#Johanna Mason Imagine
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hi! if ur requests are open, could we get a black cat! johanna mason x golden retriever!reader dynamic pls? johanna doesnt think r can fight but r shows her training in the training room and johanna is in aw of her? maybe a “close ur mouth, you’ll catch flies” tease from r pls! no worries if you don’t write it, thank you v much! i adore ur writing 😊
UNDERESTIMATE
pairing: johanna mason x fem!reader
summary: johanna learns not to underestimate you.
warnings: teasing, combat, tension
a/n: i adore johanna!! also, great idea!! sorry it’s a short i’ve been a little busy
johanna stood near you, watching intently.
about two minutes ago, johanna had been teasing you. telling you that she thought you were just a pretty face. johanna believed it in all honesty, apparently you’d hid half your games so there was obviously a reason. she assumed it was your lack of skill.
but she was proven wrong as you slung dagger after dagger, hitting the bullseye on each target. then, you’d waltzed over to her axe, levied it over your head and hit it again. adrenaline coursed through you as you made your way over to johanna.
her mouth was agape as you couldn’t help but giggle.
“you know, you might want to close your mouth. you might catch flies in there.” you joked as you closed it for her. she laughed, “okay, maybe i was wrong about you.” you crossed your arms, “not maybe, you were wrong about me. don’t underestimate me again, you’re a pretty face to yknow?” her eyebrows raised, “is that so?” you nodded your head before kissing her on the cheek.
“see you around jo.”
and god did she want to see you again.
#hunger games x reader#johanna mason x reader#johanna mason imagine#johanna mason x you#johanna mason x fem!reader#kira and anon chat <3
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a johanna mason x oblivious!reader, where j always calms down around r and has a soft spot for her, then someone points it out to r and then r realizes that j is only soft for her and when she asks her, j confesses her feelings please? if that made sense 😅, thank you for ur time! i love ur writing :D
If I Know What Love Is, It Is Because of You
pairing: johanan mason x reader
warnings: canon typical violence, alcohol, blood
word count: 2.4k
summary: Everyone can see that Johanna loves you. Well, everybody but you.
a/n: thank you sm for requesting this! i had the best time writing this 🥹 and note: the scenes in italics are flashbacks!
Your head was pounding. The last place you wanted to be right now was this meeting. Yet here you were, sitting at the table, listening to Coin drone on about something as you all waited for everyone to show up – everyone being Johanna.
“Where is Johanna?” Plutarch asked and nodded to the vacant seat the District 7 girl usually occupied. Everyone’s heads turned towards you, causing you to frown at the sudden attention.
“What?”
“Where is she?” The head gamemaker looked at you expectantly.
“Why would I know?” you asked exasperatedly, your irritation and fatigue becoming more and more evident.
Before Plutarch could respond with some quip, Finnick put his hand up and interjected. “She had a therapy session earlier,” he explained, knowing Johanna was likely hiding out in her room after her time with the head doctor.
“Let’s just start without her,” Cressida suggested impatiently, and you rolled your eyes, not even trying to hide your annoyance.
“No,” Coin shook her head. She knew the importance Johanna’s victor status held in this rebellion.
“Well, someone needs to go get her,” Haymitch said before taking a swig of his drink. “(Y/N)?”
Again, everyone looked at you.
“Why me?” you whined. You liked Johanna – more than you cared to admit – but right now, you were too drained to remedy her bad mood.
“You’re the only one she tolerates,” Katniss explained.
You frowned and scrunched your brows. “What about Finnick?”
“She has a soft spot for you.” He shrugged at your perplexed look.
“What?” You tilted your head, becoming increasingly confused. “No she doesn’t.”
“Oh really?” Finnick smirked, a mischievous glint in his eye. “What about that time with Enobaria and the glass table?”
��What did you just say to me?” Johanna seethed as she slowly put her drink down on the glass table before standing up to confront the other woman.
“You heard me.” Enobaria grinned, baring her sharp teeth. “Pawn.”
Johanna flipped the glass table, shattering it completely, causing glass to go flying. “I will kill you, Two,” she screamed, lunging at Enobaria and grabbing at her throat.
“Hey, hey!” Finnick yelled and ran across the room to pull Johanna away.
“Speak to me again and I’ll be the one ripping your throat out.” She pointed at a leering Enobaria while struggling in Finnick’s hold.
“What the hell is going on in here?” you frowned, concern written across your face as you see Johanna, close to tears, being held back. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” Johanna huffed, shrugging Finnick’s hands off her.
“Jo.” You hook your finger under her chin, lifting her gaze to meet yours. Your frown deepened as you saw her forehead was bleeding; a stray piece of glass must have caught her. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.” Johanna closed her eyes and took a deep breath, immediately calming under your touch. Searching her eyes, you didn’t believe her but you didn’t say anything.
“Come on.” You took her hand and squeezed it. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
“That was just because I came after the fight,” you protested weakly, your argument making little sense even to you.
Finnick rolled his eyes but said nothing.
“Sweetheart,” Haymitch interjected, “that girl could not be more in love with you if she tried.”
He just sighed as you gave him a blank stare, your thoughts racing all over the place.
“The whiskey incident?” Haymitch grinned smugly, tilting his glass to you before taking a sip.
This year’s Games were rough, even more than usual. Your tributes had a brutal day in the arena, and you were emotionally drained just from watching.
Entering the common kitchen, you were in desperate need for a drink. You grabbed a glass and the bottle of District 7 whiskey Johanna brought from home.
As you gulped down your decent size pour, already refilling your glass, Haymitch swayed into the room, perking up when he saw the freshly opened bottle.
“What’s that?”
“District 7 whiskey,” you replied, before reading the label. “Hints of smoky pine.”
“Don’t mind if I do.” He chugged down whatever was remaining in his own cup before pouring himself some whiskey.
“I don’t think–” You tried to stop him, knowing Johanna would not be too pleased about Haymitch stealing her alcohol.
“Hmm.” He let out a satisfied sigh as he inhaled the whiskey scent.
But before he could take a test sip, a voice interrupted him.
“What do you think you’re doing? That’s mine,” Johanna walked in, visibly annoyed, and snatched the glass out of his hand.
“(Y/N) is drinking some,” Haymitch argued childishly with an incredulous look.
For a moment, you though you saw a sense of hesitancy flash in Johanna’s eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.
“That’s because (Y/N) has some self-restraint while you drink by the bottle,” Johanna snarked, downing the glass Haymitch had poured himself.
“Hey, (Y/N/N),” Finnick poked his head in the room, briefly greeting the other two. “Cecelia was looking for you.”
You internally groaned and finished off your drink. “She probably wants to go over what happened today and strategize.”
Both Haymitch and Johanna sobered, knowing the District 8 tributes were likely not going to last much longer.
“Thanks, Jo.” You got up and pecked Johanna’s cheek, patting her shoulder. “I really needed that drink.”
“Yeah, no problem,” she responded under her breath. You gave her a small smile and slid past her out of the room.
“You got something –“ Hamyitch motioned to the blush tinting Johanna’s cheek and gave her a knowing smirk.
Johanna snapped out of her brief daze and glared at him. “Oh, shut up, old man.”
“I would hardly call that an ‘incident,’” you objected, rolling your eyes. “I mean what did you expect, drinking what isn’t yours?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Haymitch waved you off. “My point still stands.”
All you could do was nod distractedly, as you were trying to process what Finnick and Haymitch were telling you. You and Johanna had been friends for several years, having met at Johanna’s Victory Tour banquet in the Capitol. Over the years, you knew you were falling for her but not wanting to ruin one of the only friendships you had left, you kept your feelings to yourself.
You would never expect Johanna to ever reciprocate your feelings. I mean why would she? She could be with anybody she wanted. Plus, the baggage that came with being a victor made being in any relationship difficult – for the both of you.
But now you were starting to wonder if there was even a slight chance she felt the same.
“There was also the aftermath of the blood rain,” Katniss added, causing you to wince at the memory.
As you saw Wiress stumble out onto the beach, you recognized Johanna.
“Johanna!” You ran across the beach, Finnick closely behind you.
“(Y/N)! Finnick!” She yelled back as the two older victors sunk into the water.
As you got closer, you could see she was covered in blood and your chest tightened. “Johanna,” you whispered, furrowing your brows.
“What happened? What is that?” Finnick caught his breath and assessed Johanna’s distressed state.
“It’s blood!” She laughed sardonically. “Just my luck. I’m covered in blood!”
By now, Peeta and Katniss had caught up as Johanna continued to tell what happened.
“Well, I got ‘em out. We were all the way deep into the jungle where I thought it was gonna be safe. That’s when the rain started. I thought it was water. Turned out to be blood,” Johanna explained, Wiress approaching behind her, muttering ‘tick tock’ repeatedly. “Hot, thick blood was coming down. It was choking us. We were stumbling around, gagging on it, blind.”
You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding, relieved that at least it wasn’t her own blood.
“That’s when Blight hit the forcefield.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Whether she was mourning her fellow District 7 victor or trying to keep herself from shutting Wiress up, or both, you couldn’t tell. “He wasn’t much but he was from home.”
As Katniss asked about Wiress, to which Beetee responded with something about freshwater, you could only focus on Johanna. You knew her like the back of your hand, and you knew Wiress was getting on her last nerve. Johanna was already not too happy about having to stick with the District 3 victors and being separated from you.
“Tick tock,” Wiress pleaded, grabbing Johanna’s shoulders.
“Just stop,” Johanna screamed and pushed the older woman into the sand. “Just sit down!”
“Hey!” Katniss yelled, quickly advancing towards Johanna, going straight for her throat.
“Hey, what are you doing?” Johanna immediately retaliated, shoving right back.
“Hey, hey, hey.” You instinctively grabbed Johanna and pulled her away, Peeta doing the same with Katniss, albeit less aggressively.
“I got them out for you,” she continued to shout. As you pulled her further away, you could feel her body start to calm.
“Jo, you’re okay,” you assure calmly, loosening your grasp on her. “It’s okay.”
“I’m fine,” she said sharply and pulled her arm away from you, but you weren’t phased by her anger.
“Johanna, hey, look at me,” you coaxed her into meeting your eyes, cupping her face. “You’re okay.”
Johanna stared into your eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m okay,” she breathed, leaning her forehead against yours.
“We’re okay,” you assured, leaning into her touch. “Now, let me clean you off.”
“She has a soft spot for you, (Y/N/N),” Finnick said, snapping you out of the memory.
Your mind was reeling. As you thought back to the years of friendship with Johanna, you realized that they’re right, that she’s never been mad at you, that she is only soft for you.
“I gotta go,” you mumble, getting up and quickly scurrying out of the room.
“We still need to have this meeting,” Plutarch called after you, but you paid him no mind. You needed to get to Johanna.
Weaving through the underground halls towards the dormitory area, you could feel your heart pounding against your chest.
As you arrived at Johanna’s room, you took a deep breath and knocked. “Johanna?”
“It’s open,” she responded.
Pushing the door open, you were met with the sight of Johanna sitting on floor, leaning against her bed, as she fiddled with something between her fingers.
“You know–“ You hovered over her, shoving your hands in your pocket. “You missed the meeting. Coin’s pretty peeved.”
“Yeah, well she can just fuck off,” Johanna cursed, still focused on the piece of fabric in her hands, which you recognized as the scrap of embroidery you’d given her before the Quell.
You moved to sit on the edge of the bed, a heavy silence still hanging in the air, as Johanna still had yet to really acknowledge you.
“Are you upset with me, Johanna?” you asked, selfishly wanting to confirm your suspicions.
“What? No.” Her head immediately snapped up as she finally looked at you. “Why would you think that?”
“I don’t know,” you mumbled, shrugging.
“Well, I’m not.” She went back to playing with a stray thread on the scrap of cloth.
You nodded and another brief moment of silence passed between you before you asked, “Johanna, do you have feelings for me?”
Her eyes widened, clearly taken by surprise. “What?”
“Well, it’s just that everyone was talking about how you have a soft spot for me and that I’m the only one you never get angry with. So, I started thinking and it’s true. You’re always kind to me, even if you’re upset.
“You’ve been there for me all these years, through everything Snow and the Games have thrown at us, and I know I can always count on you. I’ve always cherished our friendship, which is why I never said anything, but I do love you. I’m in love with you,” you confessed, ending your long-winded ramble.
Johanna remained quiet, still staring at the embroidered scrap. Pushing herself off the ground, she joined you to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Remember the day you gave me this?”
You nodded with a small hum. It was the last day you could see her before entering the arena where you would be separated. You wanted her to have a piece of you in case the worst were to happen.
“I was so angry that day,” Johanna revealed, finally looking up and meeting your eyes. “I thought this was your way of saying goodbye, that you were admitting defeat.”
“Johanna,” you trailed off, a crestfallen look on your face.
“Let me finish,” she softly insisted. “It was the first night in the arena when I realized that that anger was actually fear. I remember watching the fallen tributes in the sky and holding my breath, praying you wouldn’t show up. I was so scared, scared I was going to lose you.”
“You didn’t lose me.” You took her hand in yours, squeezing it lightly. “I’m right here.”
“I know.” She took a deep breath and gave you a small smile. “Mostly, I was scared I wouldn’t be able to tell you how I really felt about you.”
Your lips parted, hope flooding your body.
“I love you, (Y/N),” Johanna whispered so quietly that you wouldn’t have heard her if you weren’t inches away.
Tucking a loose hair out of your face, she glanced down at your lips.
“Can I–“
Before she could finish her sentence, you leaned forward and kissed her. There were no sparks or fireworks like everyone says a first kiss should have. Rather, there was a sense of familiarity and comfort, as if you were all each other knew. And in a way, you were.
Johanna was the only constant thing in your life, the only person who truly knew you as you and not some violent victor or Capitol show pony.
Breaking apart, Johanna leaned her forehead against yours. Your eyes were still closed as you savored the feeling of her lips on your skin.
“Hey.” She caressed your cheek with the pad of her thumb, and you opened your eyes with a content sigh.
“Hi.”
“You know,” Johanna started, her fingers running through your hair as you dropped your head against her shoulder. “They’re right.”
“About what?” you mumbled into her shirt.
“I do have a soft spot for you,” she kissed the side of your head.
“Good.” You lifted your head, a small smile dancing on your face. “Because I have one for you too.”
#my writing#johanna mason x reader#johanna mason imagine#johanna mason#johanna mason x you#the hunger games x reader#the hunger games imagine
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Could I get a soulmate AU Johanna mason x victor reader enemies to lovers? like they spend the entire time hating each other just to find out when they’re in district 13 that they’re each other’s soulmates? even after they find out reader is still reluctant with not wanting to talk to Johanna but Johanna kinda trying to make an effort cause she’s seeing her differently now thank u & congratulations on 3k follows
☼ falling leaves (Johanna Mason) ☼
warnings; swearing, death mention, johanna's mean and self-centered, mild name calling.
wc; 4.7k
notes; enjoy all angst, no happy ending.
--
When it comes to being delusional, Johanna Mason takes the cake.
There has not been one conversation you’ve unwillingly had with her where you didn’t think that she’s crazy. The way she holds herself and blatantly disrespects the people around her as if she has some sense of superiority is absolutely mindblowing. It’s like she has yet to realize that all of you are in the same shitty boat, regardless of how you may or may not have won your Games.
If you had to guess, you’d say it has something to do with the popularity and how you handled it. It wasn’t outrageous or anything, at least you don’t think so. It was a normal reaction. You did what any other sane tribute would do in an outlying district that found themselves with every pair of eyes in the Capitol—you wholly and completely embraced the people.
Every move you made was catered to them, that way if you were in need in the arena, you’d be able to get exactly what you wanted. This would come with consequences later on, but you didn’t know that, and you don’t really care now, either. As long as you got the advantage and a sliver of a chance of making it out alive, you didn’t care.
And with you feeding into the fire with your cooperation, you easily ended up being the most popular tribute, surpassing the Careers. That was far from your goal, you flew a little bit too close to the sun, which got you this massive target on your back.
Still, you persevered. You let the Careers hate you, minded your own business, gaining sponsors by the minute. When you received a score of seven, they took a step back. In your interview with Caesar, you drew them back in by talking about how glamorous the Capitol is. If there was one thing you learned, it was that they were a sucker for compliments. Whatever made them feel better.
Well, it worked. All of it. You won the Hunger Games two and a half weeks in. The hardest part was shaking the Careers long enough to split them up and frame a betrayal, which never should have worked. They turned on each other, forgetting about your existence, until there was one left. He was too injured to win, anyway. You picked him off, and your announcement came five minutes later.
You continued to sing praises in the Capitol’s direction up until your Victory Tour, where you were finally able to stop when you got home to District Eleven. You were no longer important enough to focus on, allowing you to settle into victor life. And every time someone asked you if you really thought the Capitol was so great, through a bright smile you’d tell them no.
You met Johanna the following year, and from the very second she laid eyes on you, you knew that the two of you were not going to get along. Her face was twisted, eyes narrowed in your direction. She had her arms crossed over her chest, and she was standing with Finnick Odair.
You remember thinking to yourself, this is not victor solidarity. How could they judge you for a strategy that worked? It wasn’t at all what you were expecting from a pair of people that had suffered the way you had. Especially when they were the talk of the Capitol, themselves.
You came to the realization that you had survived the Hunger Games, but you’d never stop living with the scrutiny of your win for the rest of your life. No matter where you’d go or who you’d talk to, everyone would have an opinion. They’d either think it was smart or a blatant cheap shot.
They would never stop to think that they had come into the Capitol with a different list of things they were willing to do. If they wanted to leave with dignity, if they were fine seeming shallow, if they would settle for nothing less than tough, if they wanted to be a nobody.
For Johanna, you quickly figured out that she wasn’t going to let them help her. She wanted to figure it out on her own, and she did. She downplayed herself to make it seem like she wasn’t a threat. By crying through the reaping and the Tribute Parade, she ensured the idea that she was soft.
When it came to training, she purposely failed at everything she touched to make her seem weak. After scoring a three, all the remaining potential sponsors flew out the window, furthering her agenda. No one would think twice about her, not even the tributes. They wouldn’t have a need to hunt her down in the arena, because she was helpless.
She couldn’t have planned it any better. She hid and waited for a bulk of the tributes to be dead before she decided it was time to show off who she really was. And that was smart and brutal. With there being so little people left, she was able to take out the remaining tributes in less than a week, and was promptly crowned victor.
Her cowardly act was dropped in the interviews that followed. You remember seeing them in passing, noting how she was barely able to hide her distaste for the Capitol. At the time, you thought about how if you were in her shoes, you wouldn’t be as openly hateful.
And as if it were a test, you were reaped the next summer.
It’s just an odd experience to be shunned so heavily by her and Finnick. You expected it more from the Career mentors, but Cashmere, Gloss and Enobaria were so welcoming. They didn’t care where you were from, just the fact that you managed to get their level of popularity coming from nothing.
You suppose that didn’t help your case. Still, that shouldn’t have mattered, anyway. You all won in your own respectable ways. You used the sponsors until they were dry, Johanna pretended to be a damsel, and Finnick won young by trapping tributes in his net and stabbing them with his trident.
She’s been caught on your actions ever since. Despite the fact that you’re merely a year younger than her, or that you’re not the same person you were for the Games, she can’t see past the fact that you threw yourself into the Capitol’s arms. In fact, she called you childish for it.
When you heard that through the grapevine, you knew that any hope of friendship between you two was gone. You wanted to give her time to realize that you’re not a terrible person, but if she was going to start to go down that path, you weren’t going to entertain her. She could be who she wanted to be, you’d just have a pole to keep her at a distance.
It worked for a couple of years, and then it washed down the drain when the Quarter Quell came around. Chaff told you that if you wanted to go back into the arena, you’d have to be willing to help. If not, Seeder would go in instead. As much as you would’ve liked to stay home, you knew that you couldn’t sit back and do nothing. Seeder would be a better leader in District Eleven, and you’d be more helpful in the arena.
When you learned that you’d have to work alongside Johanna and Finnick, you began to regret it. Johanna’s entitled, all she does is run her mouth. She likes to push buttons—yours especially, because she knows that you’re trying to be better than her. It was a tragedy when you accidentally found her in the jungle, because you’d rather deal with Finnick. At least his comments are passive-aggressive.
Besides Johanna’s attempts to piss you off, the arena was surprisingly easy to get through. You ignored her, only speaking to Finnick when it was necessary. You’re sure it was glaringly obvious to Katniss and Peeta that you and Johanna hated each other, but that didn’t get in the way.
And while not everyone made it out of the arena, you did. A nasty period of survivor’s guilt followed, because it wasn’t easy knowing that the ones who got taken by the Capitol were being tortured. It should’ve been you with them, because you’d left Johanna early to make it back to the lightning tree before midnight.
She has not let you live that down. It’s all she talks about—how you abandoned her and Peeta to save your own life. She’s called you every bad name that she can think of to anyone who will listen. Her favorite one being selfish. That one comes out of her mouth so often that it sounds foreign to you now.
It’s funny, because Finnick nearly did the same thing. He initially left the tree to find you, Katniss and Johanna because the wire snapped. And when he realized he wasn’t going to find any of you in time, he started to go back to the tree after he heard Katniss shouting for Peeta. By the time you got there, Katniss had already shot the arrow at the dome, and they were all paralyzed on the floor.
No matter how many times you bring this up to her, on the occasions you feel like arguing, she tells you that it’s different. Finnick was doing his job by going to save the Mockingjay. And that he was to guard the tree with Beetee, anyway. It made sense for him to go back to it.
You know you dig your grave a little further each time you throw Finnick under the bus, but you refuse to be held to a higher standard. It’s hypocrisy, because he’s her best friend, and she’s wearing rose tinted glasses when it comes to him. Sometimes you contemplate how much trouble you’d get in for wringing her neck, and then you wonder if you’ll earn an ounce of respect from her for doing it.
“I didn’t know you had tattoos.” A voice says.
You jump, pulling the top of the jumpsuit to your chest as you turn to see who it is that’s intruding. It’s Finnick, of course. He’s standing in the doorway of your assigned room, which you occupy alone. They had tried to make him your roommate, because from the surface it looked like you got along.
It didn’t work out for multiple reasons. The main one being that he had so many breakdowns from his girlfriend being in the Capitol that he repeatedly got sent back to the hospital to be monitored. They kept his name on the plate next to the door with yours for a few weeks, but ultimately took it down when it was apparent that he wasn’t going to be stable enough to be on his own.
And now that Annie is here in District Thirteen, he lives in a room with her.
“So is knocking not a custom in District Four?” You ask, face twisted. “Or are you a creep?”
Finnick’s eyebrows shoot up, and then he lets out a laugh. “I did knock, I thought you heard me.”
“Clearly not.” You snap, pulling your arms through the top of the jumpsuit. You button the front, looking over him. “And my tattoos are none of your concern.”
He ignores what you’ve said. “Did you get them in the Capitol?”
You press your lips together. “Where else would I have gotten them?”
He makes a face. “I don’t know, District Eleven?”
“We have more Peacekeepers than any of the districts combined, and you think we have tattoo parlors?” You ask. “And one of them is my soulmate mark, so it doesn’t count.”
“Doesn’t mean you don’t know how to have fun.”
You glare. “What do you want?”
He takes in a breath. “You’re needed in Command.”
You sigh, motioning for Finnick to lead the way. He happily turns around in the doorway, heading out. You shut the door behind you, following him to the elevator.
“Which tattoo is your soulmate mark?” Finnick asks.
“None of your business.” You tell him, trying to shut him down.
“Mine is this one.” He rolls up the sleeve on his right arm, getting it above his bicep to show you a pair of koi fish. “Annie has the same one.”
“I figured.” You mutter.
“Is it the one on your back left shoulder?”
It is, he probably got a good view of it while you were trying to get dressed. You’re not sure how he came to the conclusion it’s that one in particular, because you have a group of tattoos on your back. It was advised for you to keep your front half clean for pictures. No one would want a picture of your back.
You went with it, even though you would’ve liked to be able to see them. You convinced yourself to wait a few years before you decide to do what you want. You thought by the time the next generation of victors came out, you’d be out of the spotlight and no one would care then.
“Why does it matter?” You counter.
“I’ve never seen a soulmate tattoo that big before.” Finnick shrugs, “Usually they’re smaller.”
“Yours isn’t that small.”
“I said usually.” Finnick looks at you.
When you make it to Command, you step inside to find it as cold and dark as it normally is. There’s a group of people standing on the far side of the room, the closer you get, the better you’re able to see who it is. The most notable faces are President Coin, Plutarch Heavensbee, and Haymitch Abernathy.
Plutarch gives you a wide smile when you stop at the table. “Here she is now.”
“There’s no telling how Peeta would react to her.” Haymitch shakes his head. “If you want him to do this, he would have to do it alone.”
“Nonsense.” Plutarch waves him off. “Tell me, (Y/n), you used to bake, right?”
Your face scrunches. “How do you know that?”
“Your Victory Tour.” He says. “You said you made cakes and pies.”
You look from him to the table, because you honestly don’t remember mentioning that during your Victory Tour. “At home, yes.”
“And for weddings and parties.” He insists.
You stare at him in bewilderment. “I guess.”
Plutarch nods, looking at Coin. “I told you that she’d fit the description.”
“What do you need cakes and pies for?” You ask, looking at Haymitch for help.
“Finnick and Annie are getting married.” He tells you. “They would like Peeta to make the cake for the wedding.”
“So why do you need me?”
“To help.” Plutarch says, as if it’s obvious. “Peeta won’t be able to make a cake that large on his own. And the staff in the kitchen aren’t prepared to tackle this task.”
“And I am?” You raise your eyebrows.
“Peeta will be in charge.” Coin clarifies. “You’ll help.”
You turn to look at Finnick, who’s approached the table, standing between you and Plutarch. You stare at him for a long moment, thinking of all the times he was an ass to you. How you swallowed it because you wanted to be the bigger person. Yet, he’s older than you so he should know better. And he never once stepped in to stop Johanna.
You decide to cash in on your good behavior. “No.”
When you look back at Coin, she’s got a hard expression on her face, encouraging you to challenge her further. Plutarch gawks for a second. “Well, we were hoping—”
“No, I’m not doing this for them.” You shake your head. “I have nothing against Annie, but Finnick is a different story.” You motion in a circle with your hand. “He does not deserve my help.”
Finnick makes a noise of disbelief. “Why?”
“Because we’re not friends.” You deadpan. “You made that explicitly clear during my first year of mentoring—you and Johanna. And while she was smearing my name, you didn’t once think to stop her.”
Haymitch sighs, eyes on Plutarch. “I tried to explain this to you.”
“That’s petty victor drama.” Plutarch tries to brush it off. “This is for a greater purpose, we want to film a propo to show the Capitol that we’re still celebrating.”
This bothers you too, but not nearly as much as making a cake for Finnick. “If Finnick wants me to help, he’ll apologize and ask me, himself.” You look at him, “Otherwise, Peeta can make the cake on his own.”
All eyes shift to Finnick expectantly. You watch as his skin begins to turn a gentle shade of red, embarrassed. “(Y/n), I’m sorry that I didn’t help you. Will you please make a cake for Annie and I?”
A part of you wishes you could make him beg a little bit more, but for now, this is good enough. “Sure, Finnick. It would be my honor.”
—
“Peeta, I knew you baked, but I didn’t think that you were this good.” You tell him, chewing on a piece of cake that he let you try.
“Thanks.” He lets out a laugh, using the back of his hand to move a stray hair out of his face.
“You said your parents were bakers?” You ask. “How did you manage that?”
“Yes, we all were. My parents ran it, my brothers and I worked. It wasn’t easy. The only reason why people could afford it was because we had to lower our prices.” He reaches for the blue dye at the end of the counter. “It was easier to run after I won.”
“I can imagine.” You nod. “I could finally buy the ingredients I wanted, instead of working with what I had.”
Peeta drops some of the food coloring into the icing. When he decides it’s enough, he stirs the color in, and you watch as it turns from white to a dark blue. Once it’s not getting any more potent, he backs away, reaching for the towel to dust the flour off his hands before reaching to wipe the sweat from his forehead.
“It’s so hot in here.” He shakes his head. “And stuffy. At the bakery, we’d open the windows to keep it from becoming a sauna.”
“There are no windows here.” You laugh. “It’s just a cement box. It’s a good thing I convinced Plutarch to give us tank tops. Could you imagine trying to work in those jumpsuits?”
He practically rolls his eyes. “I wouldn’t be.”
“I don’t think you were given much of a choice.”
“Yeah, and neither were you.” He moves to the sink to wash his hands before returning to icing the cake.
He’s finally gotten to the final tier. It’s taken him almost two hours to do the top half with how intricate the design is. It’s a good thing that he’s talented in that aspect, all you can do is make the cake base taste good on its own.
You yawn, chin resting on your palm while you watch him create more waves. Your eyes flicker to the guards standing in the corner, who are here just in case Peeta has another one of his moments. He’s not himself yet, there are still times where he slips and freaks out. You’re sure you had them on the edge of their seat when you mentioned the family’s bakery.
“You can go, (Y/n).” Peeta tells you, backing off to fix the pipe in his hand. “I’m probably going to be here for a while longer to make the finishing touches.”
“Are you sure? I’m fine staying to keep you company.” You offer.
“No, it’s fine. I like the quiet.” He waves you off. “Go ahead.”
“Thank you.” You smile. “Will you be there tomorrow night for the wedding?”
“Most likely not, but feel free to visit me in the cell.”
You hold back your laugh, walking away. “I’ll keep that in mind. Goodnight, Peeta.”
“Goodnight.” He murmurs.
You push the door to leave the kitchen, shutting it gently behind you. A small hallway leads you directly into the dining area, where there’s dozens of picnic tables set up to eat at during the day. At this time of night, they should all be empty, but there’s one person here, sitting at the table closest to the walkway.
Johanna.
You plan to ignore her and head straight for your room a few floors up, when she clears her throat. “We need to talk.”
“I don’t want to talk to you.” You tell her, not bothering to stop. She gets to her feet.
You can hear her shoes against the floor, and then you feel a hard poke into the back of your left shoulder. “This is a problem.”
Your jaw sets as you turn quickly, grabbing her wrist. “Do not touch me.”
“When Finnick told me you had those leaves on the back of your shoulder, I didn’t believe him.” She says, face twisted. “Now that I’ve seen them, it’s different.”
You throw her arm back at her. “It’s none of your business, like I told him.”
“It is my business.” She tells you. “Considering it’s your soulmate mark.”
“Why? So you can spread rumors about that, too?” You shoot back. “I’m bulletproof, Johanna. Your words ricochet. All you’re doing is making an ass of yourself.”
“I have the same mark, idiot.” She snaps.
The insults you have sizzling on your tongue begin to die. “What?”
“The falling leaves? I have the same mark on my ribs.” She unbuttons her jumpsuit, pulling it wide open to show you the pale skin inside. By the dim light provided in the dining room, you’re able to see that she’s telling the truth.
Your face contorts. “You have to be kidding.”
“I’m obviously not.” She fixes the jumpsuit.
“That’s unfortunate.” You spit. You were hoping that you’d have someone that you could stand to be around.
“I don’t mind.” She admits.
“Well, I do.” You tell her, she locks eyes with you. “I wanted someone I actually liked and could get along with, not some egocentric asshole.”
“Egocentric.” She echoes.
“Yes, because you’re apparently better than I am, don’t you remember that? I’m inferior, you said so yourself.” You tilt your head. “I also remember you calling me pompous, and conceited, and hedonistic, and vain. And of course, your personal favorite, selfish. All words that mean the same thing, not that you’d know that.”
You throw your hands out. “Just because I had a different strategy on how to win the Hunger Games. This is actually so fucking ridiculous that it’s not funny anymore.”
Johanna stares at you, not knowing what to say.
“I mind.” You emphasize, “Now leave me alone.”
–
The next few days are a new level of torture that you’re not quite used to. It seems that word travels fast in this bunker, because you’ve heard everyone’s opinion about the matter on your hands. As if what they think will make a difference or change your mind.
The good thing is that you’re used to this treatment to a certain extent. It’s what happened while you were mentoring. Which would be amusing, if you’re not tired of being treated this way. You’re right back to being scrutinized, this time for a new scenario.
As if it couldn’t get any worse, you were informed earlier this afternoon that you’d have to participate in the wedding ceremony. Plutarch said he wasn’t going to pull you aside for an interview or demand you make a toast. He just wants you to be here, so that when they do catch you on camera, there’s a sense of camaraderie. Even if it’s clear on your face that you’d rather be elsewhere.
After working on that cake with Peeta for several days, you formed a friendship with him. You were hoping that they’d let him out so that you could talk to him throughout the wedding. They can’t risk it, not with Katniss in attendance. One wrong move and it could trigger him into another attack.
You’ve settled for blending in somewhere in the middle of the crowd. You’re keeping close to the front so you seem interested in the traditional dancing, but far away enough to the point you’ll be easily looked over. And you’re keeping your distance from Johanna, who’s still by the chairs on the other side of the room, because she hasn’t let the soulmate thing go.
She wants to fix what she broke, not caring that you’re uninterested. Maybe if she knew how to treat people with dignity, it wouldn’t have gone this far. Instead, she chose to make assumptions about you and ran with it. While telling the people around her that her beliefs are true.
You can’t stand her.
When the crowd comes to a lull, they decide to bring out the cake, the only thing you were still here for. You wanted to see the reactions of the people around you, that way you’d be able to report it back to Peeta later on. While you might not have done much besides building the foundation, he did a fantastic job of making sure that not a single detail was missed on that cake. He deserves every ounce of praise.
There’s gasps, low murmurs. They don’t announce who made and decorated the cake, only that it had taken the two of you days to complete it on time. Once Finnick and Annie have cut out their slice, you quietly slip out of the room, wanting to go back to your bed, tired after the long day.
You don’t even make it a step before the door is opening behind you. You glance over your shoulder to see who it is, and see that it’s one of the many random people that were selected to participate.
“You’re a loyalist, aren’t you?” He asks, tone threatening.
“Excuse me?” You ask, slowing down.
“That’s why you kiss-ass when it comes to the Capitol.” He’s walking in your direction. “Always defendin’ them.”
District Twelve. The people of Thirteen don’t cut corners with words, a lot of the people of Katniss and Peeta’s district do, whether they realize it or not.
“I don’t defend the Capitol.”
“Your interviews said otherwise.”
“Those were done years ago.” Your face twists. “I was a teenager when I was being asked those questions.”
“That doesn’t change anythin’. My skin crawls just knowin’ you’re sleepin’ on the same floor as me.”
“Then sleep on a different floor.” You tell him through gritted teeth. “You have a problem with something that isn’t even real. If I was a loyalist, would I have helped the rebels get Katniss out of the arena?”
“You left them behind.”
You roll your eyes, unable to help it. You were hoping you’d be through with this, but it seems as if Johanna’s words will continue to follow you. And now, they’re going to get you into some questionable situations. They aren’t dangerous for you, though. It is for him, coming up to you like this. You’ll flatten him on the concrete.
You take a step toward him, planning to teach him some manners when the door opens behind him, stopping you. Johanna’s face is screwed tight. “Leave her alone.”
The man scoffs. “I’d be doin’ us a favor, gettin’ rid of her.”
“No, you wouldn’t.” She snaps, striding forward to grab him, yanking him back. “If you so much as lay a finger on her, I’ll break every bone in your body.”
The tone of voice keeps him from pressing her further, raising his hands in defeat. He gives you a look before twisting out of her grasp, going back to join the party.
You eye Johanna for a second, “I don’t need your help.”
“I know.” She heads for the door. “Doesn’t mean I won’t step in.”
You catch the look she sends your way before leaving the hallway. If this is what she plans to do in order to make you forgive her, she’ll be doing it for the rest of her life, because it’s practically meaningless to you.
Still, you suppose that you can give her some credit for trying.
--
this was part of my 3k celebration!!
#ilguna#johanna mason#johanna mason imagine#johanna mason x reader#johanna mason oneshot#johanna mason fanfic#johanna mason x you#johanna mason x y/n#johanna mason x yn#johanna imagine#johanna oneshot#johanna fanfic#johanna x reader#johanna x you#johanna x y/n#johanna x yn#thg#the hunger games#3k celebration#anon#ask#request#angst
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𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ྂ DATING JOHANNA MASON | gender not specified, but fem!aligned.
johanna mason, whose preferred love language is being an asshole. (affectionately)
johanna mason, whose walls always remain up after her two experiences in the arena, but somehow crumble involuntarily when she's around you.
johanna mason, who lets you touch up the cherry red streaks in her hair, standing between your legs while you sit on the countertop, face cradled in your hands as you coat every strand of hers with the color.
johanna mason, whose eyes flicker from sharp and piercing to ever so soft as her gaze lands on you.
johanna mason, who talks of future plans with you during the games should she not survive the quarter quell, dreaming of the house you would have bought and the life you would have shared if it weren't for the corruption of the capitol.
johanna mason, who teaches you how to wield an axe, her scarred hands cradling yours as she guides you through the motions.
johanna mason, who tends a nasty gash on your arm after your attempt at wielding said axe.
johanna mason, who scolds you for attempting to use her axe and mocks your 'stupidity', as if she hadn't been totally terrified just seconds earlier.
johanna mason, who's the black cat to your golden retriever.
johanna mason, who lets you call her by all the cheesy nicknames you wish—nicknames that she would rather die than hear come from anyone else's mouth. johanna mason, who feigns disapproval of such affectionate names, but you can see the slight upturn of her lips whenever you address her by one.
johanna mason, who is constantly afraid of you leaving her, due to her snappy and impatient personality that she uses as a defense mechanism to cover up the vulnerability and trauma that lies underneath. johanna mason, who has never let you know about her insecurities, but maybe she'll let it slip as the years go by.
johanna mason, who's a total winter bug and immediately clings to you the second the temperature drops. latching onto your leg and gazing up at you with red, puffy eyes and a runny nose as she suffers through the flu, begging for you to stay with her when you try to go brew her some tea.
johanna mason, who smiles a lot more when you're around. and not her usual cynical 'i'm lowkey judging you' smile, but a quirk-lipped smirk that appears every time you enter the room.
johanna mason, who wakes up thrashing and trembling in the middle of the night, as the nightmares of her time in the capitol continue to haunt her even after she escaped. she either clings onto you for dear life, needing to feel your touch, or pushes you away completely, struggling to come to grips with her reality.
johanna mason, who holds you firmly against her when you both go back to sleep, her eyes unblinking for the first few hours because she needs the reassurance that she isn't dreaming and that you won't leave her.
johanna mason, who whispers to you in your sleep, telling you how much you mean to her because there's no way she can be this soft when you're awake.
in conclusion, johanna mason. that's it.
©heartss4val — do not steal, edit, or repost my works. plagiarism is prohibited.
#johanna mason#johanna mason x reader#johanna mason fanfic#johanna mason x yn#johanna mason x y/n#johanna mason x you#johanna imagine#johanna oneshot#johanna fanfic#johanna x reader#johanna x yn#johanna x y/n#johanna x you#thg#the hunger games#fluff#catching fire#johanna mason imagine
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I'm Coming For You and I'm Making War [Johanna Mason/Reader] (1/4)
Summary: An orphan from District 10 was no one's pick to win the 68th Hunger Games, but you managed to prove them wrong. You're not impressed with the glitz and glamor of the Capitol and you certainly don't want any of the expectations that come with being a Victor. Not even Finnick Odair's friendship can make you feel any less alone until you meet Johanna Mason. She's everything you didn't know you needed, but when rebellion stirs in the districts after Katniss Everdeen's act of defiance in the 74th Hunger Games that guaranteed not only her survival but Peeta Mellark's as well, it turns out that you might have to face Johanna, Finnick, and everyone you've grown to care about in the 75th Hunger Games.
Word Count: 9k
Author's Notes: This all started because of a gifset that came across my dash one day and it got the fic plotting wheels going in my brain and here we are. I always thought my first Hunger Games fic would be Finnick/Reader, but Johanna stole my heart and I had to go with this idea. If you like this, please let me know by commenting/reblogging. It would mean so much to me since low reader engagement has really killed my motivation. Title comes from Irresistible by Fall Out Boy.
Part One -- Part Two -- Part Three -- Part Four
#the hunger games#johanna mason#johanna mason x reader#thg#hunger games imagine#johanna mason imagine#reader insert#imagine#finnick odair#katniss everdeen#peeta mellark#x reader#hunger games fanfiction#i'm coming for you and i'm making war fic#my fic
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Johanna Mason x Reader
Requests are open! Check my pinned post for details!
You smile as Johanna buries her head in your neck. She claimed you smelled really nice. Bullshit. She was a softy.
You softly stroke her hair and she grumbles a complaint before she leans into your hands. The warmth of your hands was much better than being alone.
"You are the best girlfriend in the world," Johanna teases. She would never admit it, but that statement was true. Johanna loved YN so damn much. Sh would never admit it. Ever.
"I love you Jo-Jo," you say and press a kiss to her head. You were glad to be out. Having been the district nine tribute, no one took you seriously. Being all sunshine and rainbows was bullshit.
You had grown up being taught to fight. Your parents insisted, just in case. Your mother's brother had been killed in the hunger games and she didn't want the same fate for you
"I love you, Y/N/N," she says and places a kiss on your collar bone. She then rests her head on your chest as she plays with your hair.
"Hey, Y/N I need you to help me with-," Finnicks words were cut off by a shoe hitting him in the chest. Then cheek . He stumbles back in pain.
"Can't you see she is busy? Dipshit," Johanna says before placing her head back on your chest.
Finnick leaves the room in shock. What the fuck? Johanna, Johanna Mason, cuddling?.He assumes he just has a concussion and didn't see that right.
#johanna mason#johanna mason x reader#johanna mason imagine#Johanna mason fanfic#thg fanart#thg fandom#thg fanfiction
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taking johanna mason requests!!! send to my inbox :)
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Our Song and Dance¹
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: super-duper-duper long, exploitation of minors, forced prostitution, unrequited love, complicated relationships, violence, death, mental health issues, canadian spelling lol, and i make up some names (lmk if i missed smth)
Words: 19.7K
Masterlist | Part 2
a/n: i alr have this finished, but it was way too long to post in one part (as you can see) so i split it up into three parts. this one goes from pre-hunger games to right before the quell. had this idea in my head as soon as i finished thg, so i hope u enjoy!
Y/N Y/L/N, victor of the 67th Hunger Games. You were from district 4, one of the youngest victors that not only your district has ever had, but also all of Panem. Of course, you weren’t the youngest; that title belonged to none other than Finnick Odair.
A man you hated with a passion and, frankly, a man who didn’t like you very much either.
You could still remember the night you met.
Snow was droning on and on, giving a speech about something you couldn’t care less about. It was all lies, anyway, and you were only gonna end up in some rich man’s bed tonight, so you’d prefer to go through that interaction as drunk as you could be. With that thought, you downed the rest of your flute.
“Ah, careful, Princess.” Before you even saw the person, you knew it was him. His voice was so easily recognizable, even though you had never met, not even after living in the same district, then the Victors’ Village, or even at these little Capitol parties.
Finnick.
You turned, a faux smile on your face that he fully reciprocated. “Snow wouldn’t want the Capitol’s pride and joy to be under the influence,” he said, teasing but with an undertone that put you off.
You didn’t give a damn what Snow thought, but you weren’t gonna say that, especially not in his own home. Instead, you gave him the smile you gave the rest of Panem and directed the topic of conversation away from the President. “I won my Games, Finnick. Trust me, I’m not a lightweight.” Oh, but you wish you were. You wish you could get so drunk that you’d forget who you were entirely.
A part of you felt bad: twenty-three other people died while you walked out of the arena, and yet you wanted nothing more than for your life to end. A part of you wondered if the great Finnick Odair ever felt this way, either, but it wouldn’t be good small talk to ask.
Finnick’s grin only widened. “Pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”
Your eyes just so imperceptibly narrowed. “Likewise.”
He started to walk away, but he suddenly paused like he forgot something, leaning closer to you. Your breath got caught in your throat when you felt his on your neck. Your eyes locked, and all of a sudden, you wondered how it was possible that you never noticed how beautiful his eyes were.
“May the odds be ever in your favour, darling,” he whispered, and then he walked away without giving you another glance.
That night, Finnick didn’t leave your mind. It wasn’t until there was a resident of the Capitol lying on top of you that you stopped thinking about him. When you were in that position, you stopped thinking about everything, really.
When you walked out of your hotel room, done with your little job, Finnick was brought back to the forefront of your mind as your eyes met his. He looked like he was in the same state as you, also having been leaving a room. He looked surprised to see you.
You stared at him for a moment, but then you let yourself disappear down the hallway before he could say anything.
You knew what that meant; you knew it wasn’t his own room that he was leaving. When you got to your own room, you realized you were much more alike than you thought. You supposed that you couldn’t be surprised; Finnick was desirable, so of course Snow would put him up for sale.
You were in the exact same boat.
Since that night, you saw him in a different light.
You two didn’t talk when you got back home, no, but at your next Capitol event, you decided that you’d refuse to leave him alone, to leave someone who was going through the same thing as you to their own devices. That’s what you told yourself, but deep down, you just didn’t want to suffer in silence, either.
So you went and found him after a night with another Capitol pig. Standing outside, hands in his pockets, he looked so calm, but you saw a storm brewing in his eyes that only few could ever decipher.
You went and stood next to him, even though it was freezing cold out. He glanced over at you, and then his face became surprised, not surprise at you being there, but at you being there with him. Neither of you said anything; it was either that you were too afraid of a jabberjay overhearing or of yourselves. You just stood there in a comfortable silence.
You’d learn that, with Finnick, sometimes doing nothing could mean everything.
The two of you went on to do this every time you were there until, slowly, you graduated from just silence to holding each other. Oh, Finnick Odair was a cocky asshole, but when you were in the Capitol, he wasn’t him and you weren’t you. You were just two people that needed comfort, and that was enough.
You still didn’t talk, though, and when you were at home, you didn’t communicate at all. That was why you were surprised when you answered your door to see him standing on the other side.
Finnick went back to being Finnick, striding into your home without so much as an invitation. This caused you to roll your eyes, but they suddenly widened at his words. “Caesar Flickerman is on TV, saying that we’re dating.”
If you were drinking something, you would’ve spit it out. “What?” An incredulous look was painted onto your face.
Finnick, on the other hand, was a little more stoic, not exactly the charmer he was on television or in Capitol balls, but you could easily guess why—and if you hadn’t, then he was gonna tell you, anyways. “You know what this means.” He looked you in the eye, jaw clenched. “Two of Snow’s best—the Prince and Princess of Panem—dating? It’s the last thing he wants.”
“Finnick-”
“No, he won’t be able to sell us if we’re together, and if he can’t sell us, then he’ll start killing the people we love.” This was the first time either of you were even acknowledging the situation you were in.
You felt stung for some reason, even though you didn’t love Finnick—and he didn’t love you. But, deep down, no matter how much you tried to repress it, you knew there was something between you, so hearing him speak to you this way, like you were just nothing, hurt.
However, you got over your feelings quickly, the same way you always had. You moved your thoughts away from your heart and started thinking with your head. You were quiet for a second until you let out a soft gasp, like a light bulb went off in your head.
This time, you made eye contact with Finnick effortlessly. “What if this is exactly what we need?” You asked, a glint in your eye that he hadn’t seen before.
The blond scoffed. “I don’t see how our families dying is exactly what we need, Y/N.”
“No- no, Finnick, you already said it.” You grabbed onto his shoulders. “The Capitol- hell, everyone already thinks we’re the Prince and Princess of Panem. If we give them what they want, then- then we’d be unstoppable.” You paused to let him weigh in, but he only stared heavily at you, not a trace of what he was thinking on display, so you continued, “Snow and all of those Capitol motherfuckers will eat this shit up, Finnick. And then we’ll be free.”
You were trying not to show any emotion, either, but you couldn’t help it. At the mere thought of freedom, something you never thought was possible, you felt so many different things at once. While you were holding your feelings on your sleeve, Finnick was less easy to read.
But, in seconds, you knew exactly how he felt.
“We will never be free, Y/N.”
He walked out after that, leaving you alone in your living room. He’d never know it, but you stayed in that same spot for three hours, staring at where he once stood. His words had awakened something in you, the part of yourself that’d been thrown into the Hunger Games at only fifteen-years-old.
At the time, you thought you were going to die. You were hopeless, but after you won, you realized there was hope after all. You could still make it. Even as Snow allowed your body to be violated, your mind to deteriorate, you still had hope. But Finnick’s words brought back that frightened little girl in you that you thought died.
You’d later realize just how lucky you were that he buried her again. He came back and told you that he’d do it, and as easily as he brought that little girl back to life, he drowned her.
It wasn’t easy at first, pretending to be in love. You didn’t know the first thing about it, but Finnick helped you as if he’d been doing it all his life.
“C’mon, Y/N, it’s gonna be fine-”
“No, it’s not gonna be fine. Caesar’s gonna call us out immediately- and if he doesn’t, then Snow will-”
“Y/N.” Finnick cut off your nervous ramblings with a stern calling of your name. Even him saying your name was still weird to you. You weren’t used to so much conversation with the victor, but now you were gonna have to pretend to love him. “We’re gonna be fine.”
You weren’t convinced, and he saw that with the twitching of your fingers. You knew Finnick was a great actor, and normally you were, too, but this situation was unlike any other that you’d ever been in. It was foreign territory for you.
“Look,” he grabbed onto your hand, “whenever you get nervous up there, you just hold my hand, alright? You’re not alone in this, okay? I’m right here.”
If you didn’t know any better, you’d say your heart skipped a beat. If you didn’t know any better, you’d even say you felt a spark when his skin met yours.
For a second, you pretended that you weren’t pretending. You pretended that you were holding hands because you were two kids in love, not because you had to survive. You pretended you were never in The Games, that you never killed so ruthlessly just to live without truly living. You pretended that you weren’t you, and Finnick wasn’t Finnick, and you were holding hands just because, not because you were about to go on TV and lie.
But that second ended far too quickly as you pulled your hand out of his grasp, nodding. “Okay,” you took a deep breath, repeating his words to yourself, “we’re gonna be okay.”
“Of course, we are. Now tell me again how we met.”
When the time came for the actual interview, you never let Finnick’s hand go.
The experience became more familiar to you as you went on. It was the same as any other show you’d put on for the Capitol. When you were younger, you dreamed of being a storyteller.
Now, you told stories of a life of yours that’d never existed.
Finnick and you were thrusted into the public eye, reciting the same stories day after day. It almost felt like it was actually real, and sometimes, you wished it was.
He’d look at you with a look of love in his eyes in front of all of the cameras, touching you tenderly. Oh, he was a wonderful liar. He even made you believe it for a second, too. But you knew that no such thing would ever happen.
Finnick Odair would never fall for a girl like you. Even if you were slowly falling for him.
During nights alone, you’d marvel at the turn of events. Finnick was once a man that you hated, but now look at you. You didn’t even know if you were faking it anymore. But it is fake, you’d remind yourself. He doesn’t love you, and you won’t love him.
You weren’t gonna let yourself love him. Truth be told, you were never gonna let yourself love anybody in the first place. Loving someone only made a new liability, a new weakness for the Capitol to exploit, but you could not love Finnick.
You’d been through a lot; your heart had taken many blows and survived, but you knew loving Finnick would only one day break it into a million little pieces. Still, it’s not like he made it easy.
You were lying in your bed- your shared bed with Finnick. Since announcing that you were dating, you moved in with him. You both decided it’d be easier to hide it all that way, easier for the public to believe, too. Sharing a bed was his idea—“just in case,” he’d said.
You wanted to object, but what would you even tell him? That you were afraid of falling in love with him? You would never even put the mere idea into his head. So you went along with it.
It was funny, though: you never went to bed alone, but that’s still how it felt. Being next to him, under the covers… it didn’t make you as warm as you hoped it would.
He didn’t live with anyone else. From what you gathered, Mags, your shared mentor, was his only family. His parents died of sickness early on; Mags took him in and kept him alive, all the way up until he was sent to The Games. Finnick didn’t get sappy with you often, but you knew that he couldn’t lose her.
What he was doing for Snow, he was doing for Mags. You thought Mags was the only person he cared about, but you learned that this wasn’t true. There was one other person who he was close to, who he’d do anything to keep safe. That person was Annie Cresta.
You met her once. She was beautiful and sweet, so you understood immediately why Finnick was in love with her. He never talked to you about her, but you could tell just from how he looked at her that she was the light of his life, even if she herself wasn’t aware of that.
Annie was good, the perfect girl for Finnick. She didn’t come with all the baggage you had, she wasn’t as rude, and she always knew what to say. You would’ve wanted them together, too, if it weren’t for the fact that Finnick was becoming your Annie. He was becoming your person, and so it killed you to know that not only was he in love with another girl, but he was also unhappy.
He’d never be happy with you. While you wished you could spare him the torment and just let him be with her, you had people you cared about, too, and he was now also on that list. So your job was to keep you all alive, not happy.
The door to your bedroom opened, interrupting your train of thought. You faced away from the entrance, but you knew it was Finnick. He had perfected soundless footsteps, even though you weren’t in an arena anymore. But you supposed you were still fighting for your lives, anyway.
He climbed into bed, letting out a big exhale when his back hit the mattress. You didn’t greet him, nor did he greet you, even though he knew you were awake. You’d gone through this whole song and dance already. You had to pretend in front of the cameras; you weren’t gonna do that in here, too.
The two of you were silent. This wasn’t a silence like before when you stood together in the Capitol after those horrible nights. This was a silence that was suffocating.
Things were never the same after you decided to go through with this charade. Maybe you were almost friends before, but now you were allies at most, just there to help the other survive. Oh, you wished you could be friends, but life was never so kind.
As if he could hear you begging for companionship, he whispered, “Y/N?”
Your breath hitched. “Yes?”
There was a beat of silence before his response. You wondered what his face looked like, but you wouldn’t dare turn around. “Can we- can we just be together tonight?”
Out of all the things he could’ve said, that didn’t even make your list. You sharply inhaled. Finnick didn’t sound like Finnick at all. He sounded small, and vulnerable, and scared, all states that he’d never let you see him in. But he was.
“What do you mean?” You didn’t turn around. “We are together.”
So unlike Finnick, he stammered, “No, I mean- can I- I want to hold you.”
If this were the dance you compared it to in your head, then you’d be stumbling over your own feet. He’d never asked about anything like that before. In fact, Finnick never even seemed to like you or this predicament much. Sure, you interested him, and maybe you were friends, but you knew that if he could’ve pick anyone else to dance this dance with, he would’ve.
You wondered what brought him to this point. Maybe it had something to do with Annie, but at that moment, you couldn’t bother thinking about it. He’d never know it, but you could never say no to him.
So you turned around and let him wrap his arm around you. But little did he know, you obliged not just to comfort him, but also yourself.
You’d fall asleep in Finnick’s arms every night after that.
You’d always been so independent, so alone, that you forgot what it felt like to lean on someone, even if it was just for a little while in the dead of night. But when Finnick held you, sleep came easier and nightmares came less.
He had no idea that he became your knight in shining armour; he never meant to, but he did. Soon after you started “dating,” Snow left you alone. You still attended Capitol parties, still mentored kids every year, but you no longer found yourself in bed with members of Snow’s cabinet, and neither did Finnick.
It was easier once it stopped, but you still had to grapple with the pain of what had already happened to you; all of this didn’t even take into account The Games. Sure, you were done, but you still had to come back once a year and prepare a kid to kill or be killed. Nothing dredged up old memories like that did.
Doing it with him was what got you through it. When you lost a kid, Finnick was there to hold you and reassure you and himself that it wasn’t your fault, that you couldn’t have done much more to stop it. At times like those especially, you had to reel yourself in and remind yourself that, yes, he cared for you, but he wasn’t in love with you.
There were times that every bone in your body told you the exact opposite, that Finnick’s actions told you the exact opposite. Sometimes, he’d kiss you for the cameras and made you fall for it, too.
God, you were a team, such a great team. Would it be so horrible of you to assume you could be more?
You’d later realize that, yes, it was.
Because at the reaping for the 70th Hunger Games, Annie Cresta’s name was called and your little fantasy of a relationship with Finnick was shattered to pieces.
His usually calm demeanour was broken as he ran toward her as soon as you both got on the train, engulfing her in a hug and soothing her while she sobbed. You just watched from the sidelines, a frown on your face. You wished you were frowning because your dear friend Annie was just chosen to be in a fight to the death, but you were frowning because Finnick had never hugged you like that.
There were no cameras here; this wasn’t for show. He never looked at you like that when there weren’t any cameras around.
You felt like you were intruding on a private moment, even though you were just standing there, even though you were supposed to be his girlfriend, not Annie. A girlfriend would’ve probably cleared her throat, interrupted the interaction, but you couldn’t find the courage to do that.
Instead, you waited for the moment to end and walked over to her yourself when Finnick stepped away, giving her a tight hug as if she hadn’t just brought you to the brink of tears. But that didn’t matter. Annie could possibly die, so your little feelings for Finnick were pretty insignificant at the moment.
You tossed those very feelings to the side, directing all your attention to preparing your tribute. Finnick was trying to explain everything, but he was too worried, so you took over for him, pushing forth all your efforts while he focused on the boy that’d been reaped from your district.
You always tried your best with the tributes, always, but this wasn’t just any tribute. This was Annie Cresta, your friend and the love of Finnick’s life. You needed her to make it out of this alive—Finnick wouldn’t survive without her.
You gave her every piece of advice you could think of during that trip, digging through your memory for things you might’ve even forgotten. You wished you could help the boy in the same way, but there could only be one victor in these Games, and it had to be her.
Remember that these are games, Annie. Don’t worry about the killing once you’re in the arena; you need to treat it like a game, like the other tributes are just pieces that need to be knocked off the board, you told her. You hated every word that came out of your mouth, but she needed to hear it. She needed to overcome the shock now so she didn’t get choked up during the actual Games like you did.
When the time finally came for you to send the tributes off into the arena, you hugged yourself, taking deep breaths to try and calm down. You imagined that it was Finnick’s arms that were around you, but you weren’t gonna ask him to comfort you. He was the one that needed comforting, but you knew he wouldn’t accept it, so you didn’t offer.
Instead, you worked your ass off to get Annie sponsors, to get people to like her as if they didn’t already. You didn’t sleep for days, and neither did Finnick until he accidentally fell asleep for a few hours one day.
You both watched as she took the tips you’d given her, using them in her own way. She was small, but she was smart and she picked up on how to play the game quickly.
Only when the last tribute was dead did a sigh of relief finally leave you. Your shoulders slumped as you sat in front of the TV. Finnick’s muttering fell upon deaf ears as static filled your brain. She made it, you thought. She’s okay.
But that didn’t make life any more okay.
After all, nobody ever really won The Games.
“Annie- Annie, it’s alright-”
“No, it’s not!” You heard something break, like it had thrown it to the ground. When you walked further into your house, your guess was proven right. Finnick and Annie stood in your living room, the former worried and the latter frantic, pieces of a broken vase all over the ground.
“Nothing is okay, Finn! Nothing! Do you hear me- nothing is okay!” The redhead was pacing around with your so called boyfriend trying to stop and calm her down. They were both so panicked that neither of them noticed you, and you didn’t announce your presence, either.
You only stood from the side, just like on that Capitol train. The Annie that went into that arena was innocent. She was eighteen, but she was still more of a child than either of you ever got the chance to be. Now that she won, she didn’t look so innocent anymore.
She wore a look that was so familiar to you. She was alive, but Annie had never looked more like a ghost of herself.
“Annie, please-” Finnick’s voice cracked mid-sentence. He kept trying to get close to her, but she moved away every time. The tears in his eyes made yours watery, too. You had never seen him look so broken, not even as you stood in the Capitol together those cold nights after being used.
If you weren’t sure of how much Finnick loved Annie, you were now.
“No, no, nothing is okay!” She screamed, tears streaming down her face. She suddenly stopped, letting out a sob before collapsing onto the ground. Finnick ran to her right away, pulling her close and rocking her as she repeated the same thing over and over.
You hadn’t even noticed you were crying until you felt the tear falling onto your cheek, wiping at it immediately and turning around to walk away as quietly as you possibly could. You weren’t gonna just stand by and do nothing while Annie fell apart and Finnick cut himself trying to put the pieces back together. You couldn’t.
You found yourself in the kitchen, putting a kettle on the stove to distract yourself. Your eyes zeroed in on it as you tried to block out the sound of Annie’s crying, trying not to cry yourself. At one point, you succeeded, because you couldn’t hear anything anymore.
You don’t know how long you stood there, but you were eventually broken out of your trance by a hand reaching out in front of you to turn off the stove, moving the kettle. It was only now that you realized how loudly it was whistling.
You turned to see the hand belonged to Finnick who now poured the hot water into your expensive tea cups. They were a gift given to you by a patron of the Capitol, an old man with kids and a wife. He was somewhat of a regular of yours, and so he gave you that tea set to try and make himself feel better for what he was doing, along with many other gifts.
You never told Finnick any of this. You wondered if he would so readily pull them out if he knew where they came from.
He wordlessly put the tea bags into the cups, sliding one over on the island to where you stood. Then he brought the cup to his lips, taking a sip of the scalding liquid like it was nothing. You ignored your disbelief and the rational part of your brain, picking the cup to do the same thing.
When the tea met your tongue, it burned, even as it went down your throat, but you still went back in for a second sip, anyway. This pain was able to distract you from all the thoughts bouncing around in your head, and so that made it feel like it was worth it. You wondered if this was Finnick’s logic, too.
You didn’t say anything for a long while, didn’t ask about Annie or where she went. You knew he must’ve known that you heard what happened, but he didn’t mention it, either. You assumed that she fell asleep.
You wished you could fall asleep so easily, too.
Your song kept playing as you both danced around the same topics, standing together silently as your world crumbled. You danced, and danced, and danced, until your tea cups were empty, but the song was still playing.
Finnick’s voice cut through the silence of your music effortlessly, even though he was still so quiet.
“Sometimes, I think she would’ve been better off if she died.” You slowly brought your head up to meet his eyes, but they were aimed at the cup in his hand. He looked nothing like the Prince of Panem, the charming man who always had something witty to say. No, he looked beaten down, just as lifeless as Annie. Maybe you looked as lifeless as you felt, too; maybe you were all so unaware of how broken you seemed.
You didn’t know what to say to his confession. So you didn’t say anything at all.
You’d never know where that conversation would’ve went, because in seconds, Finnick collected your cups, put them in the sink, and then he left you standing there.
His words from before echoed through your head. We will never be free, Y/N.
And maybe he was right.
Annie was back home, but she never really came back from that arena—none of you did. Hell, you were thrusted into a life you never wanted, a victor’s life, as soon as you were out. You thanked God that Annie wasn’t gonna have to go through what you did; the way she was spinning out made her undesirable. At least a good thing came out of her losing it.
Oh, you were starting to find a silver-lining with everything. You had to—otherwise, you’d lose it, just like Annie. You had to find some sort of good in this situation because, otherwise, what was the point?
Time supposedly healed all wounds, but you felt like you were still bleeding. You just learned to conceal it better than others.
Before The Games, you had friends. Now you really only talked to Finnick, and you two didn’t talk much, either. Every now and then, you’d see Annie and Mags, but they weren’t your people. And your family… well, how close could you be with them after what happened? You weren’t the same girl your mother raised.
She could barely even look at you anymore.
But you couldn’t think about any of this. If you did, you’d fall apart, and you couldn’t do that. You had a role to play, an image to protect—for your safety, for your family’s safety, for his safety.
You couldn’t afford to break down like that in your living room and throw things. You wanted to, so badly, but you didn’t have that luxury.
So your song kept playing, and you danced along with it.
Finnick’s walls went back up, too. His charisma was like a light bulb that briefly flickered, but it was back now. He was dancing, too. But, without even realizing it, you both held each other tighter at night, as if you were trying not to lose the other to the tornado that was your life.
However, when you woke up, you both pretended the tornado didn’t even exist.
Annie wasn’t one for pretending. Oh, she got wrapped up into the tornado the second she was declared a victor and there was no saving her anymore. Yes, she would’ve been better off dead, maybe you all would’ve been, but if you thought about this for too long, if you let the song stop, then you’d get caught in the cyclone, too.
You pretended for a year, attending Capitol galas with a smile on your face, getting interviewed right next to Finnick with his hand in yours, acting like you were the picture perfect couple. He spoke about you like he knew you like the back of his hand, but truth be told, he didn’t know you at all; he barely ever tried to. You didn’t blame him, though; it was hard to try to talk to someone when the music was so loud.
Then came the 71st Hunger Games, and you were mentors again. Meeting the tributes, it was almost like the music stopped- almost. The girl was quiet but angry, and she reminded you so much of yourself. The boy kept cracking jokes that she didn’t laugh at, jokes that were probably inappropriate for a time like this, but you knew he wasn’t doing it to be an ass. This was his way of coping.
He reminded you of Finnick.
Looking at these kids was like looking into a mirror. On the last day of training, he finally got a reaction out of her, made her smile with a faint blush on her cheeks. Oh, these kids should’ve been laughing together in the diner back home, not on their way to die.
They were too young and too innocent. It makes you wonder if things would’ve been different if you and Finnick had met before The Games. Would that have made soothed the heartbreak?
You didn’t know. But when you saw that boy crying as he held her in that arena, blood pouring onto him from her stab-wound, you knew that heartbreak was what he felt.
Too young. They were too young.
The boy died too. He didn’t even put up a fight.
These kids were just kids, and they died young.
Just like you and Finnick did.
You sat in your room at the Capitol, swirling your scotch around in your glass. It was a crystal glass so beautiful you knew it could’ve only been crafted by hand, but you didn’t want to admire it; you wanted to throw it at the wall.
Their names were Delta and Aalto. Aalto was the more talkative one; he said he dreamed of opening his own bakery one day, right in the middle of the district with food that everyone could afford and enjoy.
He’d never get to do that now.
And Delta- she didn’t know what she wanted out of life yet. She never got the chance to figure it out.
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair at all.
The door to the room opened, making you look up from the liquor in your hand to see Finnick walking into the room. He looked defeated. Of course, he was better at hiding it than you were, but you knew how to read him better now, after all these years.
The bed dipped as he sat down next to you. You held your glass out, almost like a peace offering, and he took it without much thought, downing it in one go.
You sat there together the same way you had many times before, not saying a word. But this time felt different. It felt like there was something you were supposed to say. So you turned to look at Finnick, trying to see if he felt the same weight, only to see that he was already looking at you.
You could tell just by his eyes that he felt it, too. He opened his mouth, then closed it like he’d lost his train of thought. When you met him, you never thought you’d see the day when Finnick was speechless.
Look at how wrong you were.
You opened your mouth after a few seconds, wanting to articulate your feelings in some way, but Finnick’s lips slammed against yours before you get anything out. Without thinking, you kissed back; it felt like second-nature to you.
This wasn’t the first time you’d kissed, but he had never kissed you like this, so passionately, not a camera in sight. He was kissing you like you were air and he’d been holding his breath for so long, like you were the treasure he’d been searching for and he didn’t want to let go.
It felt like nothing you’d ever experienced.
When you eventually pulled away for air and opened your eyes, you were brought back to the real world. There was something you were supposed to say. But you quickly disregarded it, pulling him back in for another kiss before he could notice the way you were looking at him.
Yes, there was something you were supposed to say. But you couldn’t put it into words.
So you hoped that this kiss said everything that you couldn’t.
You were both grieving, and you were both there. And you knew that Finnick didn’t like you like that, so you weren’t gonna get your hopes up. This meant nothing, even if it felt like everything for you when it was happening.
He was the only person you’d ever done anything like this with before. You did things with those people Snow set you up with, but that didn’t count. You were doing this because you wanted to. You didn’t know if this was his first time or not, but you weren’t gonna ask. You did everything but talk for the rest of the night.
When you woke up, it was still dark out and Finnick was still asleep. You stared at him for a few seconds, his fluffy blond hair that you messed up, his swollen lips. He looked so peaceful like this; you couldn’t bear to wake him up and ruin that, bring him back to this nightmare.
So you got up as quietly as you could, wrapping yourself in a robe and closing the door to the bedroom, walking into the living room. The rooms the Capitol provided the victors were beautiful, but never beautiful enough to make you forget about the ugly reason that you were here.
You sat on the couch, exhaling and leaning back. You were gonna sit there in silence, but your song kept playing, and the record was skipping, and you were starting to get a headache, so you turned on the TV.
Without having to change the channel at all, you were immediately met with the news, Caesar Flickerman’s face on the flat screen. It wasn’t long before you realized why he was so excited: the Hunger Games were over. Someone won.
Caesar’s attitude made your mood go sour. He was behaving like twenty-three children weren’t just killed. It didn’t matter if they died of starvation, dehydration, an animal, or actually another tribute—it was all murder, and the Capitol was the perpetrator. It disgusted you that there were people who found enjoyment in watching these Games, Caesar Flickerman included. They’d pretend to be sympathetic, but at the end of the day, you were all just circus animals to them.
The victor’s face came onto the TV, and you immediately recognized her from the rankings. Johanna Mason. Caesar kept talking, explaining how Johanna had managed to cause so many people to be enamoured of her, and you suddenly felt sick.
Snow was gonna jump at this opportunity. He was gonna use her, too.
You turned off the TV, going back to your room and getting back into bed like you’d never left. Your song came back on, and you went back to preferring to listen to it instead of your own thoughts. You weren’t gonna think about Johanna much longer; there wasn’t any point.
There was nothing you could do.
The next time you woke up and it was actually morning, you were surprised to see that Finnick was still there. While you were sleeping, he managed to snake his arms around you.
You didn’t get up, even though there were Capitol duties to attend to.
You stayed in bed and pretended that you were a normal couple, that maybe Finnick actually felt something for you, that you weren’t in the Capitol right now, that the world wasn’t so fucked up, that you weren’t so fucked up. But you didn’t pretend for long, eventually getting up and facing the world that you didn’t want to be apart of but had been sucked into.
He didn’t tell you this, but he was pretending, too.
You both went to the gatherings you had to go to, talked to the people you had to talk to, kept smiles on your faces, and shook Snow’s hand, even though it made you want to puke. You endured it all—you both did. The Prince and Princess of Panem…
You realized it was true what they said, heavy is the head that wears the crown. This figurative crown was weighing you down; you wondered if it’d be so coveted if people got the chance to feel how you felt.
Then you went back home, even if it didn’t really feel like a home to you. It was still all you had. But Finnick kept surprising you.
Your dance suddenly changed. The song was still playing, but the dance was different, almost like that night you’d spent together had actually meant something.
You started having dinner together every night. Before, you often forgot to eat, but now how could you? You were beginning to look forward to your daily dinners; there wasn’t much more to look forward to in the life you led.
He made it hard for you not to fall even more in love with him.
You two still didn’t talk during dinner, but it almost did feel normal, like you were a family- like you could be a family.
And then the dance changed again, and that dream felt even more real.
You pulled your chair out at your dinner table, sitting down across from Finnick. You were both dressed “down” in more comfortable clothes, but you knew there was some people in the district that still couldn’t afford them. That bothered you, but when you had dinner, most of your worries were pushed to the back of your mind.
When you two had dinner, you just enjoyed the dance.
You were a few minutes into dinner when you noticed that Finnick wasn’t eating but he was staring at you. He hadn’t stared at you like that since when you first met, so curiously, like you were a secret he wanted to be let in on.
You couldn’t ignore his stare, even if you tried. However, you tried to act nonchalant. “Is there something you want to say?” You quizzed, twirling another bite of pasta like you were unaffected by his gaze.
Finnick responded in the same beat, so much like the Finnick that was charismatic and lively, not the quiet one you normally lived with. “Something I want to ask you, actually.”
“Oh,” you said, immediately kicking yourself at how stupid you sounded. “Well, ask away.” He didn’t need to be told twice.
“What’s your favourite colour?”
You were caught off guard by his question, blinking like you were trying to figure out if you just imagined him saying him that or if he really did. He blinked back at you but never faltered.
“What?”
He repeated himself, slower this time. “What is your favourite colour?” You blinked again when you realized he was being totally serious. “You know, colours, like a rainbow-”
“I know what colours are, Finnick.”
“Ohhhh.” His eyes got big as if he thought you actually didn’t know what a rainbow was. “Sorry, you were just looking at me like I had said the most absurd thing you’ve ever heard. So what’s your favourite colour?”
You couldn’t stop the corners of your lips going up as his grin just got wider. God, you hadn’t seen him smile like that in so long. It actually looked real.
You thought about it for a second, looking right into his eyes when you came up with an answer. “It’s blue, not really dark or light either. Sort of green- it’s close to grey, too.”
He looked at you for a few seconds before blurting, “Y/N, that sounds like the least vibrant shade of blue I’ve ever heard of.”
You laughed. “It’s vibrant to me!” He laughed, too, shaking his head like you were crazy. That shade of blue that you described was more vibrant than any other blue you’d ever seen. You could never tired of looking at it whenever you looked into Finnick’s eyes.
When the laughter died down, you asked him the same question. “Okay, now what’s your favourite colour?”
He shrugged. “Don’t have one.”
You scoffed, “Oh, come. on. You have to have a favourite colour; you can’t be that boring.”
“That boring? I’m not boring at all,” he argued, a look of faux offence on his face.
You snorted. “I beg to differ.”
“I can make you beg a lot more if you don’t take that back.” Your eyes immediately went wide and, against your will, a faint redness spread on your cheeks.
“What?”
“You heard me,” he said, crossing his arms. He looked pleased at the reaction he got out of you. “Take it back.”
You scoffed again, but you weren’t sure if it was because of your stubbornness or because you wanted to see how far you could push him. “I’m not taking anything back.”
He just stared at you for a few seconds before flashing that famous smirk of his, dimples appearing in his cheeks. “Really?”
You crossed your arms, too, nodding. “Mhm.”
He chuckled. “We’ll see if you still feel that way in the morning.”
And then he spent the rest of the night showing you just how boring he wasn’t.
The day after, you didn’t wake up dejected but instead with a smile on your face. You didn’t get out of bed at all, staying in Finnick’s arms. You felt giddy, like a school girl. There were no thoughts of his lack of feelings for you, Annie, or The Games. You just laid there and enjoyed the moment.
It didn’t even feel like you were pretending.
When Finnick woke up, you did it all over again. You ended up staying in bed all day together, cancelling your plans.
And when the time came to get out of bed, to go back to the real world, the music didn’t go back to normal. It was more upbeat now. You kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the beat to drop, but it didn’t.
Finnick didn’t pretend like you two sleeping together never happened. In fact, you two kept doing it almost every day. You actually had conversations during dinner. You learned basic things about him that you hadn’t known in all of the time you were living together.
He made you laugh often. You stopped crying so much.
Is this what happiness feels like? you wondered. If it was, you never wanted anything different. Whatever Finnick felt for you, it didn’t matter. As long as he kept making you happy, it didn’t matter.
You were so in love with him that it stopped mattering if he reciprocated your feelings. You didn’t want anything to ruin this, what you had. Your relationship was the most special thing you’d ever had, even if you didn’t know what to call it, so you were gonna do your damn best to hold onto it.
The things he’d say in front of the cameras felt real, then the things he did when you were alone made you believe it even more. Whatever this was between you, it felt real.
So real.
You were stirring something on the stove when two arms snaked around your waist, tickling you, making a squeal fly from your lips. “Finnick!” You screeched, trying to suppress your giggles as you turned around. The culprit (who was shirtless) didn’t look guilty at all, a shit-eating grin on his face. You shoved his shoulder. “I am trying to cook us breakfast.”
He snorted. “Yeah, trying and failing.” You shoved him again, causing him to laugh. “I’m sorry, you can’t cook!”
You crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes. “I’ll have you know, I can cook very well, actually.”
He wrapped his arms around you again. “You know, you’re cute when you pout.”
“I’m not pouting!” You exclaimed, but a blush still arose on your cheeks that Finnick noticed right away. It was almost like he was always watching for those types of things, always trying to say or do something to get you red.
“You’re even cuter when you blush.”
Your blush worsened, but you weren’t gonna give him the satisfaction of your defeat. “I’m not blushing. We’re in a kitchen, and it’s hot.”
He pulled you closer to him, grin widening. “Don’t lie to yourself, sweetheart, about your blushing or your cooking.” He glanced behind you. “Oh, look, burnt food.”
Your eyes went wide, immediately turning around. You groaned when you saw the brown eggs and the trail of smoke coming from them. “It’s all your fault, Finn, you distracted me.”
He gave your head a kiss, rubbing his hands up and down your arms. “Sure, darling, whatever you say.” Luckily, you were turned away from him so he couldn’t see how your cheeks reddened. You still weren’t used to the pet names, even though Finnick seemed to adore them. “Let’s leave the cooking to me from now on.”
You lightly scoffed, “Whatever.” He kissed your cheek before you started walking away, planning to sit on the couch while you waited for him to cook the food. You didn’t have to look at him to know he was probably smug.
“Who messes up eggs?” he muttered under his breath once you were a few feet away.
“I heard that, Finnick!” you shouted, but he only let out a loud laugh.
You shook your head at him, plopping down onto the couch in the adjoining living room and turning the TV on, but it was really just background noise. You found it much more enticing to watch Finnick cook. The way he moved so swiftly looked effortless; he knew what he was doing, that was sure. And it didn’t help that he was shirtless.
You discreetly stared at him for a while—or, you thought you were being discreet. Without looking up from what he was doing, he teased, “You know that I can feel you ogling at me, right?”
You went red as a tomato. “Shut up, Finnick!” you shrieked, turning back to the TV as if you even knew what was playing. His laugh boomed and you turned up the volume to tune it out, only causing him to laugh even louder.
Even though you were thoroughly embarrassed that he’d caught you staring at him, a smile still found its way onto your face. Around Finnick, it was hard not find a reason to smile.
You’d be content if you didn’t do anything for the rest of your life but wake up to him every day.
You spent many more mornings like that together, and lunches, and dinners, and everything in between. You exchanged jokes and playful banter constantly. Finnick really did make your cheeks hurt.
But he knew when to be serious.
There were still nights when you’d wake up from nightmares, and he’d comfort you back to sleep every time. When you caught him in a nightmare, you’d try your best to repay the favour, even though that didn’t happen often. He rarely wanted you to see him like that, so he hid his nightmares, but you did everything you could to keep him happy while he was awake to make up for it.
When you went to the Capitol, all of the darkness crept back in, squeezing in through the cracks of the walls that you’d built—for both of you. But you kept each other grounded. You weren’t alone.
Once, he had to talk you back from the edge as you had a panic attack in the bathroom. He locked the door and stayed there with you until you calmed down. You told him that you saw someone you hadn’t seen up close in a while, an old patron, and that just opened the floodgates. You saw his hands ball up into fists; he tried to hide the anger on his face, but you saw it and you understood it.
He was angry at the Capitol, and so were you. He’d been through the same things you had, and that made it so much easier to cope, to have someone that understood. He understood for you and you understood for him, and so when things were bad, they at least became more okay. As long as you were there for each other, things were okay.
Meeting Johanna Mason at a later event nearly brought you right back to the brink. Her family was dead, she’d told you. And you wished you hadn’t understood so fast. You wished that none of you ever had to understand these things, that you could’ve stayed kids for longer before childhood was ripped away from you.
It’s not fair, you cried to Finnick. He killed her family. She said no, and he killed her family.
He let you cry on his shoulder, rubbing his hand up and down your back as he whispered, I know. It’s not fair, I know. But it was the world you lived in, and, unfortunately, neither of you had the power to do anything about it, even though you were the so called Prince and Princess of Panem.
So you did what you could. You were there for Johanna like how you were there for Finnick when you still didn’t know him. Both of you were there for her, teaching her the moves to your dance so she could dance with you while you were all at the Capitol together.
She was brutally honest, maybe even rude to the average onlooker, but it was what The Games did to her. Finnick and you understood that, and that led to you both forming a friendship with her. Coping with other people, people who understood, was the best painkiller that not even money could provide.
The Games were the hardest, but you went through that together, too. You trained those tributes with everything you had. You tried your best, but sometimes, not even that was enough to keep them alive. Finnick and you would grieve together. At times, he was more rational than you, reminding you that it wasn’t your fault, that these were games made to kill.
Whatever you went through, you went through it together. The good days, the bad days, the laughs, the tears—you were together every step of the way.
Things went like this for years. You really were a team, and nothing could convince you otherwise this time. You loved him more and more each day, but you never told him that; you didn’t need to, and you didn’t need him to love you, either. Being there, being together was good enough.
Your song never got old. You were so in sync as you danced. Oh, you never would’ve thought that Finnick Odair of all people would not only make your life bearable, but also joyful.
You were fake boyfriend and girlfriend, and yeah those lines started to blur, but you also became best friends over time.
Finnick and you lied together in bed, the TV going on in the background. Your head was on his chest as he pet your hair. It was your seventh time doing this mentor thing, but it never seemed to get easier.
Your tributes were promising, but they still died early on, even though you both got them as many sponsors as you could. Mentors were usually down in the lobby, talking to sponsors and watching The Games with everyone else, but after your tributes died, there was no point.
So you went upstairs, and you both just lied there. It was one of those times where neither of you had to say anything. You were together, alive together, and that was enough.
Listening to Finnick’s heartbeat could calm you down in any situation. You must’ve been doing something to help him, too, because his heartbeat was steady. You stayed like that for a bit until he moved a bit, murmuring under his breath, “What?”
He sat up, making you sit up, too, while he grabbed the remote, turning the volume up. You glanced at it and the scene immediately caught your attention. You heard the last bits of what the announcer was saying, that a rule about two victors was being annulled. Your brows furrowed; you must not have seen the part where any such thing was declared.
You recognized the tributes who you quickly realized were the last people left standing. They were the kids from district 12, the Girl on Fire and the boy in love with her.
You scoffed. “Of course, they want the star-crossed lovers to battle to the death.” You were about to turn away, refusing to indulge in the Capitol’s bullshit, but Finnick grabbed onto your arm.
“Wait.”
You stopped, turning back. The girl, Katniss, had a bow and arrow in her hands. Peeta was a few steps away from her. They were both staring at each other, Katniss looking like she didn’t know what do, but Peeta looked like he already accepted that he was going to die.
You didn’t want to watch this, watch two people fall apart on television, but for some reason, this had captured Finnick’s attention.
One of us should go home, he said. One of us has to die; they have to have their victor. Katniss was already shaking her head.
No. She dropped her arrow to the ground, walking forward. They don’t.
You tilted your head, but you understood what was happening when she pulled a handful of berries from her pocket. “Holy shit.”
Peeta grabbed her hand, rejecting the idea immediately, but she whispered, Trust me. He must’ve really been in love with her, because he did. She poured some berries into the palm of his hand, making you lean closer.
“You don’t think they’re gonna…” you trailed off, puzzled. There were people that’d killed themselves in past games, but this had never happened. There was always a victor.
Peeta hesitated, but looked sure when he looked back into Katniss’ eyes. Together? he mumbled.
She repeated his words. Together. She looked up for a second, and then you suddenly recognized the look on her face. This was a bluff.
They counted down from three, and just as they were gonna bring the berries to their mouths, the announcer frantically cut in, Stop- stop! He cleared his throat. Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the winners… of the 74th Annual Hunger Games.
Relief flooded into Katniss’ eyes as she embraced Peeta in a hug. Shock flowed through you, and Finnick’s expression was no different.
Once you had processed the information, you couldn’t help the grin that grew on your face, disbelief and pride filling you at the same time. “They just screwed the Capitol.”
You turned to see him smirking. “Hell yeah, they did.”
And this made your Hunger Games experience just a little bit better.
Neither of you were surprised that Seneca Crane was found dead days later. He made a grave mistake, letting two victors win. Snow wouldn’t have that, and you could guess why.
What Katniss and Peeta did was causing chatter, sparking hope. People in district 4 were more hush-hush about it, but outlying districts, like 11, had gone into revolts. The Capitol must’ve been stressed, and knowing that brought you some sick form of comfort.
Katniss and Peeta were spinning their actions, making them out to be this act of love, like they couldn’t bear to live without each other, but you and Finnick saw right through it. After all, if there was anyone who could spot a fake relationship, it was you two.
However, the two love-birds flew from your mind when you got home. You were brought back to your little world, living life alongside Finnick. The urge grew to ask him what you were, if you were still in a fake relationship just like Katniss and Peeta or if this was real, as real as you felt it was, but you didn’t wanna mess up the one good thing you had going.
The truth was, you don’t know how long you would’ve made it without him.
Finnick was your lifeline, and he had no idea.
The next time you were at the Capitol, you were in the Presidential Palace for the so called biggest party of the year. It was always hosted right before the Hunger Games, so being there gave you many things to be anxious about.
But, like always, you concealed it, smiling and shaking hands with the people you came across, even as you were disgusted. Some of these people, the very people who paid for your body at sixteen, were there with their families. You wondered how they could have children and still do what they did.
You were a child, too.
Normally, Finnick would be there to calm you down, but he snuck off somewhere without telling you.
You were wandering around, trying to find him when a head of brown hair streaked with red came into your view. “Hey, Princess.”
A sigh left your lips, both out of relief that you found someone you knew and discontent at the nickname. “Hey, Jo.” You would usually make conversation with her, but you were pretty distracted, glancing around behind her. “Have you seen Finnick anywhere? I’ve been looking for him for a while now.”
When you looked back to her, a look you couldn’t decipher flashed across her face, but it was gone in an instant. “No, can’t say I have.”
For some reason, you got a weird feeling from her. It was almost like she knew something that you didn’t.
“Hey, why don’t we go grab a bite while we wait for him?” She suggested, gesturing to the buffet. “I’m starving.”
You shook your head, dazed. “I’ll catch up with you- I’m just gonna go to the bathroom.”
She perked up. “I’ll go with you.”
You were quick to decline. “No, that’s fine; go eat. I’ll be back in a sec.” She was hesitant for reasons you couldn’t fathom, but she eventually nodded, agreeing to meet you later.
You walked through the halls, passing the bathrooms and not even sparing them a glance. You didn’t really know why you lied about where you were going, but in that moment, it felt like instinct. You trusted Johanna, but you were catching the same weird vibe from countless other people. All you wanted was to find Finnick and have him tell you everything was alright.
You didn’t have to look long before you found him, outside along with many other partygoers. But he wasn’t alone. Standing next to him was a man you’d just recently seen on TV. You just couldn’t remember his name.
You made your way over to them. They cut themselves off as soon as they saw you, not letting you overhear a single detail of whatever they were talking about. You stifled the reappearance of that weird feeling that was starting to feel a lot like suspicion. “Sorry to interrupt, gentlemen.”
Finnick waved you off, “No, it’s fine, sweetheart.” He pulled you into his side, kissing your temple. “This is Plutarch Heavensbee.” A lightbulb went off in your head as you looked to the man.
He was Seneca Crane’s replacement.
What the hell was Finnick doing talking to him?
“It’s an honour and a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Y/L/N,” he greeted, holding his hand out. There was something about him that was throwing you off, not just your revelation of who he was, but you still shook his hand.
“Pleasure’s mine, Mr. Heavensbee,” you replied, smiling your umpteenth fake smile of the night. But you had an inkling that no one in the Capitol was as genuine as they seemed.
Plutarch didn’t try to stay and make small talk like the rest of the people you encountered at the Capitol, bidding you both farewell and wishing you a good night. Something told you his departure had something to do with your arrival.
Once he was out of earshot, you turned in Finnick’s arms. “Was that the new head Gamemaker?” He nodded, but didn’t offer any explanation. You furrowed your brows. “What were you talking about?”
Finnick shrugged nonchalantly, but for some reason, he seemed tense. “He wanted to meet the youngest victor of The Games.”
You found that hard to believe, holding back a scoff. “Well, he didn’t seem too interested in meeting me.”
A smile arose on his face as he wrapped his arms back around your waist. “That is because you, darling, are not the youngest person to ever win.”
This time, you did scoff, but the tense atmosphere dissipated. “You’re a dick.”
“You love me.” Your heart nearly stopped, but you kept your composure. You did love him, more than he’d ever know.
You shook your head, acting unaffected. “C’mon, Johanna’s waiting for us by the buffet.” You tried walking away, but your faux façade of annoyance was broken by Finnick latching onto your hand and walking forward with you, chuckling.
And then the entire matter of everyone’s weird behaviour was pushed to the back of your mind.
Returning home from the Capitol was always peaceful, like a weight being lifted off your shoulders, but this time was unlike any of those other times. When you got home, the so called peace that the Capitol so delicately crafted was ripping at the seams.
The chatter from before, from when Katniss and Peeta defied the Capitol, was louder than ever. They had just gone on their victor’s tour, right before you left for the Presidential Palace, and they had apparently sparked a reaction in just about every district they visited, yours included.
You found out that district 4 had been in a revolt since Everdeen and Mellark came and gave their speech. The people were outraged. The news talked about seafood shortages due to bad weather, but the Capitol just didn’t want to let Panem know what was going on, that people were refusing work, that Peacekeepers were murdering innocent people left and right for the smallest of incidents.
When you were all caught up with what had happened, you were furious, too. You wanted to march out onto the streets and give the Capitol the finger, but Finnick pulled you back.
“What are you gonna do, Y/N?” he questioned, not even giving you the time to answer. “You don’t even know.”
Your voice was vicious as you responded, a tone you’d never given him. You were angry, and you both knew you weren’t thinking clearly; you just didn’t care. “I don’t know right now, but I’m gonna do something, Finnick.” You tried pulling your arm away, but he was much stronger than you.
“I’m not gonna let you go out there and get yourself killed.” You could tell by his demeanour that he was angry, but not for the same reasons that you were.
You shook your head. “You of all people should understand where I’m coming from.”
His eyes went hard. “You must not know me well if you think I’d let my girlfriend kill herself.” That shut you up.
His girlfriend.
He called you his girlfriend.
You got over the shock and, suddenly, you were even more angry than before. While you could pretend all you wanted to that you lived in candy-land, the cruel reality was still there. Finnick didn’t love you. He was only playing with your emotions.
Tears built up in your eyes: sad tears, angry tears—they were everything tears. You felt everything. “I’m your girlfriend now?”
He scoffed, “Oh, come on, Y/N. You can’t be serious right now.”
“I am so serious right now.”
At your deadpan, he finally let go of your arm, running a hand through his hair. A part of you felt bad that he was so stressed, but you were stressed, too. He looked like he was trying to figure out what to say when he looked back up at you. His voice was no longer harsh, but small. “Y/N, please.”
You swallowed.
“I’m just asking you to trust me.” He grabbed onto your hands. “Please just trust me.” He was begging you.
“Trust you to do what?”
“I just need you to trust me, Y/N, please.” He held your hands tighter. “Trust me.”
Oh, it didn’t matter how angry you were, if your thoughts were set in stone. Finnick would still be able to mold you like clay. Every time.
“I trust you.”
There was something different about him, but you were too distracted to try and figure it out.
There were so many things going on.
You were with Annie when it happened. Oh, that must have been some cruel joke from the universe. You were walking through the town square, on your way to Victors’ Village with pastries from the bakery in your hands. You were slowed down by the all of the people congregating together, watching the screen.
President Snow was announcing the third Quarter Quell, and they were eating it up. You weren’t gonna do that, entertain his lunacy. You’d go the Capitol and play your role, but you weren’t gonna watch these broadcasts anymore. You weren’t gonna play along.
Finnick could explain it to you later so you’d be able to prep your tributes. The Quells were always made out to be the hallmark of The Games; they were always harder. You felt for whatever kids would have to go through them.
You felt a lot more once you realized who these tributes were gonna be.
You weren’t listening to what Snow was was saying, but his words cut through any sort of mental block you had. “On this, the third Quarter Quell Games, the male and female tributes are… to be reaped from the existing pool of victors in each district.”
Your stopped walking as if you’d hit a wall, the stuff in your hands falling the ground, but it was almost like you didn’t hear it. You stopped hearing anything, not Snow explaining the condition or everyone’s gasps. Your ears rang. Everything was muffled like you were underwater.
You were done. You were supposed to be done. You went through those Games, you won, and now you were supposed to be done.
He was gonna make you go through it all over again.
You were so shocked that you pinched yourself, like you were a child and this was some nightmare, and even though you didn’t wake up, even though you knew you were awake, you were still caught in a nightmare that you’d have to die to escape from.
Your senses came back to you and you spun around, pulling Annie into a tight hug the second you saw the tears streaming down her face. She muttered the same thing over and over into your shoulder.
“This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening.”
She couldn’t go through this again. The Games broke her beyond repair. She couldn’t mentor because of it; she could barely ever attend any of the Capitol parties you and Finnick frequented. She would die in that arena, either mentally or physically.
You couldn’t let that happen.
Your song played on a loop in your mind, making the decision for you. You were reminded that, even though your dance may have changed, Finnick didn’t love you. He loved Annie, and he would be destroyed if she died.
You couldn’t let that happen.
You couldn’t let Mags go back into the arena, either. He needed her. These were the only people he cared about; you couldn’t let them go through this.
Then and there, you decided your fate.
You were gonna be the one to go back into the arena, and no one was gonna stop you.
When you and Annie had made it to your house, ignoring all of the looks of pity thrown your way, Finnick looked just as beaten down as you, but not surprised. You didn’t have time to analyze that.
He hugged Annie first, shooting you an apologetic look, but you didn’t understand what it was for. You knew what Annie meant to him.
You weren’t so deluded that you’d believe you came before her. Besides, she needed to be consoled more than you did. You were calm. Annie was lost right now, but you knew exactly where you were headed.
That night, once Annie left, your clothes came off, and you and Finnick had the softest sex you ever had. It was gentle, and you let yourself feel loved one last time. You let yourself be selfish and have this one thing, just one last time.
You knew that the odds of coming out of that arena were slim, so you kissed Finnick like you were gonna die the very next day. I just might, you thought. And then as you fell asleep in his arms, you pretended that everything was alright. You pretended that your dance wasn’t gonna end so soon, that you weren’t gonna sign your life away when you woke up, that Finnick really loved you, that he loved you just as much as you loved him. You pretended one last time.
The next day, you and all of the other victors walked to the Hall of Justice, escorted by a dozen Peacekeepers. There were so many male tributes. As terrible as it sounded, you were praying that it’d be one of them that was chosen, not Finnick. If he was, then you would throw away any chance you had of winning.
If he went in with you, then he’d be the one walking out.
Cassia Locke stood in the middle of the stage, in between the male and female victors. You found it funny, almost: you were victors, but now the Capitol was gonna rip that refuge away after they’d already taken everything from you.
Cassia was just another mutt in your eyes. She was district 4’s Capitol escort; she was meant to be an advisor, but she didn’t do that well, not for you or the other tributes you mentored. But you supposed you couldn’t be too surprised. Her job was to make spectacles, not survivors.
However, she almost looked human for a moment, glancing at the women sympathetically before she pulled out a folded paper from the bowl. You stood on edge; there were only three of you. Unbeknownst to you, Finnick also stood straighter in trepidation.
She cleared her throat, announcing, “The female tribute for the 75th Annual Hunger Games and third Quarter Quell is… Annie Cresta.”
Annie’s face fell, but you quickly stepped forward. “I volunteer as tribute.”
“Y/N, what are you doing?” Annie whispered, putting a hand on your shoulder, but you brushed her off and ignored her.
Cassia nodded. “Very well, then.” She moved back to the bowl. “Now for the males.”
You glanced over to see that Finnick was already looking at you, an unknown emotion written all over his face, though you realized what it was quickly. Betrayal.
You were confused why. If anything, he should’ve been relieved.
“The male tribute for the 75th Annual Hunger Games will be…” she unfolded the paper, “Finnick Odair.”
Your heart dropped. That wasn’t supposed to happen.
The universe must’ve hated you.
Finnick’s mask was back on. Any trace of emotion on his face was erased and replaced with the cocky, charming façade that he’d perfected. He smirked as if he wasn’t just chosen for the most brutal “game” there ever was, like there was nothing to be worried about.
He was so good at pretending. Maybe even better than you.
You both walked toward the centre of the stage simultaneously, routinely. You’ve danced this dance before.
“Ladies and gentlemen, our tributes for the Hunger Games.”
Right after that, Peacekeepers came from the side, trying to grab at your arms, but you shook them off. “We know where to go,” you said. You don’t know if it was the your tone of voice or the look on your face, but they actually listened.
You were escorted into an inactive chamber, the same one you were brought to for your first Games. Memories flashed through your mind before you shook them away. You couldn’t get PTSD right before you went into this.
Finnick was stoic as he stared you, but before either of you could say anything, Mags and Annie came rushing into the room. Annie took you by surprise, immediately engulfing you tightly.
She was still crying, but manage to blubber out through her tears, “Why- why would you do that?”
You rubbed her back. “Annie-”
“Why would you do that for me? It was supposed to be me. Supposed to be me, supposed to be me.” She kept repeating herself over and over, shaking in your arms.
From the corner of your eye, you saw Finnick and Mags watching you. “It’s gonna be okay, Annie,” you told her, but you knew it was a lie. “I’m gonna be fine.” You weren’t.
As if she knew this, she only cried harder. You didn’t know what else to say, so you just kept rubbing her back, hoping that she’d calm down. Eventually, she stopped shaking, but tears kept flowing from her eyes like a waterfall. She tried to wipe them away, but they just kept coming.
She sniffled, going over to hug Finnick, then hugging you one last time before she left. “Take care of each other- please,” she asked, and you weren’t thinking of doing anything but.
You nodded, assuring her that you would do just that. Mags hugged you, saying the words she couldn’t express through her gaze. You could tell that neither of them wanted to leave, but they had to.
Only one of you was gonna come back, and that was gonna be hard to come to terms with.
They left, and then it was just you and Finnick. The music kept playing, and playing, and playing, and you weren’t sure you could take it anymore. You didn’t want to hear this song ever again if it could be your last time listening.
If you could have it your way, you’d dance together until the end of time. But forever was never promised, not in the world you lived in.
The silence, however, felt like it lasted a forever in the moment, so you broke it. “Can you say something?” Finnick just kept staring at you in a way he had never looked at you before. The music got louder. Tears came to your eyes. “Please.”
Maybe he took pity on you, because he did say something. You just weren’t sure if it was any better than the silence. “Why would you do that?” His voice was cold.
You felt cold.
You swallowed. “Finn-”
“Why would you volunteer?” He stepped closer to you, so much venom seeping through his tone that you thought you were gonna be sick. “Annie was going to go-”
You cut him off, throwing your hands up. “You saw her, Finnick. She’s a mess.”
“She was going to be fine-”
“She can’t go through The Games again!” You shouted, losing it. Why was he berating you as if you didn’t just save the love of his life? “It would kill whatever part of her is left.”
“She would’ve been fine. You would’ve been fine-”
“God, why do you care about what happens to me? Annie’s gonna be okay—you’re gonna be able to come home to her and build the family you’ve always wanted-”
He snapped. “You’re my family!” You recoiled like he just hit you with his words. It was like you’d been doused in cold water. Finnick sighed, running a hand through his hair. There was a beat where neither of you said anything, letting his revelation soak in.
But you didn’t know what that meant.
When he spoke up again, his voice was quieter. He didn’t look like the Finnick that smirked up on that stage; he looked defeated, not triumphant. “You’re my family, Y/N. Don’t you get that?” He looked back up at you. “I could’ve protected Annie in that arena, and you would’ve been safe, here—not there with me.”
You shook your head. “There is no protecting someone in an arena- you and I know that best.” You let a tear fall, smiling sadly. “You’re gonna come home, Finnick-”
“Stop.”
“You’re gonna come home and you’re gonna live a long life with Annie-”
“Stop it.”
“You have people to take care of. I don’t.”
“Y/N, stop it.”
Another tear. “You deserve this-”
“Stop it.” Finnick grabbed onto your shoulders. You didn’t even know he got so close. “I’m not gonna let you die in there. Do you hear me? You’re not dying.”
“Only one of us is coming back, Finn. It’s gonna be you.”
You don’t know if your eyes were just really that blurry or if there were actually tears in his eyes, too. “No, you are coming home-”
“Finni-”
He grabbed you tighter. “We are both coming home.” The dam in your eyes broke, and all of the tears you were trying to hold came flooding down your cheeks.
Why was he saying these things? He knew it was impossible.
“We are both coming home, Y/N, I swear,” he promised, but these were promises he couldn’t keep. These were things he couldn’t control. Why was he lying to you- why was he lying to himself?
You wanted to say all these things, to scream, to tell him that it wasn’t true, that you were going to die. But then you remembered every other time you lied in bed together, every time you kissed and held each other. You’ve been lying to yourself all along, pretending you could have a future together when, deep down, you knew that wasn’t the case.
So you held everything in, pulling Finnick to you and hugging him with everything you had. You were gonna let him pretend, just this last time.
You were gonna dance together one last time.
You spent the entire train ride in each other’s arms, only getting up to eat and go to the bathroom before getting back in bed. You didn’t have mentors—you were the mentors. You’d been here before already, and that was surreal in and of itself.
You thought you already won. But nobody ever won, did they?
Those games killed everyone, victors included.
The press was insane, but just as you expected it. You were the Prince and Princess of Panem; they didn’t want to watch you die. Turns out, people in the Capitol did have hearts; clearly, they weren’t all too functional.
This visit, in more ways than one, was completely different from any other time you’d been in the city. Instead of the graceful show you normally put on, waving and smiling, you were much more mute. You were gonna die, anyway, so what was the point of continuing to be a puppet?
Finnick was still his usual self, smirky and arrogant, but even his anger snuck through the cracks of his act. All of you were angry, all of the victors. You could tell just by the mere glances you’d gotten of them, by the news coverage. Nobody wanted to go into an arena and kill people, not even the Careers (who you’d admit were pretty crazy).
However, this was all still a show to the Capitol, with you as the unlucky cast. And the show had to go on.
You and Finnick were separated to be prepped by the “glam teams.” The first time around, you remember being scared, but now you were just bored.
You were sitting idly in the dressing room, waiting for your designer when a man walked in, making you raise a brow.
This was a designer, but not your designer.
“Wait, I know you.” You tilted your head as his face became more familiar to you. “You’re Cinna- you designed those outfits with the fire.”
Cinna nodded in a way that you perceived as both humble and prideful at the same time. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Princess.”
This elicited a bitter chuckle from you. “Please, call me Y/N.” You then stood up to shake his hand when your curiosity sparked. “Aren’t you Katniss’ designer?”
“Yes, but I’m also going to be designing your outfits, as well,” he replied. “The head Gamemaker requested it. You are the Princess, after all.”
The corners of your lips went up. Most people you met at the Capitol would beat around the bush, but this guy didn’t seem shy. It was refreshing. You teased, “Ah, and since I’m a princess, I get Panem’s best to dress me?”
Cinna chuckled a bit under his breath, but didn’t confirm or deny your comment. He dived straight into his plans, explaining what he wanted to for you with a twinkle in his eye that you noticed most artists had when speaking about their work. “I want to stay true to the district 4 theme, but I want to make a statement.”
“Yeah, I had a feeling.”
He smiled. “We’re gonna show the Capitol that they can’t control you.”
And then your little smile turned into a grin.
Cinna did not disappoint. You were in a golden, long-sleeve, grid shirt with holes where the squares were supposed to be; your velvet skirt was a dark blueish-green, skin-tight; and atop your head was a golden crown, decorated with blue jewels.
Of course, it wasn’t a normal outfit, but you were gonna save the theatrics for the parade.
Finnick was around somewhere, likely causing trouble while you were walking around, looking for Johanna. However, you ended up running into someone else.
“Peeta,” you called, and he turned around. He immediately reminded you of Finnick, a mask of charm hiding him. Although Peeta had only been at this for a year, he already knew how to play the game, unlike Katniss who was rather unapproachable.
“Y/N,” he greeted. He scrambled for something to say for a few seconds. “I heard about how you volunteered for that girl. It was really brave.”
You hummed, almost sarcastically. “You don’t have to suck up to me—it’s not like I bite.”
He got red, making you stifle a laugh. “That’s, uh- that’s not what I meant-”
“It’s fine, I get it,” you waved it off. “It’s probably intimidating to be here around all of us, just a year after you won.” He didn’t say anything, just awkwardly smiled. “You know, you don’t have to be scared. You have a lot of power ‘round here; you just need to learn how to wield it.”
He gave you a confused look, so you elaborated, “There’s power in the masses, Peeta. The people here love you.” You paused. “Use that.”
A look of realization crossed his face, and so you decided that you said all you needed to say. He thanked you, but his mind looked to be elsewhere. You nodded, then walked off to find your carriage.
Sure, the Capitol could try and treat you all like pieces on a chess board, but if you got rid of the board altogether, then there would be no game to play. You spoke to Peeta to help him realize that. It didn’t matter if you were all meant to be on different sides; until you got into that arena, you were all one team, and you were gonna try your hardest to stop The Games before they began.
If that didn’t work, then you would just have to concede. One way or another, you would make sure that Finnick made it out of that arena alive. Peeta reminded you an awful lot of him, and while you would otherwise be rooting for him, you would choose Finnick if it came down to it.
You met Finnick at the chariot not long after leaving Peeta. He was shirtless, wearing a skirt similar to your top, rope around his wrists like bracelets. If you weren’t about to go into this stupid parade, you would’ve probably been making out already, but you were far too worried to think about that.
You had Cinna to thank for calming your nerves, giving you something to look forward to. Once the parade had started and you were coming through, you pressed the button of the device he had given you and then your top went up in flames, disintegrating until you were just in a black bralette, revealing the swirls of blue they painted on your arms, resembling waves. The rope around Finnick’s wrists caught fire, too, burning up until there was nothing there.
The crowd cheered, chanting your names. The faintest of smirks grew on your lips, but you really had to stifle your enjoyment when you saw Snow staring your carriage down.
What you did symbolized freeing yourself of the shackles of the Capitol, of these stupid Games. They could try, but they wouldn’t control you.
You would’ve usually felt some sort of fear- hell, you were never so defiant just in fear of what they would do to you. But what more could they do to you? They were already going to kill you. You didn’t care anymore.
After the parade, you ran into Johanna who gave you a good laugh as she told you how she stripped in the elevator. You would’ve paid good money to see it, that was for sure. You also talked to a few other victors on your way back to your suite.
You’d been friends with many of these people for years and now the Capitol was just gonna try and pit you against each other. None of you were looking forward to that—you were friends. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t make any allies.
Alliances didn’t last forever in the arena, but they lasted long enough. Considering your status, almost everyone wanted you and your “boyfriend” as allies; they certainly didn’t want you as enemies.
The next day was spent at the training centre, a brand new one made specially for the Quarter Quell. The thought made you roll your eyes. The Capitol would spend their money on things like this and yet there were still kids out there starving. What kind of world was that? One that you were okay with leaving, so long as Finnick would remain in it.
On your way in, you passed Cashmere and Gloss throwing knives at holograms. They were good, you noted, but not better at it than you. Johanna was off practicing by herself—though you were sure that she was doing it more so to release her pent-up aggression. Wiress and Beetee, Nuts and Volts as Jo called them, were by themselves, much less violent than everyone else here and much more strategic. Finnick was tying knots, looking more bored than anything. And you… you weren’t doing anything.
You leaned back on a wall, watching the other tributes instead of joining them. You didn’t care about the rankings or making yourself look dangerous. You didn’t have anything to prove; you did that already, and you really didn’t need to “practice,” either.
You’ve danced this dance before.
However, not everyone was so aware of just how well you danced last time.
“Not practicing?” You turned your head, seeing the newest victor walking up to you, donning her famous hairstyle. The corners of your lips quirked up in amusement.
She must have been told to make friends. You couldn’t imagine it was working out so well if she was coming to you.
“Don’t need to, Everdeen,” you replied, shrugging. “I don’t need the spotlight; got enough of that.”
She lightly snorted. “Yeah, I know what that’s like.” And you didn’t doubt that. Katniss had definitely captured the attention of Panem with her actions, and she certainly acquired the attention of the Capitol. Snow couldn’t have been her biggest fan.
In another life, you could picture you and her being friends, but you knew it wasn’t gonna happen in this one.
“You’re lucky, you know,” you said. You knew she didn’t see that way, and maybe it was a little bitter of you to say that, but it was true. At least she hadn’t been under the spotlight long enough for it to burn her like it’d burned you.
She scoffed, “How so?” The girl had restraint, you’d give her that. She clearly wanted to say a lot more than that, but she was smart. She knew better.
You shrugged again. “You just are.” And you left it there. If she wanted all the dirty details about you, she could try her luck with one of the other victors, but you doubted she sensed the real meaning of your words. She hadn’t been dancing long enough to even hear the song yet.
A dramatic sigh then escaped your lips. “Ah, though I suppose even your luck can only run so far, Girl on Fire. So sorry about your wedding.” The sarcasm in your voice was toned down just enough that it wasn’t so evident but evident enough to make your point.
She gave you a tense smile, although you weren’t sure if any of Katniss’ smiles ever weren’t tense. “Thanks,” she responded with zero sincerity in her tone. “I’m sorry you and Finnick never had one, either. Would’ve been a real royal occasion.”
You hummed, smiling your royal smile back at her. The Kat has claws, you thought. But you didn’t really feel like standing here and trading subliminals with her all day; you’d have enough of that with everyone else, anyway.
You left it at that, going to walk away before pausing as if you’d forgotten something. “Tell Haymitch I said hi.” You gave her a once over. “He’s done a good job.” And then you walked away.
Finnick’s voice rang through your head: May the odds be ever in your favour, darling. You almost felt like recycling that line and repeating it to Katniss, but you had already messed with her enough.
Your demeanour was in stark contrast of how you normally behaved. You may have been more agreeable or kind at home, sweet on cameras, but in this territory, you had an entirely different reputation. Sharp, cunning, unpredictable—ruthless. That’s the way it needed to be if you wanted to survive, or at least survive long enough to do what you needed to do.
So, you supposed that you had a mask, too.
You all did.
When you got back to your suite later in the evening, Finnick informed you of Katniss’ display with her bow and arrow, how she had renowned victors quaking in their boots, but people were even more scared of you, and you hadn’t even done anything at training.
You basically had the entire pool of tributes to choose from for an alliance. You were choosing Johanna, of course, and Finnick already had his mind made up on his pick.
Making his way over to you, he tossed you something that you swiftly caught before sitting down on the armchair across from the sofa you were sitting on. You looked down, opening your hand to see a golden pendant, a medallion with a rose in the middle.
You raised a brow. This wasn’t a present. “A rose?”
“They’re a Capitol favourite.” Precisely why you hated them.
“Alright, and why are you giving it to me?”
Finnick brought his wrist up, showing you a golden bracelet made of vines while wiggling his fingers. “They’re gifts,” he told you, “from Effie Trinket and Haymitch Abernathy.”
You were familiar with both people. Effie Trinket was crazy, but that wasn’t the dominant thought on your mind. “Gifts for what?”
He answered, “They’ve brokered an alliance with us on behalf of Katniss and Peeta.” At that, you groaned, but Finnick readily cut you off. “This will be good for us, Y/N.”
“They’re brand new to this,” you countered. Sure, you liked the spark that the Girl on Fire had, and Peeta was quite the catch, but they only won a year ago. The Careers would be a better pick, even though you didn’t exactly like them, either.
“Yes, but they’re good; you’ve seen them. And the Capitol’s gonna love it, the two pairs of lovers together. C’mon, you know all this.” You did. You knew that this was one of the best avenues to take, but something in you was against it.
Maybe it was just that Peeta reminded you of the man you were in love with, and Katniss reminded you of yourself. But right now, you had to remind yourself to think with your head, not your heart. You needed to disregard your feelings and do whatever it took to win this.
To you, winning didn’t mean surviving this. Winning meant that Finnick did.
So, with a sigh, you surrendered, agreeing to this little deal. “So, these accessories are, what? Bargaining chips?”
He smirked. “No, they’re symbols. Katniss and Peeta have theirs, too.”
You chuckled, shaking your head and mocking, “So we’re in a little golden alliance, then?”
“It appears so, darling.”
After a little more conversation, Finnick and you headed off to bed, even though neither of you could really sleep. You held each other, though, and so the insomnia was bearable. He told you to stow the necklace away, that you were saving the objects for The Games. Apparently, Katniss and Peeta still needed a little persuasion for this, especially the former.
She was smart not to trust you, but she was equally as naive for the same reason. If you wanted to, you could be judgemental all day, but you didn’t have the time for it, so your mind didn’t linger on the subject.
When you were waiting to be assessed the next day with the rest of the tributes, your mind didn’t really linger on anything. You felt numb: not pleased, not sad, just numb. If you could pin-point an emotion, it had to be anger, but that feeling hadn’t left you since your first Games.
Finnick, on the other hand, looked no different, maybe even a little amused by the tension in the room, too amused for somebody who had to go back to the arena. But Finnick was always one to look a challenge into the eye and, instead of looking away, give it a wink. That was his persona while you were here, in the Capitol, so you’d let him indulge in it if that’s what made him feel better.
You’d do anything for him, even if he didn’t love you back.
He went into the room first. You didn’t know exactly what he was gonna do, but you knew that you were all basically doing the same thing. Plutarch Heavensbee may have been new, but even he knew who you all were. You’ve all shown your skills already, been here already, danced this dance already.
The song was getting old.
You were all giving your own personal fuck you to the Capitol.
When Finnick walked out, he flashed you a smirk that almost made you laugh. You stifled a smile as you walked into the room yourself, but it was quickly wiped off your face as memories played in your head like a movie.
You remembered the first time you did this, coming in and saying your name, scared out of your mind but ready to win, ready to impress the sponsors.
Now, you didn’t have to say your name. You caught their attention as soon as you walked in. You were the Princess. You needed no introduction.
It was funny, though, how that imaginary crown couldn’t save you from this.
The thought of your inevitable death was what fuelled you. You were known for your abilities with a sword, but that wasn’t what you reached for. You reached for the jug of gasoline and a lighter, immediately opening it and pouring in a circle in the middle of the room before stepping into it.
Then you looked right up at all of them and their confused faces, and threw the open lighter to the liquid in front of you, igniting a circle of fire around you.
You stared right at the head Gamemaker as you did it, expressionless. His expression told you that he got the message, or at least your hostility.
You would burn this place to the ground if you had to, even if you got burned while doing it.
When the flames got smaller, you turned and stepped over them, walking out of the room without another glance or word to the Capitol mutts. As far as you were concerned, they weren’t worth your time—you were running out of that, anyways.
Once the assessments were over, all any of you had time to do was get ready for the show. Caesar wasn’t exactly a face you wanted to see right now. Maybe he saw his enthusiasm as a way of “calming the tributes down,” but it was really just his lack of empathy. You didn’t need him cheering and practically gossiping about your death before it happened.
As much as the people in the Capitol liked to think of these Games as games, they weren’t. They were your lives. But you really could spend days obsessing over it, days that you didn’t have.
It was time to dance, and there was nothing you did better.
You were backstage, standing with Finnick and Johanna, waiting your turns. Cinna had made you very pretty. He was good at what he did.
You were wearing a dark blue dress with wide straps tied into blue bows at your shoulders and a sweetheart neckline. The bottom half was pretty fitted, but it was covered by a sparkly, golden, A-line, hoop petticoat made of the same material as your top from the parade, gridded with holes like before. And of course, your crown sat atop your head—Cinna insisted.
He really wanted to nail the whole Princess thing, milk it for all it was worth. And you let him, because his designs were great. Part of you wished you could’ve gotten more into fashion; now you’d never get the chance to.
You couldn’t blame Katniss for being so stand-offish. You’d be intimidated, too, if you were new to the club, watching from the sidelines. You, Finnick, and Johanna didn’t really seem all too approachable right now, either, even the ever so charming Odair. They were exchanging jokes and laughing at the interviews, mocking them, while you were rather stoic, observing the interviews watchfully.
Cashmere and Gloss went first, of course. They did theirs together since they were brother and sister. It was odd to you, how two siblings managed to get reaped together out of all the victors district 1 had, but you were paying more attention to the act they were putting on.
Casmere was sobbing. She’s a much better killer than she is an actor, you thought, but the people in the audience clearly bought it. You’d give her credit, though; you were all trying your best to get this thing cancelled, even if that was highly unlikely.
Next came the two crazy Careers who made Gloss’ acting look world class. Then Beetee went on stage, using logic as a tactic rather than emotion. Smart, but logic wouldn’t sway President Snow’s wishes. The Capitol sent innocent kids off to die every year in a televised event to pay for something that happened years before any of them were born—logic was obviously not their strong suit.
Wiress went next, and that’s basically when you tuned out. She was pretty out of it, not really saying much. Finnick was going after her. That’s what occupied your thoughts.
“Hey, you alright?” Your were snapped out of your daze by the very man you were thinking about, as if he was reading your mind. Those blue eyes that you loved so much stared down at you, concern swimming through them.
Those ocean eyes. You could drown in them.
You cleared your throat, straightening your shoulders. “Yeah, I’m good.” He continued to stare down at you like he was completely unconvinced, but before he could say anything, they were calling his name.
He cursed under his breath then placed a soft kiss on your temple before having to walk out on stage, that famous smirk on his face. He was so good at that, at going from hard to soft so easily, cursing to kissing you.
He was good. He was real good, and he was a much better actor than any other tribute here. He was so good that he could make even you believe his performance.
You watched them from the TV backstage. “Finnick,” Caesar started. “As I recall, the last time we spoke, it was with your other half, who is here today.” The crowd cheered.
Finn nodded, smiling tensely, which you were sure he did on purpose. “That’s right.”
“You and the Princess have so graciously shared your love with us, and we have fallen in love with you both, perhaps as much as you love each other.” You and Johanna simultaneously rolled your eyes. Finnick, though, smiled to the cheering audience, mouthing thank you’s that no doubt made them swoon. “None of us know how to deal with the fact that you are both going into The Games- I certainly haven’t come to terms with it. Tell us, how are you dealing with this?”
You scoffed. If there was something the people of the Capitol liked to do, it was pretending that your tragedy was their own. They didn’t know even half of your pain, any of yours.
Caesar practically shoved the microphone in Finnick’s face. He looked down, like he was thinking, but you knew he probably had this bit down pat already. “If I’m being honest, neither Y/N nor I have come to terms with it, either.” He now looked right to the camera. “What I do know is that I will do whatever it takes to protect the woman I love.” The crowd cooed as you looked straight at the TV, as if Finnick was staring into your eyes. “And if I… if I die in that arena, then my last thought will be of her lips… and how lucky I was to have met her and have had the opportunity to give her my heart.”
The crowd went wild and Caesar said something in response, but you couldn’t hear it. You were stuck staring into Finnick’s eyes, the eyes you fell in love with. Oh, he was so good. He could dance the dance so much better than you. Because everything he said, he almost made you believe that he meant it.
You blinked the tears in your eyes away when Johanna shook you, telling you they were about to announce your name. You put the mask back on, and it was your love for Finnick that made you do it. You were doing this for him.
An exhale left your lips as you waited for your cue. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, as our Prince exits, I have the honour of welcoming his counterpart to the stage. The winner of the 67th Hunger Games. The Princess of Panem. Y/N Y/L/N!”
The doors you stood behind opened and you walked onto the stage, a stellar smile on your face as you waved to the roaring crowd. You just had to play the role, and everything would be fine.
When the cheers died down, Caesar gave you a sympathetic look, or at least a look that he thought was sympathetic. “Now, Y/N, it is lovely to see you. You look stunning.”
“Thank you, Caesar. It’s always wonderful to see you. I just wish it was under different circumstances.” You glanced to the crowd, catching their pity. For once, that was the exact emotion you wished to inspire.
“Yes, I think I speak for us all when I say that this is not easy.” You tightly smiled, even though you really just wanted to flip him off. “We just spoke to Finnick, he has been quite expressive these past few days in the Capitol, but you, Y/N, you have not been as revealing. Please, we’d like to know what’s been on your mind.”
If Caesar really heard what was on your mind, then he’d be appalled. That wasn’t your goal, even though you’d greatly enjoy that. Instead, you had a different play.
The audience was very quiet in anticipation of your response. You sighed, keeping the tired smile. “I, um… I’ve had a lot on my mind, really. Finnick and I, we thought we had more time, time to get married and even have kids, but now it’s like that time has just been… stolen from us.” Collective awes resounded throughout the crowd as Caesar brought his other hand to his chest, like your words moved him. “It’s- it’s just not fair, simple as that. But I love him, and that love will survive, even if I don’t.”
The audience let their dismay be known while Caesar shook his head. “Oh, my dear, I have seen your love- we all have, and I know that it will never die.” You nodded in agreement, listening to everyone else agree with you.
The acting was easier than you thought it’d be. Maybe that was because it wasn’t all acting, not for you. You knew your role, and you knew it well, but your love for Finnick was not something you had to fake. It was perhaps one of the only real things you had left.
“Now, we are all in for an emotional night, so I’d just like to lighten the mood a little- is that alright?” You nodded again, though you wondered how he would’ve reacted if you didn’t. “Okay, now we all saw your display at the parade- isn’t that right, everyone?” He paused, letting them applaud. “Yes, it was magnificent. Would I be right in assuming that you have something similar planned tonight?”
“Oh, you’d be correct,” you responded, flashing a grin at the whooping crowd.
“Please, please.” He stepped back. “Go right ahead.”
You glanced at Cinna sitting front row before pressing the button of the device he gave you. The golden petticoat then went up in flames, seemingly “ejecting” the skirt of your dress, sending it from above your knees to your ankles as it went from skin-tight to flowy. The very bottom faded into a teal colour, like the sea.
The crowd’s cheers got louder than you thought possible. Caesar wowed, then raised his voice. “Ladies and gentlemen, the Princess of Panem!” You gave the crowd one last wave before making your way up the stairs to stand with the rest of the victors.
You were standing next to Finnick by the time the next tribute was called out and the attention was on them. To your surprise, he grabbed your hand, holding it tightly. But what really surprised you was the slight tremble you felt.
You looked up at him to see him already staring down at you. His mask fell a little, and instead of the at-ease Finnick you just saw, you were looking at a much more serious, stern version. You were confused by what could’ve brought this on, but then he leant down slightly, whispering in your ear, “I told you. I’m not letting you die.” When he pulled away, he didn’t look any less serious.
Oh, what a great liar he could be. There he was, making you believe in things that couldn’t possibly be true. You were going to die. You knew that, and you’d accepted it already. But Finnick hadn’t accepted it at all. He looked like he was believing his own lie.
You don’t know why this had shaken him so badly. Maybe he felt obligated to you, maybe he felt bad for you, but whatever it was, you weren’t gonna make it worse.
You could be a good actor, too.
For him.
You nodded, whispering back, “I know.” This looked to have calmed him down a little. He kissed the side of your head, and then the mask was back up. He kept his tight hold on your hand, and you let him.
You never know when it’d be the last time you held hands, and so you were gonna enjoy this while it lasted.
Even though this was an “emotional night,” as Caesar had dubbed it, you still got satisfaction out of everything the victors were pulling. When Johanna came on stage, she had a totally different approach than all of your sad acts and Beetee’s logic: she said what you all really wanted to say, giving the Capitol a loud fuck you.
You and Finnick had to stop yourselves from laughing amidst your shock. Caesar definitely wasn’t expecting that. You knew Snow definitely wasn’t expecting that, either. You hoped he was watching this right now, and you hoped that all of Panem could feel your outrage.
But if you were surprised by anything, it was the so called star-crossed lovers from district 12. Katniss’ wedding dress was a nice touch; she could’ve convinced even you that they were in love, if you didn’t know any better.
You weren’t the only one with a message to send to the Capitol with your attire. She spun around and her white dress was engulfed in flames, transforming into a midnight blue dress similar to yours. And when she lifted her arms, wings were revealed, and the smile on your lips widened.
“It’s a bird,” Caesar stammered in awe. “It’s like, a- it’s got feathers- it’s a bird- like a-”
You murmured at the same time as Katniss spoke up, “Like a Mockingjay.” You looked up to Finnick, seeing him already smirking. Everdeen was a lot ballsier than you thought.
“Your stylist certainly has outdone himself this time, hasn’t he? Bestowing not one, but two just astonishing looks upon us! What theatricality.” The attention was drawn to your designer. “Cinna! Take a bow.”
You were growing to like this man more and more, knowing that the Capitol must have hated him.
When the cheers died down and Katniss came and joined you all, the event was almost over with just Peeta left. You remembered the advice you gave him; you had high hopes for him, and he did not disappoint.
He claimed he and Katniss had a secret wedding, reeled them all in, and then he added the cherry on top. “You know, Katniss and I, we’ve been luckier than most. And I wouldn’t have any regrets at all…” he paused, choking up, “i-if, if it weren’t… if…”
“If it weren’t for what? What, Peeta?”
“If it weren’t for the baby.”
Hook, line, and sinker.
The audience clamoured. You slapped a hand over your mouth to hide the upturn of your lips, feigning horror. Finnick was in the same boat, stifling a laugh.
Golden boy was smarter than he got credit for.
People in the audience stood up, shouting while Caesar tried to calm them down. They were calling for The Games to be stopped, exactly what you’d been trying to achieve all night. Caesar whispered something to Peeta away from the microphone, and he walked up the stairs to the rest of you, hugging his apparent wife.
Then suddenly, you were nudged by the person next to you, looking down to see their hand outstretched. You quickly realized what was going on and grabbed it. And then amidst all the fury, you brought your hands up together. Yes, they wanted you to kill each other, but you were all united in the same fight first.
It became obvious that Caesar couldn’t contain the crowd’s indignation any longer, so the anthem played, increasing in volume to try and drown them out, but your actions were still so much louder than words.
That’s when the lights cut out.
But it would be a lot harder for the Capitol to snuff out the spark you all lit.
While you all did your best, your efforts appeared to be futile. Snow wasn’t against killing children, so you supposed that you all should’ve known better than to think that he’d cancel The Games for Everdeen’s baby.
However, it wasn’t completely useless. You had the public’s support. Sponsors wouldn’t be hard to get, so at least that was something. But all in all, The Games were still happening. One winner. Twenty-three of you would be dead, and you were going to be one of them.
Your last Games, you were relentless, selling your soul to stay alive. And you were gonna do it all over again, but this time, your objective wasn’t staying alive at all. It was making sure Finnick could make it home to Annie.
Lying there in Finnick’s arms that night for what could possibly be the last time, you realized that you would die without ever having been loved by someone. You were with Finnick, and you loved him, but he didn’t love you back.
These last few days, you had been consumed by fire, knowing that you would burn everything down if it meant your lover would be safe, but it was like it was just hitting you that you’d been warming yourself up with a flame that wasn’t ever really yours.
You knew without a doubt that Finnick Odair was your soulmate.
But you weren’t his.
Tears pooled into your eyes at the thought, and so you quickly buried your head into his chest before a panic attack could came on. You calmed down to the sound of his heartbeat, the heartbeat that you personally would make sure didn’t stop until he was old and his hair was grey.
The next day was a blur between the hovercraft, having the trackers injected into you, and then being separated from Finnick. The only thing you really could remember was how he kissed your cheek before he left.
And then you were in the tube, rising up into the arena. You couldn’t get a good look at it. Every time you blinked, your Games flashed before your eyes. Sun, cold, dirt, blood, screaming, murder.
You inhaled deeply, closing your eyes as the announcer counted down. Pull yourself together, Y/N, you thought.
And then The Games begun.
Taglist: @honestlycasualarcade
#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair#i love finnick odair#the hunger games#thg#thg fandom#thg fanfiction#catching fire#angsty imagine#angst#the hunger games trilogy#mockingjay#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#katniss everdeen#johanna mason#peeta mellark#katniss and peeta#everlark#the golden alliance#effie trinket#haymitch x effie#haymitch abernathy#coriolanus snow#cinna#caesar flickerman#finnick and annie#annie cresta#odesta#finnick imagine#thg finnick
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promises and dreams (part 3)
pairing: finnick odair x reader
warning: angst, canon typical violence and killing, mentions of finnick being trafficked
summary: finnick odair is your best friend, but somehow you cant find it within yourself to be aanything more. Now that the 75th Hunger Games calls for Victors to be reaped you make it your plan to bring Finnick back home to Annie or you will die trying
word count: 1.5k
a/n: part 3! i hope you guys like this, it might be a bit of a filler chapter but next chapter will be finnick and reader in the arena!
part 1, part 2, part 3
tag list: @l3xi3luv @yaesflorist @asapkyndall @midnowsss @fangirling-galore @marimarvelfan @d0p3ys-delusions @sierravogss @littleshadow17 @carolanns-world @pet1t3 @yourdailymemedelivery @merromimo (if your tags didn’t work pls check you can be tagged on your profile!)
Walking back to your room after the interviews, anxiety flooded your system. You knew that each of the tributes were doing their best to try and get the games cancelled and with Peeta’s sudden announcement, you all were waiting with bated breath in hopes that the games were stopped. However, realistically you all knew that you were all inevitably going to be put in the arena whether you liked it or not.
Finnick watches you with furrowed eyebrows as you try and control your breathing, your anxiety after coming out of the arena was horrible, the constant panic attacks and heart clenching fear that passed through you at any given moment. “You, okay?” he murmurs as he nudges your side and you2 look up to him with tears lining your vision before you sniff, wipe your eyes, and give him a decisive nod. “Don’t worry about me” you tell him.
I’m always worrying about you. He thinks to himself and whilst in his own head, he realises he’s reached the room, as you unlock the door and walk to your own room, Finnick pauses and watches you walk, he sits on the couch in front of the tv and turns on some trashy Tv. As he hears the shower turn off and you make your way to sit on your bed, he gets up himself to walk to your room.
He pauses before he opens the door, he’s met with the sight of your wet hair as you sit in your pyjama’s as on the bed, looking out the window. “Hey” you mutter as you hear him walk closer. He only sits softly before you turn to look at him curiously. Without saying anything, you arch your eyebrow with urges Finnick to speak.
He looks almost embarrassed to speak and your look at his flushed cheeks before he murmurs softly, “Can I stay with you tonight…please?” he asks and your throat chokes up in pain, the last time Finnick had ever asked to lay in your bed with you was just after you had found out President Snow had been selling his body.
..............................................................................................................................
When you wake, you’re alone on the bed and you can hear Finnick’s shower running on the opposite side of the apartment. You get up with ease as you shower and change into the training clothe provided by the Capitol. You stretch your limbs before you walk into the dining area where your stylist, Knox and mentor, Mags are sitting.
“Don’t you look lovely” Knox drawls as she watches you sit and pile your plate with food to prepare for the day, Mags only smiles kindly at you as she gestures to the time, letting you know that you should eat quickly if you want to be at the training grounds on time. “Lovely to see you too Knox” you say with a playful roll of your eyes.
You had spent majority of your time during your own games, hiding and only killing when necessary, however you knew you couldn’t possibly do that during the quarter quell and you needed to use your skills back at district 4 to your advantage.
You were pretty good with a spear, similarly with Finnick however you were exceptionally good knives, smaller ones that you had used back home gutting fish. That, was your primary focus of today, alongside forming allies. . Your train of thought is interrupted by hurried footsteps and a slammed door, you only catch the back of Finnick’s hair before he’s gone.
As you finish your meal you rush to the training grounds where you see Finnick already sparring a hologram with a trident, he looks focused, so you don’t bother to go up to him. Instead, you find yourself watching Johanna, she’s practicing with knives herself on a sparring mat and as you walk up to her, you see her glaring expression turn into a soft, somewhat still insane smile.
She’s about as angry as all the tributes on the grounds combined, you don’t blame her because you know just how much she didn’t deserve to be dragged back here, just as much as you did. “Y/N Y/L/N” she says with a smile as you both hug one another, “ready to get your ass beat?” he cocks her eyebrow and you only meet her gaze with a smirk before you mutter, “ you’re on mason”.
Johanna’s strong, you’ll give her that, but her form is sloppy. She keeps her weak spots open too many times and you’re able to kill her far too easily for your liking, you spend your time giving her pointers as she helps you move with harsher movements and cleaner intents. She unsurprisingly enough knows the easiest places to cut that lead to the fastest deaths. ‘Crazy bitch’ you can’t help but think amusedly as you shake your head.
The only time you’re interrupted is when Katniss walks into the shooting range with her bow and arrow, slowly but surely a crowd forms around her as you all watch her take down all her targets seamlessly. “She’s going to be a problem” you hear Finnick mutter next to you and you still, you hadn’t even heard him walk up to you. Once composed however, you only look at him slyly, “not if she’s an ally” you say. He looks impressed and nods before turning his gaze back to Katniss’ shooting which has ended.
You all turn to carry on training before a bunch of peacekeepers walk up to you, Finnick and Johanna. You freeze in your place as you start thinking about the Capitol requesting Finnick’s presence, however the three of you are marched out of the grounds together. You and Finnick share a look of worry before he reaches across to grab your hand in comfort, before thinking better of it and moving his arm back to his side.
You’re all taken into a room where Plutarch Heavensbee sits in front of you all at a brown mahogany desk. “Welcome” he says with a smile on his face before he gestures to the three chairs laid out perfectly in front of his desk, “sit sit” he urges before you all cautiously take a seat.
“What the fuck is going on here?” Johanna says in an outburst of emotion, and you can only share her sentiment as you look at Plutarch with aa suspicious gaze. He only nods his head as the peacekeepers leave the room and then he turns completely serious as the smile drops off his face.
“I need your help” he says gravely, and you all look at each other in confusion, “District 13 is alive and well, there is a rebellion growing and I need your help in stopping the games and getting Katniss Everdeen out of that arena” he says, and your mouth can only drop open in shock.
You knew, just as everyone did about the riots that had taken place in the districts, but you had never had any way of knowing that it had grown to this stage. “A rebellion?” you can only question in astonishment before Plutarch sighs as he quickly mutters into a small mic before Haymitch walks through the doors behind you.
“This is fucking insane” Johanna cries and you look at Finnick who’s been silent the entire time, he looks at you for a brief second before turning his attention to Plutarch and Haymitch who seems to be swaying on his feet.
“Hey sweetheart” Haymitch says with a wink as he catches you looking at him in shock, you can’t help your smile before you hear Finnick scoff as he sarcastically mumbles the nickname under his breath, you look at him in confusion, but he avoids your gaze.
“You’re in on this?” you ask Haymitch as he looks at you with softness in his gaze, “Yeah, I am. We need your help Y/N, we could take down Snow” he says and knowing Haymitch, everything he says shouldn’t be taken lightly in a time of seriousness.
You nod as you turn back to Plutarch and let him continue to explain the plan surrounding getting Katniss out of the arena safe and sound. He makes sure to mention that none of you are to die, if one of you are dead, the other two must carry your slack. You realise that even now, fighting for the rebellion. Your life is not your own, it belongs to Katniss, Finnick and even to Johanna. They have to make it out.
#juliwrites#the hunger games x reader#the hunger games trilogy#the hunger games#finnick x oc#finnick odair imagine#finnick imagine#thg finnick#finnick odair#finnick x reader#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair x you#finnick x y/n#mockingjay#thg series#katniss everdeen#johanna mason
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Realized I hadn't given Johanna an official design and that seemed like a crime
#Don't know how I feel about the drawing its self#but I like how her design turned out a lot#Obviously there's some modern flare in there#But this is almost exactly how I imagined her when I first read Catching Fire in 2012#johanna mason#Johanna thg#The hunger games#Catching Fire#Mockingjay#thg series#digital art#hunger games fanart#artists on tumblr#clip studio paint#fanart#digital artist#jolly art
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Jabberjays | Johanna Mason
Pairing: Johanna Mason x fem!reader (District4!Finnick's sister!reader)
Summary: During the attack of the Jabberjays Katniss is introduced to a whole different Johanna.
Warning/s: a bit of angst, a bit of fluff, the quarter quell, jabberjays, panic, screaming, weapons, you know typical hunger games stuff, also this is more like a short blurb but yeah, possible grammar and spelling mistakes
Author's note: I always wanted to write something about the Jabberjay attack so I absolutely loved the request! Also I made the reader Finnick's sister, I hope that's okay. Hope you enjoy!!
Request -> hi! i have a request for johanna!! could u do one where fem!reader and her are in a relationship that’s not secret just private (like only finnick knows) but something happens in the arena where johanna gets worried about r & finnick and katniss have a talk like johanna and katniss did in the movie abt annie? sry if that was too long or didn’t make sense! ty <33
Johanna just went into the thick forest to get some water with the spile that Haymitch send them so that they don't die of dehydration. She was regretting it now.
Katniss, Peeta, Beetee, your brother Finnick and you were on the beach. You were sitting with Katniss on the dry sand as you anxiously waited for Johanna to return from the forest as you stated at the hole in the sand that Johanna's ax made.
Thankfully, you thought to yourself, she took it with her.
Everything was relatively peaceful, too peaceful even. You didn't like it one bit. Something was coming. The game makers wouldn't allow the things to be so peaceful for so long. You were soon proven right as you heard the ear piercing scream that only seemed to shake through you.
"Johanna!" Your voice screamed back, every bit of common sense leaving you as you bolted towards the sound of Johanna's bloody-like screams.
You left your knives on the beach, along with the rest of your team that were screaming your name, confused from your actions as they tried to keep up with you. You were in a vulnerable place as you waved your hands around, trying to keep the thick leaves, that were swang down blocking your vision, away from your face as you ran still screaming Johanna's name as much as she screamed yours.
"Johanna!" You shouted as you reached the center of the forest where Johanna's screams were.
You were moving around in the circle, trying to determine where exactly her voice was coming from. After a while it hit you as you realized that her screams were coming from above. High in the trees. Then you saw the jabberjays flopping their little wings in the air, swaying the leaves of the trees and you knew that you fell right in the Capitol's trap.
"Y/N!" Finnick's muffled voice came towards you and you quickly turned towards him. Katniss, Beetee and Peeta were there with him, looking extremely concerned.
But why were they not coming closer?
The painful sounds of Johanna's screaming was messing with your head, panick gripping onto each and every fragment of your mind and body.
Why were they not coming over? Why aren't they helping? Why are they just standing there?!
Your felt your arms moving up, your hands gripping your head to try and kill the ever racing thoughts and the continuous mocking of the jabberjays. Then, as your eyes frantically searched the area, you spotted Johanna. Her eyes full of concern only reserved for her close friends and her love.
Then, the next thing that happened just confused you even more. Finnick grabbed her arm quickly, stopping her as she moved forward towards you, ax in her hand. She twisted her arm, releasing her arm from Finnick's grip as she yelled at him while he talked to her about something that you didn't hear. Her expression changed from concerned to utterly horrified.
"Y/N!" You heard Johanna's muffled, concerned voice mixing with the imitation of the screaming that the jabberjays provided.
You didn't think, the constant screaming was too much. You ran towards her, but came to a stop when your body hit something invisible. The force field. You started banging your hands against the force field trying to ignore the looks of pity and concern from your lover, brother and allies. You didn't want to except this.
The screaming intensified as the birds got closer to you, and you found yourself sliding onto the ground, screaming bloody murder just so you could tone down the sound of Johanna's and Finnick's torturous screams. Johanna was taping on the force field shouting at you something that you didn't understand.
That's how Johanna found herself banging her ax forcefully against the force field, trying to break it. Finnick next to her, hitting the force field with his trident, his eyes full of concern as he watched his baby sister's torture.
The new hour began and Katniss watched the scene in front of her not believing the state that Johanna was in. The hurried movements with her ax, the horrified expression on her face, her eyes full of concern. She cared about someone here. She actually, genuinely, cared about someone here.
°
"Y/N!" Johanna's voice reached your ears, tearing through the ringing in them as you swayed back and forth on the ground. "The hour is up! You okay! It's over! I'm here!"
After you finally came to your senses enough to look at her, you immediately wrapped your arms around her as tightly as you possibly could, not letting go.
"Johanna," You gasped through neverending sobs as your body shook against hers. "You're all right."
"We're both alright." She answered you with the softest voice Katniss ever heard.
Later on you all gathered at the beach once again. Peeta and Beetee went of a bit further away on the beach, looking for some food. Johanna and you settled down on the edge of the beach away from the rest of the team, but still in their eyesight, and finally Katniss and Finnick sat down, learning against the trees.
"Are they together?" Katniss asked Finnick, breaking the silence. "Johanna and Y/N?"
"Yes." Finnick answered immediately, his sea-green eyes snapped to look at her gray ones. "They didn't really keep it a secret, it was private. Only Mags, Annie, Haymitch and I knew really. They wanted to keep it in the close circle of friends."
"I've never seen Johanna act like that before," Katniss quietly murmured as she processed this new information that Finnick told her. "It was quite terrifying."
"Yeah, well," Finnick couldn't help himself as he chuckled playfully at her confession. "Johanna loves her so much. It is terrifying, honestly." He, however, continued on a more serious note. "Y/N won her games a year before Johanna. She helped her when she was going through tough times after she went out of the arena. Johanna lost her family. Y/N is the only thing that she lives for, now. She said it herself when I gave her, correction," Finnick held his finger up in the air, noting that he expressed himself wrongly. "Tried, key word tried, to give her I'm-her-older-protective-brother-so-you-better-not-hurt-her speach."
"And how did that turn out?" Katniss couldn't help but to ask, given how Johanna was she knew that his answer was going to be good.
"Oh, she smacked me across the head." Finnick smiled and Katniss found herself laughing at his answer just like she expected to.
Finnick and Katniss gazed to the couple that was still knee deep in the water, arms wrapped around each other as you sat in between Johanna's legs, your back leaning against her front.
"I'm glad that they have each other," Katniss spoke her thoughts out loud. "Even though they are so different they just seem to fit so well with one another."
"Definitely."
"What the hell are you two gossiping about?" Johanna called out causing you to giggle softly as you spoke.
"Yeah! And why the hell didn't you invite us?!"
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TAGLIST:
@caroline-books @thecrowdedstreetin1944
#imagine#fic#the hunger games#thg#x reader#x fem!reader#x female reader#johanna mason x you#johanna mason x fem!reader#the hunger games johanna#johanna mason x reader#johanna mason#katniss everdeen#katniss everdeen x reader#finnick odair#finnick odair x reader#light angst#light fluff#jabberjay#the hunger games fanfiction#the hunger games katniss#the hunger games movie#catching fire#lesbian#bisexual#jenna malone#jenna malone x reader#fanfiction#fanfic#annie cresta
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FOR YOU ★ katniss everdeen
katniss everdeen x fem!reader
you see katniss for the first time after she wins the 74th annual hunger games
warnings: just some cheesy fluff bc i watched the hunger games for the first time
word count: 1145
note: this takes place after the first movie bc i’ve only watched that one and the ballad of songbirds and snakes 🫣
also this is kinda based on that one forrest gump scene where he’s at the vietnam war protest and jenny starts running to him through the reflecting pool to get to him 😭😭
hope you enjoy!!
the second she steps off the train, she’s already surrounded by the crowd. some people are chanting her name, others are offering her the three-finger salute, and some are even crying. she feels peeta squeeze her shoulder as he steps off behind her, and she can sense the smile on his face.
but she can barely feel his fingers on her skin or hear district 12 celebrating around her. she’s so focused, her eyes frantically scanning the crowd. there were so many people there to congratulate and thank her yet she only wanted to see one person.
it takes a few seconds before she hears a faint shout of her name.
“katniss!” the voice calls out. “katniss!”
her ears instantly perk up and she instinctively moves toward the source of the sound.
“katniss!”
it’s clearer now and she’s sure she knows who it belongs to. she can see people getting shoved in the back of the crowd as someone makes their way to the front. she doesn’t even need to see who it is before tears rim her eyes.
she involuntarily releases a strained noise of sheer desperation before she speeds up, the crowd kindly parting for her. the same can’t be said for you as you use every bit of your strength to push past citizens, some of them leaving you irritated glances.
luckily you make quick work and suddenly your unkempt hair catches katniss’ eye. she notices your rough, seasoned hands fighting those around you to get to her and now she’s nearly running toward you.
she screams your name, letting you know that she’s seen you and reminding you of how intensely she’s missed you. her voice is raw and distraught. she reminds you of how painful it is for her to be without you.
only when you’ve made it all the way to the front do you stop and does katniss get a clear look at you. you stumble out of the crowd, nearly falling, but you catch yourself. bystanders stare, questioning the importance of your presence, but all you do is look up and meet katniss’ eyes.
she stops fifteen steps ahead of you. only then does she remember why she had fought so hard to stay alive; why she had killed; why she had refused to give up even when the odds were against her. because, when she looked into your eyes—your perfect, beautiful, joyful eyes that reflected all of her own emotions—she remembered that it was all for you.
she refused to let her life end in that artificial forest because her life hadn’t truly begun until she was able to be with you. you were her reason, the single thing that kept her going, that motivated her, that she thought about on every dark, cold, soulless night.
she dreamed endlessly about returning to district 12 just to be wrapped in your warm embrace, to feel your chaste kiss on her cheek, and to start a new life with you. in fact, she dreamed about this very moment that she was living in. she dreamed about everything from how you would look to the way you would look at her. she dreamed about how it would feel and what she would do, but once she was in the moment, everything was more powerful than she could have ever imagined. everything was far more perfect than in her dreams.
she watched your own tears swell as your eyes settled upon her. your hands came to your face, covering your mouth as you fought your natural crying face into a smile.
seeing you cry always made her so weak and she felt her tears start flowing down her cheeks. she felt her ugly cry begin but she couldn’t help it. it felt so good to see you that it was almost painful. you had woven your way into her heart and now the two of you were one.
a tiny part of her brain was scared of what you might think of her. would you be afraid of her after seeing her kill so ruthlessly? would you lose your feelings after watching her at her lowest moment? or worst of all, would you be angry at her after witnessing her onscreen romance with peeta?
she had played into her role during the games—the girl on fire who was head over heels for the baker’s son—but the games were over now and there was no need to pretend anymore. while peeta may have loved her, katniss’ feelings for him were never close to what she felt for you. she just hoped that you had realized that too.
no matter what peeta would say to her or how many people were there to worship her, everything seemed insignificant when she was face to face with you. and you felt exactly the same. that empty hole in your chest that had appeared when katniss had volunteered all those weeks ago was suddenly full. with her return to district 12, katniss everdeen has also returned your heart.
she finally started toward you, slowly at first, and then faster. it didn’t matter who was watching, whether it was peeta or the capitol or the whole world, she had a primitive need to be with you. and you would accept her with open arms.
she tightly hugged your shoulders, her grip so strong that you couldn’t have pulled away even if you wanted to. she pulled your body into hers and kept your face close to hers so that your noses were nearly touching.
your hands found solace holding each side of her face. she knew how powerful your hands were from all the times you had been hunting together so it meant even more when you were able to hold her so gently. you always touched her like she was glass that would break in your hands if you weren’t careful. she relished the feeling; no one had ever treated her so softly and made her feel so special, not peeta, not gale.
when you felt her warm skin beneath your fingers, everything felt all the more real. she was really there. she had really survived the deadliest of arenas and now she was here with you. she was here for you.
you shared a single loving gaze, one that conveyed every emotion. you shared your sorrow, your pain, your excitement, your joy, your newfound relaxation. you shared your bare love with each other.
only then did she press her lips to yours in a feverish kiss. your lips fit perfectly as your tears merged into a single stream. you disregarded air and molded yourselves into each other, willing the moment to live on forever.
a single thought entered katniss’ mind, one that would’ve sounded crazy to anyone but her:
she would’ve done it all over again if it meant coming home to you.
omg i’m so sorry that i haven’t been writing any requests i have 9 sitting in my inbox 😭
the next story will prob be camille from house of usher and then i’ll work on those requests starting with naomi from wolf of wall street
i’ll try to be better y’all 😔
#katniss everdeen#katniss everdeen x reader#katniss everdeen x fem!reader#the hunger games#the hunger games x reader#katniss#katniss everdeen imagines#katniss everdeen oneshot#hunger games imagines#hunger games oneshot#thg#thg katniss#thg fanfiction#hunger games#thg x reader#katniss x reader#peeta mellark#peeta#finnick odair#johanna mason#katniss x you#katniss everdeen x you
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I love johanna mason, could you do something like reader was In the hunger games before her and they met when Johanna won, and they got close like close and then the 75th hunger games come and both of them get pick to go in. You can choose which districts she from, but maybe just her and johanna In the arena together. (Sorry, it's a lot)
The Calm in the Storm
pairing: johanna mason x reader
warnings: blood, canon typical violence, slight mention of ptsd
word count: 1.6k
summary: You have an effect on Johanna that no one else does. In other words, Katniss should thank you for saving her life from the rage of your girlfriend.
a/n: thanks anon for sending this request in!! this is my first time writing for johanna and the hunger games so it might be a little ooc or rough lol, but i hope u all enjoy this lil story :))
“Someone’s here,” Katniss alerted, immediately drawing an arrow from her quiver.
You stayed behind the younger girl, barely peeking over her shoulder as Finnick looked on through the leaves.
When Finnick had first approached you about the alliance with the District 12 tributes, you were hesitant. But as he further explained Plutarch’s plan, the more willing you became.
Despite being the same age as you, Finnick was your mentor when you won your games, so you trusted his gut. After all, he was a big reason you were still alive.
“Johanna,” you barely heard him mutter. Before you could even register the three distant figures, Finnick took over running. “Johanna!”
“Finnick!” Johanna’s voice echoed across the beach, piercing through your foggy thoughts.
“Johanna?” you whispered to yourself before you pushed past Katniss and took off running behind Finnick, leaving a bewildered pair of victors behind you.
As you got closer, you noticed she was covered in blood and you felt your chest tighten. “Johanna,” you swallowed the knot in your throat, fearing the possibility she had been severely injured.
“It’s not mine,” she reassured, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. You saw her guard soften for a brief second before shooting right back up as Peeta and Katniss approached.
“Well, I got them out,” Johanna turned back towards Finnick. “We were all the way deep into the jungle, where I thought it was gonna be safe.
“That’s when the rain started. I thought it was water. Turned out to be blood,” she explained as Wiress continued to repeat “tick tock” over and over again.
“Hot, thick blood,” Johanna moved the older woman out of her way, clearly not wanting to be touched. “It was coming down. It was choking us. We were stumbling around, gagging on it, blind.”
You took a few steps towards her with the hopes of trying to calm her down. Wiress continued to mutter the same two words, starting to irk even you.
“That’s when Blight hit the force field,” Johanna took a deep breath, and you tentatively put your hand on the small of her back. She visibly calmed for a moment, closing her eyes and leaning her head back. “He wasn’t much, but he was from home.”
“Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock,” Wiress put a hand on Johanna’s shoulder, and you could see the annoyance written across Johanna’s face; her patience was wearing thin.
“What’s wrong with her?” Katniss furrowed her brows.
“She’s in shock,” Beetee explained from the water. “Dehydration isn’t helping. Do you have fresh water?”
“We can get some,” Katniss answered.
Wiress braced both hands on Johanna’s shoulders, desperately pleading, “Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.”
Backing up from the pair, you watched as Johanna threw the older woman to the sand.
“Hey! Get off her!” Katniss yelled, moving quickly to push Johanna. Your eyes widened. You knew this could end dangerously for both women if the situation wasn’t deescalated. Quickly, you shot Finnick a glance, urging him to do something, to which he gave you a small nod.
“Hey! What are you doing?” Johanna protested, as she tried to defend herself.
Before more shoves could be thrown, or before weapons could be drawn, Finnick stepped in separating the two, “Hey, hey, hey,” he pulled away a screaming Johanna, moving her towards you.
“I got them out for you!”
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Finnick murmured, his arms still wrapped around her.
“Let me go, Finnick!” she yelled, trying to shrug him off.
This time, it was his turn to shoot you a glance over her head, telling you it was your turn to take over.
“Let me go,” Johanna ordered, and you raised your eyebrows at Finnick, who relented, releasing her, “I’m fine.”
“Jo,” you held out your hand with the smallest of smiles, “come on.”
As she looked down at your hand, you saw a wave of tension leave Johanna’s body. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed your hand and let you pull her towards the water.
“Let’s get you washed off,” you suggested, the two of you already waist deep in the water. “Lie back.”
Johanna rolled her eyes childishly and grumbled, “I’m not a child, (Y/N).”
“I know, Johanna,” you agreed with a hum, running your thumb across the back of her hand you still held. “Just let me take care of you.”
Johanna visibly softened, squeezing your hand as an apology. You were the only person who put her as their first priority. Even Finnick, though he had a huge heart of gold, had Annie. But you, you always looked out for her.
The two of you met the year after Johanna won her games when you were both mentors. Though many were put off by her abrasiveness and sarcasm, you knew that it was all just a facade. You, too, had spent the years after your games and during your mentoring creating a persona for the capitol.
You were drawn to Johanna’s intelligence and strength, not to mention her beauty of course, so you made the effort to get to know her, the real Johanna.
While she was wary of you at the first, cautious of your charm and outgoing nature, Johanna realized that that was your own coping mechanism for dealing with your trauma.
As both of you let your walls down for each other, you became closer and closer, realizing what you had was beyond friendship. You loved her, and she loved you.
You were the one to comfort her after she woke up screaming from nightmares, or to train with her in the late hours when she couldn’t sleep. And you always listened and validated her feelings, even when they were being yelled and cursed aloud.
And Johanna, she was the one to protect you from anything and everything, even Finnick, when he pinned you during sparring. She was the one who held you when you cried, soothingly whispering calming words. And Johanna, no matter what, always said ‘I love you’ before the day ended.
In a world that didn’t care, the two of you found solace in each other.
Johanna followed your order and lied back in the water so she was floating, your hand offering support on the small of her back.
“Close,” you hummed as Johanna shut her eyes. Carefully, you splashed water over her face and cleaned off the blood that coated her skin. “Open.”
Opening her eyes, Johanna was met with the sight of you and she swore she could cry.
Despite cuts and dirt littering your face and sweat clinging to your hair, she swore you looked more beautiful than ever. You wore an endearing smile as you looked down at her, gently guiding her head back so her hair was soaked in the water.
As you ran your hand through her hair, watching the blood dye the blue water, Johanna hummed.
“Penny for your thoughts?” you lightly scratched her scalp.
“My thoughts are worth a lot more than that, (Y/N/N),” Johanna smirked, causing you to chuckle and roll your eyes.
“Do you think it’ll be worth it?” Her voice became more solemn and her lips pursed together.
“What?”
“Saving Katniss,” she let out a dry laugh as she moved to stand up right in the water. “This whole Mockingjay rebellion.”
You stayed quiet for a moment, her question raising all the doubts you had when Finnick originally proposed this plan to you.
“I hope so,” you whispered, pulling her closer by her waist so you were nearly hugging. “I’m done being a piece in their games, aren’t you?”
Johanna nodded but didn’t say anything. Furrowing your brows, you used the pad of your thumb to wipe a streak of blood that was still on her cheek.
“Love?” you prodded.
“Do you ever wonder why one of us wasn’t the Mockingjay?”
“Johanna,” you sighed, trailing off.
“I mean I get why not me,” she continued. “Nobody likes me. But you…?”
“Hey!” you protested, wrapping your arms around her neck. “I like you.”
Johanna bit back a genuine smile. “Thank god for that,” she cupped your cheek and connected your lips. Despite the saltiness from the water and the faint metallic taste lingering from the blood rain, you could still taste the pine from the District 7 Johanna carried everywhere – one more thing from home.
“Hey, lovebirds,” Finnick shouted from the beach, causing the two of you to break apart, and you rested your forehead against hers. “Katniss has something!”
Johanna sighed before pecking your lips quickly, wanting to savor the moment.
“Come on,” you took her hand as the two of you waded towards the shore. “It sounds important.”
As you reached the dry sand, Johanna pulled you back before you could reach the others. “Hey.”
“Yeah?” you turned back around, concern laced in your voice.
“I love you,” she stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
You grinned, wrapping her in a tight hug. “I love you too,” you whispered into the crook of her neck.
“Let’s go see what the girl on fire wants,” Johanna teased as you separated.
You could only roll your eyes as she smirked, the two of you rejoining the group.
As Katniss explained that the arena was some sort of clock, you remained close by Johanna’s side, basking in the warmth she radiated. Listening to the explanation, you felt everything to click into place, only causing your anxiety to heighten. Johanna, being able to read you like a book, discretely interlaced your fingers with hers and gave your hand a quick squeeze, helping ease your nerves slightly.
Amidst the chaos and brutality of the games, you were grateful to have her to ground you; and for Johanna, you were the calm in the storm.
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☼ drowning in love (Johanna Mason) ☼
summary; you promised Johanna you'd support her with anything she needed when she came back from the Capitol.
warnings; swearing, they shower together, torture mention.
wc; 1.6k
–
“I’ve changed my mind.” Johanna says, you tilt your head at her, unamused.
The two of you are currently inside of, what must be, the smallest bathroom you’ve ever seen. You thought that when the medical team of Thirteen said they had a private bathroom, they meant something bigger. You weren’t expecting it to be the same size as the bathrooms in the Capitol, but at least half that. It isn’t, though. Everything in here has been crammed to ensure that every inch of space is used.
Johanna’s sitting on the toilet lid, hunched over in her towel, arms wrapped around her abdomen to make herself smaller. You’re standing directly in front of her, your kneecaps touching hers because there is nowhere else to stand in here. You’re lucky that there’s even enough room for the two of you to shower together in the first place.
“Babe, that’s what you said ten minutes ago, you can’t keep changing your mind.”
She shakes her head, staring at the floor, “I’m not ready.”
“You’re going to have to do it either way.” You tell her, “If you don’t do it with me, then the nurses will do it, and they don’t really care about your feelings.”
She meets your eyes, “They’ll sedate me.”
“And then you miss out on an opportunity to start the process of healing. You can’t keep pushing it back. What will you do when the rebellion’s over and we’re no longer in Thirteen? There won’t be anyone to sedate you.” You raise your eyebrows.
“You will, if I put up a big enough fight.” She says, you think you can see a smile hinting at the corners of her lips. She’s not entirely joking, though. She knows that you don’t like seeing her in pain.
“You’ll be okay, I’ll be right here.”
“Except, I don’t want to go in there alone. What if—what if I have an episode?” She asks, you watch her shudder.
“Do you want me to go in with you?” You ask, “You know I will.”
“What if I attack you? Like Peeta did to Katniss?”
“You won’t. They didn’t use tracker jacker venom on you.” You say, “And the doctors would’ve caught it by now.”
Johanna begins to bite on her bottom lip, face contorting while she thinks. She knows you’re right, but she doesn’t want to admit it. She just wants to find a way out to avoid having to face the water. And you understand why, the issue is that you won’t be putting up with sponge baths for the rest of your life.
Her eyes dart to the door momentarily, possibly planning an escape. She won’t make it far, not with you standing in front of it. She wouldn’t be able to pull it open before you have her on her ass again.
“Johanna, the water can’t hurt you.” You slide down the wall, taking her hands in yours, “You know you’ll have control in there. You’ll be able to move the shower head off to the side if you can’t handle it, and change the temperature if it’s too close to what they used in the Capitol.”
She presses her lips together, “I don’t want to freak out, (Y/n).”
“You won’t. I’ll get in there with you. You’ll be safe with me in there, you know I would never let anything happen to you, not when I’m right there.” You squeeze her hands.
She nods.
“It’s only a few minutes, we’re just getting your body washed. You’ll feel so much better once the grime is gone, and you’re washing away their touch.”
“Okay.” Johanna breathes.
“Okay.” You echo, letting go of her hands as you get back to your feet.
You slide the glass door open, leaning in to turn the shower on. You can feel her hands grip around your wrist when the water starts. And without you even saying anything, she begins to take deep breaths in through her nose, and exhales through her mouth. A technique she was taught by the head doctor, it looks like she’s paying attention after all.
You guide her hand to the water slowly so she can feel the temperature, adjusting it the way she tells you to. She goes on the hotter side, staying away from the warm to cold range. You’ll have to keep that in mind for the future.
“Alright,” You hold your hand out to her.
“Can you go in first?” She asks.
“Johanna, if you run out of the bathroom, I’m going to be pissed.” You tell her.
“I won’t. You’ll be closer to the water.” She says, “Please?”
You watch her for a couple of seconds, gauging whether or not she’s telling the truth, and find that she is. You pull your hair up, figuring that you’d rather accidentally get the ends wet than your whole head. You then take off District Thirteen’s jumpsuit, and the underwear underneath.
You keep a hand on Johanna when you open the glass door, backing inside a few steps. This forces her to her feet, where she uses a shaky hand to release the towel, letting it fall to the floor.
“It’s only a couple of minutes.” You remind her, “One step at a time.”
“I know.” She breathes, “I don’t think I can get my face wet.”
“How about we do your collarbones and down?” You ask, “Does that sound okay?”
She hums in agreement, coming into the shower. She slides the door shut behind her, and you watch her begin to take deeper breaths. You reach back to feel how close the water is, and find it only an inch further back.
“How do you want to do this?” You ask her, “You have to face the water.”
“Just my back right now.” She closes her eyes.
You move her around, slowly backing her into the water, watching as her face twists at the anticipation. When it begins to rain down on her back, she jumps slightly, a shudder running through her body. You can see the goosebumps rise on her arms.
You step closer, placing your hands on her hips, watching her face. She’s got her eyes closed, trying to focus on not freaking out. She moves slightly to allow the water on her shoulders and down her sides.
“Do you think I’ll be better by the end of the rebellion?” She asks.
“If we keep working on it, it’ll be a step in the right direction.” You tell her, “It won’t happen overnight Johanna, as much as I know you wish it would.”
“I wish he’d chosen something else.” She mutters, eyebrows drawing in, “The District borders will finally be down and we won’t even be able to see the ocean. Finnick makes me so jealous when he talks about how beautiful the beach is. And all we’ve got are fuckin’ trees.”
“That’ll be our goal, then.” You say, she opens her eyes, “To go visit Annie and Finnick on the beach.”
“That could take years, (Y/n).” She says.
“Good thing we’re gonna live for a while.” You smile, she lets out a laugh, “Ready to turn around?”
She nods, you let go of her hips, allowing her to turn around to face the water. She lets out a breath, hesitating.
“I didn’t take you as a beach person.” You say, hoping it’ll take her mind off of the shower water, and instead put her somewhere else. She doesn’t move for a second, before stepping forward. You place your hands on her hips again.
“Yeah, well, neither did I. Finnick talks about the summers there, how he and his family would jump off the docks as kids. The water is cold and refreshing. The sand is warm, and sometimes too hot to walk on with bare feet.” She murmurs, reaching over to grab the bar of soap on the shelf, you smile slightly. “They build sandcastles and play games. It’s like a picnic we have at home, but on the beach. And the best part is the sunsets apparently.”
“I think Finnick just wants us to move there.” You laugh.
“Probably.” She agrees, “I wouldn’t mind, Annie and Finnick are our best friends. It’d be nice to be close to torture them often.”
“I’m sure it’s an option.” You say, “Even if you’re not ready to see the water, I’m sure they have houses away from the water.”
She pauses, “You’d move there with me?”
“Where else would I go?” You laugh, “Do you think I’d stay in Seven?”
“Well, no.” She says, carefully rubbing the soap over her skin. It’s still tender from the scabs that have recently fallen off. “I just thought you’d be more against it.”
“We’ve lived in Seven our whole lives, I’m sure it’ll be okay if we move somewhere new for a while.” You tell her.
“That’s true.”
You lather her back in soap, so it’s less effort for her. She rinses the scentless bubbles down the drain, and then steps out to dry herself off. You get rid of the soap that she’d accidentally gotten on you, before shutting the water off.
When you step out, you’re able to see Johanna wiping her eyes, sniffing. She looks at your briefly, eyes already turning red.
“Hey,” You pull the spare towel around your body, before pulling her into a hug. She wraps her arms around you, letting out a sob. “It was so easy, you didn’t even think about it.”
“I know.” She places her forehead on your shoulder, “I know, I’m afraid it won’t be like this every time.”
“It can be, though.” You press a kiss to her cheek, squeezing her tighter, “And I’ll be here with you the entire time, I promise.”
#ilguna#johanna mason#johanna mason imagine#johanna mason oneshot#johanna mason x reader#johanna mason fanfic#johanna mason x yn#johanna mason x y/n#johanna mason x you#johanna imagine#johanna oneshot#johanna fanfic#johanna x reader#johanna x yn#johanna x y/n#johanna x you#thg#the hunger games#fluff#requested
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botany major!katniss, who isn’t so good with her words, so she gifts you flowers that correlate with what she’s feeling. you walk hand in hand through the woods as she points out different plants, rambling on about how to recognize various species and their distribution patterns.
fine arts major!peeta, working tirelessly at his family’s bakery, making personalized latte art which leaves him with huge tips at the end of the day. all of his peers recognize you as the inspiration for all of his assignments, your features taking up every bit of his sketchbook.
mechanical engineering major!gale, his schedule so full and busy but always making time to see you daily. you’re always the first to hear about how he did on a particular exam, cuddled up as you watch nature documentaries.
aquatic biology major!finnick, known around campus as the university heartthrob. he spends most of his free time at the docks or the beach, feet always bare and buried underwater, occasionally splashing you playfully. suntanning and writing your initials in the sand is how your dates usually go.
athletic training major!johanna, who caresses your sleeping features and plants a small kiss on your forehead before leaving for her morning run. she teasingly flexes her muscles while you’re applying kinesiology tape on her body.
#the hunger games#thg#katniss everdeen#peeta mellark#gale hawthorne#finnick odair#johanna mason#katniss x reader#peeta x reader#gale x reader#finnick x reader#johanna x reader#the hunger games imagine#katniss everdeen x reader#peeta mellark x reader#gale hawthorne x reader#finnick odair x reader#johanna mason x reader#i have so many ideas for this but decided to keep it brief for the time being#part 2 of thg x present day uni students au
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I'm Coming For You and I'm Making War [Johanna Mason/Reader] (2/4)
Summary: An orphan from District 10 was no one's pick to win the 68th Hunger Games, but you managed to prove them wrong. You're not impressed with the glitz and glamor of the Capitol and you certainly don't want any of the expectations that come with being a Victor. Not even Finnick Odair's friendship can make you feel any less alone until you meet Johanna Mason. She's everything you didn't know you needed, but when rebellion stirs in the districts after Katniss Everdeen's act of defiance in the 74th Hunger Games that guaranteed not only her survival but Peeta Mellark's as well, it turns out that you might have to face Johanna, Finnick, and everyone you've grown to care about in the 75th Hunger Games.
Word Count: 9k
Author's Notes: Thank you to everyone who has given this a chance so far. I've had to split up the Catching Fire chapters, so this is now 4 parts instead of 3. Please let me know by commenting/leaving kudos if you liked this. Low reader engagement has killed so much of my motivation for fics before and I'm genuinely excited about this one. 💖
Part One -- Part Two -- Part Three -- Part Four
#the hunger games#thg#johanna mason#johanna mason x reader#reader insert#hunger games imagine#johanna mason imagine#johanna mason x you#imagine#finnick odair#katniss everdeen#x reader#hunger games fanfiction#i'm coming for you and i'm making war fic#my fic
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