruction smeared messily where he had rubbed against your leg. He placed a wet kiss on your knee before he spoke. “Guards! About turn.” he roared.
Your gaze fluttered from your betrothed to the dozens of Einherjar standing to attention against the columns lining the balustrade. In perfect synchronicity, each one turned in a tight semi-circle to face the interior walls. They thumped the base of their spears against the stone in receipt of their order, the cold clunk of metal making a wave of arousal flip in your stomach. His presence. His power. You had almost forgotten. Almost.
Loki’s fingers resumed their iron grip around your thighs, sliding the hem of the dress gathered around your hips higher. “I trust this satisfies you…” he murmured, the brilliant blues of his irises startling against the shadows of brutal deeds layering his face. You thrust forward, aching to feel him against you; letting your hands wander over the buckles of his armour.
The leather felt ragged beneath your touch; burnt and battered. You could feel the tacky stick of warmed blood beneath your fingertips; the proof of his violent prowess. “We can wait...until...after the feast.” you panted half-heartedly, feeling his cracked lips graze against your freshly cum-soaked folds. Loki looked up from between your legs, the heroic commander on his knees ready to devour your glorious pussy. You could feel his seed pooling in thick drips on the stone below. His eyes were wide, brows slanted in mock innocence. “Oh, love…” he purred darkly, as his softness melted to a mischievous smirk. “But I haven’t eaten in days.” The prince’s nose nudged against your slit, making you groan shamelessly above him. “You know how ravenous I become after the rage of battle, love.” he purred, smirking against your hot, wet cunt. “You would not deny your Commander. Would you?”
You shook your head silently, fingers gripping the side of the cold stone balustrade. Loki inhaled deeply, letting it go with a shuddering sigh. Without another word, his warm tongue melted to your core; licking a flat stripe which made you jerk against his face. The filthy god’s fingers wrapped around your calves, pausing to hoist them over his shoulders. The grime-coated gold of his armoured epaulettes slid against your bare skin; the chill making you buck into his open mouth. Your back arched against the glittering lights of Asgard; darkening skies illuminated by the ethereal glow of thousands of candles held in homage by grateful citizens below. Were they praying to the god kneeling between your splayed thighs? You hoped they were. Loki’s tongue slid in messy kisses against your sex, searching every soft pleasure point as he sucked his sacred cum from your centre. Muffled moans of pleasure sounded against your heat, his unfettered enthusiasm loud and wet against the rock of your hips. The naked curve of your ass scratched against filth-soaked leather as the god suckled your clit, moving in rhythmic swirls that coated your womanhood in waves of unbearable pleasure. Your lover leant you backwards so you hovered at an angle off the edge of the balustrade. Gusts of warm dusk air skated over your bristling skin, melting into the dangerous thrill of his obsession. Hail, the victorious dead; the bellman called below, a resounding chorus following the settling of his words; echoing in the night. Hail. The call made your pussy clench, sweet juices beginning to spill against Loki’s lips. He groaned wistfully, tightening his grip around your thighs hanging against his shoulders. You wound your hands in his hair, feeling the familiar resistant tug of crusted sweat and dirt which covered every war-drenched inch of him.
Hail, our Benevolent Protector. Our God. Hail. Your gaze lingered between your legs, the sight of his unmistakeable dark curls bobbing against folds of silk as he dove further sending waves of bravado through your veins. “Did you think of this while you slit the enemies throats, my prince?” you gasped, feeling him nod slowly against the methodical slide of his tongue. “Did you b-burn their world... and their hope... take their lives, uhhh g-gods... just to feast on the pussy you c-crave?” you murmured, seeing a violent shiver roll over his broad shoulders as he moaned in response.
His nose slid into view as he leant back ever so slightly. He knew when you were watching. He always did.
Slowly, Loki licked from the pucker of your ass to your clit, the width of his tongue hovering against the swollen bundle as he lapped gently. The flat massaged the underside, every soft, soaked caress accompanied by a deep groan simmering in his throat. “Did you...f-fuck...miss the taste of me?” you whimpered, seeing him nod again with his brow creased in shameless adoration. The pressure of his talented mouth latched to your sex was incomparable; a light wind rustling against your shoulder-blades making it feel primordial. And perhaps it was. You caught a glimpse of your blackened inner thighs as he dipped lower, grime marks from the slide of his skin and the rub of his hair making you as filthy as he. The unspeakable paint of war coating his sharp cheeks and chin rubbed against your swollen sex, eagerly disappearing in messy slurps down the god’s throat as he lost himself between your spread thighs. Loki could feel you beginning to shake against him as you tried to control yourself, a smirk tugging at his dimples as he put on a show. Relishing you falling apart like foam on the shore beneath his tongue. If there was one thing Loki of Asgard loved more than public adulation, it was giving head. You let out a shameless moan as the low blow of trumpets sang beneath the balustrade, a fervent hum from the citizens now gathered in the square below accompanying the conclusion of the traditional victory prayers. Hail, Commander. the bellman roared; the final steps of his journey giving new gravitas to the most sacred chant. Hail, the crowd refrained. Their intensity rose like a wave of heat, wisping against the back of your hair as your head fell back.
“Do you w-want me to..uhhh-fuck, cum in your m-mouth, Commander?” you gasped between shaky breaths. A loud moan shuddered through you as Loki rumbled against your wet slit, a whine of need bubbling on his lips. You wound one hand through his blood-crusted hair, the other clutching tightly around the ledge of stone beneath your ass. A surge of power vibrated as you pressed the commander deeper into your pussy, his searching tongue curling inside your channel as you rocked against his face. How many women in the streets below would slay their own grandmother for what you had between your legs this very moment? And many men, too; you’d wager.
Loki’s grip tightened around your femurs as he smothered himself. He shook his smooth jaw slowly back and forth, teasing every aching inch of protracted pleasure from your approaching orgasm. He would be soaking. The dulled shine of his battle-leathers glinted in the torchlight, dark stains of brown and red and black sliding easily from his armour to your fresh, perfumed skin. Hail, our Victorious Commander; came the final forceful shout; as violently clear as though the man the voice belonged to was standing by your shoulder. Hail, Commander. Hail; the crowd roared in unison. There was a rapturous cheer as the drumbeats quickened, signalling the arrival of the procession to the main square of Asgard set below the balustrade. Loki’s tongue delved deeper against your cunt, his carefully timed laps burrowing against the source of your undoing. You bucked into him, his name a strangled cry in your throat as you tugged gently at tangled curls. Fingernails dragged down the leather of his overcoat, feeling a layer of enemy blood gathering beneath them. With a final twisted groan, you came over his waiting tongue. Hot arousal flooded his mouth, a welcoming sigh of pleasure sounding from the leader of Asgard's victorious forces as you rocked against his face. Loki could spend hours buried in your cunt; although tonight you suspected you would not be afforded that luxury. “Commander?” a low voice muttered nervously. Your eyes snapped up in alarm, seeing a young guard trembling to your side – facing away from the scene. Had he walked backwards towards the two of you? You thought he must have, if he valued his life. Loki was still lost in your heat, carefully gathering every drop of your cum with fastidiously gentle precision. Your fingers ran lovingly under his chin, cupping the angle of his jaw. His sex-drunk eyes rose to yours, stare hardening as he finally registered the unwelcome figure off to the side. “What?” he spat incredulously, not deigning to rise from where he was spread on his knees in full battle armour on the stone before you. The guard cleared his throat. “Majesty, I am bound to ask you to make your way to the feasting hall. The Allfather impatiently awaits your glorious return, Commander” Loki sighed. “Go.” he ordered bluntly, watching with growing amusement as the terrified guard hurried away without looking back. He lowered your legs from his shoulders, rising regally to his full height. Flickering lamplight illuminated his ghostly features, a glistening slick shimmering around his mouth and jaw revealing his familiar perfectly fair skin beneath the dirt. His lower face. It was the only part of him that was clean.
You closed your legs reluctantly, taking the hand of the victorious god and standing from your perch on the balustrade. The silk of your dress fell against your newly dirt-smeared legs, the folds of antique fabric stained with the same unspeakable remnants of battle as your lover. As your Commander. “It’s incredibly obvious that you have been busy on your return, my prince.” you smirked, biting your lip as you regarded his increasingly dishevelled state. If it were possible, he was even more of a mess than before. Loki chuckled, flicking his tangled hair as the new layer of saliva and cum settled against his war-worn features. “My love, it is us...” he purred, raising your hand and turning it over. He set a kiss down on the delicate underside of your wrist, the cracked sheet of grime covering his beautiful face doing nothing to hide the mirth playing beneath it. “They would not expect anything less.”
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A/N: Thank you @simplyholl for being absolutely feral the night she read Hail Commander and immediately hitting me up with this mental image. You're the best my lil smut-sugarplum, I hope I delivered on our vision! Tags @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @loopsisloops @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @123forgottherest @joyful-enchantress @sititran @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @michelleleewise @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @ravenwings73 @xorpsbane @filthyhiddles @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @astridstark13 @arch-venus25 @nine-leafclover @springdandelixn @smolvenger @fictional-hooman
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empire-if · 11 months
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DEMO (TBA)
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After rising to the top do you have what it takes to stay there? Do you even want to?
Hollywood; the crown jewel of California. An unconquerable entity that stands the test of time despite various setbacks. Rising to the top was a long and arduous journey but you have done just that.
Sitting upon your throne of broken promises and fanciful lies— all of them being gilded in gold. Leaving behind your past without a second glance back. Childish merriment was replaced with the flashing lights of cameras. Grass-stained jeans turning to designer clothes. You never wanted to go back to what you used to be.
That is until the pesky problems of death threats start to become an actual concern. To your team and the authorities at least.
Meaning you have to leave behind your mansion in the hills for your parents two bedroom house in Airedale, Maine.
How are you going to deal with your past and present clashing? And what will you do about someone wanting you dead?
Empire is Rated 18+ for explicit language, sexual themes, drug/alcohol use, questionable behavior, mentions of murder, and more.
♛ FEATURES ♛
Customizable MC: name, sexuality, gender, appearance, vices, your mansion, and more as things begin to crop up within the story.
Choose what type of Star you have been to the public-- have you been the media's darling or more of black sheep? With a smattering of vices that have helped you cope with the stress of Hollywood.
Have you done something so horrible that it warrants someone wanting you dead? Was your last performance truly that bad? Or is it something a bit closer to home?
Romance 1 of 5 options that will offer something unique. Will you fall for your old sweetheart again; did you ever stop loving them? Or will you fall for the pesky journalist that is coming just a little too close for comfort? Time will tell.
Will your empire, the one you’ve fought so hard for, crumble into dust? Or will you rise above it all?
♛ THE ROs ♛
Scott/Scarlett Frost ♛ He/Him or She/Her ♛ 29 ♛
Your high school sweetheart/ex-fiancé has since become a veterinarian in the small town of Airedale. Light blue eyes still shining with the same warmth as you remember. Though it was a gaze filled with understandable weariness.
Edward/Elizabeth Holland ♛ He/Him or She/Her ♛ 30 ♛
Your costar from your most recent film. Who also happens to be your current PR significant other. Unfortunately, that also means that they have to come with you to not completely ruin everything you both have been implementing. You just hope everything ends up working out all right.
Victor/Victoria Swann ♛ He/Him or She/Her ♛ 29 ♛
The bad kid turned Deputy Sheriff in the small town of Airedale. A sight that you weren’t expecting to see at all when returning. Nor were expecting the reaction you got from them when they finally saw you once again.
Carter Griffith ♛ He/Him or She/Her ♛ 28 ♛
An old family friend has come to town for your class reunion; because of course, your reunion has to be whenever you’re forced to come back. Sly remarks and amused smiles are still a common entity with Carter. You wouldn’t expect anything less from them though.
Taylor Brennan ♛ He/Him or She/Her ♛ 28 ♛
The journalist that’s getting a little too close for comfort but maybe that’s your own fault too. You just have to make sure that you don’t let anything too detrimental slip out. As bad press wouldn’t be the worst thing you’d have to worry about then.
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maggiecc · 5 months
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When the World Shifts (Finnick O’Dair x reader) Part 2
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Finnick O'Dair x reader
TW: It's about the Hunger Games, so murder, talks of death
You have been made shorter than Finnick, but it's not important. Do I include Y/N?
No Betas, we die like vikings.
Part 1, Part 2 (here), Part 3, Part 4: TBD
The day of the reaping came all too soon. The days leading to the reaping were filled with training, for Finnick, and you, as well as everyone taking shifts with Annie. If you were with her, Finnick trained with Mags, if Mags was with her you and Finnick trained, and if Finnick was with her, you and Mags trained. Annie had fallen back into many of her old patterns from the months after her games, if she did not have one of you to ground her she would start to scream and rip her hair out. You worried that when you and Finnick left, Annie would only have Mags but she will know where you are and you are unsure if Mags will be enough.
“Are you ready love?” Finnick pulls you from your thoughts. You take a breath in to steady yourself.
“Does it really matter?” You attempt to joke, but your words hold much truth. It doesn’t matter if you are ready, the reaping will occur and you will soon be on a train to the capitol, whether or not you like it.
The District 4 victors all gather together to walk over hand in hand. You walking next to eachother, Finnick, you, Annie, and Mags stepping onto the stage together. You looked at the bowls, the left had 3 pieces, and the right had 1; seeing them making it feel all the more real. 
The capitol representative who had drawn, Annie’s, Finnick’s, and your names walked up to the bowls. He began his long-winded speech from the capital all about the importance of the Hunger Games and how significant the quarter quell is. It was a summary of what Snow had said, and that speech was already burned into your brain. You start to disassociate from yourself, it had been so long since the last time time you had been at the reaping in person. 
After your victory, you tried to go to the reapings to meet the tributes after they were reaped to help comfort them, but it became too much. No matter how much you tried the tributes were outmatched by the careers. So over the years, you had to stop going, seeing the names pulled and looking at the faces of the children who were lambs to the slaughter became too much. Sometimes you still dream of those first few kids, 
Coral was only 14 when she was chosen, and had a smile that could light up a room. She made you a bracelet you still wear on your wrist, made of dried fish bones and odd-shaped shells. She went in with Moss, a soft-spoken 16-year-old. You grew up on the same road as him, his older brother even went to school with you. He did not have hope for himself but spent the game trying to protect Coral. They lost their game by a sneak attack while they slept, leaving you a wreck for weeks. The only comfort you had was they went fast, a mercy not many receive in the games. 
The next was Annie, and although she won the loss of her partner hurt you as badly as the first two you lost. Annie winning was both a blessing and a curse, it let you keep Annie but the next 2 years held hope which only made the pain hurt more. After losing 4 more tributes you eventually stopped going to the reapings. You wanted to be there to help the kids but the mental torment was simply too much. Finnick trained, them and Mags the group after, you returned to join the rotation knowing that it was hard for Finnick and Annie as well.
Your reminiscing was cut off by someone grabbing your hand. You turn to look a the source of the warmth and comfort. Finnick looked down at you and tried to give you a comforting smile. It was like he read your mind and knew what you were doing, and he was probably doing the same. You all knew not to get too attached but it was impossible to look a those young kids and not care.
“It will be alright, love” Finnick attempted to comfort you, but you could not even muster a response, only being able to squeeze his hand.
“We shall let the men go first,” The host announced, laughing as he pretended to search around the bowl, but there was only one name. You knew what the host was about to say but you still flinched upon hearing it. “Finnick O’Dair!” 
The host began to clap and District 4 reluctantly joined in, out of respect for their only male victor. Finnick gave the cameras a wave as he walks to the side for the next name to be called.
“Alright, now for the female tribute!” The host was loud and excited, so clearly capital. He saw this as some sort of game but the districts knew the truth. These were murders, children slaughtered for nothing, a war they weren’t alive for. “Our female tribute is . . . Annie Cresta!” Your heart sinks. Annie broke out in tears holding herself as she begins to weep. You knew what you were about to do, knew she wouldn’t enter the games but hearing her name still hurt her.
“I VOLUNTEER!” You scream tears starting to form. Mags begins to wrap Annie in her arms as you walk over to join Finnick. 
He wraps you in a hug and leans to whisper in your ear “We will make it out, I promise.” You nod your head and wipe your tears.
You move to stand side by side and grab Finnick's hand. You raise it high above your head for your District to see. All of District 4 began to cheer for their victors, turned back into tributes. They finally have a reason to have hope, both of you were survivors and maybe you could have a chance, that they would not have to watch more of their people be slaughtered for entertainment. You had the same hope, maybe you could make it out, maybe both of you could.
Once you were able to walk off the stage you run to where Annie and Mags stood. You wrap them up in your arms, and Finnick does the same holding all three of you. Your little family, the only people who truly understood you was being torn apart. Annie grabbed both you and Finnick, gripping your arms to the point her nails dug into your skin but you ignore it. She is still crying but not screaming anymore. She lets go of your arms and grabs your heads to put them to her. She was unable to speak but you understand what she is saying. Annie lets out a soft laugh and you know that she cannot control it.
“We will make it back to you, I promise,” Finnick tells her. You don’t know if she believes him, or if you do but she lets go of your heads. She grabs your hands to give you one last squeeze followed by Mags giving you both a soft touch to the cheek and a smile. 
The peacekeeper starts to head towards your group, a sign you had to leave. Their weapons stayed in their hands, not pointing towards you, but the threat was clear. You are leaving now.
“We’re coming you grunts,” Finnick told them as he turns to walk. You begin to join him but quickly turn your head around and mouth, I love you to the woman. Annie turns into Mags' arms as her weeping returns.
You turn to look up to Finnick, seeing him tensing upon hearing Annie’s cries but not being able to hug and comfort her. You grab his hand and squeeze it, making him look at you. “We got this. Mags will take care of her for when we come back.” you try to comfort him.
He gives you a soft smile that does not fully reach his eyes “Of course my love. They don’t stand a chance against us.”
You nod your head, then turn forward to walk, hand in hand with Finnick, knowing that whatever you are going to face you will at least be with him.
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until the morning comes {finnick odair}
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plot: it's the day before the 75th hunger games and you and finnick share one last night together.
character: finnick odair x reader
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His body is warm and comfortable, arms wrap around you tight and strong, he feels like home as you rest on him. Your eyes squeeze shut, trying to keep the tears at bay and trying to keep this memory forever. You have until the morning comes and then after that... who knows?
Tomorrow Finnick will be taken away to compete in another Hunger Games. Tomorrow will be different for it's victors of previous games that are competing. It's bullshit, you think, he went through hell and back and now they're making him do it again? Bullshit. You hate it. You hate them; Snow. Finnick does too but there's nothing the pair of you can do about it. It's got to happen and that's the end of it.
You should've ran away when you had the chance.
Finnick's eyes are trained on the ceiling as he tries to push the thoughts as far out of his head as possible. He has until the morning comes with you. It may be his last morning with you. The thought kicks him in the stomach, almost winding him, making him feel nauseous. The thought of going back into the arena terrifies him but even more so, it angers him. The rage burns strong and bright under his skin, coursing through his veins, a fire in his heart. How dare they do this to him again? How dare they make him compete again? After all that happened...
Your sniffing brings him back.
Wordlessly, he pulls you closer until your torsos are pressed together and your cheek is pressed to the crook of his neck. His hands rub your back, relishing in the way your skin feels beneath his nimble fingers. He wants to remember every single detail about you, every dimple, every freckle, every blemish; he wants to drink you in and keep your memory vivid and alive.
After all, he doesn't know if he'll come back to you.
No, he thinks, can't think like that.
He pulls you up, littering gentle kisses all over your face; your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, the corners of your mouth and then presses several soft kisses to your lips. He hates the sadness in your eyes, the tears that want to fall, the tremble in your lips. The pair of you stare deeply into the other's eyes, silently saying everything you want to.
I love you.
Be safe.
I'll do my best.
"You are the one thing that will keep me going," he whispers, the first words spoken in a few hours, "but please... no matter what happens, you have to carry on. No matter what they say about me, no matter what happens to me... you have to keep going."
All you can say is one word, "Please." It doesn't need an explanation, Finnick understands immediately.
Please stay alive. Please come home to me. Please don't die.
Finnick's eyes flood with tears and all he can do is nod. He pulls you down to him again as you both weep softly. Neither of you can believe that this is happening, that he's going again. Finnick's told you the horror of the 65th games and now, 10 years later, he's going to compete again.
For a while, you're silent again, the only sound being the ticking clock which hangs on the wall. You refuse to look at it, not wanting to know how long or little you have left. A few hours at least but it won't be enough. How can you fit the rest of your lives into a few hours?
Finnick's hand reaches to your cheek, stroking the soft skin gently, "We should try to sleep." His suggestion falls on deaf ears. Neither of you will sleep, you both know it. You'll be too worried about the morning, about the games, about him never returning.
You have until the morning comes.
It's a while later, you start to hear the birds singing outside and you know that morning fast approaches. Finnick shifts, propping himself up on his elbows to reach under his pillow. You lift your head, looking at him curiously.
"A promise," he says softly as he opens his palm to you, holding a ring. It's a simple ring, gold with three shiny diamonds, it looks expensive, "A promise that I am yours and you are mine. A promise to try my best to return to you. A promise that if-" when "-I do, we shall be wed immediately." His voice wobbles towards the end, "A promise that I shall love you for eternity." You're a mess of snot and tears as you sob into his arms. He holds you tight, pressing soft kisses to your skin as he too weeps quietly.
Goddamn Snow.
When the morning comes, it comes fast and furious with sun streaming through the curtains and already, you can hear the chatter of District 4. It's not long before there's a knock from the front door and Finnick gets dressed. Neither of you speak, you just watch with tired, stinging eyes.
It's when he's ready, that's when you stand and approach him for the last time. He kisses you, soft and lingering, not really wanting to let your lips go until there's another bang at the door.
Time's up, morning came.
"I love you," you croak as you begin to cry again, "please, Finn-"
He nods, knowing what you want to say. He kisses your forehead then lifts your hand to kiss the engagement ring that now resides on your left hand, "I promise," he whispers.
You hold his hand until he opens the front door, "I love you," he says, turning to look at you. He smiles but it doesn't reach his eyes. God you love that man with everything you have. His hand slips from yours and then the door closes and you dissolve into tears once again, on the floor in the hallway, house suddenly seemingly overwhelming large and empty.
Until we meet again.
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charcubed · 6 months
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Individually and together, Loki and Mobius personify Chaos + Order. Their relationship and love is the balance the TVA needs.
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Victor is talking about the temporal loom, AND this is related to Loki and Mobius' relationship.
Yes, Loki is chaos and Mobius is order... except they each have a little of both principles in themselves because of each others' positive influence.
They've grown together, they've changed each other, and that's why they're the key to saving everyone and everything.
It can never be only chaos or only order. It's about both.
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The TVA was only order, initially.
And when He Who Remains wanted it run by Loki and Sylvie, it was "pure chaos" – as Mobius predicted when deriding the idea of them together, which is partially why they are fundamentally incompatible.
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Neither was sustainable, and neither can be the TVA's future.
(A few days ago I was talking about chaos and order and said "in episode 6 they’re gonna be back at the citadel, and it’ll include Mobius, and Loki’s gonna pick up his dagger in a lokius context, and they’re gonna commit to co-running the TVA (maybe with B-15) and also kiss. Meet in peace at the end of time for order + chaos, let’s GO" so you can imagine how thrilled I was by these themes making a blatant return in this episode lmao)
This is spelled out here too, of course:
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Ravonna personifies only order, while Sylvie personifies only chaos. Hence why they've been at odds from the start, which kickstarted this whole thing when Sylvie was taken by the TVA.
But...
"All that matters is order versus chaos" isn't true.
"When will you learn that none of your words mean a thing?" isn't TRUE.
Mobius' words were the catalyst for Loki to change – hence the framing during that line – and the ways they personify order and chaos as a result is in a partnership rather than in a battle.
The equal relationship and love between Mobius and Loki is ACTUALLY all that matters in the end.
As a bonus, this episode even provided a pitch-perfect microcosm of evidence that, per usual, Mobius' words mean everything. They're vital.
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^^^^ This is what happened in the show at large, but condensed.
Loki was ready to do something rash, like maybe killing Victor Timely. He was panicking. Mobius talked him down, and Loki immediately saw sense and they began to work together to help instead of harm.
Loki, changed by Mobius, then stands in front of Sylvie and tries to keep her from killing.
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He tries to get her to stop and think. She doesn't listen and he cannot change her.
It's EXACTLY what happened in the season 1 finale. And it happens on a wheel. 🌀
What actually changes Sylvie and gets her to listen is Sylvie seeing herself in Victor, which I LOVE.
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All Sylvie wants is free will. Victor asks her for that. If she kills him – "prunes him" for being a Variant – she'd be no better than the old TVA.
So... one last thought (for this post, at least):
Mobius' slow, deliberate, cerebral approach – coupled with his words – is what Loki needs.
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But Mobius needs him just as much for many reasons, including the fact that sometimes Loki sees the obvious that Mobius DOES miss :)
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Chaos and order in harmony.
This is a love story, as always.
And now that love story is explicitly irrevocably tied even more to the plot.
---
My Loki metas on Tumblr are under the tag “chars loki posts.”
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moethewriter · 5 months
Note
Your fics are so so so good. I love the introspection so much. Could you do #30 on the angst prompt with finnick, if you want? thank you!
Hey Anon! Thanks for the compliment! Of Course I can. This one actually took me a hot second to think of an idea for! But I hope you enjoy it! -- TITLE: The Things We Need Most WORD COUNT: 1.1K WARNING: Fighting, not sure if anything else is worth noting under here but if there is let me know and I'll change it! TAGS: Introspection cause its me, fighting and arguing, two idiots being idiots. READER IS FEM CODED!!! Only because it made the most sense with the plot that came to mind! SUMMARY: Sometimes what you needed most was right in front of you ... A/N: Hello again all! The reader in this is fem coded just for the sake of the plot, it made more sense! Thanks for enjoying my work so far everyone! Hope you enjoy this one too, and as always I take constructive criticism so please feel free to leave that!
“You can’t tell anyone.” You said, furiously crossing your arms as though you were a petulant child arguing over bedtime. You thought if anyone could understand, he would, but apparently you had thought wrong.
“The hell I can’t!” He laughed, a small harsh little laugh that didn’t suit him at all. He was looking at you, his eyes boring into your soul, holding nothing but hurt, fear and frustration in them.
“You think I’m going to sit here and let Mags or Annie go back into that arena? Absolutely not, I can’t let that happen.” You snapped, a red tinge growing over your face as anger filled your bones. “You can’t seriously think that either of them are even prepared to step back into there. You and I both know that they’re not! So get off your high horse and keep this secret like I asked you too!”
When you had been reaped, Mags had been your mentor. Finnick had tried to disagree but with the friendship you two had, you knew it wouldn’t be wise. If he lost you, like you had almost lost him, he would be distraught. You were distraught when he had left for his games, nothing seemed to be okay after that. 
But Mags had stepped up, and she got you every sponsor she could. She took care of you and helped you make it out of there alive, back to Finnick, to her and your family. 
You hadn’t met Annie officially until you had turned eighteen, and she, seventeen. Finnick had introduced you both and you had clicked instantly. She became like the sister you never had and then it became the three of you. Annie hadn’t returned the same after she had been reaped and won her games. But Finnick and you had always been there for her, and you would be there for her now.
“If I march in there and tell them what you’re doing, you think they’re going to allow you to put your life on the line for them! They would never allow you to sacrifice yourself for them, you know!” He shot back, running a hand through his hair, roughly. 
“It’s not their choice, Finn! It’s mine. I am actively making this choice alone. You can’t sit here and seriously say you wouldn’t do the same!” An exasperated laugh passed through your lips, as you looked away from him.
Obviously no one wanted to be in this situation, everyone had been promised to be left alone after they had won. Of course Snow could never allow that for any Victors, with how he operated with them after the games. He couldn’t let his little puppets not be punished, he was incapable of sympathy.
“I would take their places in a heartbeat, you know! I would never have any of you going back there if I could!” Finnick said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Neither of you could stand to look at one another, both far too worked up than the situation called for, in your opinion. For the first time in a very long time you didn’t understand what was going through his head. Why was he shooting back at every opportunity, did he think that there was a chance you wouldn’t survive, did he not have that faith in you anymore?
“If you think I’m incapable of doing this, then you need to tell me. Don’t sit there and bullshit your way around things and not give me an answer to why you don’t want me back there. Because I know it’s not just because you're worried.” You said, a cross look passing over your face. You were done yelling, and fighting. You just needed to know what was going on. “If you can’t tell me then you need to let it go, and not tell anyone what I’ve told you here tonight. You need to respect me enough to keep that secret like I’ve asked of you.” 
He looked at you, biting his lip gently. He hardly did that anymore.
“Y/N.” He sucked in a deep breath, preparing himself. “It’s not that I think you couldn’t do it, or wouldn’t be strong enough. You’re the bravest person I know, and one of the strongest. I guess in a way this is selfish … the reason I don’t want you back there. I can’t lose you. We’ve almost lost each other at least once … I can’t feel that again.” He whispered, and you could see the tears welling in his eyes.
“But I can’t be okay with losing Annie or Mags, Finnick. I’m barely okay with the thought of losing you.” You reached out to cup his face, gently.
He looked so much younger like this, more like the boy you had met all those years ago.
“I’m in love with you, Y/N.”
“I …. Finnick.” Your voice was tinged with sadness, and you had no idea what to say at this moment.
Finnick had never left your side from the moment you two had met. He had been there through every single major moment of your life. The day you had your first heartbreak, when you had broken a bone, he had held your hand through the reaping ceremony. He was the piece you had been missing. You couldn’t remember life before him, though you were sure you wouldn’t want to. He was everything to you.
And somewhere between then and now … perhaps you had both fallen in love with one another.  
Of course you had loved Finnick from the moment you had been ten years old, when he had challenged you to a swimming contest and you won. You hadn’t embarrassed him, or that’s what he had always said, but you ended up taking a liking to each other. .
From that moment on you two had become inseparable, there was never one of you without the other. He had changed your life for the better, and you had always hoped you made an impact on his too. 
“I love you too.” You admitted after moments of silence. “I think I always have but there was never a right time to say it.”
“No time like the present.” Finnick chuckled, small and gentle. His hands came up to cup yours, warmth radiating from him.
“I don’t think days before the reaping of the Quarter Quell is the best, but I’ll take it.” You smiled. “Kiss me?”
All he had needed was permission. He leaned down, gently slotting his lips with yours as you brushed your thumb against his cheeks.
Minutes felt like seconds and before you knew it he had pulled away from you, eyes no longer shining with tears but pure … love and joy.
“If you go back in there, both of us are coming out. Got it, L/N.” Finnick said, pulling you into a bone crushing hug.
“Got it, Odair.” You laughed against his chest. 
You didn’t know what the two of you did next, you barely had a clue of what would happen tomorrow … but this was the start of something beautiful. You could feel it.
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