A VICTOR IS NOT A FISHERMAN

_{All I can do is snort; Finnick Odair is somewhat of a legend to Four, but more a joke to the two of us. He’d won his games at fourteen, youngest ever; and combined with his golden looks, he instantly became a Capitol favorite. But it doesn’t take away from how he’d been one of us before. A fisherman. I’d seen him at the docks when I’d been a young girl clinging behind my father, and more than a few times at that. But we’d never spoken. Once he won his games, he stopped showing up to the docks at all.}

_{The fisherman called him The Capitol’s Whore. Said he went through multiple Capitol citizens in his trips there, not to mention that we’d seen him before showing visitors around Four, with most often giving him the smile that I’ve seen only reserved for lovers. I didn’t know him, so I never chimed in. It didn’t feel fair to me, passing judgement on someone I hadn’t spoken to before, but I understood the sense of betrayal. The fishermen stick together; we do not lie to one another, nor turn our backs on our people, or anything of the sort. We are all one. And when he’d come back from the arena… well, he seemed to have forgotten he was a fisherman. The added recent love for The Capitol only worsened the blow.}

chapter one of an enemies to lovers odesta fic, focusing on annie’s reaping and the events that follow. annie is a daughter of four, a recently orphaned fisher that belongs to the lower class of the district. finnick is a victor, in a social class untouched by the rest of four, and what the district views as a class traitor. 

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my odesta fic is enemies to lovers, where annie views finnick as a class traitor and against everything that the fishermen of four stand for. she’s a fisherman and a proud daughter of her district, and crafty and wily, while talented with a trident and knives that she doesn’t plan on wielding in the arena. her perception of the world is black and white, but I’d say the biggest form of development for her is when she learns to realize that the world is simply grey. add in a mob-like family from four, a best friend that would tear the world apart for her, and a victory tour featuring all the victors, and you have solid content on your hands. 😌

His eyes are stunning, and seem to reflect the light, constantly swirling, a new facet gleaming every few seconds. I don’t know how to describe it, save for saying that they remind me of the waters I spent my days above. He reminds me of home, with the colours that are so resplendent of the ever changing sea, along with the kind demeanor that I’ve only ever received from the elder town folk the day I needed it the most. Finnick Odair reminds me of home, and he is as familiar as my heartbeat.

He steps into the cart, and there’s no sign of the arrogant Victor that I’d seen earlier on the stage. Here, he is no longer a preening peacock, desperate for the attention that is so freely given to him. Instead, he’s merely a twenty one year old male, with what seems to be the weight of the world on his shoulders. Mags Flannagan follows behind him, a somewhat elderly woman who I’ve seen a handful of times. I don’t remember much about her games, or how she won; but I do know that she looks as if she possesses all the kindness in the world, and despite the sinking feeling in my stomach, I still smile at her.

oop, imma drop chapter one of my Odesta fic on AO3 today :’)