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mrs-kmikaelson · 8 months

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Our Song and Dance³

Pairing: Finnick Odair x reader Summary: You'd grown used to dancing the same dance over and over again, the victor's dance, but then you start dancing with Finnick Odair and you feel things you never thought you'd feel. So you let yourself enjoy the dance, even though you knew that every song inevitably came to an end. Warnings: long, exploitation of minors, mentions of forced prostitution, suicidal thoughts, implied torture, violence, complicated relationships, complex mental health issues, and i involve finnick more in everything Words: 8.1K

Masterlist | Part 4

a/n: switching it up, so this part is from finnick's pov. it's basically mockingjay one, then i'll do one more part for mockingjay 2. ly guys!

Finnick Odair was not sure that love existed. Or, at least he wasn’t. He could barely remember what his parents looked like, let alone if they loved each other. But he had Mags; she proved to him that love existed because he loved her. It was the falling in love that he was unsure about.

And then he met Annie Cresta and it was like he suddenly understood. Yes, this was what the poets were talking about. This was love.

But they couldn’t be together.

He was being sold off all the time, taking countless visits to the Capitol. He couldn’t endanger her like that, let her get involved in the fucked up world he lived in. So he didn’t. He loved her from afar, knowing they’d never really be together.

He thought it’d end there, but then one night, he saw you. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was all his own will, but he walked up to you. He’d seen you at these events before, back home, and on TV, but standing there so close to you, it was like it was just hitting him how beautiful you were.

You were a victor, too. But he realized just how alike you were when he watched as you left a hotel room, in the same state as him. After that, it was you who took a chance on him until he almost looked forward to coming to the Capitol, just to see you.

You weren’t Annie. You didn’t remind him of what poets had written. No, he couldn’t describe you or what you meant to him in just words. What he grew to feel for you over time wasn’t akin to anything he’d ever read. This was so much more than that.

He loved Annie, he always would, but being with you made him realize what it was like to be in love.

But he never told you this, never said any of it out loud out of fear that he’d lose you.

Now he lost you, anyway.

The doors to his hospital room opened. He knew it was Katniss, but he didn’t say anything, staring right at the ground in front of him.

If he looked hard enough, he could see your face.

“Finnick.”

He looked up from his feet, but still didn’t look at her. He already knew what she looked like, and it wasn’t much better than him.

She was mad at him. She’d barely spoken to him since they got to 13, but he knew that she couldn’t have been much more mad at him than he already was at himself.

His voice was quiet when he spoke. “I wanted to go back for them—for Peeta, and Johanna, and Y/N… but I- I couldn’t move.” He twiddled his fingers with the rope in his hands, wishing it was your hand he was holding, but he wasn’t. You weren’t there. He left you.

He finally looked up at Katniss. She looked both emotionless and so emotional at the same time, lifeless but alive. “I- I love her, y’know?” He looked back down at the knot he was tying, sniffling involuntarily.

He was trying to keep it together, but without you, that was like trying to fix a broken glass without any glue.

You were the glue that held him together.

And now the Capitol had you.

The words left his lips without much thought. “I wish she was dead.” He chose to stare at a spot on the ground instead of looking at Katniss’ reaction. His chest tightened. “I wish they were all dead and we were, too.”

If they had died, then at least they wouldn’t have been going through this, having to live but feeling so dead, anyway.

Katniss was silent until he eventually heard her leave the room.

There were words she didn’t say that still floated around the room, agreement that she didn’t voice. She was just as broken as him, holding on for dear life. He hoped that she’d keep holding on.

He had to have hope. He had to have hope that he’d see you again, that this wasn’t all for nothing, that they could build a better world that you could both live in. He needed to hope.

That hope was the only thing that kept him holding on, too.

He was in the cafeteria, sitting next to Katniss and Annie when it happened. The fanfare started playing, Caesar Flickerman’s face coming to the screen. He scoffed, tuning out and looking back down at the food on his plate, swishing it around. Recently, it had been hard for him to work up an appetite.

He looked back up when Katniss grabbed his hand, hers trembling. He soon realized why.

It was Peeta, on the Capitol TV.

Katniss got up, walking to the TV and standing right in front of it, shocked. He would’ve gotten up and followed her, tried to console her, but it was as if he was paralyzed.

Peeta was on the TV.

And you were nowhere in sight.

He heard the conversation that had everyone on the edge of their seat through muffled ears. Peeta didn’t look exactly like himself, but he still looked like the golden boy Panem fell in love with. It was so obvious that the Capitol was using him, playing him like a puppet, but what confused him was that they were using him and not the much more powerful weapon they had in their arsenal.

You were the Princess of Panem. Plutarch and Coin knew that; that’s why they wanted you. Katniss could light a fire, but if they also had you, then together you could cause an explosion. If the Capitol wanted to sway public opinion, why wouldn’t they just use you, someone who the people trusted and adored?

Suddenly, his stomach fell.

If they weren’t using you, then it was because you weren’t in a condition to be shown to the public.

He felt a hand on his, turning his head to see it was Annie, looking at him with a sympathetic expression. As if she could hear his thoughts, the smallest of sad smiles grew on her lips. “It’s gonna be okay, Finnick,” she whispered. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

How the tables had turned. Now it was her assuring him.

In that moment, he understood Annie like never before.

Because he wasn’t so sure she was right.

After Peeta’s interview, Finnick didn’t leave his room much. He’d lie in bed and stare up at the ceiling, pretending that you were there with him. He could withstand the silence if he had you by his side.

But now, the silence was deafening.

Sometimes, he didn’t hear a thing. Other times, your voice would fill the gaps, memories of you flashing before his eyes like a movie. Sometimes, they weren’t memories at all. Sometimes, he imagined a different life for you where you were both happy, in love.

And, sometimes, he imagined what they could’ve been doing to you in the Capitol.

Whenever these awake-nightmares got too vivid, he’d find Katniss and sit with her, knowing she must have been going through the same thing. It was what you would’ve done, what you did with him and Johanna.

You wouldn’t have wanted them to suffer alone.

The next time he was around everyone else, it was per Coin’s request. She announced to them all that Katniss agreed to be The Mockingjay and that, in return, she’d look for an opportunity to extract you, the victors that had been taken.

Katniss moved next to him. “Finnick, I made the deal for Y/N, too.”

It was like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Hope—this was hope.

“Good,” he said. For the first time since he left the arena, he smiled. “That’s good, Katniss.” A small chuckle left him.

Maybe he’d get a chance to make those dreams of his a reality.

With a newfound ardour, Finnick threw himself back into the ring instead of avoiding the fight like he had been, sitting in on meetings and doing whatever he could to make this work. He would see you again; he’d make sure of it.

He went with the propo team to 8, watching as the Girl on Fire did exactly what they’d all been waiting for her to do. He wasn’t the only one that was hopeful—so were people in the districts, the people in 13.

They played her propo at the next assembly. The crowd cheered, but as he stood with The Mockingjay herself on the sidelines, she didn’t look so cheerful. Finnick understood this, he understood it well, but he couldn’t afford to think like that with your life hanging in the balance.

She shouldn’t have to either, he thought.

He leaned closer to her, quizzing, “You don’t like hearing a fight song at a funeral, huh?” She looked up at him almost in the same way she did when he made that joke in the arena. At the memory of your response, a small smile arose on his face. “The more people on our side, the closer we are to Peeta and Y/N,” he reminded her.

She nodded, muttering, “Yeah,” and then turning back to the crowd. She didn’t look so convinced, but he left it there, knowing she was coping with this in her own way.

If Katniss loved Peeta even half as much as he loved you, then he’d let her do whatever she felt comfortable with.

But at the end of the day, it was love that kept them both going.

The next time Peeta was on TV, it was a wake up call for everyone. He didn’t look so refined anymore, so clean. There were bags under his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept or eaten in days.

If this was what Peeta looked like and they still had him on TV, then what about you?

A bile rose in his throat. He ran to the nearest trash can and threw up whatever they served that morning for breakfast, your face flashing underneath his eyelids. You weren’t smiling like in the dreams he had, but screaming.

He knew you weren’t dead, that the Capitol wouldn’t kill you, but when he pictured your face, you didn’t look so alive.

Oh, he wished he could’ve made you smile more. But in the world you lived in, sometimes it was too hard to even do that.

That’s why we’re doing this, he reminded himself. We’re trying to build a better world. But there were no words that Coin could say to shake the guilt he felt, guilt for leaving you, guilt for being the reason this happened to you. There was no band-aid he could put over this wound, no pills that could kill this pain.

But he had to push through it, and he couldn’t do that by sitting in his room by himself; every time he closed his eyes, he saw you. So he went to Katniss’ room, finding her in a position so similar to his own.

That was the man she loved on TV, even if she hadn’t come to terms with her feelings. She must have been just as guilty as him, if not more so. Finnick could remember a time when he rejected his feelings for you, too, scared of caring for somebody, scared of this happening.

He went through the Hunger Games and the Quarter Quell, being sold when he was only sixteen, but falling in love with you was the scariest thing he’d ever experienced.

If that’s how Katniss felt, then he didn’t want her to be alone, not when she reminded him so much of you.

So he sat next to her in silence, letting all of the words he wanted to say hang in the air, hoping that she heard them. They sat there wordlessly until Gale came in, telling them it was time to go, that they were going to 12.

It was only when he was about to leave that he finally spoke, deciding that these were words he had to make sure that she heard, words that he needed to hear, too.

“We’re gonna get them back, Katniss.”

She looked at him, forming somewhat of a smile and nodding. After staring at her for a few seconds, he left the room, going to get ready.

She didn’t know it, but the entire hovercraft ride on the way to 12, he repeated those same exact words to himself over and over again.

We’re gonna get them back.

While nothing could really ease Finnick’s worries, seeing the people fight back certainly helped. The revolution was picking up traction. The videos they shot in 12 had moved people so much that they were willing to put themselves at risk, just out of hope for a better Panem.

If they could do that, then he could, too.

He wondered if you knew about any of this, if you were even aware of what was happening or if the Capitol was just keeping you in the dark. Did you know? Did you hear Katniss sing?

Did it remind you of him the same way it reminded him of you?

He had so many questions, and so little answers.

Rebels in district 5 bombed a hydroelectric dam, cutting power in the Capitol. Not long after, Peeta Mellark was back on TV, talking about it. He no longer even looked like himself. He didn’t look like a victor, but like someone who had lost.

But Finnick supposed that was what a victor was.

Beetee managed to get through the Capitol’s firewall, cutting Peeta off with Katniss’ propo. They watched as tears filled his eyes on screen.

That was the first time he looked like himself.

Are you, are you comin’ to the tree?

He faltered. “Katniss?”

Finnick watched as Katniss got closer to the screen, shaking her head. She saw it, too. She saw the man that went into that arena with them.

But then, like a victor would, his mask went back up so quickly.

“The attack on the dam was a callous and inhuman act of destruction-”

Where a dead man called out for his love to flee.

Peeta inhaled shakily, his lips so slightly quivering. “Think about it,” he said. “How will this end? What will be left?” Finnick walked closer to the screen, like he was caught in a trance. Peeta’s previously calm façade had broken and was replaced with someone who looked stricken by panic. “No one can survive this. No one is safe now. Not here in the Capitol.” He shook his head. “Not in any of the districts.”

He stopped, looking right into the camera as if he was staring into Katniss’ eyes. He may not have known it, but he was.

“They’re coming, Katniss. They’re gonna kill everyone.” They heard quick footsteps behind the camera as Peeta rushed to get his words out. “And in district 13 you’ll be dead by morning-”

Then the camera cut out.

Finnick didn’t know what to say, glancing over at Katniss to see her cupping her mouth in shock.

Haymitch was much more calm. With Katniss spinning out, he had to be. “He’s warning us. That was a warning.” Behind him, Boggs said something in agreement.

Katniss looked to have gotten over her shock, frantically turning and fretting, “We have to get him out before they kill him.” She was ignored.

What about you? he wondered. Where did this leave you? But right now, what they needed to worry about was where it left them.

Otherwise, you wouldn’t have anything to come home to.

“It’s time for an air raid drill.” Seconds after Coin spoke, an alarm went off. Everyone that’d been fixed to their spot in the room was up, like they’d been preparing for this for a lifetime, and from what he heard, they had been.

Katniss went running, searching for her sister while he went looking for Annie and Mags, grabbing them and descending down the stairwell as soon as he saw them. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, his mind blank, just as it was in the arena.

If he let his thoughts take control, then he’d lose it, and he couldn’t do that right now. He couldn’t slip up right now with what was at stake.

It was your life on the line.

He couldn’t lose you.

But a part of him knew that, the second you were in Snow’s hands, the you that he knew was lost forever.

Down in the bunker, Finnick sat on the bottom bunk with Mags off resting by herself while Annie had fallen asleep at the top. Sometimes, with her episodes, it was easy to forget that she was a victor, too, that she had danced the same dance you had. But she was, and she was dancing like never before.

He could tell that she had been trying hard to keep it together, but with all of the panic and the noise, it was hard. She fell asleep easily.

Although the bunker was pretty quiet, his thoughts were still so loud. The last time he saw you played out in his head. He could still taste your lips on his, still feel your soft skin, still see your beautiful eyes.

I’ll see you at midnight?

Yeah, I’ll see you at midnight.

But he didn’t. He never saw you again. He would’ve never let you go if he’d known then what’d happen. He would’ve held you longer, kissed you longer. He would’ve told you he loved you.

If he’d known this’d happen, he would’ve told you long before The Games. The truth was, he couldn’t pinpoint exactly when he fell in love with you. It had always been Annie for him, and you were just there.

But that was exactly it. You were there. You were always there.

Maybe he started falling for you after the first time you slept together. Maybe it was after your fifth time mentoring together. Maybe it was after the time he had a nightmare and you let him hold you. Maybe it was after you smiled, and really smiled, for the first time since you decided to start pretending to be a couple. He couldn’t be sure, but somewhere along the way, you became so much more to him than just Y/N Y/L/N, Princess of Panem and victor of the 67th Hunger Games.

You became the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

He just wished he could’ve told you that.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when someone walked up to him. “Hey.” He looked up, seeing Katniss. She looked beat, her voice quiet. “Can I sit?”

He nodded, moving over so she could sit next to him. She had her family down here, that’s why he hadn’t gone over to her, but he understood why she was coming to him. After going through what they went through, it was easier to be around people who went through the same thing, who were going through the same thing.

Like she was reading his mind, she asked, “Are you thinking about her?”

There wasn’t any need for further explanation. Truthfully, he answered, “Yeah,” looking down at the ground. Every moment he had that wasn’t dedicated to this revolution was spent thinking about you.

After a second, she spoke up again. “Snow’s using her to punish you. He’s taunting us with them.” She scoffed a little. “I didn’t understand that until just now watching that stupid cat.”

She was right. This wasn’t just about propaganda. This was about Snow’s little puppets misbehaving.

So now he was showing them that, even in 13, he still owned them. He still owned Finnick. He still owned Katniss. He still owned Johanna. He still owned Peeta. And he still owned you.

He was using you against him because he knew how much you meant to him, the same way he knew how much Peeta meant to Katniss, even if she didn’t see that herself.

Finnick sighed, debating on whether or not he should say what he was thinking or keep it to himself before deciding that he had held enough in, that holding his thoughts in had never done him any good. So he turned to Katniss and started, “I- Y/N and I, we hadn’t met until after she won her Games. We weren’t really friends, at first, but rumours start fast in the Capitol, especially when ‘royalty’ is involved.” He humourlessly chuckled. “People were saying that we were dating, and so she- she thought the best thing for us to do was to let them believe it, let them have their love story. The alternative, two people coping together- that was a lot darker than what the Capitol could handle.”

She tilted her head, furrowing her brows. He watched as she put it all together. “Wait, are you saying that…”

He nodded. “Yes. It was fake. Our love story was just that: a story.” Surprise was painted all over her face.

“But… you told me that you love her.”

A ghost of a smile came to his face. “I do. I love her. It wasn’t like that at first, but over time, I fell for her, Katniss.” He saw a look pass over her face: understanding. What he was describing wasn’t just you and him; it was her and Peeta. “Y/N and I, we learned how to play the game. If anyone could spot a fake relationship, it was us. After your first Games, we thought your whole romance was an act. We expected you to continue that strategy. But it wasn’t until Peeta’s heart stopped and he nearly died that… I knew I’d misjudged you. You love him.”

Katniss looked away, like what he was saying was something she’d never even considered. It was so clear to everyone that she loved him, everyone but herself.

“I’m not saying in what way,” he added, understanding her feelings so well because he’d right where she was. “Maybe you don’t even know yourself. But anyone paying attention can see it.” He maintained his stare, even as she looked away.

With the life they lived, you didn’t want to give yourself to love, to admit that to yourself, to allow yourself to be vulnerable. But you could only hide a love so strong for so long.

She swallowed, gaze still aimed at the floor. “How do you live with it?”

You’re asking the wrong person, he thought, but that wasn’t an acceptable answer. That wasn’t the answer she was looking for. Right now, Katniss was lost; he needed to point her in the right direction.

Even if he still had trouble doing that for himself.

He paused for a moment, searching for the right words to say. “I drag myself outta nightmares and there’s no relief in waking up,” he confessed. “But I- sometimes, when I’m awake, I let myself dream about her.” Finally, she looked over to him. “I dream that, one day, when this is all over, we’re living in a better world, happy.” The corners of his lips quirked up at the thought. “It’s hope, Katniss. That’s how I live with it.”

Katniss eyes were dull, red, tired, but even in the darkness of the bunker, he was able to see a tiny spark light up in her eyes.

Hope.

They’d fallen asleep in the bunker along with everyone else until Finnick woke up to Boggs shaking him, telling him that they had to go. Coin wanted Katniss to get in front of the camera, tell Panem that they were still standing after the attack.

But, as soon as they stepped outside, he watched her fall apart.

Roses.

A rose?

They’re a Capitol favourite.

You hated roses. Looking at them himself, he couldn’t even blame Katniss. He felt sick, too.

She couldn’t do it. She was almost hysterical, so of course Boggs let her go. They couldn’t put her on TV when she was like this. But they also didn’t have time to wait.

With Katniss gone, Haymitch and Boggs pulled him aside to a briefing room, getting started on a new plan.

“Okay, what are we doing?”

They gave each other a look, much like the look Plutarch and Haymitch traded right after the Quell, like they knew something he didn’t, like they were getting ready for him to explode.

“Finnick, the dam that went down in district 5 cut power in most of the Capitol,” Haymitch started. “Their defences are down—Beetee’s gonna be able to get in now.”

His brows furrowed. He already knew that.

Sensing his confusion, Boggs cut in, “We’ve gotten word that the victors are in the Tribute Centre.”

Suddenly, it was like his heart stopped.

You were coming home.

He echoed his thoughts. “You’re going to get them?”

“Yes, I’ll be leading the mission-”

“Well, I’m coming.” Again, they both shared a look, like they were expecting him to say that, and why wouldn’t they? You were his girlfriend; of course, he wanted to be there to save you.

“Finnick-”

He cut Boggs off a second time, repeating himself, “I am coming with you.”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.”

He scoffed. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Finnick-”

“If you’re going to get Y/N, then I’m coming with you-”

“You are too valuable to this revolution for them to let you go,” Haymitch said, but Finnick really couldn’t give a damn about whatever reason they threw at him. You were all he could think about.

“I’m not just gonna sit here and do nothing while they’re being rescued,” he retaliated. For over a month, sitting around and doing nothing was practically all he’d been doing, fantasizing about you, unknowing of when he’d see you again or if he’d ever see you again, trying to imagine what you could’ve been going through.

He couldn’t just stand by while you were in a live or die situation.

If you died- no, he cut his thoughts off, refusing to finish the sentence.

You couldn’t die.

Haymitch sighed, glancing away before looking back at him. His eyes were always hard, but at that moment, Finnick saw flashes of sympathy. “You won’t be doing nothing.”

His eyes slightly narrowed. “What do you mean?”

The two shared another look before he told him, “Katniss can’t record right now. But you can.”

Another scoff left his lips, an incredulous look on his face as his voice was laced with sarcasm. “You want me to film a propo while you save Y/N?”

Haymitch didn’t respond right away, just staring at him like he was trying to properly articulate his words. The way he was looking at him unnerved him, like whatever he was gonna say could shatter him into a million pieces.

“Not a propo, Finnick,” he finally said, hesitation evident in his tone. “It’s a lot more than that.”

And, as Haymitch explained to him what they wanted him to do, Finnick learned just how much more that was.

Finnick Odair. That was a name synonymous with royalty, luxury, desire. Before he even met you, that was the name he’d built for himself—or, rather, the name that was thrusted into his arms.

A sex symbol.

When you won your Games, he could remember listening to the Capitol chatter. Stunning, refined, intelligent: a princess. You both already had so much in common, both from the same district, both so young when you won, but suddenly, as he watched you leave that hotel room that night in the Capitol, he realized that you had much more in common than he thought.

You were one and the same.

Those nights you spent together in the Capitol, out in the cold, you were silent. And then, even as you spoke to big Capitol fishes and gave speeches, you were still silent then, too, never speaking out about the injustices you’d been faced with.

Now, Finnick stood outside in the darkness, cold, but this time, you weren’t next to him. You weren’t next to him, and that was because Snow took you.

So he wasn’t going to stay silent anymore.

You deserved better than that.

He glanced around, almost as if he was trying to tell if his surroundings were real, if he was really doing this.

He looked back when Cressida called his name, a careful look on her face. “Yeah,” he said, conveying he was okay without saying it, even if he really wasn’t.

She didn’t look very convinced, but she still responded, “Okay.” She paused. “Take your time. Just remember to keep talking and don’t stop.”

He lightly nodded, looking up in front of him, seeing his breath in the air. For a moment, he was silent, but that moment didn’t last long.

He had been silent for far too long already.

“This is Finnick Odair. Winner of the 65th Hunger Games,” he introduced himself, even though he knew that anyone watching must have recognized him right away. “And I’m coming to you from district 13, alive and well. We’ve survived an assault from the Capitol,” he recited. “But I’m not here to give you recent news.”

What he was going to tell them was much more than news about this rebellion. What he would reveal was about a war that’d started long before this rebellion ever did.

“I come with something much more valuable.”

I haven’t dealt in anything as common as money in years.

Well, then how do people pay for the pleasure of your company?

“The truth. The truth about being a victor, about being royalty.” Bitterness seeped through his tone. “Not the myths about a life of luxury. Not the lie about glory for your homeland.” He looked straight at the camera. “You can survive the arena. But the moment you leave, you’re a slave.”

We will never be free, Y/N.

He took in a breath before he spoke his next words, knowing that they held power stronger than a weapon. He may as well have been pointing the gun at his own head. But if he had to get burned to burn down the Capitol, then he would do it. He would do it a thousand times over.

And so would you.

“President Snow used to sell me. Or my body, at least. I wasn’t the only one.” Your face flashed in his mind. “If a victor is considered desirable, the President gives them as a reward or allows people to buy them. If you refuse, he kills someone you love.” Johanna.

It’s not fair. He killed her family. She said no, and he killed her family.

I know. It’s not fair, I know.

It was never fair. No riches or glory could ever be enough to compensate for that.

“To make themselves feel better, my patrons would make presents of money or jewelry. But I found a much more valuable form of payment.” The corners of his lips upturned slightly to form a small, humourless smile. “Secrets.”

The secrets he knew had the power to rip apart the Capitol’s so called “peace” at the seams. For him, for Katniss, for Johanna, for Peeta, for Annie, for you—this peace had fallen apart ages ago.

Katniss was forced to become the voice of thousands when she could barely do that for herself. Johanna turned to rage. Peeta turned to charm. Annie lost her mind. And you… what about you?

It was about time that this peace was destroyed. It was about time that people understood exactly what victors really lost. And that Panem’s monsters weren’t hiding under the bed.

They were sitting on thrones.

“See, I know all the depravity, the deceit, and the cruelty of the Capitol’s pampered elite. But the biggest secrets are about our good President, Coriolanus Snow.” The biggest monster of them all. “Such a young man when he rose to power. Such a clever one to keep it. How, you may ask, did he do it?” He paused, looking right at the camera as if he was looking right into Snow’s eyes.

He hoped he was watching.

He hoped he was watching as they burned the Capitol to the ground.

“One word.” He lit the match. “Poison.” And then he dropped it.

“He stopped every mutiny before it even started. There are so many mysterious deaths to adversaries. Even to allies who were threats.” He could remember being at one of those dinners, watching a man fall onto his plate, his life over so quickly.

Once you were on the playing board, it didn’t matter how powerful you were. To Snow, you were all just pawns that he could knock off the board easily.

Not anymore.

“Snow would drink from the same cup to deflect suspicion. But… antidotes don’t always work, which is why he wears roses that reek of perfume. Help cover the scent of blood from sores in his mouth that will never heal.”

When Finnick learned this, he could remember the feeling he had, the satisfaction in knowing that a man who had spilled so much blood was bleeding himself. It was karmic.

How ironic was that?

“But he can’t hide the scent of who he really is,” he continued, remembering Cressida’s words. Don’t stop. “He kills without mercy. He rules with deception and fear. His weapon of choice is the only thing suited to such a man. Poison.” He scoffed.

“The perfect weapon for a snake.”

Moments after Finnick’s last words, they were off the air. Cressida’s hand went to her ear, a dark look passing over her face. The Capitol air defence system’s coming back online, she said, and she didn’t get to say much else before he went running inside.

Much like every other day he’d spent in 13, your face came to his mind, but this time was different. This time, they went in to save you.

What if they couldn’t?

No, they had to bring you back- they had to.

He ran and ran until he got to ops, seeing Katniss crying in Haymitch’s arms. As soon as she saw him, she latched onto him and he reciprocated her hug tightly. He had to hold on. He had to.

He wouldn’t survive the fall if he let go.

He knows, he knows they’re in the Tribute Centre, she cried, and then for the second time that day, his heart stopped. He knew. Snow knew about the rescue mission.

His ears rang, eyes going blurry. And then things got a little blurry after that, too. Eventually, he ended up back in his room by himself. He didn’t know how he got there, but he did. All he could hear was your voices in his head.

No, you are coming home-

Finni-

We are both coming come. We are both coming home, Y/N, I swear.

He was supposed to protect you. He promised. He promised you that you would both make it home. But now where were you? You weren’t with him.

You never came home.

At one point, Annie came in, trying to be of some consolation, but she ended up leaving, unable to get through to him. He couldn’t hear her over your conversations that replayed in his head on a loop.

I told you. I’m not letting you die.

A tear raced down his cheek. He knew that you were maybe still alive, that you still had a chance, but that didn’t matter. It was never supposed to get to this point. He was never supposed to let it get to this point, a point where you could be dead.

He was supposed to bring you home.

Yeah, I’ll see you at midnight.

The doors suddenly slid open and Katniss walked in, breaking him out of his spell. He wiped the tears that’d fallen, clearing his throat. “Is there any news?”

Solemnly, she shook her head. “No.” He sighed as she sat down next to him, a big exhale leaving her lips, too. Both of them had passed the point of exhaustion, but it wasn’t like they could rest. Finnick wasn’t sure that he could sleep if he tried.

With this song playing so loudly, how could he?

Katniss was dancing the same dance as him, fighting the same battles. The man she loved was out there, too. She must have been just as scared as him.

They sat in silence for a while until she broke it, her voice raspy and just above a whisper. “Finnick?”

He turned to see her looking down at the ground. “Yeah?”

“I-” she stammered. It was only when she looked up at him that he saw the look in her eyes and knew why she was so nervous.

He shook his head. “It’s fine-”

She scoffed. “No, it’s not- it’s not fine-”

“Katniss-”

She cut him off. “I’m sorry.” Her words made him swallow. He knew she was going to speak them, but for some reason, hearing them was so different, surreal. She exhaled again, maintaining eye contact. “I am sorry.”

Finnick looked away. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate her apology, but he felt uncomfortable, looking into her eyes and just seeing the pure sorrow, pity. No, Katniss hadn’t been through exactly what he had, but at that moment, looking into her eyes was like looking into a mirror.

He couldn’t handle that right now, not when he stood at the top of the tallest mountain in the world and had such a long way to fall, everything to lose.

He nodded, accepting her apology without words. It wasn’t her fault. She didn’t know, she didn’t know him back then. She hadn’t been a victor long enough to know yet. If anything, he was glad that she didn’t get to know their world, that she wasn’t sucked up by the same darkness that took you and him.

He was glad that her and Peeta got time in the sun, even if it was only for a little while.

“Y/N…” At the sound of your name, he turned back to her, seeing her brows furrow, eyes glazed over. “When I met her, she said something to me.” Realization flashed across her face as she looked up. “Was- was she-”

He cut her off, “Yeah. Yeah, she was.” When he blinked, he saw you walking out of that hotel room, the look on your face. He’d never forget the way you looked at him that night.

May the odds be ever in your favour, darling.

“There were more,” he admitted. “Any victor that the Capitol found desirable was taken. Annie only couldn’t because of her madness. Johanna-” a humourless chuckle left his lips. “Johanna refused, and her entire family paid the price.” He look back to Katniss to see that her mouth had fallen open, a look of horror on her face. “You and Peeta were spared because you were together. Hell, that’s the reason Y/N and I got together, to escape all this. And now look where we are.”

With you on the verge of dying and Finnick on the verge of losing everything.

You. You were his everything.

And you didn’t even know it.

“I never told her, Katniss.” He was breathless, like the wind had been knocked out of him. He’d realized this before, knew that he made a mistake, but now it was like he was realizing that he may never get the chance to correct it. “I- I never told her I loved her.”

I’m your girlfriend now?

Oh, come on, Y/N. You can’t be serious right now.

I am so serious right now.

You had no idea. You had no idea that you were the reason he kept living, that you were the reason he kept going, even when it hurt so badly. He’d walk through Hell if he could get to Heaven and be with you.

But what if you never knew that?

What if you died without knowing how he felt about you?

Katniss grabbed onto his hand. He looked to see tears welling in her eyes. “You will,” she whispered. “Hope, Finnick. You need to have hope.”

“Hope,” he echoed. Just like how he saw your face, he was able to see a future just as easily. It was so clear. That better world that Coin went on about, the better world that they were fighting for… it was just within their grasp. He nodded, managing to form somewhat of a smile. “Hope.”

He needed that, now more than ever. If he ever wanted to make it to that better world, to live in it with you, then he had to have hope—hope for the both of you.

Katniss didn’t say much after that; neither did he. Both of them were reflecting on their own, still trying to process all the turmoil that the day had caused. He spent his time thinking of you, imagining that better world.

In a better world, you and Finnick would’ve never been sold. You would’ve met, and he would’ve gotten the chance to fall in love with you the right way. He wouldn’t have been so scared to tell you. You would’ve given back to the community, not taken kids to their deaths.

You would’ve been so happy together.

But that wasn’t the world you lived in.

In the world you lived in, you and Finnick were sold at ages far too young. First, you sold your souls by winning The Games, and then your bodies were sold to people who had no business touching you.

In the world you lived in, you were only brought together because of tragedy. You only dated to try and save yourselves from a much greater evil, not because you loved each other.

In the world you lived in, Finnick fell in love with you. But he couldn’t tell you that, not when his biggest fear became losing you.

But in the world you lived in, he lost you, anyway.

So he had to have hope that a better world was possible- he had to. Not having that was another blow he wasn’t sure he could take.

When imagining your better world turned into reminiscing over all that’d happened to you both, he cut his thoughts off. He couldn’t let himself stop and break down now, not when he was so close to the finish line, so close to you.

So he pulled rope from his pocket, tying the same knots over and over again, a habit he’d picked up at a young age. Focusing on the knots was able to take his mind off everything, allowing white noise to play instead of this song.

He didn’t want to hear it without you.

He did this until he lost track of time. It was only when the doors slid open again that he was broken out of his trance. Katniss perked up right away. It was Haymitch behind the door, looking as enthusiastic as Finnick had ever seen him. “They’re back.”

She gasped, getting up and running right away, but it was as if Finnick was cemented to his spot. They’re back.

You were back.

Just like that, he was shaken out of his shock, standing and quickly catching up with them.

They ran until they were in the medical area. As soon as they got there, he saw Johanna, ripping an IV out of her arm. Her hair was gone, shaven off, bruises all over her pale, pale face.

“Johanna,” Katniss muttered, but Finnick’s attention was elsewhere, eyes darting around the room, searching for you, heart racing.

And then he saw you.

His eyes went wide. “Y/N!” Without waiting another second, he ran to you. After over a month, here you were, right in front of him.

But it wasn’t so simple.

You flinched as his hands went to touch you, making him retract them right away. Your eyes didn’t look in his direction once.

Like you were scared of him.

At the thought, his heart clenched. It was only then that he noticed you were shaking, even as you were covered in blankets.

Your body was littered with cuts and bruises. You were pale, too, so clearly malnourished and sleep deprived. But it was your eyes that really got him. Your beautiful eyes no longer looked so lively. They looked empty.

You looked like a ghost.

“Y/N?” His voice cracked simultaneously with his heart. Why weren’t you looking at him? “Y/N-”

He was cut off. “Mr. Odair.” He turned to see a doctor standing on the other side of your bed, a hesitant look on her face and a look in her eyes that made a shiver go up spine. “Could I speak to you for a moment?”

He glanced back to you, seeing that you still weren’t looking at him. Your gaze was fixed on a spot on your bed. You hadn’t looked up once, even as the doctor spoke. Confused, he nodded, letting the woman pull him to the side, out of earshot from you.

But even as the doctor started speaking, he couldn’t get your eyes out of his mind.

That look in your eye was somehow worse than any of his nightmares combined.

“Mr. Odair, Ms. Y/L/N’s condition is… it’s quite complex,” she cautioned. He furrowed his brows, his worry increasing.

“What do you mean- is she okay-”

“No, I meant- physically, I’m not seeing much to be worried about. Of course, she could be better- much better, but this is what we were expecting.” She paused, glancing at you. “Mentally- I’m not even sure where to begin.”

He glanced back at you, too, to see that you were still staring at that same spot on your bed. He let the doctor’s words register in his brain. You weren’t okay.

“We’ve informed psych, but for now, you’re just gonna need to give her time.” Time.

He let out a breath, feeling his eyes getting wet as what she was saying really soaked in. “You’re telling me to leave.” Just as he got you back.

“Mr. Odair-”

“You’re telling me to leave.”

“Finnick.” She cut him off with a strong call of his name. “Your girlfriend’s mental state right now is unstable. She’s in shock; she’s not herself right now. It is going to take some time to get her out of this state, and it’s going to be hard for you to see her in it. In the meantime, the best thing you can do for her is take some time to collect your thoughts.”

She was telling him to go off and think. Did she know that’s all he’d been doing for hours, thinking and throwing himself into the worst possible scenarios, only to realize that one of them had become a reality?

But he didn’t tell her this, instead looking back at you. You were lifeless. When he looked back at the doctor, there was a pleading expression on her face. He didn’t want to leave you, but she made it sound like the best possible thing to do for you. So he did.

But the truth was, he just couldn’t bear to watch you when you were like that.

You were the love of his life. It was like his heart started beating again when he saw you there, alive, but then it dulled once he really looked at you.

You didn’t look like the girl he fell in love with, the girl that went into that arena, or the girl he said goodbye to. It only took a month, and now you looked like a completely different person, like you had seen things no man had ever seen.

In his haze, Finnick made it back to his room, but he didn’t make it to the bed, collapsing onto the floor, bringing his knees up to his chest as his mind spun.

You were alive. He thought that, when he finally saw you again, all of his worries would be erased, that everything would be okay again, that the world would go back to being in colour instead of this black and white that he’d been stuck in with Katniss.

But nothing seemed more colourful.

Nothing seemed better.

You were here. You were back, Y/N Y/L/N, the same woman he loved, the same woman he’d dreamt about for weeks. You were alive.

But, oh, he should’ve known it couldn’t have been that easy.

Your heart was beating, your eyes were open, and you were there… but that didn’t mean you were alive.

I told you. I’m not letting you die.

Little did Finnick know, you were already dead.

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avoxrising · 4 months

Text

The Feral One • Ch 26

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

A second chapter today as promised

Content Warnings - injury, surgery, mention of psych eval

An hour feels like forever as you watch the one you love slowly fade away. You’re passed out again by the time Peeta returns with a medic.

“I could only find one,” he pants, trying to catch his breath. “There were a lot of injuries due to the bombs.”

The medic kneels down to take a look at you. Your blood was still black, worrying the entire group.

“Please,” Finnick pleads. “You have to help her.”

“There aren’t enough of us right now to handle this,” the medic shakes their head. “Half of our unit died to the bombs this morning.”

“Can you radio for someone? Anyone?” Finnick asks.

The medic was able to call for an armored vehicle to come pick you up. They didn’t have any medical supplies but they could drive you to the hospital.

Finnick holds your limp hand the whole way, refusing to let you leave him.

It’s been 12 hours with no news. The doctors immediately rushed you into surgery when you arrived, not even letting Finnick come with you.

Finnick sat alone in the waiting room of the hospital. Peeta had been taken in for a psych eval and Katniss was in the ICU. Boggs was dead, the Leegs were dead, Prim was dead… (Gale was unfortunately not dead)

A gloomy aura hung over the capital that day. The rebels had won but at a high cost. Finnick didn’t know what he would do with himself if you didn’t make it.

“Finnick,” someone states as they nudge his shoulder. The blond looks up to see Johanna in front of him.

“Jo…” he replies. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard what happened…,” she starts. “I needed to be here. They flew me out from thirteen.”

“Thank you,” Finnick hums as his friend sits beside him.

The two of them sit in silence for hours, Finnick periodically dozing off in his chair.

Johanna nudges him awake when the doctor comes out.

“She made it through surgery,” the doctor states, causing the victors to let out a sigh of relief. “She’s in a medically induced coma for the time being. She’ll need to have another operation in a week to remove the mass in her brain.”

“What mass?” Finnick asks.

“The timer…” Johanna mutters.

“We don’t know exactly what it is,” the doctor explains. “We do, however, believe that it’s the cause of her sudden illness. The doctors are in contact with Mr. Latier to devise a safe plan of removal.”

“Can we see her?” Finnick asks.

“I’m afraid she’s in a quarantine until her immune system rebuilds strength,” the doctor responds. “We need to check you for injuries but after I can set up some chairs outside her room for you.”

Physically, Finnick was fine. The doctors gave him some fluids and treated some cuts but released him soon after.

He wanted to help you in any way he could. The hospital was running short on blood so he donated some. Unfortunately it couldn’t go to you but Johanna’s blood was able to.

The doctors did a full body scan on Johanna and determined she was clear of any capital additions, meaning she could donate blood and tissue to you. She spent every moment with Finnick, only leaving to grab him some food.

Mags and Annie called daily from 13 but weren’t able to come to the capital yet. District 13 was working on assigning the victors places to stay in the capital until Snow’s execution but they weren’t ready. There was still a lot of cleanup to do.

Beetee flew in two days before your scheduled surgery. He showed Finnick and Johanna the brain scans and explained in technical terms how they were going to extract it without triggering any reactions.

“My hacking abilities allowed me to gain access to the experiment database of the capital’s military lab,” he explains. “A similar experiment was done on some rats around 60 years ago. Luckily we do not believe removing it will cause any further damage to her system.”

“What was it designed to do?” Johanna asks.

“I believe the experiment was designed to trigger a rabies-like reaction in the subject; resulting in their death. However, I hypothesize that the process did not complete itself in her due to the amount of blood she lost. The reaction is transported via the bloodstream so it ceased when there wasn’t enough blood left to continue it,” he explains. “She’s lucky she got here when she did. The doctors told me they’ve never seen someone that low on blood survive for that long. I’m optimistic that once we gain access to the medical equipment in the military hospital she will heal fairly quickly.”

“Thank you,” Finnick responds.

“We’re victors,” Beetee states. “We look out for each other.”

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#hunger games #finnick odair #hunger games fic #the hunger games #finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #finnick odair angst #finnick angst #mockingjay part 2 #the feral one #avoxrising

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moethewriter · 5 months

Note

could you do number 27 with finnick from the otp prompt list? i love yours fics!

Of course I can anon! Super excited for this one, I had the best time writing it! Lot's of angst and fluff! TITLE: The Light In The Dark WORD COUNT: 1.5k PAIRING: Finnick Odair x Reader WARNING: None! TAGS: Lot's of angst, and fluff! (As always please let me know if you think anything needs to be added) lot's of introspection and reflection from the reader! A/N: I was so so so excited to write this one! And I think it's such an amazing prompt! Thank you so much for requesting it and as always I take constructive criticism! -

District 13 was not a place you particularly enjoyed. It was safe, and secure and far better than being stranded in an arena forced to kill other people. But you weren’t as content as you had hoped you would be. When you were rescued along with everyone the rebellion scooped up, you had kept telling yourself that everything was going to be okay. You had to keep faith that whatever the next step was, was going to end all of it.

Finnick had been rescued alongside you, and he offered a comforting ear. It was so strange being close to him again. It had been a year since you two had broken up, and though it had seemed like yesterday, you were no longer the same people you once were. So much had changed, you had changed.

Though you knew once you both had been reaped that you were going to ally yourself with him. There really was no one else you would rather have at your side. Despite the separation, he had you trust and you knew he was far more capable than a lot of people gave him credit for.

There had been tension between the group, that you knew, no one got along well unless it was with Mags. You knew the other’s could sense a different type of tension between you and Finnick, one filled with unresolved feelings bubbling below the surface. It had only gotten worse after you heard his voice through the jabberjays.

Johanna had tried to talk to you afterwards, even sent Katniss your way but you wouldn’t budge. You didn’t need to have a friendship circle and talk about how you longed for Finnick and how he still had your heart. No one needed to know that but you, though you sensed Johanna had always known, she had known you better than you knew yourself most days.

There had been no major fallout with Finnick, no giant blow up that ended in destruction and despair. It had been so amicable … you had both been so busy, the life of a Victor always was. Not to mention the separation by District had been a struggle. You had been the one to bring it up, despite the pain it caused you. Finnick had agreed with you the moment you finished speaking. You hugged, and he left and then you stood there alone. You were both heartbroken over it, that much you knew.

You had cried for weeks after it, though you felt you had no right to do that. No one was able to console you, despite Johanna trying her very best too. You knew she wasn’t the best with comforting people, she had grown colder after what had happened to her family, but you appreciated the effort she had put in. Seeing Finnick on TV doing interviews, going to parties and generally being in the Capitol had upset you the most. It was hard to look at him, you knew he was hurting so much more than anyone could tell. You wanted to reach out, but you knew it would have been a bad idea. So you stayed silent and watched him from afar, and kept your thoughts about him to yourself.

Though you hoped he thought of you too.

And in a blink of an eye, months had passed. You had both been mentors for the 74th hunger games, though to no avail as your tributes had passed in the arena. You didn’t speak to him much, and he did his best to avoid you. It was strange but you knew he was coping in a far different way then you were, so you couldn’t blame him,

The universe was funny though, bringing you both together again under far different circumstances. He had come to your door days after you had been reaped for The Quarter Quell to form an alliance with you, and you were both informed together about the rebellion by Haymitch Abernathy. You were hesitant but agreed to help, as long as Finnick was there too. There wasn’t anyone else you’d want as an ally in those games. Some small part of you was thankful that he had been there.

“Penny for your thoughts.” A familiar voice broke through the jumbled mess of memories you had been reliving. “Not much in there right now.” You chuckled, turning to meet Finnick’s gaze, he seemed relaxed, and adjusting far better than most people. “Just wondering about what the next step is, thinking about all that needs to be done.” The lie came easily to you, but you knew he could see right through it. He had always been able to see past you.

“That’s not the Y/N I know.” Finnick smiled, leaning against the wall. He looked like an angel in white against the steele gray. “The one I know is simply far too deep in thought about too many things that they’re overwhelming themselves with it. Am I wrong?” He raised a knowing eyebrow.

“You know me far too well, Finnick Odair.” You snorted, crossing your arms in defeat “I was thinking about the past.” You said, quietly, almost hoping he wouldn’t catch what you said at all.

“About us?” He questioned, a strange look crossing his face.

You couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking at that moment, but you knew there was no point in lying. You didn’t want to lie to him anymore.

“You could say that.” You nodded.

“I hope it’s all good memories.” He said, meeting your eyes once more. “I know I still think of those on my dark days.” He swallowed the lump in his throat.

“You were one of the best things that ever happened to me.” You told him, earnestly. “I loved you more than life itself.”

“So you don’t regret it at all?” Finnick questioned, and you weren’t quite sure if he wanted your answer by the way his voice quivered.

“No. Not one bit.” You told him. “I don’t regret having you because you made the sun shine brighter and you made my life worth living again. You put a smile on my face anytime I wasn’t feeling myself. You were the only one who loved me when I thought I couldn’t be loved. You changed me for the better in so many ways. You were, and always have been a star amongst the darkest of skies, Finnick. That little light that kept going even though the world tried to beat it down. You have always been one of a kind. I could never regret you. I would never regret a single thing because if I didn’t have you forever at least I had you at all.” Your voice was thick with emotion, finally saying all of this to him.

You had bottled it up for so long, kept it so tight to your chest that you felt like you were going to explode into a million tiny little pieces. You knew you would always love him, but a second chance at loving him had seemed impossible.

“I don’t regret breaking things off either.” You told him. “It was the best thing we could do for both of us at the time. You and I both know that.”

“I know.” Finnick nodded, a sad smile crossing his face. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t cry for weeks after it happened though. I missed you severely during those first few months. I’m sorry I never reached out, I wanted to but I didn’t know how.”

You could see him fidgeting with his thumbs, something he only did when he was nervous, it was a quirk you thought had been adorable when you first noticed it. He had an anxious energy to him that could be hard to spot if you didn’t know him.

“It’s okay.” You whispered, sniffling a little. “That wasn’t your job anymore to be there for me.”

“You were never a job, I loved … love you and I always wanted to be there for you even when we were over.” Finnick said. “You’re the love of my life, you always have been, Y/N.”

“I’m still the love of your life?” You asked, wiping the stray tear from your eye.

Nothing could have prepared you for this conversation, but you were glad that you could air everything out. There was no one else for you but Finnick. You loved him, and you still wanted to be with him. He was the first person you thought about in the morning, and the last person you thought about before you slept. He was still the love of your life too.

He was always with you, even when he wasn’t.

“Yeah.” He said finally. “I don’t think there’s anyone else for me.”

You made a tentative step towards him, and wrapped your arms around his neck. He was tense, you could feel that, but that didn’t stop him from wrapping his arms around your waist. He was warm, he’d always been built like a furnace in contrast to your cold body temperature but you two still fit together perfectly, like two halves of a whole.

It’s like you were always meant to be in his arms.

“I still love you too.” You told him, letting yourself get lost in his arms.

“When this is all over …” He whispered into your ear. “I’m going to take you on the best date in the world, got it?”

You could hear the smile in his voice.

“Got it.” You said, hugging him tighter.

#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #the hunger games #hunger games #angst #fluff #writing #moeswriting

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kit-kat-katie · 5 months

Text

The time between dusk and dawn

A/N: sorry for being gone a little longer than a month, I've been trying to finish the semester as well as I can. this is meant to be a small in-between chapter, something to get me back into the flow of the story before I rewatch Mockingjay Part 1. I hope you all enjoy this!

TW: reader sustains an knee injury, mentions of kidnapping, implied medical trauma

Pairing: Finnick x GN! Reader (romantic)

Summary: After arriving at District 13, you're in for a rough transition as you get used to a new environment and a new injury. Luckily, you've got someone special by your side to help you through everything.

(<- Previous Part | Next Part -> | Series Masterlist)

Not another word was exchanged between the two of you as you tried to fight off sleep. You were mentally weary from the Hunger Games - were your friends okay? - and physically tired from the fighting and running.

What about your friends, your family, back in District 4?

You try to speak, but your words are far from your tongue as you finally let sleep overtake you. Finnick squeezes your arms and places a small kiss on your forehead as everything fades to black.

The steady pattern of beeping medical equipment rustles you from your slumber. You can’t move your knee as a blinding light comes across your vision. Out of natural habit, you thrash around before a pair of strong arms bound you to the table.

“Watch out for them… they bite.” A gruff voice says as a needle slides into your arm.

You try to continue to fight them off, but an unusual bout of sleepiness takes over you. In a few seconds, you’re back into the darkness once again.

Once the sedative wears off, you’re back awake, but the medical equipment is much softer in the background. With no bright light in front of you, you can focus more on your surroundings. You’re not in with the stronger man and surgical weapons - a surgery room, you reason. Out of all of the unfamiliarity, there is something familiar.

“Finnick.” You breathlessly say as his head turns to you.

“You’re awake.” His hand meets yours on the bed as he leans forward and brushes some hair out of your face.

“My knee…” You take your other hand and try to feel down your leg, but Finnick catches your hand and tosses it to the side.

“The doctors took care of it. How are you, honey?”

“Scared about everything… any news about-“

“It’s not good,” His head hangs low for a minute, “they’re in the Capitol.”

“All of them?”

“The ones who are still alive.”

“Finnick.” You squeeze his hand as his eyes snap up to meet yours. “I knew this would happen, but…”

“But?” His voice got soft, as if he knows what you’re going to say next.

“I thought it was going to be me. I volunteered for Annie and Mags. It’s supposed to be me suffering, not them.”

“Don’t say that. I’m glad you’re here with me.” His hand ghosts your knee before returning to his side. “I’d have been torn apart if you had been taken.”

His eyes grow distant, but you’re quick to pull him back with a tug on his arm.

“I’m here, I promise. I’m gonna need you, darling. Who else am I gonna lean on when I need you to support me?”

“Finnick, stop laughing!”

Despite your scolding, your smile matches his as you attempt to take a step forward with your bandaged knee. You lean against the support rail as you stop to take a breath.

Finnick raises an eyebrow as he stands a few feet away.

“Are you sure you don’t need help, sweetheart?” His words are teasing, but you can see the genuineness in his eyes.

“I have to get used to this new knee one way or another.” You try to take another step forward, but your leg is unwilling to move.

You look back to the beginning of the hallway, which is six feet away from you.

It’s a foot farther from yesterday, and that’s enough progress for me.

“I changed my mind. I do need help.” You reach out to Finnick with one hand as you use the railing as a crutch.

He immediately comes to your rescue by throwing your free arm around his shoulder.

“You don’t have to go this alone. I’m always here to help you.” Finnick softly says as you both slowly make your way back to the hospital room. He pauses for a moment to press a soft kiss to your forehead, which makes you smile to yourself.

“I know.” You mumble to yourself.

But I can’t help but feel useless. What good is sunshine if every day is a cloudy day?

“The cane’s a nice touch.” Haymitch jokes as you sit in-between Finnick and him.

“I’m not in fighting shape, so this will have to do.” You shrug before Finnick grabs your hand under the table. “How’s Katniss?”

“Not good.” Haymitch says before taking a large drink of water. “You’d probably do better if you talked to her. She’s not exactly… pleased with my decision to take her instead of Peeta.”

“If you’re indirectly asking me to speak with Katniss, I’ll do it.” You set your cane aside as you look at Finnick. “Are you alright?”

You had seen his smile slip for a moment, but it reappears once you show some concern.

“I’m alright, Sunny.”

Your voice drops to a whisper as you say, “You don’t have to stay strong for me. I know you miss Annie and Mags too.”

You squeeze his hand, not expecting a response, but after a moment, he squeezes your hand back as if to say I know.

And, for a moment, you believe that everything’s going to be okay. Even if it’s a lie you tell yourself to sleep better at night.

tagging -> @yokolesbianism , @avoxrising, @honethatty12, @sweetybuzz25, @catvader101, @sollum, @emerald-valkyrie (send an ask or reply to be added for any future updates!)

#thg #thg finnick #thg x reader #the hunger games #the hunger games fluff #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games fanfic #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #finnick x reader #finnick imagine #fanfic #x reader

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annabelle--cane · 3 months

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do we have any information on the approximate dates or year that TMA takes place in? I’m obsessed with timelines and I’m so curious about if those dates are Known or not or can only be guessed about

yes we do! some parts of the timeline are a little vague, but every live and "in situ" statement (with a few exceptions) has a date attached to it. I won't go through every known date, and I'm also not scrupulously checking to make sure I've copied all these numbers down correctly so there's probably an error or two in here, but some significant ones include:

mag 13 - alone: the first live statement and the first hard date for the show, 13 january 2016

mag 22 - colony: martin's statement after being trapped by jane prentiss, 12 march 2016

mag 26 - a distortion: sasha's statement about meeting michael, 2 april 2016 (<- that was my fourteenth birthday :3)

mag 38 / mag 39 / mag 40: jane prentiss's attack on the institute, sasha's death, and all the debrief statements afterwards, 29 july 2016

mag 41 - too deep: jon's statement about exploring the tunnels and his first supplemental tape about gertrude's murder, 2 september 2016

mag 43 - section 31: basira's statement about diego molina + the start of her giving gertrude's old tapes to jon, 19 september 2016

mag 47 - the new door: helen's statement about the hallways, we meet michael in person for the first time, 2 october 2016

mag 61 - hard shoulder: daisy's statement about seeing the coffin for the first time, 1 december 2016

mag 73 - police lights: basira's statement about rescuing callum brodie from maxwell rayner, 11 february 2017

mag 76 - the smell of blood: melanie's statement about her investigations into war ghosts, at the end she and jon have a bit of a fight about how That Is Not Sasha, 13 february 2017

mag 78 / mag 79 / mag 80: jon releases not-sasha from the table, martin and tim get trapped in the corridors, jon meets leiter, elias smashes leitner with a metal pipe, all on 16 february 2017

mag 81 / mag 82: jon makes a statement at georgie's place about a guest for mr spider at the same time as daisy interviews the remaining archives staff to try and ascertain his whereabouts, 18 february 2017

mag 89 - twice as bright: statement of jude perry, ft. jon hand crispification, 24 april 2017

mag 91 / mag 92 (/ maybe mag 93?): statement of mike crew, death of mike crew, jon daisy and basira's encounter in the woods, the big elias conversation at the institute, 28 april 2017. mag 93 might also be recorded on this day, I'm not quite sure, because georgie's statement (mag 94) is 29 april, but I don't know if that's fully the next day or if jon got back really late on the 28th, recorded mag 93, and then georgie gave her statement in the wee hours of the 29th. up to interpretation and how little sleep you envision jon as having.

mag 100 - I guess you had to be there: lynne hammond's is 2 may 2017, robin lennox's is 20 may 2017, brian finlinson's is 26 may 2017, and "john smith's" statement doesn't have a date.

mag 111 - family business: gerry's posthumous statement about smirke's 14, 30 june 2017. again, trevor and julia's statement about how they met in mag 109 is dated 29 june, and I don't know if it's an either-side-of-midnight thing or a full day elapsed between them.

mag 118 - the masquerade: martin and melanie pull a fast one on elias while the rest of the gang sets up explosives in the unknowing, 6 august 2017.

mag 120 - eye contact: elias's statement about jon's coma dreams + elias's arrest, 9 august 2017.

mag 121 / mag 122: oliver banks gives his statement about point nemo and jon wakes up, 15 february 2018

mag 128 - heavy goods: breekon deliver's the coffin and jon slurps a statement right out of his head, 3 march 2018

mag 132 - entombed: jon buries himself alive to rescue daisy, 24-26 march 2018

mag 141 - doomed voyage: on the boat to norway jon slurps a statement about mikaele salesa out of a shiphand's head, 11 june 2018

mag 142 - scrutiny: jess tyrell comes in to complain about jon slurping a statement out of her head and haunting her nightmares, 12 june 2018

mag 146 / mag 147: jon gets intervened on about all the brain slurping, they go to hilltop road and find annabelle's statement, 20 july 2018

mag 157 / mag 158 / mag 159: peter releases not-sasha and brings martin to the panopticon for a showdown with "elias," julia and trevor attack the institute, daisy goes monster mode, and jon follows martin into the lonely and saves him with the power of gay love and also slurping peter lukas's brain so hard he explodes badly, 25 september 2018

mag 160 - the eye opens: jon reads a normal statement and nothing bad happens, 18 october 2018.

fuck if I know

#tma #answered #anons

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sunniskyies · 3 months

Text

𝐆𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐚, 𝐆𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐚, 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐧 || 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐎𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: - 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Finnick has been taken from the arena of the third Quarter Quell by the Capitol, and all you can do from District 13 is wait 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Finnick Odair x fem!reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Violence, mentions of drugs, symptoms of abuse 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Very AU’d, reunion trope, fluff(?), angst, mentions of abuse, violence 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.1k 𝐀/𝐍: (I still don't know if I like this???) I was never going to write a Part 2, but I had this image in my head of the reader going to District 13 and Finnick replacing Johanna at the Capitol, and it had to happen. As with the last one, this story is based on the song ‘Georgia’ by Phoebe Bridgers, please go have a listen to the lyric references <3

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 > 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

Your fingers twist themselves around the soft blue fabric, causing your knuckles to go ivory white. Your eyes are trained on the screen, watching Finnick stumble through the jungle with a terrified expression on his face.

"Help me, Finnick!" You scream —or your voice does at least. "Help me! They got me, please Finnick!"

Finnick's eyes dart around, wild and crazed. "Y/N? Y/N, hold on!"

He staggers around, with Katniss Everdeen right behind him. Soon the canopy is saturated with piercing shrieks and wails - a mixture of your own screams, Gale's, and a young girl's who you presume to be Katniss's sister.

Finnick and Katniss have established the cries are caused by the ebony Jabberjays in the trees, but after Finnick explained that the birds must be mimicking from somewhere, the two tributes had fallen into a frenzy.

You yourself don't know where the Gamemakers got their hands on your voice, but all you are focused on is the sight of your golden boy, scared and alone.

"Finnick," you breathe through your tears. When the recording flicks back to a view of Cashmere and Gloss, you scramble desperately for the remote control. You press the 'rewind' button hard, watching as Finnick once again hears the Jabberjay's cry.

"God, if I see you rewatching those recordings again I'm actually going to burn the tape," a voice groans from the door.

You whip around to shoot a glare at Johanna, who is slumped up against the doorframe.

"Shut up, Mason," you snarl, focusing back on the screen. You've rolled it too far, back to the poisonous fog, and Finnick's cries for Mags echo out of the tinny speakers. "You don't get it."

Johanna rolls her eyes, pushes herself off the doorframe, and walks over. She plops down on the cot beside you and grabs the remote control from your hand.

"Seriously stop that, Fish-face. You're not helping Finnick from in here," she snaps. "They need you down in the infirmary, if you can pull yourself together."

Johanna, always the abrupt one, rips off your 'Mentally Unstable' armband and pats you on the back, hard.

"Johanna. I can't— what if Snow brings Finnick on for an interview instead of Peeta? I can't miss that!" You sniff, fresh tears welling up in your bloodshot eyes.

Johanna sighs, but just gently pulls the hair scarf from your vice-like grip and begins finger-combing your hair out. "You really are the one, aren't you Fish-face," she murmurs.

You sniff again. "The one?"

"Yeah, the one. That sappy shit you find in those romance books." Johanna fidgets in her seat. "Finnick's been with a lot of girls. But he wouldn't go tearing through the jungle—knowing it's futile—for any of them."

For the first time since District 13 had liberated you the night before the games, your heart felt warm. Looking back at the screen, which had now reached the Jabberjays again, you don't feel the usual pang of guilt at his reaction to your cries. You feel a rush of affection.

The one.

"Back in the arena, was he okay?" You often ask this question, even though the answer is always consistent.

Sighing again, Johanna ties up your hair scarf. "He was brave. Strong. What you'd expect from an ego like his."

You hum in acknowledgement. Same answer.

But Johanna continues, "But we could all tell he had a girl back home."

You turn to look at Johanna with raised eyebrows, encouraging her to keep going. She shuffles again, as if awkward talking about topics such as 'love'.

"The way he stared into the sky every night, the way he talked in hushed whispers when he thought no one was listening. I always thought it was that Cresta girl," she admits.

"But now I know he needs you. You're all that he sees," she says simply, ending the conversation at that.

"Hush, sweetheart. It's okay, it's not real," you soothe, rubbing circles on the red-haired girl's back. You've given up trying to coax medicine into the girl, instead settling on trying to prevent her from bashing her skull in.

She's moaning incoherently, and would be tearing at her hair if it weren't for your steady grasp on her wrists.

"Annie, calm down. Breathe with me," you say, kindly but firmly. You take long, deep breaths. Annie's breathing gradually slows, and her glazed eyes begin to sharpen.

All that is thrown out the window when the infirmary's television flickers on, a mandatory viewing from the Capitol.

President Snow, puffy-lipped and menacing, stares out at Panem smugly. A white rose is pinned firmly to his lapel.

"Good evening, Panem. Today we interrupt you for another message from our Victors," You deflate. Peeta. Poor Katniss, you think to yourself.

You turn back to Annie, once again trying to coax the medicine into the mad girl's lips.

"The program shall be carried out by a special new guest of ours," Snow continues. You pause, colour draining from your face, and stare up at the screen.

"He is a fine new addition, enjoy," the president's lips curl back in a sly smile, showing too-perfect veneers and blood-stained gums.

And then Finnick's face replaces him. Golden hair styled but limp, a tight white suit clinging to his form.

"Is that... Finnick? My mentor?" A shaky voice whines. Annie. You have to get her away from this.

"You. Girl," you order, pointing at a small, blonde intern nurse. Must be around 12 or 13. "Take Miss Cresta back to her quarters. Turn off the broadcast. Write her up for a rotation of one hundred milligrams of Methylphenobarbital every six hours. Do you understand?"

Nodding, the young girl wheels the cot out of the room while you stare desperately into the dull green eyes on the television.

"Hello Panem. My name is Finnick Odair, Victor of the 65th Hunger Games," he states flatly, voice hoarse. No amount of powder and colour correction masks the dark circles beneath his eyes and the bruises that peek out from his collar. Your heart clenches.

"Hello, Finnick! Now, I think I can speak for all of us when we say we didn't expect you with us today!" The reptilian voice of Caesar Flickerman slithers out from behind the camera. "Peeta's always been happy for talking, but you don't seem to be one for cooperation, am I right?"

Finnick nods tersely, "Well Caesar, sometimes there's people worth talking for."

The breath leaves your body, and you have to sit down on an empty cot before your knees give out. He's talking about me, you think dizzily. God how you wish you could tell him that you are unharmed and in District 13. That he doesn't have to cooperate to buy your safety.

You watch raptly until the program ends, obsessively studying Finnick's face and movements. Even after the broadcast cuts out, you sit numbly watching the black screen.

You want to run into Command, and demand Plutarch and President Coin to hold back the rebel forces. You fear that if District 13 so much as breathes, they'll kill him.

You're standing on the shoreline, watching as the figure of a young boy begins sinking through the water, silently.

It's the same dream every night, the same outcome, but regardless you still shed your clothing and dive into the cool water.

You push through the rough waves, and like always, the water stretches and distorts, 14-year-old Finnick always out of reach no matter how hard you swim.

The roaring surf deafens you as you watch the boy sink into the depths without a sound.

When you wake up, jolting upright with cold sweat trickling down your spine, you find the deafening roar not exclusive to your nightmare. Outside your bedchamber, you can hear dozens of people shouting and running.

Frightened, you stuff your feet into the papery slippers that District 13 has provided. Automatically, you pull back your hair into your blue bandana as you open the door. The hallway bustles with activity, people rushing in all directions, and you feel your nerves spike.

The air is thick with the smell of disinfectant and sweat, and you're quickly overwhelmed, so you take a deep breath to try and steel yourself as you join the throng of residents. You make your way towards Command, hopefully someone there can explain what is going on.

"Y/N! Hey, Fish-face! Over here," Johanna's familiar voice cuts through the crowd. You scan around until you see the woman, also pushing through the swarm to get to you.

"Johanna! What's happening?" You fret, clasping her arm. Her hair is still plaited from sleep, and she wears an identical thin nightgown.

"Don't freak out," she warns, slowly guiding you towards the infirmary. "But I just talked to Plutarch. Apparently, they arranged a mission to the Capitol without anyone knowing!" She growls.

You freeze. "The Capitol? Why?" Your voice comes out sharp, frantic.

Johanna grins. "To liberate the Victors."

You rip yourself free, hurtling through the crowd as if they are nothing but air. The infirmary is loaded, and people are running in and out.

"I'm a nurse! I'm a nurse," you gasp to the guards at the door, who swiftly let you in.

"Finnick? Where's Finnick?" You choke, pleading at anyone you pass. But they all seem to be distracted by something happening between Katniss, her guard and a very sick-looking man.

"Please, someone tell me where he is!—" You stop, eyes snagging on a tangle of bronze hair.

A thunderclap of relief pierces through you. Finnick is sitting on a gurney with his head bowed and his hands clasped tightly together. He looks worn and defeated, and your heart breaks at the sight of him.

You don't remember pushing through the thick crowd, but you do remember grasping his clasped hands with your own shaky ones.

"Finnick," you breathe. His head jerks upright at the sound of your voice, and when he sees your eyes the defeated boy is replaced by the King of the World.

"Y/N!" He cries, arms wrapping around you and pulling you tight against him. Your face burrows into his neck, your hands never satisfied, constantly moving and grasping a different spot on his shirt or his hair.

"Finnick are you okay? Please tell me you're okay!" You sob, pulling back to look at him briefly before slamming into another tight hug.

"I'm here, it doesn't matter," he whispers into your hair. Disbelief and gratitude has sunk into his tone. "I can't believe you're here. I thought you were back in Four, I thought they had you after the Jabberjays..." His voice is choked out by emotion, and you lean back to show him that you're okay.

Tears well up in your eyes as you take in his exhausted appearance. His golden hair is matted and dishevelled, his skin pallid and marked with bruises. You reach out to touch his cheek gently, tracing the contours of his face. God, how many years you've imagined being able to hold him like this.

"I can fix this," you smile, tapping lightly on his bruised skin. He smiles back, weak but full of warmth.

How could Snow hurt him? This gold-hearted man, how could he take him and tear him apart?

"Do you hate me?" You whisper, fingers stilling from where they were tracing his jaw. Finnick's brow furrows.

"Of course not," he replies. Gently —whether for your sake or his, you're not sure— Finnick pulls you into the narrow mattress next to him. You remain holding each other, but now he's cupping your head, thumb rubbing over the blue fabric of Georgia's scarf as he stares into your eyes, and you stare into his.

"I wasn't sure if I would ever see those eyes again," he murmurs. You giggle, a melody to his ears.

"My eyes? Why are they important?"

Finnick smiles shyly. "It depends. Do you believe in love at first sight?"

Your heart flutters. He said it. He said how you've been feeling towards him for ten years. And he said it about you.

"I do. Because I've loved you ever since I pulled you out of that stupid ocean."

The grin that Finnick shines at you could rival the sun in brightness. "All that time?" You nod. "Well, will you still have me?" He murmurs. When confusion shines in your eyes, he gestures to his condition, scabby cuts and bruises, hollow skin and boney ribs.

A smile, pure and angelic, splits your face. "Of course, Finnick. Will you have me?"

"Over anything."

#ph☆ebe's scribbles #finnick odair x reader #hunger games fic #one shot #finnick odair fanfic #finnick x reader #finnick x you #finnick x y/n #finnick odair #the hunger games #blurb #fanfic #fanfiction

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