finnick had thought that winning the 65th hunger games would have been enough to at least secure him some stability of life, but no, apparently not. when the quarter quell was announced, that was one thing, the inserting of previous victors to make up the tribute pool was just another.

cruel, the capitol was. but they needed entertainment to stem the uprisings in the districts. and he assumed that president snow would not mind killing off katniss everdeen in the slightest. at least mags, his mentor was alright- a different individual from district 4 had volenteered in her place.

the most ironic part? half an hour in, he'd swam to the cornacopia, gotten a trident, and made it far away from the center of the arena, away from the saltwater lake, and into the trees of the humid forest- and ran into an ex lover.

"well look what we have here." he mused with a dimpled grin that managed to come off as both charming and pertetually deadly, raising an eyebrow down you, who he had pinned under his boot, the three sharp points of his trident precariously close to your neck.