#katniss everdeen
“Safe & sound”
Taylor Swift as the ghost of Primrose Everdeen
I’m rewatching the Hunger Games, and it occured to me that Katniss should have just pretended to be in a poly relationship with Peeta and Gale. The capitol would have eaten it up. Snow wouldn’t have been suspicious of Katniss lying about loving Peeta because she and Gale would be right there in the open. The coolness between her and Peeta after the 74th games could be explained away as Katniss trying to soothe over a bit of awkwardness between two new metamours.
I would have loved to see Gale on the tour, stirring up even more revel sentiment while lending emotional support to Katniss and Peeta.
Katniss Everdeen from The Hunger Games has a tumblr account!
requested by anonymous
Katniss Everdeen reimagined by British model Misty Day (34D-24-34, W:H ratio 0.71, 5 ft 5 in or 5 ft 7 in, 117 lbs). Misty has been modelling since 2003. This image is from a series by talented Australian photographer David Entz. David also founded Nude Muse magazine.
Katniss Everdeen reimagined by British model Misty Day (34D-24-34, W:H ratio 0.71, 5 ft 5 in or 5 ft 7 in, 117 lbs). Misty has been modelling since 2003. This image is from a series by talented Australian photographer David Entz. David also founded Nude Muse magazine.
Jennifer Lawrence’s new film? Filmed 7 years ago, when she was just 15, here is a clip from ‘Devil You Know’, out on video on demand in July!
For more J Law news listen to Memoirs of a Fangirl Podcast
The Hunger Games rented several weapons from The Sword & the Stone for production and press - come in on Saturdays 10am-6pm to see, touch and gasp, purchase them!
promise to salivation.
pairings.finnick odair x fem!reader
about.finnick has been saving you ever since you’ve known him, but he can’t help you this time.
warnings. murder, does not follow original plot, foul language?
ricky rocks. this is kind of an L fic because it’s short, but i missed writing for bae.
“you were always the best. killing your brother like that on screen with no hesitation… indeed a performance, one of the best ever seen,” snow sat across from you, his voice calm and precise full of awe. “beautiful.”
he looked off, as if reminiscing about you on screen with blood coating your face and soaking your clothes from days on days of barbarism.
you clenched your jaw, pressing the tip of your tongue into the inside of your cheek as he spoke. your eyes meet the gravel ground of the greenhouse, thinking back to the hot nights and days that were filled with fear and no thoughts but to survive and kill.
your brother kept you safe for as long as he could, that was a mistake. you wish he would have ditched you, to fend for yourself, but he stuck by your side like a leech, ultimately leading to his death.
him or you, and he wanted it to be you.
“i always thought you were so brilliant, even at such a young age,” you were twelve, he was seventeen. you were too young, you had life left to live, therefore you did not deserve to die. “and you grew up… wonderfully.”
“stop,” you shook your head, shook the memories and red images from your mind, “stop talking.”
he did. he leaned back, watching you think. watching you struggle within your own head to come back to reality, to find yourself again. he found it amusing, watching your skin crawl from where you sat.
“he’d be so proud of you, rafe,” he smiled at the visible sudden stiffness in your body. “everything you’ve came to be.”
“don’t say say his name,” you shoved yourself up, hauling towards his seat. “you do not get to say his name.”
he shifts and you swear you see a look of uncomfortableness strike his eyes, looking you up and down, observing the anger that radiated off your skin. you wanted to kill him, you wanted him to feel pain.
“he is dead because of you. you don’t get to say his name when you don’t know what he went through, what i went through,” you were leaned over him, clenching your fists, clenching around a blade.
you wanted to kill him. you were going to kill him.
you pulled the silver knife from your sleeve, pushing it to his throat, “i want you to feel it.”
he smiled beneath the pain, his fine white teeth staining with red as blood seeped up from his throat, looking up to you, daring, not believing that you’d do it, “oh, y/n, if you couldn’t do it then, you can’t do it now.”
“watch me.”
**
he knew.
you didn’t know how but it seemed the moment you walked out of that greenhouse, his eyes were on you and he was tracking you down as you tried your best to get away from the scene, unnoticed—which didn’t work out.
“what’d he say to you?”
“does it matter?”
his body was practically shoved against yours as you tried your best to keep walking, hopefully toward an exit. but he was making it difficult, he always did, but you couldn’t blame him; you were a walking hazard when mad, especially now after the rebellion had fully absorbed panem.
everything was off and the sudden break from routine and fear of the capitol eyes watching you; it was weird and you couldn’t help but be weary of something bad happening.
“no,” he mumbled, grabbing onto your forearm to slow you and pull you away from other onlooking eyes, “but i would like to know what led to you having blood on your hand.”
you clenched your jaw hard as he now had your hand pulled up, showing the crimson colored liquid staining your hand. an aching feeling overcoming every part of your body as the look on finnick’s face begun to get to you, “don’t.”
“don’t what?” his voice was low, his eyes beginning to haunt you with a look asking you something that he wasn’t going to speak aloud; what have you done?
he couldn’t protect you from this. what you had just done, was not something to come back from. he couldn’t understand why. all you had to do was wait, just wait and the whole situation would have taken care of itself.
“he was going to die anyways,” you pulled your wrist from his grip, continuing to walk away, hoping he wouldn’t follow.
“it wasn’t your job to do it,” but of course, he strides after you. “it was planned, y/n, coin is not going to-”
“let me have this, finnick,” you turned fast to face him with anger still built up and ready to spill, “the only thing they’re going to be mad about is the fact that they didn’t get a show like they’re always fucking given. including coin.”
“she’ll have your head.”
“she’ll stay away from me. coin is just as bad as snow, and you know it.”
he stayed silent, his eyes wandering from your face as he thought. you were right. the bombing at the capitol gates single handedly showed that coin was as power hungry as snow and it didn’t matter if it costed lives.
“i can’t save you from this.”
“i don’t need you to saveme, finnick.”
lie. you both knew it.
since the day you met finnick he had been saving your ass, even if you didn’t need it.
many times from snow trying to profit off your body, many times in the eyes of aggressive capitol people and lurking faces, many times within the arena, and during the rebellion.
he kept watchful eyes on you ever since your youthful face replaced his prideful accomplishment of youngest winning victor of the hunger games.
“look, even if snow’s life ended the same, his killing was meant for a crowd,” his voice was a whisper as he pushed you slowly inside and against a wall. “it was going to be coin’s big introduction with katniss doing what she does best. you took that away, if she is anything like snow, you know that won’t go unpunished.”
“what’re you trying to say?”
“you need to leave.”
“then let go.”
he internally winced, wishing he could do more for you other than amp up your fight or flight reflexes. he didn’t want to leave you hanging, leave you to their jaws.
“finn,” you yanked at his sleeve lightly, “you need to let me go.”
his body hovered over you, seeming so out of it—drunk. his aroma was throwing you off, you just had to get away, because if you didn’t now, you probably wouldn’t anytime soon.
“promise me something then.”
you exhaled, blinking up through your lashes, “what?”
“live long enough to let me save you at least one more time?”
@transias@cc13723things@thehuntress09@demigirl-with-problems
