#ilguna
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☼ whisper of the beast (Finnick Odair) ☼
summary; on your own, you try to find your boyfriend in the arena. instead, you run across something much, much worse.
warnings; swearing, death, weapon usage, ehhh gore, blood mention.
wc; 2.5k
prompt; 11. "Just keep breathing. In and out. You're doing great."
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There is something seriously horrifying going on with this arena, and each time you think you get close to figuring it out—it changes.
The only consistent factor in each of your theories is the jungle, and that’s because it’s the root of the fear. When you travel through the greenery for long periods of time, a creeping feeling grows on you, one that you can’t shake unless you make your way back to the beach.
Which is far from safe, itself. Especially since there are nine other tributes alive here, roaming around, hunting for lone victors. For it only being the second day of the Games, it’s remarkable that so many are dead, already. With six of them dying today, alone.
It makes you think that you’re being overly paranoid, because you’re out here by yourself. It’s a completely new experience to you. The first time around, during your Games, the Career alliance lasted up until the very last second. You never had to keep an eye out for yourself, because you had others with you that were doing the same thing.
You were under the impression that you’d be doing that for these Games, too, but nothing has gone according to plan. You and Finnick had a long discussion the night of the interviews on what to expect regarding corralling Katniss and Peeta into the alliance. Neither of you thought it would be easy. Worst case scenario, you’d grab one and he’d get the other, and the two of you would meet up somewhere in the middle.
The Gamemakers really must have it out for you this year, determined to keep you and Finnick apart. That’s why they decided to put you on the opposite side of the Cornucopia, keeping you from seeing Finnick. While also putting Brutus in your water wedge, to ensure that you wouldn’t be able to reach him.
By the time you fought off Brutus and got to the Cornucopia, all three of them were gone. The only option you had left was to wait for Johanna and Blight, but with them still in the water and the Careers coming to take over, you had to leave. There wasn’t a choice in the matter.
Since, you’ve spent your time traveling through the jungle and taking the occasional rest on the beach, in the hopes that you’ll run across your boyfriend. The search was casual yesterday, as you were more worried about finding drinking water than the rebel alliance. Now that the numbers are spiraling, you know that the rescue plan is right around the corner.
You’re confident enough to say that they won’t do it today, but it’s got to be tomorrow or the day after. They won’t have Katniss and Peeta openly in danger like this for longer than they have to. You likely have less than forty-eight hours to find them, or else you’ll get trapped in here and taken by the Capitol.
You would say that you wish you had a general idea on which direction they went in yesterday, but it probably won’t make much of a difference. With the amount of people dying in these trees, you’re sure Finnick is directing them the opposite way, just in case.
It’s another reason why you can’t stand to be in the jungle for long periods of time. From what you’ve gathered, at least half of the tributes that have died today so far, have come from somewhere in the trees. It makes you think that something is out here, and it’s more than just a rogue tribute.
In fact, it would make more sense for it to be a mutt of some kind. In the last Quarter Quell, they were everywhere. There was not a single animal that a tribute could trust to be friendly. On top of that, there were aspects of the arena that took them by surprise.
It appeared to be the most breathtaking place imaginable. The Cornucopia was in the middle of a vibrantly green meadow, the sky a perfect blue, with fluffy white clouds. In the distance, there was a snow capped mountain, one that looked straight out of a picture book. On the other side, a healthy forest with plants you couldn’t name.
Of course, it was all too good to be true. The mountain was revealed to be a deadly volcano, the plants were poisonous, the water was infected with a disease, the insects stung and the flowers could kill when inhaled too closely. Everything that was placed in that arena was working against them.
Who’s to say it’s not the same for this one?
You pause next to a nearby tree to rest your feet, because they’re throbbing in your shoes. You lift one, stretching your thigh, feeling the immediate relief that comes with being off the foot. After a minute, you switch, but it doesn’t feel as good this time around.
When you reach up to run a hand through your hair to smooth it back, you find that your scalp is wet, soaked from sweating so much. It feels much hotter today than it was yesterday, like the Gamemakers are trying to boil you alive. It’s brutal enough being in here, do they really need to make it any worse?
You dip your head, eyes closed while you take a deep breath, sighing it out. You return to walking, paying attention to where you place your feet.
It might make more sense for you to go down to the beach and wait for Finnick, Katniss and Peeta to show up. The issue is that you’re not willing to take the risk of the Careers spotting you while you’re down there. The four of them could easily get you pinned down. You’ll be dead before you can call for help.
A branch rustling behind you makes your next step stutter. Your eyes widen, as you slowly look across the fern in front of you, to the left of your vision. With sensitive ears, you adjust the spear in your hand, turning your body halfway to look behind you, at the tree you were just standing at.
There’s nothing.
You take a minute to search the trees around you, backtracking to get a better look. Even if it’s just a critter, you want to know. If there’s living animals out here, that means there’s a water source—and you won’t have to depend on your sponsors to keep you hydrated.
There’s not a trace. At least, that’s what you think, until your eyes catch the hoof print in the mud. Your face contorts, you drop into a crouch to get closer, curious on what could’ve made a mark like this. As far as your knowledge on the jungle goes, there shouldn’t be anything that could leave this behind.
The goosebumps that crawl up your arms are involuntary, stomach dropping. The safety blanket that the jungle had been providing seconds ago, is gone now. There’s something in here with you, and it was smart enough to run when it made noise.
You raise your head, thinking about the best way to handle this situation, when your heart seizes in your chest.
What the fuck is that.
In one fluid movement, you jump to your feet, turning in the direction of the beach, and beginning to sprint down the slope. A screech cuts through the previously quiet air, piercing your ears enough to make you wince at the pitch.
And then you can hear it galloping behind you, hands and feet pounding against the spongy jungle ground. A scream rises in your throat, terrified to look behind you to see how fast this thing actually is.
You take the chance when you swing around a tree, stealing a glance over your shoulder.
Whatever it is, it’s demonic.
You’ve never seen anything like it. It’s coming at you on all fours, there’s hooves where its feet should be, with long and pointed nails on its fingers. Its fur is so black that you can’t make out where its eyes are, or if it has any skin exposed at all. It’s a beast straight out of one of your nightmares.
It isn’t fast by any means, but it’s not slow, either.
You can hear it tearing up a path behind you, trampling through the bushes, ripping bark off trees. As the path between the trees narrows, the jungle becomes more condensed. You hear less of it coming in contact with the ground, thumping replacing the noise.
Until it stops altogether.
Your instincts take over, jerking to the right, shoulder slamming into the tree. You watch in silence as the beast flies by where you were a second ago, claws out and ready to latch on. It comes into contact with the ground about ten feet away, head whipping unnaturally to see over its shoulder.
“No, no!” You let out, beginning to weave through the trees.
A snarl rips through its throat at the idea of you outsmarting it. It’s coming for you, and there’s nothing you can do besides run for your life and dodge it each time it tries to attack.
You play this game for what feels like an hour, but it can’t be more than twenty minutes. You make it half a mile down the slope, knowing that the beach can’t be that far away from where you are, when you realize that it’s gone. The monster that has been chasing you has given up.
You lean over your knees, mouth watering, throat beginning to close. As you gasp for air, your body tries to expel some of the heat by making you sweat, but all that’s doing is making you sick. You think you might throw up.
Right as you’ve come to terms with losing all the water and food in your body, spit falling from your mouth in long strings, a shadow on the ground grows larger. Your face twists, thinking that something must be falling, like a leaf.
It hits you, literally, flattening you against the ground, head hitting the dirt. It digs in, nails cutting through skin as it tears through your back and arms, shredding your jumpsuit. A scream leaves your lips, a white hot and blinding pain smothering you all at once.
Your hand tightens around the spear, cheek against Earth as the beast presses into your shoulders, keeping you from moving. Still, with the small amount of mobility you have, you swing the head of the spear up, toward yourself, narrowly missing your left shoulder.
It lodges into the beast, causing it to roar in pain. You shove the pole further back, hoping that it pushes into its body deeper. The weight on your shoulders disappears, you can hear it stumbling away.
In the window you have, you get back to your feet, ignoring the screaming pain your entire backside is in. You just need to make it to the beach, it’s not that far away, you’ve covered this distance in your sleep before. It’s harder to do, though, when every hard step you take makes you grit your teeth to keep from crying out.
The beast is catching up with you, recovering from its wound. It’s faster than you are, and it’s completely disregarding everything in its path. Nothing can slow it down. You can see the golden sand through the trees, you’re almost there.
A body jumps out from behind a bush, making you run into it. For a moment, you’re sure that it’s an exact replica of the monster behind you, but once you realize that you’re staring at another tribute jumpsuit, the panic subsides. But only for a second.
“Move!” You shriek, trying to get around him. He grabs the sides of your arms, holding you there.
You look up, finding that you’re standing face to face with the male tribute from Ten—someone who is not part of the rebel alliance, and doesn’t care whether or not you make it out alive. When you glance over your shoulder, you can see that the beast is getting closer. It’s not going to stop until it gets its hands on somebody.
And it won’t be you.
The only choice you have is to sacrifice him, so that’s exactly what you do. You jerk him around, switching places with him, forcing his back to the beast. His eyes widen, mouth opening to say something, when you pull back from him, lifting your leg to kick him in the chest.
The beast takes him gratefully, landing on his back. He stumbles forward, struggling under the weight of the beast. You watch in horror as its jaws unhinge, revealing razor sharp teeth. It throws its head back, before whipping forward, mouth securing around the tribute’s neck.
And with no resistance, he rips out a chunk of the flesh. A spray of blood hits you in the face, and it coats the jungle floor. You back away with wide eyes, watching as Ten’s legs can’t hold him up anymore, body collapsing in the dirt beneath the beast.
A cannon fires.
You turn, making the final push for the beach before it can come after you, too.
The moment your feet hit the sand, it begins to drag you down, keeping you from running as far away as your mind is screaming for you to go. You make it a few feet before landing on your hands and knees, sucking in sharp breaths and letting them out aggressively.
That was almost you. That could’ve been you.
You try to crawl, hands forming in fists in the sand, tears falling from your eyes.
“(Y/n)?” You hear. There’s a headache forming, black spots coming to eat away at the corners of your vision. “(Y/n), hey.”
A hand touching your lower back makes you swing a hand up to get them off. Your wrist is caught, eyes meeting Finnick’s, finding him worried.
“You’re okay, honey. I’m right here.” He pulls at your elbow to make you sit up on your knees.
You grab onto his shoulder, struggling to breathe, “It—it… The—”
Finnick takes your hand placing it against his chest. “Follow me.” He takes a deep breath, you try to follow, stuttering. He blows it out, you sob. “Come on, (Y/n). Just keep breathing. In and out.” You mimic his breaths, allowing them to even out. “You’re doing great.”
“Finnick.” You cry, head falling forward.
He cups your face with both hands, lifting your head. He’s only a couple inches away from you. “You’re safe with me, I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” He wipes your tears away with his thumbs. “Do you want to tell me what’s in there?”
You look away, eyes too intense to stare into. “A monster.”
--
this was part of my 3k celebration!!
#ilguna#finnick odair#finnick odair imagine#finnick odair fanfic#finnick odair oneshot#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair x you#finnick odair x yn#finnick odair x y/n#finnick imagine#finnick oneshot#finnick fanfic#finnick x reader#finnick x you#finnick x yn#finnick x y/n#thg#the hunger games#3k celebration#angst#requested
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BE NICE TO CORALIE, YA COWARDLY BITCH.
i love u bb
thanks babes 🥰
love you too!
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i’m coming here to tell you that i love the way you have your blog theme set up. post office? courthouse? extra extra? it’s beautiful and i love it 😩💛
ahhh thank you!! it took me forever to figure out names for everything lol 🥰💙
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☼ one true love (Peeta Mellark) ☼
summary; to everyone else, you're nothing but a rebound to Peeta. to Peeta, you are his one true love.
warnings; swearing, death mention.
wc; 3k
notes; no katniss slander, but there is gale slander ;)
–
The nerves are eating you from the inside out. One minute you think you’re going to be sick all over the concrete floor, so you’re in the bathroom hanging your head over the toilet. The next minute, you’re back on your feet, pacing back and forth in front of the door. You can’t sit still anymore, it’s not an option.
What are you supposed to say to him? It’s only a matter of time before he lands in District Thirteen with the other captured victors. Will he even want to see you? Is Katniss going to be the first person he asks for? You saw him on the television a few days ago, he was talking about her, worried about her wellbeing.
The last time you saw each other was before the Quarter Quell reaping. It was brief, because he needed to go on stage, and you were late traveling from your neighborhood to get to the Justice Building. All he did was kiss you, and then he was gone.
You think he was expecting to say goodbye, like the Peacekeepers usually allow, but when you tried to go inside, they told you that the rules changed. And before you could think to start running to the train station, they told you that there was no farewell there, either. That was it.
You couldn’t breathe, you were sure that would be the last time you’d ever see him, and it was cut short because you couldn’t leave the house a couple minutes earlier. But you were so, so mad at him for the months leading up to the reaping. It was a nightmare being with him.
His time was consumed with training, he was constantly talking about volunteering over Haymitch if the opportunity presented itself. He wouldn’t listen to a single thing you said. You hardly spent time with him, and when you did, you would’ve been happier by yourself. He became a new person, one you didn’t recognize, one that didn’t seem to like the idea of you half the time.
You almost didn’t want to go to the reaping. You knew what was to come, what was the point of showing up, besides to avoid getting in trouble with the Peacekeepers? And then all he could do was kiss you, because he was so pressed for time. He didn’t say anything to you.
Suddenly, you turned the anger onto yourself, because you couldn’t believe you were so stupid to miss such a vital moment with him.
You tried to make up for it. Even though the week leading up to the Quell was chaotic in District Twelve, as much as you were afraid to leave your house to see the mandatory viewings, you still did. You saw him everyday in the Square, and each time you got your heart broken because it was like it was never an act between him and Katniss.
You thought it was bad enough the first time around, because he didn’t know your feelings yet, and he was putting on this real show for the Capitol, but it’s so much worse, knowing that he feels the same way for you.
When you and Peeta had started talking again after he won the Hunger Games, your parents warned you that it would end up being a mistake. They knew how you felt about him before he was reaped, and how it wouldn’t change before he came back—if he came back. Even if he was kissing Katniss Everdeen in front of Panem.
They were right about your feelings, of course. You and Peeta were close friends for years. You had classes together in school, and you’d hang out in the bakery every day after school. You’d sit there for hours, doing your homework, while also watching him pipe designs onto cakes and cookies for those who could afford to buy it.
You didn’t think he noticed the way you’d watch him throughout the day. The way his eyes would light up when talking about something he liked. Or maybe a new technique he discovered when making designs on cakes. How carefree he looked when doodling on his papers. The amount of times there would be a mini portrait of you in the corner of them.
While your whole day was centered around him, he had other things on his mind, like Katniss. Well, that’s how you felt when he announced his love for her in the interview. And then he came back with her, breaking the rules of the Hunger Games, completely enamoured with her. When you hadn’t gone to visit him in a whole two weeks after, he showed up at your door to see you, to make sure that you were okay. You tried to shrug him off, but he didn’t take that as an answer.
You thought that if you held him at arms-length, that it would be a distance between you two. If you’re not close, then there would be no point in keeping you around. After all, he does have other friends—other people he can surround himself with.
Fortunately for you, it didn’t work. You honestly should’ve known that it wouldn’t, because out of all the friends you’ve had since growing up, Peeta has by far been the most loyal out of them. He’s still here, and he’s seen you go through the motions. That’s why he figured out that he hurt you in some way while he was gone.
He refused to leave you alone, he later told you that you were one of his last friendships he had since he won. Everyone else wasn’t seeing him the same way you did. While you saw him as human, and virtually the same person you had before he left, others saw him as the victim.
You remember being so flustered admitting your feelings to him. The hot feeling in your face, the tears that threatened to take over your eyes. The way your throat clogged, and the words croaked out. You didn’t even want to look him in the eyes, afraid to see his reaction, but it’s like you couldn’t look away. You needed to see the raw reaction in case he lied to you.
Peeta smiled.
It took a lot of explaining from him to get you to see how he was thinking after he was reaped. He needed help from sponsors, which meant that he had to play the Capitol in some way. And while what he said to Caesar in the interview wasn’t completely false, it wasn’t true either. He wasn’t settled on Katniss, because he knew if he won, he had someone better at home; you.
He wasn’t anticipating coming back with her. If he’d known, he would’ve played it differently. Katniss was completely indifferent to him, and he realized that after she looked for him once the announcement was made. As for you, he knew that if you were there with him, you wouldn’t have left his side, not even for a second.
He was happy you felt the same way he did, but he warned you that if you two started seeing each other more seriously, and possibly started dating, a lot of people would be unhappy. And at the end of the day, you could be one of those people. He wanted a relationship as much as you did, but the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you in the process.
Since that day, he tried to do everything he could to keep you, while also keeping the peace with the Capitol, even if they didn’t know what was happening between the two of you. There was a lecture from Haymitch—a man that you thought you’d never have to meet in your life—telling you that you’d have to be extremely careful to keep it from the Peacekeepers.
The Victory Tour was rough, considering he did a complete one-eighty with Katniss for the cameras. It got worse when you watched him propose to her in the Capitol. He didn’t tell you that this was planned, and he promised to keep you up to date if he could. You were nauseated for the rest of the week, really afraid that you’d done it to yourself.
You were the first person he came to see when he got back from the tour. From the moment you opened the door, it was a string of apologies, and a tight hug, reassuring you that it's not what he wanted. Him and Katniss were in trouble, and they were trying to do damage control.
You watched all the mandatory viewings of Katniss trying on her dresses, the ones the Capitol liked the most, over the others. That was fine, it was easier to stomach, knowing that Katniss felt like she was playing dress-up for them. What wasn’t okay, was what happened next.
You were sitting with Peeta on the couch the night the Quarter Quell was announced. You two thought it was just another dress preview, and the rest of the night, you two were supposed to hang out. Then Snow said all the existing victors would be going back into the pool.
You remember seeing the color drain from his face, and panic seized his body. You opened your mouth to speak, but he was already excusing himself. He needed to talk to Haymitch, and it was a fairly long walk from your house to Victor’s Village. He pressed a quick kiss to your lips, and then he was gone. And you were left sitting in your living room, watching the Capitol react to the same news you’d just heard, wondering if they knew the effect this would cause.
It’s been a downward spiral since that day. You watched him go through that first week in the Capitol again, and it ended with him announcing Katniss’ fake pregnancy. You were inconsolable, watching him survive the cornucopia, just to almost die a few hours later because of a forcefield.
It was hard to swallow, but it was nothing compared to the fact that District Twelve was bombed on the third day. You don’t know how Gale knew where you lived, or why he chose you to save.
You knew of Gale in high school, but didn’t think anything of him. He was just another surviving teenager, trying to get through with his head down and make it out of the reaping alive. You learned more about him when he was presented as Katniss’ cousin to Panem to keep him from being seen as a threat against Peeta. As for you, Peeta was able to claim that you were nothing but a loyal friend.
You and Gale only met in passing.
Even though Gale knew what you actually meant to Peeta, he still left his family out of the hundreds that were saved. They were just across the street from Katniss’ family, and he still let them get killed. While he traveled across the district to tell you that a hovercraft was coming because the district was going to be bombed by the Capitol.
You’re grateful you’re alive, and so is your family, but you will never forgive him for doing something so cruel.
You feel the nausea rising in your stomach again, as you wipe your hands down your grey uniform to rid them of the collecting sweat. You’re sweeping your hair into one hand, really sure that you’re going to throw up this time, when the door to your dormitory opens.
You stop in your steps, turning to see who it is. You asked your parents to stay out for a little bit, because you really needed some time to think to yourself. You were almost put in the same room as Katniss and Finnick, so that you’d be able to receive the news of their arrival at the same time as them. Haymitch didn’t think it was appropriate, that’s why you were casted out, but said you’d be updated as soon as they landed.
Despite the fact that you and Peeta are very much dating, and he’s made it explicitly clear that he and Katniss are nothing but an act, you are seen as less than she is. In fact, the word they like to put on you is ‘rebound’. You’re Peeta’s rebound, because he couldn’t get Katniss.
You’ve tried to be patient with District Thirteen’s command, but they’re running it thin.
Haymitch Abernathy stands in your doorway, a grave look on his face. You don’t think he approves of you and Peeta, even though he tried his best to convince you two that he didn’t care what happened, as long as President Snow didn’t find out.
“Peeta’s here.” He says.
“Oh, finally.” You breathe, letting go of your hair as you start toward the door, “Is he in the hospital?”
“(Y/n), stop.” Haymitch blocks the path. “Peeta’s not in the right state of mind. It’s going to be upsetting to see.”
“That’s fine.” You brush him off, “Can we go?”
“You don’t understand.” He sighs, “He tried to kill Katniss.”
You stare at him for a few seconds, while your brain tries to push through this information. He was just concerned about her not too long ago, and now he’s trying to kill her?
You shake your head, “I want to see him, Haymitch.”
He doesn’t like your persistence, but he leads the way to the hospital, anyway. The two of you move through the hallway, into the elevator, out, and through another series of hallways. You can hear the commotion from down the hallway, the shouting coming from the other side of the hospital doors.
Once you walk through them, you’re met with chaos. You stop for a second at the doors, wondering if it’s like this all the time in here, but when you realize that Haymitch is still moving, you get right back to following. You catch sight of Finnick with a girl, and presumably another victor strapped down with a shaved head, rolling her eyes at the nurse.
The further back you go, the calmer it gets. You can feel the anxiety building in your stomach the moment you step foot into a tense room that holds a few vaguely familiar faces. You know Plutarch Heavensbee, he was a former Gamemaker. You’ve talked to him a few times. And then there’s Beetee Latier, one of the victors that was inside of the arena. And among them are a few other people that you don’t recognize.
No one pays attention to you, the conversation lands on Haymitch as soon as they see him. You stand there for a few minutes, nerves settling slowly while the anger begins to rise.
You take a deep breath to calm yourself. “I want to see him.”
There are a few stunned faces as eyes land on you. As if you somehow just materialized out of the air, and they didn’t see you when you walked into the room behind Haymitch.
“That might not be a good idea.” A man says, looking over you.
“You think that matters to me?” Your body’s trembling. He’s got to be on the other side of the door, the one that they’re blocking. You’re so close to him.
“Who are you?” He asks.
“If you all stopped smothering me, then you’d know that I’m his girlfriend.” You snap, “Not Katniss, me.”
Plutarch tilts his head, “Boggs has nothing to do with your current predicament, (Y/n). I’m going to give you access to see him, but you’ll return immediately if you see him getting violent, do you understand?”
You ignore his comment, deciding to keep the peace. “Yes.”
Several people move at once. While Beetee wheels himself across the room to press a button on the wall, which makes the wall to your left turn into a window, allowing you to see a preview of Peeta’s state. Boggs walks over to the door that you were looking at, pushing a key into the lock and turning it.
You don’t move from where you stand, lips parted as you let out a gasp at the sight of Peeta, strapped to a bed to keep from hurting himself and others. He’s lost all the muscle that took months for him to build up before going into the arena. He’s covered in black and blue bruises, there’s cuts across his skin.
You can feel the tears build in your eyes.
Peeta’s head lolls to the side at the sound of the key in the lock. He can’t even keep his eyes open.
“We gave him a sedative after he went after Katniss.” Haymitch explains, “He’s coming off of it.”
You start moving to the door. Boggs tries to stop you, maybe to give you some bullshit rules to follow while you’re inside, but you’ve already shoved him aside and forced yourself through the door before he can even say your name.
Peeta’s eyes widen at the noise you cause coming through the door, jerking aggressively to see exactly who it is that’s entering the room. It takes him a second of looking you over, up and down, to realize it’s you. He relaxes into the bed, no longer pulling against the restraints, face smoothing over.
“(Y/n)...” He trails.
You can feel your teeth chattering, tears overflowing your eyes, “Peeta.”
“You’re here.” He breathes, “You’re okay?”
“I’m okay.” You sob, trying to wipe the tears away. You grab his hand, squeezing tightly, feeling another round of tears hit you when he holds on, refusing to let go.
You lean over the railing, your other hand outstretched to touch his face, where the bruises lie on his sunken cheeks. The back of your fingers brush against his skin. He takes in a breath, eyes fluttering shut while he leans into your touch.
He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, until he slowly opens his eyes, “I missed you.”
“I’m never leaving you again.” You tell him, “I promise.”
#ilguna#peeta mellark#peeta mellark imagine#peeta mellark x reader#peeta mellark oneshot#peeta mellark fanfic#peeta x reader#peeta imagine#peeta fanfic#peeta oneshot#peeta mellark x you#peeta mellark x yn#peeta mellark x y/n#thg#the hunger games#fluff
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Can you do prompt 11 from aisle 1 with peeta or finnick? Like reader or whoever u choose is almost killed in the games then they get yelled at n stuff🩷🙏
☼ bloody flowers (Peeta Mellark) ☼
warnings; swearing, death, death mention, blood, ehh gore, weapon use. peeta’s mean.
wc; 2.3k
prompt; 11. yelling at them because they thought they’d lose them.
notes; no katniss, roles for mockingjay are reversed.
—
“I’m going to try to tap a tree.” You tell Peeta and Finnick, breaking the silence.
Finnick is on his feet, slowly wading further into the saltwater, carefully rubbing it on his skin to ensure he’s got all the poison out. He barely looks over his shoulder to acknowledge what you’ve said, nodding. He’s having a hard time speaking, his throat is raw from the amount of fog he breathed in.
As you get to your feet, brushing the sand from your skin, Peeta looks over at you, eyebrows drawing in. “Let me make the hole first. You stay with him, you’re better friends.”
“That’s not…” You shake your head, but he’s heading into the jungle, knife in hand.
When you turn your head to look at Finnick—afraid that he’s heard what Peeta said—you can’t find him immediately. You shuffle forward in the sand, eyes searching the water. You spot him beneath the surface, easing your anxiety.
With that, you leave him be. You trust that he won’t accidentally drown himself, since he’s the best swimmer out of your group. And he’s going to need some time alone, after losing Mags to the fog in the jungle.
It was quick, you didn’t even have time to intervene. Finnick saw that you were struggling to carry Mags down the slope, after the two of you had switched, because Peeta was entirely too heavy to be leaning on you for support. In the brief break you took to regain your strength, Mags kissed Finnick goodbye and walked straight into the fog.
What happened didn’t register until Finnick was pulling you to your feet, ordering you to grab one side of Peeta, so the two of you could work together. You don’t have to say anything to Finnick to know that he’s hurt, the look on his face alone is a dead giveaway.
You find your melted jumpsuit strewn in the sand, alongside Finnicks and Peetas. It had been ripped off of you by Peeta, who was so desperate to get you in the water, that he’d forgotten how much it’d hurt being submerged. It could’ve been worse, you weren’t covered in nearly as much of the fog as Finnick had been.
You crouch next to Peeta’s suit, flipping it over to find the mockingjay pin still holding on tightly. You unhook it from his clothes, and move to pin it to the front of your undershirt to hold onto it for him. You then reach to touch the gold necklace to make sure that it’s still hanging around your neck.
The floatation belts seem to have not been affected by the fog at all. They look brand new, actually. You pull it around your waist, buckling it back on. As much as you’d wish to leave it, you’re not the best swimmer in the alliance. Peeta and Finnick are far better, which is why they’ll feel comfortable enough to leave theirs behind.
You stand again, stretching your arms above your head, feeling the soreness throughout your body. And then, you reach to pull the hair tie out to let your hair down, which has been severely damaged by the fog. Barely touching it, clumps come out, stuck between your fingers. The sight is only slightly nauseating. You comb your hair the best you can, watching as the collection grows. When it seems to have slowed, you pull your hair back into a ponytail, and fling the dead hair into the trees.
Speaking of which, Peeta’s found a good one ten yards in from the beach. You can hardly see him through the trees, but the sound of him drilling is unmistakable. You keep an eye on him the best you can, but Finnick splashing around is distracting.
He stretches, slowly, testing his limbs to see if they’re working properly. Gradually, he begins to swim, which is mesmerizing to watch. It’s nothing like the way you were taught to. There’s a rhythm, a pace. He dives, surfaces, rolls like a log of wood in water. He sprays from his mouth, and then he’ll sit underwater for minutes at a time.
When he finally comes back up, he looks better than he did earlier. He pushes his hair out of his face, walking in your direction.
You offer him a smile, “Feeling better?”
“Considerably.” He says, eyes finding the pin on your tank top. He touches it, squinting slightly. “Left the token, huh?”
“He knew I’d grab it.” You wave him off. “Let’s go help him, he’s going to need the spile.”
Finnick leads the way into the jungle, you follow behind him, fiddling with the necklace. He holds the trident to his side, the pole bouncing off his thigh when he takes steps too hard. You briefly look away to pop the locket clasp open, suddenly afraid that the fog might’ve damaged the delicate photos inside. You slam straight into Finnick’s back, having to catch yourself on his shoulder.
A question raises on your tongue, but he presses a finger against his lips to keep you quiet. He looks upward, into the branches that belong to the trees that hang above you lowly. You follow his gaze curiously, and your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of what’s been watching you.
You press your lips together, your left hand falling from your necklace, and your right readjusting the sword in your hand. There’s a mass of orange monkeys weighing down the branches. More than just five or ten, there’s easily two dozen, sitting there, waiting for one wrong move.
This isn’t the first time you’ve seen them. There was a pair of them right after you’d escaped the fog, Peeta had pointed them out. Those ones retreated, not wanting anything to do with the three of you. These ones don’t have any intentions on leaving.
“Peeta,” Your voice wavers slightly, Finnick glances at you. You take a breath, “I need your help with something on the beach.”
“Just a minute (Y/n). I think I’ve just about got it.” He tells you, still occupied with the tree. “Have you got the spile?”
“I do, but we’ve found something you might want to see.” You murmur, noticing how the monkeys are reacting to Peeta’s movements. They don’t care if you move. “Only move toward us quietly, so you don’t startle it.”
“I don’t want to lose the tree.”
“We won’t, we’ll be right back.” You tell him, motioning for him to come toward you.
He lets out a sigh, but listens. You chew on the inside of your cheek, listening to the noise he’s making. Still, the monkeys don’t move, because that’s not what causes them to be aggressive. He’s only five yards from the beach, when his movements become stiff, eyes darting up for a second.
It’s enough. The shrieking begins, as the monkeys all begin to move at an impossible speed to jump at him. They slide down vines, leaping large distances, fangs bared, claws shooting out. One word comes to mind.
“Mutts!” You snap, shoving past Finnick to get to Peeta.
You swing the sword carelessly, hitting the vital parts of the monkeys the best you can with the amount flying out of the trees. When you make it to Peeta, the two of you switch weapons, him slapping the knife into your hand for you to take so he can begin to do real damage with the sword.
Peeta’s got a better technique, bringing down almost as much as Finnick is with the trident. He’ll spear the mutts, and then fling them aside, off into the trees. The three of you form a triangle formation, trying to kill them efficiently. Only, you can’t keep up with your knife, they’re forced to cover you.
You feel a pair of teeth sink into your thigh before Peeta’s slicing through the throat, forcing the jaws to unhinge. The air grows heavy, from the trampled plants, the scent of blood, and the musty stink of the monkey mutts that hound you.
Peeta swings at one of them, and instead of landing the hit, the monkey secures the sword, and throws it into the trees, permanently making it out of the question. Then, it grabs a tight hold of Peeta’s arm, and swings him out of the formation, in the open. Where another monkey spots this, sprinting for the kill.
You begin to run for him, throwing the knife at the mutt that’s racing you. The mutt manages to dodge the attack, and you’re about to throw yourself at Peeta to save him, when someone else beats you to it, first. A woman materializes out of a tree, screaming loudly as she throws herself into the monkey, arms wrapping around its body.
It sinks its fangs into her chest.
Finnick’s trident hits the monkey with such force that it makes a loud squelching sound when the trident collides with its body. The mutt releases its jaw, Peeta kicking the body off.
“Come on, then!” Peeta shouts. “Come on!”
The mutts don’t seem to be interested anymore, retreating into the trees the same way they had done before. You reach to grab Peeta, hands shaking, when he suddenly points toward the beach, eyes hard.
“Go.”
Your mouth pops open, eyebrows drawing in, but you don’t argue, walking the five yards out of the jungle, onto the beach. The two boys follow behind you, with Finnick carrying the woman, who you’re able to recognize as the morphling from District Six, when you get a good look at her.
Finnick lays her in the sound, and Peeta follows behind him with your knife. He kneels next to her, cutting open the wetsuit that covers her chest, revealing the four deep wounds. Her blood is slowly emerging out of them, staining her skin. You’d say she’s fine, if it weren’t for the damage the monkeys did inside of her body.
She’s gasping for air, struggling to breathe. This could mean a punctured lung, maybe even her heart. Her skin is shaded a sickly green, sagging to reveal each one of her ribs. This is caused by years of abusing the pain medication.
She takes your hand shakily, squeezing tightly to ground herself. You lean over her, moving the hair out of her face.
“I’ll watch the trees.” Finnick says before walking away.
Peeta settles in the sand, voice soft, “With my paint box at home, I can make every color imaginable. Pink. As pale as a baby’s skin. Or as deep as rhubarb. Green like spring grass. Blue that shimmers like ice on water.”
She stares at Peeta, hanging on to every word.
“One time, I spent three days mixing paint until I found the right shade for sunlight on white fur. You see, I kept thinking it was yellow, but it was much more than that. Layers of all sorts of color. One by one.”
Her breathing is growing shallow, calming, dying. Her free hand dips into the wound on her chest, touching the blood as she swirls it on her skin, the same way she had in the Training Center.
“I haven’t figured out a rainbow yet. They come so quickly and leave so soon. I never have enough time to capture them. Just a bit of blue here or purple there. And then they fade away again. Back into the air.”
She lifts up the bloodied hand, painting a flower on Peeta’s cheek.
“Thank you,” He whispers. “That looks beautiful.”
Her face lights up, as she makes a small squeaking sound. And then her hand falls back onto her chest, giving out her last huff of air. The cannon fires. Her hand loosens in yours.
You sit there in the sand, watching as Peeta carries her into the water, carefully settling her on her back. She floats toward the Cornucopia, and when the Gamemakers are sure she’s a good distance away, the hovercraft appears to take her away. The claw drops, carrying her into the night sky, and she’s gone.
You get to your feet when Peeta comes back your way, but with the look on his face, you’re not exactly eager to touch him.
“What were you thinking?” He asks you. “Running at me like that. Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
Your mouth opens as you shake your head. “I—the mutt was coming right for you, I thought—”
“You thought what, (Y/n)? You were going to kill it with this?” He asks, holding your knife out for you to see. It’s stained red, sand sticking to the blood that refuses to dry. “Oh no, that’s right, you threw it at the mutt.”
You stare at him. “I’m sorry, okay?”
“No, not okay!” he shouts. “Were you even thinking?”
“I just—”
“I don’t need you trying to be the hero.” He tells you. “I had it handled.”
“I’m sorry, Peeta.”
“Don’t do it again.” He says, shaking his head. “It’s hard enough keeping you safe when you’re not running into danger. So don’t start doing it on purpose.”
“I won’t.”
He looks over your face, judging whether or not you’re being truthful, when his eyes dip toward your chest. His face smooths, holding his hand out, palm up. “Give me the pin.”
Wordlessly, you unhook it from the cloth and place it in his hand. “I didn’t want to lose it.”
“That’s fine.” He says, closing the distance between the two of you. He directs your chin up carefully, raising his eyebrows. “You know I love you.”
“I know.” You whisper. “I’ll be more careful.”
He presses a kiss to the middle of your forehead. “That’s all I ask.”
—
this is part of my 3k celebration!! you can join until the cure is released on October 31st, at midnight!! everyone is welcome to join :)
#ilguna#peeta mellark#peeta mellark imagine#peeta mellark fanfic#peeta mellark x reader#peeta mellark oneshot#peeta mellark x you#peeta mellark x yn#peeta mellark x y/n#peeta imagine#peeta oneshot#peeta fanfic#peeta x reader#peeta x you#peeta x y/n#peeta x yn#thg#the hunger games#anon#ask#3k celebration#requested#angst
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Piano Sessions: "White Leather" by Wolf Alice + Finnick Odair x reader, their relationship had just started when Quarter Quell happened and both sent to arena, when the rebels pull victors out she gets left behind but her tracker was taken out and the gamemakers can't find her in arena. so everyone assumes she's dead but she escapes. while she's on the run she thinks about the life she wants with Finnick (maybe she sees the propo he does and he says something about her death). as "star squad" makes their way through the capitol they are reunited.
☼ white leather (Finnick Odair) ☼
warnings; swearing, death mention, reader has an injury.
wc; 5.7k
prompt; Piano Sessions: songfic, white leather by wolf alice. not noticable.
--
The seasons are changing, the warmth is fleeting, and the loneliness is burrowing in your heart. While you were being roasted alive a few weeks ago due to the unrelenting heat, mother nature has since decided to be kind rather than cruel. With summer ending, it allows her to relax, iron fist loosening.
It’s perfect timing, too.
If you had to endure it for any longer, you think you would’ve stopped traveling, ultimately setting you back. It was different when you were in the arena, because you weren’t actively moving for the entire day, just in increments. Out here you have no choice, especially if you want to make it back.
The Capitol can’t be that much further. After walking in the trees of Panem for hours at a time for weeks, it has got to be around here somewhere. You know for certain that you’re heading in the right direction because you stumbled into District Nine by accident.
You didn’t even realize you had, even though you crossed through a fence to get inside. In your defense, there’s a lot of sectioned off areas inside of the wilderness, with no apparent reason why. What should’ve given you a clue was the burnt wheat field, stretching as far as your eyes could see.
In the distance, you could make out buildings, something that also wasn’t too unusual, considering that when the districts were formed after the Dark Days, a lot of structures were abandoned. You’ve been hopping between them, actually. It’s dangerous, they’re falling apart, and there’s critters absolutely everywhere, but you don’t have much of an option.
You’ve tried sleeping under the stars, it’s not at all comfortable. You get increasingly paranoid as the hours drag on, afraid of the wild animals coming across you. You’d be able to defend yourself, with the knife that you have from the Quarter Quell arena. In the case of a pack, you’d be screwed.
They’d tear you apart, and then you’d have to add on their damage to injuries you already have. The last thing you need right now is another infected wound. The one on your forearm is bad enough. It’s your own fault, you dug out the tracker prematurely, assuming that you’d be rescued out of the arena, because that was the plan.
When Katniss short circuited the dome using the lightning, she unintentionally messed up the plan, putting the rebels on a time crunch. They were able to get her, Finnick and Beetee out of the arena, you believe. Which left you, Johanna and Peeta behind. And Enobaria, but she doesn’t really count.
You ran across your allies, tried to tell them that if they didn’t want to fall into Capitol hands, then they had to escape that minute. Johanna, who usually trusts your judgement, was resistant to the idea of escaping the dome. She didn’t like the idea of having to survive outside of it, not knowing where to go. She wanted to play it safe, and if that meant enduring whatever the Capitol had in store, then that’s what had to be done.
You would’ve argued with her, possibly even convinced her, if the hovercraft hadn’t appeared above the three of you. They knew exactly where they were because of the trackers they still had. With you being set on not being captured, you ran, leaving them behind, while you got out of the dome.
They should’ve caught you. It was an open field for at least a mile, they easily could’ve seen you, shot you and scooped you up. You don’t think you’ve ever run so fast in your life. Johanna and Peeta must’ve put up a fight, if it took them that long to grab them out.
You didn’t hear news for a long time, not until that farmer caught up with you in that wheat field. She was out of breath, face a bright red from running for so long, sweat running down from her temples. You paused, watching in slight amusement as she tried to catch her breath, clearly wanting a conversation.
“You… what are you… doing out here?” She gasped, a hand on her chest. “If the Peacekeepers catch you…”
At the mention of Peacekeepers, you were no longer smiling. “Where am I?”
Her face twisted. “Well, District Nine, of course.”
The burnt field clicked then, and you turned to look at it with new eyes. It also explained why the fence you climbed over was harder than the last few. Which then got your mind working, wondering if you’d been in District Nine the week before, because it was heavily barbed.
“My name is (Y/n).” You said, head shaking. “I don’t live here, I’m a victor from District Four.”
She squinted at you, unbelieving. She eyed your body, the clothes you were wearing, which is nothing but an undershirt, a pair of shorts and water boots. Not the typical clothing for a farmer out in the fields, you guessed. You came to the right conclusion, because her mouth opened.
“You’re supposed to be dead.” She told you. “How did you get out of the arena?”
“It fell apart. I simply climbed out.”
She made a noise, as if the answer was too easy. “Where are you heading? District Four?”
“No, the Capitol. How far away am I?”
“Close, but you’re going in the wrong direction. You need to get to District Two, they cracked the Nut.” She pointed over your shoulder. “If you get to the rebel base, they’ll help you there.”
You nodded slowly. “They still have Peacekeepers here?”
“We’re too close, that’s why they haven’t retreated. They’ve up and abandoned the further districts. They wiped out District Twelve completely.”
You tilted your head. “Everyone’s dead?”
“They bombed it, seen it in the propos with Katniss Everdeen. Some of her people made it out, they’re in District Thirteen now. Not much left of ‘em.”
“Right.” You murmured. “Thank you for the help.”
“Wait, don’t you want me to look at that for you?” She motioned to where you’d cut out the tracker. “It looks nasty.”
“I don’t have time.”
“Well, good luck.” She said, “You better hurry and get out of here.”
“I will.”
She nodded, watching as you turned away, heading for District Two. From what you’ve gathered, you’re confident enough to say that the Quarter Quell arena was placed in the space between Districts Eight, Nine and Two. When you picture the map of Panem in your mind, it’s the area that makes the most sense.
A part of you wishes that you’d taken up her offer on cleaning out the cut. You have some herbal knowledge, which is what’s keeping it from killing you, but that has nothing on real medicine. This could’ve been healed days ago, and it likely wouldn’t have left a scar.
There’s also so many questions that come to mind since talking to her. Parts of the conversation that didn’t make sense to you. The biggest one being her telling you that you should be dead. Why? At the very least, the Capitol should know that you made it out alive. Especially if they did a sweep of the arena and didn’t come out with your body.
Unless they figured that you escaped and you’ve died out here somewhere, starving and alone. Which is the dumbest conclusion that they could possibly come to. With your track history, the bare minimum that you’ve lived off of your entire life, including your Games, they should know you’re a parasite that you can’t get rid of so easily.
If there’s one good thing that’s come out of fighting in the Hunger Games, it’s that you know how to survive. It would’ve been harder to do if you were rusty, but your time in the arena was a refresher, setting you up to live out here, which is not nearly as difficult. You don’t actively have other tributes hunting you down every waking second.
If the Capitol really thinks that you’ve died, they have a surprise coming.
Your feet stutter a step when you realize what that means. It’s not just the Capitol, District Nine believes it too. There’s a good chance that they’re advertising it to the rest of the districts, then. You wouldn’t put it past them, they rub factors in your faces all the time, like District Thirteen. They led you to think that it’d been destroyed decades ago, when in reality, they came to an agreement that allowed Thirteen to slip out without the others noticing.
Oh, you hope that Finnick isn’t believing the same thing that girl did. You really hope that he wouldn’t take their word for it. But why wouldn’t he? District Thirteen didn’t have enough resources to rescue you all, and the Capitol was right there. Who’s to say that you didn’t die before they could get you out? Or that they didn’t kill you in captivity? Or that they’re secretly hiding you.
They could say anything they wanted about you, and he’d have no choice but to believe it because there’s no evidence proving otherwise.
You’ve been thinking about Finnick a lot lately out here while you walk, mostly your future. It was discussed briefly before the Quarter Quell, because the two of you had come to the agreement of volunteering for the Games. The conversation didn’t get very far after you started talking about the hypothetical rebellion if the arena did work out.
If you had it your way, you think you would’ve talked to him about what he wants to do after the rebellion, because you have so many ideas. Primarily, you’ll be able to travel, you won’t be held down by District Four. You and Finnick could spend months bouncing between districts, and come back home when you get tired of it.
For the first time in your lives, you’ll have freedom. You’ll be able to do anything you want with little to no limit. There will be no more Hunger Games, no more months of preparation with teenagers that have no choice. There won’t be any interruptions, something that held the two of you back for so long.
And you’re not talking about the Games being a burden, you mean the relationship you’ve been denying. You and Finnick have had unavoidable chemistry for years, but between district life and the Capitol, there was no room to explore until recently. And even that seems to have been a mistake, something that should’ve waited.
Except, neither of you could suppress the urges any longer. You were already sharing longing looks and gentle touches, there was no point in withholding the pleasures when you were already dipping into it. That’s why you made it official in April, four months after the announcement, three months before the reaping.
There had been countless nights where you stayed up, dreaming of the day where you’d be able to be yourselves. Where the stars would align perfectly to allow you to become more than just friends. When it finally happened, you almost didn’t believe the words coming out of Finnick’s mouth.
It’s been difficult to take it slow with him, because you feel like you’ve been dating him this entire time, under the table. You might not have been physical with him, but the emotional aspect was there. In your mind, he was already yours. And he admitted to you that he felt the same, that you belonged to him years ago.
You remember shivering when he told you that, because you had a feeling that it was true. These were words that you thought you’d have to wait to hear come out of his mouth. He was eager to tell you these truths, like a weight being lifted off of his chest. Like he’d been planning the exact moment they’d slip out of his lips in a whisper.
When this is over—when the rebellion is done—you want Finnick to yourself. It’s what you deserve at the very least, after all that you’ve been through. If it’s up to you, you’d want him to propose once Panem has begun to relax. You don’t want the teasing, or more years of build up. You just want to make him officially yours, forever.
Whatever comes after doesn’t matter. As long as you can say that he’s your husband, and you’ve agreed to love each other eternally. You’ll take what’s thrown your way with grace. You won’t ask for anything ever again. You’ll be especially good, if you could get what you wanted for once.
You step through the treeline into a meadow, letting you get a clear view of what’s ahead. You take a few steps before you come to a stop, staring at the colorful buildings in the distance. While you had tried your best to stay on track for District Two, you eventually came to the conclusion that you’d rather go to the Capitol, like you’d originally planned.
It’s not that far now. If you keep going, you think you’ll make it there sometime tomorrow.
—
Four hours. That’s all the time it took for you to realize that the situation has majorly changed here. The further you travel into the Capitol, the more it grows increasingly obvious. Especially if they’ve turned to violence to keep people out.
It’s a ghost town, which is not what you expected. The streets are usually crowded, with no space on the pastel sidewalk, crawling with people dressed in bright color. You were sure that you’d get spotted in the first minute of stepping foot into the city. It turns out that you had nothing to worry about.
Well, that’s not necessarily true. While you were temporarily relieved to find out that the outer half of the Capitol had been evacuated, you were put back on alert when you figured out why. There are traps placed on almost every street, with exponential damage to the buildings around.
You’ve yet to figure out if it’s the Capitol trying to defend themselves, or the rebels ensuring that if citizens return, they’ll be met with resistance. If you had to guess, you’re leaning more toward the Capitol. The way the traps are placed are methodological—it’s a pattern you’ve seen before. It reminds you a lot of the Gamemakers.
The traps are nearly perfectly hidden, the triggers in plain sight. You fell victim to the first few, but once you started to really notice where they were and what they’d contain, it was so much easier to avoid them. Once in a while, you’ll find yourself trapped, where you have no choice but to set them off. In those cases, you duck and cover, hoping for the best.
With the sun setting, you think it’s about time you call it a night. The last thing you’d want is to miss a sign and get yourself seriously injured. Everything is easier in the daylight. Besides, you covered a lot of ground today, more than you thought you would.
You stop in front of a lime green apartment building with front doors that are made out of frosted glass. You grab the handle, pulling it open to slip inside. The lobby is cool, reflecting the temperature on the outside. It’s very carefully decorated here, with tall green plants in white pots and a small loveseat with a side table. On top of it is a magazine, with Katniss and Peeta on the front cover.
You wander forward, looking at the directory to find a paper taped to the front of it, the words successfully evacuated printed across the middle in bold writing. You lift it up to see beneath it, curious to how many floors there are. There’s five of them, you’ll probably stay on the third floor to keep from going too high.
As you start up the steps, you keep a sharp ear and eye out for noises or cameras that might capture your appearance. Just because this part of the Capitol has been evacuated, doesn’t mean that they’ve surrendered control entirely. For all you know, there’s Peacekeeper bases around here, ready for the signal to round a rebel up.
When you reach the third floor, you choose the unit that’s located next to the fire escape that you step out of. The door is locked, of course. You hold out your knife, staring down at it. It’s dulled considerably because you’ve been using it for everything while you’ve been traveling. This will be its last job.
You stuff the blade into the keyhole, wiggling it from side to side. For a second, nothing happens, and then there’s a click. You twist the knob, pushing in, opening the door to reveal the expensive living room. You pull the knife out but leave the door open as you inspect the apartment from top to bottom. When you’re convinced there’s no one, you pick up a dining room chair, going back to the front door. You shut it, lock it as best as you can, and then shove the chair as stiffly as you can beneath the knob.
The first thing you do is raid the bedroom, tearing it apart for clothes that you’ll be able to wear without looking ridiculous. Once you have an outfit that makes sense, you shower, watching as all the built-up dirt and dried blood mixes in the water, creating a grainy substance at the bottom of the white shower.
You feel so much better when you step out, drying yourself off. You change, letting the bathroom air out while you go through every cabinet you can, searching for the medical supplies. They’re hidden when you do find them, but they’re top-grade, the type of medicine that you’d send to tributes in the arena to get them healed within days.
You read over the ointment’s directions, and then you slather it over the open wound in your arm. Your teeth are grit hard enough that you think you’ll break them, toes curling at the pain it’s causing. It burns as it works its magic, you toss the tube on the counter, leaving to go back to the living room.
The sun has fully set now, there’s barely any light coming through the windows. Still, you shut the curtains, blocking out the rest of it. You head to the kitchen next, digging through the pantry to find countless cans and boxed goods. You pull out a few familiar soups because you’re starving. After you’ve finally located a spoon, you go to sit on the living room floor in the dark to eat.
You could heat it up, you’re sure that it’d be better that way, but you don’t want to risk more than you have to. You open the can, dipping your spoon inside, and raising the creamy substance to your lips. As expected, it’s not very good when it’s cold. Yet, it could be worse.
You manage to get down half the can before an alarm cuts through the stillness, making you jump in surprise. Your hand wraps around the knife before the television set lights up on its own, and you’re immediately greeted with the face of Beetee Latier.
“This is a repeated broadcast from District Thirteen, a reminder of the faces we’ve lost to get here.” He says. “We Remember, do you?”
It cuts to Haymitch Abernathy, sitting in a dark room, wearing a grey jumpsuit. The background is an empty area. To an extent, he looks better than the last time you saw him.
A feminine voice speaks from off-camera. “What do you remember about Cashmere and Gloss Ritchson, the brother and sister duo from District One?”
“They were a bright pair of mentors, even when they were teenagers.” Haymitch says, staring at the camera. “There was nothing the two of them couldn’t do, and it showed time and time again when they performed miracles outside of the arena. Cashmere had an undeniable dedication that was admired by everyone, and Gloss was very hardworking to ensure his tributes got the best possible. It’s a great loss we’ve suffered losing them to the Quarter Quell.”
You squint, eyebrows twitching. Is this a memorial piece? If so, it’s a little funny for someone like Haymitch to speak about Cashmere and Gloss, considering that they were never invited into the alliance. Or thought about twice, beyond the idea of them possibly killing Katniss or Peeta.
The screen fades to black slowly, before Haymitch comes up again. “Brutus, he won a couple years after I did. He was friendly to me after my Games, and had briefly tried to help me after the tragic loss of my family.” He pauses to sigh. “Even though we could never see eye to eye, that did not keep him from drinking with me on occasion.”
Beetee shows up in the next clip, in the same spot that Haymitch was on a stool, only he’s in a wheelchair. Something must’ve happened between the arena and now. You wonder if it has anything to do with the lightning tree.
“Wiress was very intuitive, incredibly intelligent.” He adjusts his glasses, shaking his head. “It may appear that we have lost no one at all, but with her absence, Panem will not function the same. She worked alongside me to create some of the more important Capitol devices, a factor they neglected to think about. We will miss her dearly.”
You finish the can of soup, and you’re pulling on the tab to open the next when his face shows up on screen. Finnick sits on the stool, eyes puffy and a little bloodshot, bags underneath from the lack of sleep. There’s a slouch in his posture, a small length of rope in his fingers that he fiddles with.
“Tell us about (Y/n) (L/n).” The female voice says.
Finnick swallows, voice quiet. “What isn’t there to say?” He asks, looking into the camera. “She was my best friend, and more than that, my girlfriend. She was the kindest person I’ve ever known, always so considerate and patient with everyone around her. How President Snow can take such a gentle life and then brag about it is a mystery.”
Your blood runs cold, suspicions confirmed. So, they have been broadcasting you as dead. They saw an opportunity and took it, wanting to make themselves look more ruthless. When in reality, they haven’t so much as touched you since you escaped.
“I love her and I miss her.” He says, tired eyes filling with tears. An overwhelming urge to reach through the screen to hold him seizes you. “If I had known my time with her would be cut short, I would’ve done everything to protect her.” He breathes shakily. “This is why we must stop the Hunger Games. For loved ones like (Y/n).”
Finnick is gone, once again replaced by Haymitch, who begins to speak about Mags, your mentor. For the first few seconds you stare at the screen, face slowly twisting before it hits you.
Mags is dead.
“What?” You murmur, sitting up.
“Mags was the first mentor to approach me after I won my Games.” Haymitch says. “She was a sweet woman that could see the pain and understood what I was going through. I was the first victor of District Twelve, she was the first face of the Hunger Games. And for as long as I let her, she helped me mentor.”
Of course she did. That’s who Mags is—was. If she saw someone that needed help, she was there. She even approached Johanna after her Games to give her some tips because Johanna was slowly sinking.
“Mags did not deserve to die the way she did.” Haymitch says.
It moves on to the next victor, the woman from Five who was killed in the arena. You try to listen, but it’s difficult. You can feel yourself slowly getting sucked out of your body and into the open air. You’re here, but are you really?
The entirety of Panem thinks you’re dead, and as serious as the situation is—it’s a little funny. If this is the rerun, that means that they’ve been Finnick speak on your death dozens of times. There is not one person left in this country that believes otherwise.
But you’re not dead. You’re here, in one of the many luxurious Capitol apartments, eating someone else’s vegetable soup that they’ve saved. If you had gone to District Two like the girl from Nine told you to, this wouldn’t be the rumor.
For the remaining eight districts, the statements are brought from the victors that now reside in District Thirteen or some faces of previous Capitol citizens. Which you can tell by the way their skin is tinted or the tattoos that line their bodies. There’s even a part where a former Avox sits on the stool, signing while his brother translates.
It wraps up with Finnick talking about Rue and the future that was stolen from her. She was just an innocent child, and the Capitol thought it was right to force her to fight for her life with other older kids, who were much bigger and more skilled. When she should’ve been at home, with her family.
Beetee shows up at the end, hands in his lap. “We Remember.”
The screen dies, but not completely. It glows faintly, illuminating the small area that you’re sitting in. You need to get out of here—out of the Capitol, at least. You should be with Finnick. He needs to know that you’re alive, because the idea of you being dead is killing him. After the two of you fought to be together, you’ve been ripped from his fingertips.
You don’t sleep tonight.
You want to, with the couch being the comfiest thing you’ve laid down on in months. You know that the apartment is secured, you triple-checked everything. No one is coming to get you. This isn’t what keeps you up.
So, you relax in front of the television in the living room, eyelids feeling heavy the moment your head touches the pillow. When they shut, that’s when the problem rises. You’re not tired anymore, even after counting sheep for what feels like hours, your mind is still running.
By the time the sun is peeking through the curtains, you’re ready to leave the apartment with a packed bag. It has the essentials inside like food and water, and the ointment you’ll be using to heal your arm. You’ve grown too attached to the knife you had in the arena, so you find a way to sharpen it, giving you a reason to keep it.
The streets look the same way as they did yesterday, nothing has magically shifted. You head for the train tracks that’ll bring you to a tunnel that runs to District Two. It’s what the girl in Nine called the Nut. It serves several purposes, including training the new Peacekeepers underground, but it’s also the easiest path to get in and out of the Capitol.
While you should’ve gone to District Two straight away, you’re glad you didn’t. If you had, you wouldn’t have known the whole story. You can’t imagine how overwhelming it could’ve been if you came across the rebels and they bombarded you about how you’re alive.
You travel blindly through the streets, dodging and setting off traps, watching the chaos that follows. A few of them are made up of weapons that shoot out once triggered. You manage to react quickly most of the time, but you still come out with a few nicks from blades that are impossibly sharp.
Other traps are made up of insects that are abnormally colored and move in ways that they shouldn’t be capable of. When you see this, you decide that you’re right to say that they’re designed by the Capitol’s Gamemakers, because it makes no logical sense the other way around.
When it appears to be around lunch, you stop to eat in a shop with broken windows, stomach growling. There’s a nice aqua blue couch a few feet away from the door, void of the glass shards that litter the tile floor. You open a can of soup, and dig out a small pack of crackers to have with it.
It’s still disgustingly cold, and yet it could be worse. After what you ate in the woods these last few weeks, anything is a good meal compared to that. Even the crackers seem like a treat.
You set the empty can on the floor when you finish, sitting back against the cushions, staring through the open window. A pair of black birds circle over a nearby alley for a minute. They’re the first sign of life that you’ve seen in this city since you got here, besides the mutts that come out of the traps.
They settle on the roof of a building, side by side, much like the birds at home when they land on power lines. You’re about to look away, when you watch as they both simultaneously tilt their heads, attention set on whatever is in the alley. Your face twists, confused.
As soon as they open their beaks, beginning to screech, you realize that they’re not birds, either. They look to be like jabberjays—a Capitol weapon. You get to your feet, swinging the bag strap over your shoulder. You don’t know how they can see you, because they are definitely not facing your direction. You shouldn’t be in their view.
You take a single step, before you freeze where you are, watching as a group of people dart out from the alleyway. They’re dressed in black, wearing combat gear and carrying weapons. You’re terrified, wondering how the Peacekeepers have found you, until you realize that they are not Peacekeepers. Peacekeepers wear white.
There’s almost a dozen of them, and their leader is pointing his finger down the street to your right, an area you haven’t explored yet. He barks out an order, one of the girls in the middle turns with a gun, shooting at the jabberjay. They flap their wings, rising from where they’re perched, flying around.
Rebels.
Your lips part, wanting to speak, but the words die in your throat. You’re not dressed like they are, you look like you belong in the Capitol because of the clothes you’re wearing. You’re even sitting in an abandoned boutique as if you’re not completely surrounded by danger.
It doesn’t matter, they’re gone before you can work up the courage to speak. You watch as one of the boys toward the end grabs another boy with blonde hair, pulling him along. Neither of them stick out in your mind, and then the first boy turns, looking over his shoulder, right at you.
It’s Finnick. It’s Finnick, and he’s pulling along Peeta.
You move now, trying to follow him. You’re sure he’s seen you, but as you step out of the shop and in front of it, looking at where you’d been standing, you see that it’s too dark to make out much of anything. The awning above the street blocks any sunlight that might be able to get inside.
“Hey,” You call, walking after them. They’re moving too fast, trying to escape the birds, running around the corner. You begin to jog, not wanting to lose them in the maze of Capitol streets.
Even as a team, they move remarkably fast. You’re barely catching Finnick’s bronze hair in glimpses each time they take a turn. They’re losing the birds, though. And even worse, you.
“Hey!” You shout, sprinting down the street. “Wait!”
It grows more narrow, crowded with decorations that citizens couldn’t pull inside before leaving. There’s many places to hide, too many buildings to duck into. You can’t see Finnick anymore, much less hear the stomping of their boots against the asphalt.
When you’re breathing so hard that you’re sure you’re going to throw up your lunch, you slow down, coming to a stop in the middle of the walkway. Your face contorts, hands on your hand.
“Fuck.” You breathe, walking at a slow pace. “Finnick!”
You peer into the local stores, checking behind every bush. You know that eight people would never be able to hide around this area without splitting up. They could’ve gone anywhere.
“Finnick, please!” You stop in the middle of a crossroads, taking your time to look down what each road offers. “It’s me, it’s (Y/n)! I’m alive!” You struggle to breathe normally, whispering, “Please, I’m alive.”
When there’s no appearance, you sigh. The one chance you had, and now he’s gone.
“(Y/n)?” A faraway voice asks.
You turn instantly to face the person, finding Finnick standing at the end of a walkway. He’s not alone. In fact, he’s with the leader of the group, who’s clutching a large gun in his hands, wary. This doesn’t bother you.
“Finnick.” You say, starting toward him. “Oh my god.”
There’s a deep crease between his eyebrows, watching you come closer. “You’re—how are you here?”
You walk straight into his arms, letting him crush you against his body. You grip on tightly to his shoulder, face pressed into the space above the vest. He presses a kiss into your hair once, then twice, and again and again. When he’s had enough, he pulls away, grabbing your face to kiss your lips.
It’s gentle, loving, but quickly turns greedy as he refuses to let you go. And when he does, it’s not because he needs to breathe, it’s because his shoulders are shaking. His face is wet, eyes filled with tears. You bring his forehead to yours, thumbs wiping away the tears.
“It’s okay, Finnick.” You murmur.
“The Capitol said you were dead. They showed your body. How are you—?”
“I escaped out of the arena.” You tell him, stroking his hair. “I’ve been in the trees between the districts the whole time. I got here yesterday.”
He backs away, lips pressed together, tears still sliding down his cheeks. “Of course you did.
You pout, shaking your head. “I cut the tracker out.” You show him your arm, which is looking better this afternoon, but still far from healed. “I’m not sure who’s body you saw, but it wasn’t mine.” You reach for his hands. “I am so, so sorry.”
He pulls you back into his body, hugging you. “You’re alive, (Y/n). That’s all that matters to me.” He frowns. “I’m not leaving you again.”
“I’m going to hold you to that.”
-
this was part of my 3k celebration!!
#ilguna#finnick odair#finnick odair imagine#finnick odair oneshot#finnick odair fanfic#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair x you#finnick odair x yn#finnick odair x y/n#finnick imagine#finnick fanfic#finnick oneshot#finnick x reader#finnick x you#finnick x yn#finnick x y/n#thg#the hunger games#angst#anon#ask#3k celebration#requested
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hii could you please write a young coriolanus x reader arranged marriage trope thank you
☼ plinth legacy (Coriolanus Snow) ☼
warnings; swearing, death mention, blood mention, some grief.
wc; 7.7k
notes; made the reader sejanus's sister for angst reasons :)
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Coriolanus Snow.
A name, much less a person, you had never thought would constantly be on your mind. He wasn’t before. In fact, most days you wouldn’t glance his way twice, unless you had to. He was just another face at the Academy, a friend of your brother, Sejanus. Which, by association, made him a friend of yours. Or, at the very least, acquaintances.
It wasn’t that you didn’t like him, or that he was unbearable to have a conversation with. Actually, his presence was nice, on the occasions that you were around him for longer than a few minutes at a time. He was polite, and always seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say, even if he’d heard it all before from Sejanus.
You started to see more of Coriolanus when they became mentors for the tributes in the districts. You weren’t eligible to participate, and it wasn’t due to grades, but because you’re a year younger than your brother. This didn’t stop him from pulling you to see the tributes in the zoo when the opportunity first struck.
Ma had warned you two to be careful, after what she had seen happen with Coriolanus getting stuck inside. Still, she happily made the sandwiches when Sejanus requested it, and even made extra after he told her what his plan was. He wanted to give them to the tributes inside of the cage, he had a feeling they were hungry, and he was right.
Sejanus couldn’t get them to approach the bars, no matter what he said, or how hard he tried. A few times, you’d tried yourself, attention focused on one person in particular, who was on the far side of the cage, refusing to look your guys’ way.
Your fingers curled around the cold steel, leaning into it. “Marcus.” You breathed, a smile on your face. “Please, we want to help.” His eyes found you, standing above where Sejanus was crouched. “It’s just a sandwich.”
He didn’t budge, of course. Sejanus took a glance behind the two of you, getting to his feet. The sandwich lowering in one hand, as he waved someone over with the other. When you looked, you found Coriolanus coming through the crowd, blonde curls bouncing with each step.
When he caught your eye, he gave you a smile. “Trouble?”
“None of them trust us. And why should they?” Sejanus asked.
“Us?” Coriolanus echoed.
“I’ve been trying, too. But not as broadly.” You shook your head.
A girl had marched up next to the three of you to point to a sign on a pillar next to the enclosure. “It says, ‘Please don’t feed the animals.’”
“They’re not animals, though,” Sejanus told her. “They’re kids, like you and me.”
“They’re not like me! They’re district. That’s why they belong in a cage!” She shouted.
Sejanus sighed. “Once again, like me.” He then looked at Coriolanus. “Coriolanus, do you think you could get your tribute to come over? If she does, the others might. They have to be starving.”
He hesitated, looking through the bars to find his tribute. He took a moment to think, debate whether or not he should. All he needed was a little push to convince him, so you leaned forward, over Sejanus, to place a hand on his arm.
“Please?” The word was sweet, more than you had intended it to be. His eyes moved to you, instead. “Do you have any ideas?”
He took in a breath, “I can’t just treat her like it’s feeding time at the zoo,” He was shaking his head. “Not mine. But I could offer her dinner. Maybe they’ll join after that.”
Sejanus nodded, you removed your hand, giving him a smile. Your brother opened up the backpack for Coriolanus to see the amount of sandwiches and fresh plums that were inside, waiting. “Take whatever. Ma made extra. Please.”
Coriolanus took two sandwiches and two plums, and then moved away to a more private spot, where he sat down on a flat rock. His tribute went up to him to join, and they spoke briefly. She took a bite out of one of the sandwiches, a smile appearing on her face.
The other tributes had moved forward, seemingly gauging her reaction to make sure that it was good. When she swallowed her bite, she turned her head to them. “You all should get one. They’re real good!” She waved her district friend forward. “Go on, Jessup!”
Jessup took his time approaching the fence, black hair sticking to his forehead from the heat. Sejanus wordlessly handed him a sandwich, and a healthy plum. As soon as Jessup had returned to where he’d been before, the other tributes rushed forward.
You stole a sandwich and a plum, holding them to your chest, eyes on Marcus, as he refused to come forward. A dozen hands stuck themselves through the bars, and your brother struggled to fill them quickly. Within the minute, the food was gone, everyone had gotten one.
Except for Marcus.
He had his arms crossed over his chest, face hard. Sejanus pulled a sandwich out of the very bottom of the bag, unaware that the food you were holding was for Marcus, and not for yourself.
“Marcus, this is for you. Take it. Please.” Sejanus said, leaning out as far as he could. “Please, Marcus.” He pleaded. “You must be starving.”
You watched with a sinking heart as Marcus looked Sejanus up and down, and then turned his back to the both of you. One of the other, smaller, boy tributes took the opportunity and ran forward to claim the sandwich, snatching it from Sejanus’s hand.
The news crew showed up after that, pushing a camera into his face. Your brother wasn’t having it, slinging the empty backpack over his shoulder. He held his elbow out for you, so he could escort you through the crowd better.
“I’m going to talk to Marcus.” You told him. “I don’t want him to go hungry.”
“Ma will be upset that I left you here.” Sejanus said, “She told me to watch you.”
“You wouldn’t be leaving me. I have Coryo.” You motioned to Coriolanus, who was in his own world with his tribute. You cleared your throat, getting his attention. “Sejanus is going to leave, you wouldn’t mind keeping an eye on me, would you?”
Coriolanus nodded, smiling, “Of course not, why’d you even ask?”
Sejanus was satisfied, lowering his elbow. “I’ll see you at home.”
“Tell Ma I won’t be too late.” You said, watching him weave through the crowd to leave.
And then you turned back to the cage, eyes on Marcus in the corner. He was stiff, unmoving in the corner for another few long minutes. Which was probably done to ensure that you two had left.
When he decided that enough time had passed, he took his time turning around. The first place he looked was in your direction to confirm the coast was clear.
You were certain he was going to shut you out at the sight of you, but he didn’t. He stayed where he was, and so did you. You waited for him to relax, even if it was a little bit, before you bothered to hold up the sandwich and the plum you’d been holding to your chest. The food that you’d been protecting for him.
His face twisted, you stared, drawing in a breath. “Ma made it. I don’t want you to go hungry, Marcus.”
Marcus deliberated, eyes wandering from yours, and then he’d pushed himself off of the wall. You crouched, so that he wouldn’t have to come up the dry moat if he didn’t want to. He took his time, drawing attention to himself.
If he had any respect from the other tributes for abstaining, it had crumbled like his resolve.
Marcus stopped at the bottom of the moat, you held out the sandwich and the plum for him. “We’re so sorry you’re here, Marcus. We never could’ve imagined it’d come to this.” He didn’t move, watching you.
And then all of a sudden he did.
His hands closed around your wrists, yanking you forward. You barely turned your head in time to keep your nose from slamming into the bars, eyes wide, trying to pull back. He had a tight grip on you, squeezing hard enough for you to feel the blood beginning to build in your fingers.
“You aren’t.” He said, voice hard.
“Marcus…” You wiggled, “Marcus, you’re hurting me.”
He tried to pull you in closer, forcing you to press into the bars of the enclosure. “This is what you get, (Y/n). This is what happens when you treat people like animals.”
“But this isn’t my fault!” You shouted, panic settling in. “Let go of me!”
“You’re the one that moved to the Capitol. You didn’t stay in District Two. You’re just as bad as they are.”
“Let go!” You cried, tears in your eyes.
“Get off of her.” A hard voice demanded, a hand shot in front of you to make a grab at Marcus.
Coriolanus was angry, an emotion that you hadn’t seen him wear before. He was always so cool and collected, there wasn’t a lot that could get him riled up. If it did, he would excuse himself, to keep from tarnishing his perfect reputation.
A stern crease was between his eyebrows as he got his hand around one of Marcus’s forearms, bringing him forward with one solid pull.
“I said, get off of her.” His voice was low.
“Or what?” Marcus asked.
“Or I’ll make you wish you never met her.”
Marcus listened, never taking his eyes off of Coriolanus, as if he could jump through the narrow bars to strangle him. His hands released, and you let go of the sandwich and the plum in the process. You caught yourself on the bars before you could fall completely, standing up swiftly, brushing dust off your skirt.
Coriolanus reached for you, and you held onto the red sleeve of his Academy uniform, breathing heavily. You shook your head at Marcus, heart beating in your chest. “Just because we’re here now, doesn’t mean we’ve changed, unlike you.”
The evening was ruined, but the zoo was closing anyway. Coriolanus let you hang onto his elbow, as he began to lead you out while blocking the cameras from bombarding you. You didn’t make it very far before you saw Sejanus, sitting behind a boulder. And even though you could’ve let go of Coriolanus, you didn’t.
You were upset, for multiple reasons. Your intentions were completely different from what Marcus assumed. You weren’t there to save face with District Two, you were there to help him. And even worse, you were mad at Sejanus for dragging you along in the first place.
It was the last time you went to see Marcus with Sejanus, but it was the first time Coriolanus kept you up at night. It was the way he had stepped in, how he reached for you first, instead of waiting to see if you wanted his comfort. It stuck out in your mind, and then it didn’t.
When your mom saw the bruises on your wrists the following day, she told you that you were done. Sejanus would have to do the mentoring on his own. This doesn’t mean that you heard about it any less. You probably heard about it more, getting every detail without ever having to ask, because Sejanus offered it up.
You didn’t see Coriolanus for a few days after that, despite the fact that you wanted to thank him. You were too invested in schoolwork, while also trying to come up with ideas for Sejanus to use with Marcus, because he wanted to make things right between them.
When you did see him next, it was the day of Arachne Crane’s funeral. The whole school had gathered on the front steps of the Academy. The groups were divided neatly and alphabetically by class, but Coriolanus wasn’t. He was in the front row, sitting alongside important individuals, namely President Ravenstill.
You had no idea why, until the Academy clock struck nine, and the entire crowd fell silent. That’s when he rose from his seat and walked to the podium, where he sang the anthem. The president then gave a speech about Arachne, how her life didn’t deserve to be taken when all the Capitol is doing is striving for peace.
You bit your tongue, hard. If they wanted peace, they should treat those in the districts together. You’d heard about what happened to Arachne, what she did to her tribute. She was teasing a starving girl, and while you don’t agree that taking a life is the right form of payback, you can’t blame the tribute.
The funeral procession came around the corner, following the drumming. At first, it was all peacekeepers from the honor guard. The crane was next, attached to a flatbed. And dangling from the hook, with bullets in her dead body, was the district girl. Below, shackled to the truck bed, were the twenty-three other tributes, filthy with their heads down.
You were sick, struggling to breathe, as you imagined the amount of pain they had to be in. As you pictured yourself hanging from that hook, or chained to a truck that you couldn’t even stand on. The rest of the funeral was a blur, as the truck disappeared.
Still, you went to find Coriolanus, ignoring your own brother to do so. He was standing near the podium, talking to Dean Highbottom, but as soon as he left, you slid in.
“You sounded amazing.” You said, Coriolanus turned to you with raised eyebrows. When he saw your face, he gave you a smile. “I wish I sounded half as good.”
“I’m sure you do.” He said, hand on your shoulder. “I haven’t seen you in a couple of days, is everything okay?”
“Ma told me I’m not allowed to help anymore, she saw the bruises.” You said, “I’m fine, though.”
“He left bruises?” That crease between his eyebrows returned.
“He was mad. I would be too.” You muttered. “They got dumped into a zoo, literally. You were there. How did it feel?”
His face contorted, “Wrong, but that doesn’t excuse his behavior.”
“You’re right.” You sighed. “I never got to properly thank you for stepping in. I think he would’ve let go eventually, but—”
“You don’t need to thank me, (Y/n).” He interrupted, watching as you reached into your backpack.
“I do, actually.” You pulled out a neat plate of bread pudding that had been sitting flat on the bottom of your bag. When you looked up, you saw his parted lips. “You can’t ask how I know, but I heard that you really like bread pudding. I made enough for you and Tigris, or even if you wanted to share it with Lucy Gray.”
“You bake.” He said.
“On occasion. If you have any requests, I’ll be more than happy to make it for you.” You nodded.
He gave you a smile. “Thank you, (Y/n), but I don’t think I could ever ask that of you.”
“Please, don’t hesitate.” You told him. “I’ll see you around.”
You’d expected to see Coriolanus in the hallways next in passing, not the hospital later that evening. The mentors had gone to the arena with the tributes to do televised interviews, when rebels set off several bombs, killing multiple people. Both of the tributes from Six were killed, as well as the Ring twins—Diana and Apollo. While three mentors had been injured, that being Coriolanus, Androcles Anderson and Gauis Breen. The latter one lost both of his legs.
And of course, with the exit being wide open, four tributes went running for it. The tributes from One were dead before they stepped foot out the door, while the girl from Two had made it to the river. She made it over the wall, but died in the fall. While Marcus… he disappeared completely.
Sejanus was, thankfully, uninjured. The Academy canceled classes, so he came straight home. He didn’t really speak until the following day, when he suggested for the two of you to visit Coryo in the hospital. You’d agreed, because leaving your brother alone while he was that upset didn’t seem right.
Ma made more meat loaf sandwiches, because Coriolanus seemed to like them so much. When you visited him, he sat up in the hospital bed. Sejanus set Coryo’s book bag down on a table, while you took a seat. Together, the three of you enjoyed the sandwiches, while talking about anything but Marcus.
When you were done, you wished for him to get well soon. It would be the second time that he’d stay on your mind, this time lasting longer. You didn’t like that he was hurt, especially when he didn’t deserve to be. The war was between the districts and the government, not the people in-between that were being forced to help.
It didn’t seem to bother Coriolanus, though. He kept fighting for his tribute, and you tried to pry him from your mind. It was easier to do when the Games did finally come around, especially that first day. When the cameras started with a wide shot of the arena as a whole, and the fourteen tributes that stood in a circle around the center.
Then the camera changed, as it slowly zoomed in on twin steel poles, twenty feet high with a crossbeam. And at the center, Marcus hung from shackles at his wrists, beaten bloody, face swollen. When he moved his lips, it showed his broken teeth.
You raised to your feet the same time that Sejanus had. He was standing a few feet in front of you, next to Coriolanus, who was watching him carefully. The only reason why you were allowed to be in the hall was because you were there to support your brother, and you quickly understood why.
Sejanus rushed forward, grabbed an empty chair, and hurled it at the screen, where Marcus’s mangled face was. “Monsters!” He screamed. “You’re all monsters here!”
You watched in silence as he left the hall, leaving you there. No one had moved after him, and you were too stunned for a minute to chase after him. Coriolanus turned in his chair, where he saw you grabbing at your wrists, where the bruises were just healing.
“(Y/n)--” He was worried, shaking his head.
“He’s right.” You breathed, backing up toward the door. “What have we done?”
“Miss Plinth,” A hand had grabbed you.
You jerked away, eyes wild, lips parted. It was Dean Highbottom, and there was a warning on his face, telling you not to cause a scene. You didn’t want to be like your brother. Except, it was too late for him to step in, because the two of you were already too similar. Born from the same tree branch that split into two.
“Get away from me.” The words were harsh, “Don’t touch me.”
He let you go, as you followed after Sejanus. He wasn’t too far, just down the hall, where he was heaving heavy breaths, hands in fists at his sides. The look he gave you could’ve killed anyone, but his expression softened when he realized it was you.
You hugged him, standing there for what felt like forever. Marcus ended up dying later that afternoon by another tribute, presumably a mercy killing. Sejanus encouraged you to go home, telling you that he’d be right behind you in a few hours. You listened, told Ma that Sejanus was upset and that was it.
Well, that’s what you thought, at least. He didn’t come home that night, and as it got later, Ma was getting more worried. She asked you if you had any ideas where he could’ve gone, and you told her no. All you could do was suggest Coriolanus, because they were close, and Coryo seemed to care.
Ma took you to the Snow penthouse, where Tigris opened the door, dressed in a nice lavender dress. With Ma in hysterics, you explained the situation, and she invited you inside to sit in the living room. Tigris made tea, while her grandmother took a seat in a chair nearby. On the television was the arena, but it was too dark to see anything, even with the moonlight.
Tigris poured jasmine tea into cups on the table, while your mom tried to clean herself up with the handkerchief. “You’re such nice people. I’m so sorry to have dropped in on you like this.”
“Any friend of Coriolanus is a friend of us all.” His grandmother said. “Plinch, did you say?”
Your eyebrows twitched, Ma didn’t skip a beat. “Plinth. It’s Plinth.”
“You know, Grandm’am, she sent the lovely casserole when Coriolanus was injured.” Tigris said to remind her.
“I’m sorry. It’s too late.” Ma sniffed.
“Please don’t apologize. You did exactly the right thing.” Tigris patted her shoulder, looking up. Her eyebrows raised suddenly. “Oh, here’s my cousin now! Perhaps he knows something.”
You turned, finding Coriolanus gently shutting the door behind him. He gave you a gentle smile, but when you didn’t reciprocate, it dropped slightly. “Mrs. Plinth, (Y/n), what an unexpected pleasure. Is everything all right?” He asked, coming closer.
“Oh, Coriolanus. It isn’t. Not at all. Sejanus hasn’t come home. (Y/n) said he left the Academy this morning, and I haven’t seen him since. I’m so worried." She said. “Where can he be? I know Marcus being like that hit him—” She placed a hand on your knee, hand squeezing. “Them hard. Do you know? Do you know where he could be?”
“He was upset, ma’am. BUt I don’t know that it’s any cause for worry. He probably just needed to blow off some steam. Took a long walk or something. I’d do the same thing myself.” He tried to ease her.
“But it’s so late. It isn’t like him to up and disappear, not without letting his ma know.”
“Is there anywhere you can think of he might go? Or somebody he might visit?” Tigris asked.
Ma shook her head. “No. No. Your cousin’s his only friend.”
Coriolanus looked at you, where you hand your palms on your lap. “You know, if he’d wanted company, I think he’d have come to me first. You can see how he might have needed some time alone to… to make sense of all this. I’m sure he’s all right. Otherwise you’d have heard of it.”
“Did you check with the Peacekeepers?” Tigris asked.
Ma nodded. “No sign of him.”
“You see?” Coriolanus asked. “There’s been no trouble. Maybe he’s even home by now.”
“Perhaps you should go and check.” Their grandmother suggested.
Tigris gave her a look. “Or you could just call.”
Ma shook her head. “No. Your grandma’s right. Home is the place we should be. And I should let you all get to bed.”
“Coriolanus will walk you.” Tigris said.
“Of course.” Coriolanus nodded, you got to your feet.
“My car’s waiting down the block.” Ma told them, getting up as well. She smoothed down her hair. “Thank you. You’ve all been so kind. Thank you.” She reached back to grab her handbag, you looked away from Coriolanus to the television, where you stopped.
There, on the screen, a shadowy figure came out the barricade. The moonlight catering the side of his face, the features eerily familiar. He was carrying something in his hands, as he crossed the arena to Marcus’s corpse, where he stopped. Above laid a sleeping girl, the tribute that had killed your friend to keep him from suffering.
“Shall I walk you to your car?” Coriolanus asked, Ma had begun toward him. “I bet you’ll find Sejanus in bed.”
“No.” The word was a whisper out of your mouth. “No, Coryo.” He’d turned his attention to you, mouth opening to speak, when you did it first. “Sejanus is in there.”
Coriolanus came closer, passing Ma. You reached out to grab him, hand on his shoulder. Sejanus knelt down, and tried his best to arrange Marcus in an appropriate manner. He rolled Marcus on his back, straightened his legs and tried to fold his arms over his chest. And then he stood up and held his hand out over Marcus’s body.
You couldn’t help the tears that sprung into your eyes.
“That’s your son in there? What’s he doing?” Asked their grandmother.
“He’s putting bread crumbs on the body.” You murmured, lips trembling. “So Marcus has food on his journey.”
“His journey where? He’s dead!”
“Back to wherever he came from.” Ma told them. “It’s what we do, back home. When someone dies.”
You swallowed thickly, a tear running down your face. A handkerchief materialized out of Coriolanus’s pocket, he passed it to you. “Thank you, Coryo.”
The phone rang a moment later. “Is the whole city up?” Their grandmother sighed.
“Excuse me.” Coriolanus said, holding your gaze for a moment, as he walked away. He turned his body away to speak.
You wiped your eyes with the handkerchief, and then folded it neatly to place back on the coffee table. You needed to leave, to go to Sejanus. Why hadn’t he mentioned this to you? Was it because he knew it was a stupid idea?
When Coriolanus came away from the phone, he sighed. “That was the Head Gamemaker. She’d like you to meet her at the arena to collect Sejanus, and I’m to accompany the both of you.”
“Is he in trouble?” Ma asked, eyes wide. “With the Capitol?”
“Oh, no. They’re just concerned with his well-being. Shouldn’t be long, but don’t wait up.” He told his family.
The three of you shuffled out of the apartment after that, going down the elevator and through the lobby. Your parents’ car rolled up silently, and the three of you got inside, with Coriolanus requesting the arena. The Avox nodded, nad began to drive down the streets in a hurry.
“First time we saw the Capitol, it was night, like this.” Ma spoke quietly.
“Oh, yes?” Coriolanus asked, looking at you.
“Sejanus sat right where you are, saying, ‘It’ll be all right, Ma. It’ll be okay.’ Trying to calm me down. When we all knew it was a disaster,” Ma looked out the window. “But he was so brave. So good. Only thinking of his ma.”
“Hm. Must have been a big change.” Coriolanus said.
“Family and friends cut us off.” You told him, adjusting in your seat.
“No new ones to be made here. Strabo—their pa, that is—still thinks it was the right thing to do. No kind of future in Two. His way of protecting us. His way of keeping Sejanus and (Y/n) from the Games.”
“Ironic, really. Given the circumstances.” Coriolanus said. “Now, I don’t know what Dr. Gaul has in mind, but I imagine she wants your help getting him out of there.”
“I don’t know if I can. Him so upset and all. I can try, but he’ll have to think it’s the right thing to do.” She said, glancing at you. “I can’t let you go inside. You two have always been close, but I don’t want you in there.”
“I don’t want her to go inside, either.” Coriolanus chimed in. “Maybe there will be a different way.”
When you got to the arena, there were people already waiting outside of the doors. A dozen Peacekeepers, a good handful of Gamemakers, including Dr. Gaul. You approached tentatively, unsure about her presence. She didn’t always come off stable, that’s why you tried to keep your distance.
Coriolanus noticed this, choosing to stand between you two.
“At least you’re punctual.” Dr. Gaul said. “Mrs. Plinth, I presume? And little (Y/n).”
You pressed your lips together. Ma nodded, “Yes, yes. I’m sorry if Sejanus has caused any inconvenience. He’s a good boy, really, It’s just he takes things so to heart.”
“No one could accuse him of being indifferent.” She agreed, looking at Coriolanus. “Any idea how we might rescue your best friend, Mr. Snow?”
“What’s he doing?” Coriolanus asked, ignoring the comment.
“Just kneeling there, looks like.” Dean Highbottom said, eyeing you. “Possibly in some kind of shock.”
“He appears calm. Perhaps you could send the Peacekeepers in now without startling him?” Coriolanus suggested.
“Too risky.” Dr. Gaul shot it down.
“What about putting his mother on a speaker, or a bullhorn?” He asked. “If you can darken the screen, surely you can manipulate the audio as well.”
“On the broadcast. But in the arena, we’d alert every tribute to the fact that there’s an unarmed Capitol boy in their midst.” Dean Highbottom said.
Coriolanus didn’t speak for a second. “What do you propose?”
“We think someone he knows needs to slip in as unobtrusively as possible and coax him out.” Dr. Gaul looked directly at you. “Namely, her.”
“No.” Coriolanus said immediately, shaking his head so hard that his blonde curls started to bounce. “She can’t go in there. I will.”
“Oh, no!” Ma cried. “It can’t be Coriolanus. The last thing we need is to put another child in danger. I’ll do it.”
“What we need is someone who can make a run for it, if necessary. If your daughter won’t, then Mr. Snow is the man for the job.” Dr. Gaul motioned to the Peacekeepers, who came over at her motion to dress him in body armor. “This vest should protect your vital organs. Here’s your pepper spray and a flash unit that will temporarily blind your enemies, should you make any.”
Coriolanus looked down at the bottle of pepper spray. “What about a gun? Or at least a knife?”
“Since you’re not trained, this seems safer. Remember, you’re not in there to do damage; you’re in there to bring your friend out as quickly and quietly as possible.” Dr. Gaul told him.
You started to shake your head, “Coryo, I can’t ask you to do this.”
“You aren’t asking.” He looked at you. “I’m volunteering.”
“He’s just a boy. Let me call my husband.” Ma begged.
Dean Highbottom gave Coriolanus a small smile. “He’ll be all right. It takes a lot to kill a Snow.”
You watched as Coriolanus’s face dropped, he sighed. And then he looked at you. “I’ll bring Sejanus out. Don’t worry.”
“Be careful.” You told him.
The Peacekeepers took him to the arena, where he disappeared inside. Your attention shifted to the news truck with the live feed of the tributes. It was dark though, too dark. You could barely make out anything, meaning you might as well had not been looking at all.
You were able to make out their figures, as Coriolanus slowly approached Sejanus to not scare him. They stood there, the minutes dragging on for what felt like forever, until they finally made the movement to leave, but not without Marcus’s body. They picked it up, made it a good deal across the arena before the other tributes came up to them. Less than a minute later, they came out.
And you were there in an instant, because you refused to leave without seeing either of the boys, while Ma went home. You had to push past the Peacekeepers to see Coriolanus and Sejanus, sitting on the tile. You crouched in front of them, hands on your knees.
“That was stupid of you, Sejanus.” You told your brother, looking at the blood pooling on the ground. “But you did what I couldn’t do.”
And then you looked at Coriolanus, who had his eyes on you already. You could see the scrapes on his face, his chin mostly, and the blood on his forehead. You reached out, he winced, but let you touch the area around the wounds.
“Thank you, Coryo.” You whispered.
His eyebrows furrowed. “Of course, (Y/n).”
From then on, seeing Coriolanus for longer than a few minutes at a time was rare. You looked forward to it each time. You saw him when Sejanus announced the Plinth prize, the sparkle in his eye at the mention of it.
He stopped by a couple days later, after Sejanus had gone to bed and Ma was cooking in the kitchen. You think he wanted to talk to Sejanus, possibly about the whole ordeal in the arena, but he had taken his sleeping medication. With the dosage he was on, there was no waking him.
You were sitting at the kitchen counter, swiveling side to side on the stool, talking to Ma as she baked her pies. You were about to go to bed, dressed in your pajamas, the only reason why you hadn’t was because you were waiting for her to put the peach pie in the oven first. At the sight of Coriolanus, the cuts on his face, and the smile on his lips, you’d clammed up.
“I was just heading off to bed.” You said to him, sliding from the chair.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for a piece of pie, (Y/n)?” Ma asked you, worry on her face.
“I’ll have a piece tomorrow.” You told her. “Besides, I think Coryo will have a piece big enough for the both of us, isn’t that right?” You smiled.
He nodded. “Sure.”
“Goodnight.” You murmured, pausing long enough to let Ma kiss your forehead. You waved to Coriolanus, and then disappeared around the corner, where curiosity stopped you.
Except, what they talked about while he enjoyed the blackberry pie wasn’t important, just about Sejanus and how the university would be better when he graduated. The real talk came after, when Pa wanted to see him. And Coriolanus went inside, closing the door behind him, which you then pressed your ear to.
“You look just like your father.”
“I hear that a lot,” Coriolanus said. “Did you know him?”
“Our business overlapped at times.” Pa said. “It’s striking, the resemblance. But you’re nothing like him, really.” He paused for a moment. “Nothing at all. Or you’d never have gone into that arena after my son. Impossible to imagine Crassus Snow risking his life for me. I keep asking myself why you did it.”
“I couldn’t let (Y/n) go inside. And he’s my friend.”
“No matter how many times I hear that, it’s difficult to believe. But even from the beginning, Sejanus singled you out. Maybe you take after your mother, huh? She was always gracious to me when I came here on business before the war. Despite my background. The very definition of a lady. Never forget it.” Pa said, there was another pause. “Are you like your mother?”
Coriolanus didn’t speak right away. “I’d like to think I am, in some respects.”
“In what respects?”
“Well, we shared a fondness for music.”
“Music, huh?”
“And I do think we both believed that good fortune was… something to be repaid… on a daily basis. Not taken for granted.” Coriolanus said.
“I’d agree with that.”
“Oh, good. Yes, well, so… Sejanus.”
“Sejanus. Thank you, by the way, for saving his life.”
“No thanks necessary. As I said, he’s my friend.”
“And (Y/n), is she your friend too?” Pa asked.
“Yes, she is.”
“She tells me that you’ve done a lot for her lately.” Pa said slowly. “You helped her at the zoo?”
“That was nothing.”
“I wouldn’t consider it so. She could’ve gotten seriously hurt if you hadn’t stepped in. You saw the bruises.” He said. “You’ve checked up with her since. And volunteered to keep her safe when Dr. Gaul suggested that she should go inside of the arena.”
“Well—”
“Coriolanus, in District Two, there are traditions we have for families like ours.” Pa said, your eyebrows drew together. “Wealthy families, I mean. I’m not sure if the Capitol has the same beliefs.”
“I’m sorry, I’m not following.” Coriolanus said.
“Arranged marriage.”
You felt your blood run cold, but at the same time, the heat flamed in your face, licking your cheeks. You pulled your ear away for a second, thinking that you shouldn’t be listening in on this conversation.
“I’ve heard of families coming together in the Capitol, but it’s not very common.”
“It’s for more than just wealth, it’s to combine names as well.” Pa told him. “Snow is a grand name, don’t you think?”
“As is Plinth.” Coriolanus agreed.
“So, you understand what I’m implying then? What would your grandmother think?”
“I think that she wouldn’t agree to doing it so soon.”
“Of course not, it would happen after graduation, before university.” Pa said, “Will you give me your home phone? I’d like to discuss this with your grandmother.”
After that point, seeing Coriolanus would be painful… except, you didn’t see him the following day. In fact, you didn’t see him again at all. The next time his name was brought up in your house was with Sejanus’s, which was tied in with the words District Twelve and Peacekeepers.
“What?” You asked, coming around the hallway corner. Ma’s eyes widened. “Sejanus is where?”
“Oh, darling, you weren’t supposed to hear that. We wanted to tell you tonight.”
You shook your head. “Sejanus and Coryo went to District Twelve? Why?”
“I believe Coriolanus Snow signed himself up.” Pa told you. “As for Sejanus, it was the best we could do. He won’t be there long.”
“And what about Coriolanus?”
Pa made a face, tilted his head, “Twenty years, is what I was hearing.”
Your mouth dropped open, a reaction that you couldn’t stop in time. “Is that the same for Sejanus?”
“Yes.”
The only option you were given to keep in touch was letters. You could write to either of them whenever you wanted. Ma even told you that she was going to pack them food to send, stuff that they’d never be able to get in the districts, let alone Twelve.
With it being summer, you had plenty of time on your hands to write, but every time you picked up the pencil, the words escaped you. Everything that you’d been bottling to save for Sejanus seemed meaningless. So, you mostly replied to what Sejanus said, which could be a lot. He carried the conversations mostly, and you told him that you missed him. And you’d continue to miss him until he finally came back.
Which would never happen, not that you knew that at the time. It was a quiet day when the news reached your parents about what happened. That your brother had got caught up in rebel activities, which was treason. He was hanged without a trial, without a single letter sent home. For once, your family’s money couldn’t buy his way out of this one.
A black hole appeared in your chest, sucking in everyone’s words, their emotions. Ma couldn’t help you, even though she tried. She spent more time with you, trying to get you to speak, but all you wanted was to forget. Or to go back in time and tell Sejanus he needed to stop, that his actions would cost him his life.
Sejanus.
The boy you grew up with, the one you trusted with every secret, the one that kept you safe. Who you’d play with as a child when no one else would, who would help you with your homework when you fell behind. His sweetness, his hopefulness, his personality. He’s gone. He’s gone and you never got to say goodbye.
All you gave him was half-assed letters. If you’d known that it would be the last time you talked to him, you would’ve done more. You would’ve said so much more.
It was like almost every piece of him was gone, until the next wave of news came. While Sejanus would never get to leave District Twelve, Coriolanus had been honorably discharged. He was coming home to the Capitol. And with it being weeks after Sejanus’s death, it opened up a conversation that you thought was done for good.
The Snow’s were falling. You’d heard the news about Tigris and their grandmother almost immediately after Coriolanus had left. They had to sell their apartment, the nice penthouse you went to visit once. They couldn’t afford to keep it, so they downgraded, but the apartment lay empty.
Pa had decided that it was time to revisit the topic of an arranged marriage when he heard that Coriolanus was coming back. Ma really liked Coryo, because he was such a good friend to Sejanus. With your brother being gone, their attention had shifted a little, split between you and Coryo. Why keep it that way when there was a solution?
His grandmother agreed to it. It took a little bit of convincing, but at the mention of Pa buying the penthouse back as a gift, it made her cave. A letter was promptly sent to Coriolanus, who wasn’t to leave Twelve for another few days while they settled his paperwork.
And his reply? ‘It would be my pleasure.’
As you straighten out the dress again, you look at the time on the clock that the train station has on display. Coriolanus should be arriving at any minute. It was requested that he were to be picked up by a Peacekeeper truck to take him to the Citadel, but Pa pulled strings, as he always does. He wanted your face to be the first thing that Coriolanus saw when he stepped off.
You didn’t agree to this. You wanted to put this off for as long as possible. Sejanus chose to go to District Twelve to follow Coriolanus. They were close. He was the last one to have a conversation with your brother when he was alive. Besides, you’re set to marry him in a few short weeks. His suit measurements take place in two days.
A horn sounds, you look up from your polished shoes, the one scuf you managed to get this morning on the walk here. It was too late to turn around and change the shoes. Besides, they’re the only pair that matches this dress. A whole new outfit bought for Coriolanus, and he won’t even realize it.
The train pulls in the station, blowing cool air into your face. You take in a deep breath, trying to correct your posture. This will be the first time you’ve seen Coriolanus in months. Does he even know that you’re here to greet him?
It doesn’t matter. Once the doors open, you take a few steps toward them, trying to be casual. It’s hard to, with the hammering in your chest. You press your lips together, regripping the handbag, coming to a stop in front of the doors. The first few people that file out look like regular Capitol workers.
You’re too busy looking for Coriolanus’s blonde curls, that you almost miss him stepping out of the doors. His eyes flicker up for a moment, likely to collect his bearings, glancing over you.
You must register in his mind the next second, because he looks directly at you again, stepping off the train. You swallow, eyes stuck on his hair. Or rather, the lack of it. His head’s been shaved.
“(Y/n).” He smiles, “I wish I would’ve known you’d be here, I would’ve had something for you.”
“Your curls…” You murmur, face beginning to contort. If they got rid of his hair when he was enlisted, was the same done to Sejanus?
Coriolanus closes the distance between the two of you, pulling you into a tight hug. You press your forehead to his chest, hands gripping the clothes he’s wearing as you fight off the tears that threaten you. You don’t want to cry, you’ve spent so much of your time doing exactly that. For once, you want to be in control.
“I’m so sorry, (Y/n).” He says, “I can’t imagine how difficult it’s been.”
“I miss him.” The words are strained, you pull your head back, looking at Coriolanus. “I wish he would’ve told me what he was planning.”
“He’d never put you in danger.”
“I know.” You back away from the hug. Coriolanus holds out his elbow for you to take, you begin to lead him to the car. “I trust you’ve learned a lot these past few months. Did you get to see Lucy Gray, at least?”
His face smooths out, this was not the right question to ask. He lets out a sigh, shaking his head. “I did, but her lifestyle is much different from mine.”
You nod. “You’re not district.”
“I’m not covey.” He corrects, a smile hinting at the corners of his lips.
“Oh, so she had you singing?”
“I wouldn’t say that.” He looks away, at someone passing by.
It’s quiet between the two of you for a moment. There was so much you wanted to say to him, but much like the letters to your brother, the words have left you. You chew on the inside of your cheek.
“You have something on your mind.” Coriolanus says, it’s not a question.
You sniff. “It’s um… It’s about Sejanus, just one thing I have to know before I can stop thinking about him.”
“He wouldn’t want you to do that.”
“It’s to put my mind at ease.” You stop outside of the car. “I know it’s not your tradition, Coriolanus, but were you able to…”
He nods. “I was.”
You meet his eyes. “The bread crumbs? They let you see his body?”
“He has food on his journey.” He tells you.
You breathe out a sigh. “Oh, good. Ma will be happy to hear that.”
Neither of you move for the car door, standing there, staring at each other. He eventually starts to shake his head. “(Y/n), I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”
“It’s too late for that.” You tell him. “We can talk about it more later on, in a few days.”
Coriolanus reaches for the car door, motioning for you to go inside first. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
You don’t move to get inside. “Thank you for being such a good friend to my brother.”
He tilts his head. “You don’t have to thank me.”
“You’re the only piece of him I have left.” You shift on your feet, “I have to thank you.”
--
this was part of my 3k celebration!!
#ilguna#coriolanus snow#corilanus snow imagine#coriolanus snow oneshot#coriolanus snow fanfic#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow x you#coriolanus snow x yn#coriolanus snow x y/n#coriolanus imagine#coriolanus oneshot#coriolanus fanfic#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus x you#coriolanus x yn#coriolanus x y/n#thg#the hunger games#tbosas#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#3k celebration#anon#ask#requested#angst
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Hey! Can I get the number 89 (in honour of 1989 tv) with finnick ?
☼ lovestruck, lovesick, lovelorn pt1 (Finnick Odair) ☼
warnings; swearing, death mention, death, gore for sure, blood, weapon usage, mention of prostitution.
wc; 8.6k
prompt; 86. "Do you trust her?" // "No, but I trust her anger."
notes; i already did 89 for Peeta (castaway) and i'm trying not to do any repeats, so we're going with 86 :)
--
The golden Cornucopia sits abandoned in the middle of this black sand island, whereas normally it’s occupied by the Careers to ensure that no intruders steal from them. There must not be anything worth protecting in here, then, besides the weapons that are displayed.
This allows the group to spread out, picking places to rest in the shade. Peeta lowers Beetee to the ground, propping him up against a box. He backs off, going to stand next to Katniss.
Beetee calls out to Wiress, making her go over to him. She crouches down, hands on her knees, waiting. In her limited state of mind, you’re fairly surprised that she’s still comprehending people, much less requests. He holds up his coil of wire, she takes it. “Clean it, will you?”
Wiress nods, wordlessly getting to her feet and going to sit on the edge of the island to clean the spool of blood. She dunks it in the water, occasionally using her fingers to rub a particularly hard spot. While she does this, she begins to sing, no longer repeating the words ‘tick tock’.
It must be some sort of nursery rhyme from District Three, because you don’t recognize it. It’s about a mouse running up and down a clock, which is fairly appropriate, given the recent discovery, thanks to her.
“Oh, not the song again.” Johanna says, rolling her brown eyes. “That went on for hours before she started tick-tocking.”
Wiress stops suddenly, getting to her feet, posture rigid as she points to the jungle and says, “Two.”
The rest of you watch as a white wave of fog begins to seep onto the beach. From here, it doesn't seem so threatening. You probably wouldn’t think twice about it, if you hadn’t run for your life from it early this morning. While it melted your jumpsuit and poisoned your skin, causing you to strip to your under clothes and for your body to be covered in scabs from where it touched you.
You’d rather fight the orange monkey muttations a hundred times than risk doing that again.
“Yes, look, Wiress is right. It’s two o’clock and the fog has started.” Katniss says.
“LIke clockwork.” Peeta agrees. “You were very smart to figure that out, Wiress.”
Wiress smiles, and then kneels in the sand to continue singing and dunking the coil in water. “Oh, she’s more than smart.” Beetee says from beside you. Your eyes slide over to him. “She’s intuitive. She can sense things before anyone else. Like a canary in one of your coal mines.”
“What’s that?” Finnick asks Katniss.
“It’s a bird that we take down into the mines to warn us if there’s bad air.” She says.
“What’s it do, die?” Johanna scoffs.
“It stops singing first. That’s when you should get out. But if the air’s too bad, it dies, yes. And so do you.” Katniss ends that line of conversation, turning to go inside of the Cornucopia.
Johanna goes in after her to poke around in the weapons, since she’s been empty handed the entire time. Funny how Beetee was able to make it to the Cornucopia before she did, even if it ended up getting him hurt because of it.
You briefly glance at Finnick from where you were watching Johanna, and you have to do a double-take when you realize that he’s staring at you. He looks you over, up and down, which would be flattering, if you didn’t know that he was assessing your demeanor, deciding if you were a threat.
You squint at him, face twisting. “What?”
“Nothing.” He tells you.
“It’s not nothing if you’re looking at me like that.” You snap. “Leave me alone.”
He shakes his head, but doesn’t say anything back. You’re getting tired of him thinking that you’re going to betray the alliance. You’re in this as much as he is, you volunteered to be here. If anything, he should be a little grateful that he got a district partner that’s invested and capable.
He doesn’t see it that way, though. He thinks that you’re just as bad as Enobaria and Brutus—that you’re itching to get back into an arena to kill for some spotlight. And you know this, because he told you himself on the train. Once you were out of sight of the cameras, he tried to lay you out in front of Mags and the escort, and you shut him down.
You know he disagrees with the way you choose to handle situations, but to think that you would get in the way of a rebellion was a slap to the face. You made sure he knew that later on, when you were out of earshot of the Peacekeepers. If he wanted to think of you so lowly, fine. The line is drawn when he begins to implant those ideas in other people’s heads, too. Especially since you’ve done nothing to deserve it.
It didn’t matter to him. In fact, he tried to block you from being invited into the alliance by telling Haymitch that you could fuck the whole plan if your mood changes. He said all it would take is one disagreement, one thing not going the way you wanted, one wrong look, and you’d make sure that everyone else would be brought down by it.
Thankfully, Haymitch knows better than to just take Finnick’s word for it. He might be a drunk, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t paying attention for the past ten years. He knows that you and Finnick have a history of not getting along. If anything, you’ll sabotage Finnick more than you will the alliance as a whole.
Which is why he told you that you have a place in it, if you want. And while everyone else places stepping stones to make sure that the plan to get rescued is in place. You were told that you have two jobs; the first one being protecting Katniss and Peeta, a task that you were already prepared to risk your life for. As for the second one—if anything were to go wrong, if someone unexpected were to get killed, you’ll replace their shoes, and get Katniss and Peeta to the end of the day at all costs.
This is why you’ve been on edge. If Finnick would see past his hatred for you, and thought about it, he’d realize that you’re trying to make sure that Katniss and Peeta are in good positions. You are not the threat here.
Johanna lets out a grunt, you turn your head in time to watch as she throws an axe through the air, straight at the Cornucopia. It hits the sun-softened gold with a gentle thud, and it sticks. She crosses the area, pulling it out by the handle, making a face at the blade.
Katniss is digging through the weapons, probably looking for more arrows to add to her collection, because two sheaths aren’t enough. When she finds one, she swings it over her back and comes out to stand over Peeta, who’s drawing a map of the arena onto a large leaf that he brought from the jungle. He slices the circle, creating twelve equal wedges.
“Look how the Cornucopia is positioned.” He says, looking up at her.
Her eyebrows draw in, and she turns around to take a look at the building she just came out of. “The tail points to twelve o’clock.”
“Right, so this is the top of our clock.” He says, numbering the wedges one through twelve. “Twelve to one is the lightning zone.” He proceeds to write lightning in the wedge, and then goes clockwise, adding blood, fog, and monkeys in the next sections.
“And ten to eleven is the wave.” She says, he writes it down.
Finnick comes over with Johanna, the two of them have upped the weapon count on their bodies. And he thinks you’re the dangerous one, as if you don’t have a sword and a couple knives on you. Does he really need two tridents and half a dozen knives? It makes him look…
Hot, a voice whispers from the depth of your mind, It makes him look hot.
He’s standing in a patch of sun, where the Cornucopia doesn’t quite reach. The sunbeams baking his already tanned skin. His eyes are a brighter shade of sea green, with the light being in his eyes. He looks like he belongs at the bottom of the ocean, commanding the creatures that dwell in it.
He must feel your eyes on him, because he flickers over to yours. You stare for a second longer, before blinking and looking away, back at the map that’s being drawn.
It’s a shame that Finnick decided years back that he would rather keep you at a distance instead of making a friend out of you. The two of you are so similar that it hurts at times, but all he can see are the differences, which hurts more.
The both of you won at young ages, with him setting the record, while you won at fifteen. He had an advantage in his Games, though, because the sponsors were drawn in by his good looks for being someone so young. This meant that he had everything he could have ever asked for gifted to him in the arena.
On the other hand, you didn’t make much of an impression during your reaping or the Tribute Parade, forcing you to change the strategy that you’d been given by Finnick and Mags. They wanted you to keep your head down, but if you wanted even a sliver of a chance, you needed to make your name big.
So, that’s exactly what you did. And that’s where the resentment he has for you, started. You showed off absolutely all your skills in the Training Center, making sure the Gamemakers knew you had potential, getting you a score of nine. During your interviews, you told Caesar that there wasn’t a single hurdle you wouldn’t jump to get home.
That statement was put to the test in the arena, when you killed several tributes, including your own district partner, because you knew it put you one step closer to getting out. You didn’t care what bridges you had to burn, how many sponsors you had to lose, or if you lost the support of your mentors. Nothing could stop you, and it didn’t.
Finnick hates that you had no remorse when you got out of the arena. Or now, because you told him that this is the hill you’ve chosen to die on, because between life and death, you choose life. He can’t wrap his head around the fact you’re so cold. How could the two of you be from the same district?
The similarities came back into play when you turned sixteen, when the Capitol realized that they do care about you. Which changed your title from victor to Capitol darling. You were told to join Finnick and be a prostitute, or President Snow would kill your family.
This is where you screwed up, believing him to be bluffing. You didn’t think he would actually do it, but he’s a man of his word. When you were done listening to the screams and pleas of your parents to spare your siblings, Snow told you that if you didn’t agree, Finnick’s family would be next.
You had no choice, you had to agree. And when Finnick found out that you landed right where he was, there wasn’t a single shred of empathy he had toward you. Not even after you returned to District Four, and he learned that your family had been murdered in your home. The one you’d be forced to stay in for an additional two weeks while they got your victor house ready.
If you weren’t indifferent to his existence before, you sure as hell were then.
“Did you notice anything unusual in the others?” Katniss asks Johanna and Beetee, referring to the wedges.
“Only blood.” Johanna says, Beetee nods.
“I guess they could hold anything.” Katniss looks down at Peeta.
“I’m going to mark the ones where we know the Gamemakers’ weapon follows us out past the jungle, so we’ll stay clear of those.” Peeta says, drawing diagonal lines on the fog and wave beaches. He then sits back. “Well, it’s a lot more than we knew this morning, anyway.”
You look up, going to check on Wiress, since she’s gone quiet. Your eyes find Gloss, water dripping from his bare skin, knife sliding across the skin on her throat. It’s too late to save her, you know this when the blood begins to come down her neck like a waterfall.
The knife on your belt is in your hand and flying through the air in the matter of seconds. It’s headed right for Gloss, and when the blade lodges in the center of his forehead, it throws him back. This kills him instantly.
A movement out of the corner of your eye makes you turn your head, hand reaching for the knife that’s lined up next, but Johanna’s on it. She buries her axe in the center of Cashmere’s chest, eliminating her.
Three cannons blast, back to back.
Finnick swings his trident upward, deflecting a spear that had been aiming for Peeta, thrown by Brutus. Finnick goes to twist his body to take the knife that Enobaria throws at Beetee, but he misses by an inch. It’s too late for you to save Beetee, as the knife shatters the lens on the right side, and the blade buries itself in his eye socket.
Fuck.
Another cannon blasts.
You shove Finnick out of the way to chase after Enobaria and Brutus, who are making their escape around the backside of the Cornucopia. They’ve successfully killed two of your most important allies, and they don’t even realize it.
The two Careers are running down one of the sand strips to the beach. You manage to throw one more knife at Brutus before he’s out of range. It slams into his right calf, taking him down. He lands on his hands and knees, which is exactly what you were hoping for.
Right as you’re about to step onto the strip, the ground beneath you jerks, throwing you down. The center island of the Cornucopia begins to spin, fast. You press your sword between your body and the ground, digging your fingers into the grooves to hold on.
It’s only thirty seconds later when it slams to a stop without warning.
You squeeze your eyes shut, taking measured breaths to calm the growing annoyance in your chest. The Gamemakers knew you would kill Brutus, and later Enobaria, if you caught up with her. That’s why they had to intervene, otherwise the fun of the Games would be gone.
You slam your fist against the rock, pushing yourself to your knees. You lean back on your heels slightly, face to the sun while you collect yourself. With Wiress and Beetee being gone, this is a very large hiccup that you’re going to have to smooth out. You jinxed yourself, didn’t you?
A sigh leaves you as you get to your feet, swinging the sword into your hand. As you round the corner, you can see that everyone else is upright. Finnick looks over at you, eyebrows raised, waiting for good news, because you were the closest to the Two tributes.
“Brutus is injured. I would’ve had him if the fuckin’ Gamemakers had minded their own business.” You stab the tip of the sword into a patch of sand.
“Where’s Volts?” Johanna asks, looking around the group.
“He’s dead.” You tell her.
She meets your eyes, “What happened?”
“I—” Finnick starts.
“I didn’t block the knife in time.” You talk over him. “Enobaria’s got a strong arm, it went right through his glasses.”
You can see Finnick staring at you from the corner of your eye. You lick your lips, tasting the salt of the water, before pressing them together. When you look at him, the two of you stare for a long second.
You, Johanna and Finnick know what this means. If just one of the Three tributes had been killed, you could’ve used the other. With both of them being gone, it means that someone needs to pick up their job, and you were the one that was elected to do just that.
“What now?” Finnick asks you.
You tilt your head, eyes going out to the water, finding two of the four bodies. It’s got to be Wiress and Gloss, because they’d been right next to each other when they died. You lean your sword up against the Cornucopia before wandering forward, to the edge of the island.
Wiress is floating on her back, on her stomach sits the spool of wire, golden and shining in the sunlight. You begin to head down the sand strip closest to her body. “I want the wire.”
“What for?” Johanna asks, “That was his weapon, not yours.”
You look over your shoulder. “It has to be now, doesn’t it?”
Johanna makes a face, but it’s not one of doubt. She knows that you’re right, that’s why she won’t bother to argue. Not that she would, anyway. You and Johanna get along, basically two peas in the same pod. She just likes Finnick more, because he puts up with her bullshit.
You jog as close as you can get to Wiress’s body, before diving in the warm water. It’s a nice break from the sun, even if it is for a minute. It doesn’t take long to get to her body, prying the coil from her fingers. You’re about to swim away, when you hesitate, closing her eyes.
Finnick is waiting for you on the strip when you get back to it. You place the wire on the rock, and he reaches down to help you up. Your face twists, but you take his hand, letting him help. The moment you’re on both feet, he pulls you close, a rough hand on your shoulder as he pulls you close to speak in your ear.
“If you can’t do this, you need to tell me. I’ll figure something else out.” Finnick harshly whispers.
You jerk back, squinting at him. “Worry about yourself.”
As you stoop to grab the wire, Finnick shakes his head. “I mean it, (Y/n).”
“And so do I.” You tell him, lowering your voice. “There’s a reason why Haymitch trusted me with this, and not you.”
He raises his eyebrows, “We’re back to this, huh?”
You scoff loudly. “You’re the one that’s upset by it, Finnick. So, here’s a fucking suggestion: deal with it.” You shake your head. “You’re so worried that I’m going to betray the alliance, that’s you’re forgetting that this is what I do.” You motion to the jungle with your free hand. “Enobaria and Brutus can run all they want, but we both know they’re going to have to come out eventually if they plan on finishing us off. And when they do, they’re going to get it.
“Not from you, not from Johanna, from me.” You seethe, moving around Finnick to head back up to the Cornucopia. You throw your hands up, one of them still holding the wire. “Face it, Finnick, I’ve got this handled.”
You turn around, finding that your three other allies have their eyes on you. You ignore them, watching where you place your feet. On the island, you retrieve your sword, dropping the wire onto a box. Finnick is a few feet behind you, wearing a hard expression.
You hate it when you have to talk to him like that, but you can’t do it any other way if you want him to listen to you. It’s like he doesn’t care unless you’re being hostile, except that tone of voice has him on edge, afraid that you’re going to flip a switch.
There is no happy medium. It’s like he’s dead-set on thinking that you’re an unlikable person. You wouldn’t have minded having an actual conversation between you, Finnick and Johanna to figure out a plan together. It’s his fault that he decided to take the situation into his own hands by assuming that you wouldn’t have the ability to fill Beetee’s shoes.
It makes you mad, so now you’re going to take care of it by yourself. As much as he wants you to ask for help, you’ll do everything in your power to make sure you don’t need him. Or the others, for that matter.
“Let’s get off this stinking island.” Johanna says once Finnick has joined the group.
You dig through the weapons in the Cornucopia, looking for a pair of knives that aren’t too short. The only ones that are available are displayed on the wall in the very back. They’re slightly curved, not too heavy. They’ll work just fine.
You watch as Peeta, Finnick and Johanna start in three different directions.
You stand next to Katniss, watching this. When they realize that no one is following them, they stop.
“Twelve o’clock, right?” Peeta asks. “The tail points at twelve.”
“Before they spun us.” Finnick says. “I was judging by the sun.”
“The sun only tells you it’s going on four, Finnick.” Katniss tells him. “Any one of these paths could lead to twelve o’clock.”
You tuck the knives in your belt, as you circle the Cornucopia with them to try and find the path that’ll lead to the twelve beach. Only, the jungle is perfectly replicated in every section, down to the last tree. Johanna suggests following Enobaria and Brutus’s path, but it’s been washed away.
Katniss stops. “I should have never mentioned the clock. Now they’ve taken that advantage away as well.”
“For now.” You murmur. “We still have the wave at ten to tell us, we’ll be back on track after that.”
“Yes, they can’t redesign the whole arena.” Peeta says.
“It doesn’t matter.” Johanna’s growing impatient, wanting to move. “You had to tell us or we never would have moved our camp in the first place, brainless. Come on, I need water. Anyone have a good gut feeling?”
You let them decide which strip to take to the beach. Katniss and Peeta begin to lead the way. You grab the wire, motioning for Johanna and Finnick to go next, but they don’t budge. You roll your eyes and duck your head, putting a good distance between you and Peeta before you walk.
“What’s the plan?” Johanna’s voice sounds far, and she’s trying to be quiet, but there’s not enough going on for it to conceal her.
“She says she’ll handle it.” Finnick murmurs, you can’t tell if he’s mad or not.
“That’s it?” She asks, “It looked like she was yelling at you.”
“She did.” He says. “She told me to worry about myself, and she’ll handle Enobaria and Brutus.”
Johanna doesn’t speak right away. “Do you trust her?”
“No, but I trust her anger.” He tells her. “She’s right, this is what she does best.”
“So, you want to follow behind her?”
“Do you have any other ideas?” Finnick shoots back.
“No.” Johanna sighs.
When you get to the jungle, they look inside of it, trying to figure out if there’s anything waiting inside or not. When you can’t see any immediate threats, they relax.
“Well, it must be monkey hour. And I don’t see any of them in there.” Peeta says. “I’m going to try to tap a tree.”
“No, it’s my turn.” Finnick objects. “I’ll at least watch your back.”
“Katniss can do that.” Johanna says. “We need you to make another map. The other washed away.” She reaches up, yanking off a large leaf to hand to him. “(Y/n) can stay with us, while she figures out what to do with the wire.”
You drop it in the sand, along with your sword, as you sit down. Peeta crouches beside you, beginning to make his map, again. As you watch him draw the slices, your mind begins to wander.
Katniss and Peeta are the Careers’ focus. They want to target the ones with the highest scores first, and then work their way down. If they take out a few of you in the process, then that’s great, but they’re afraid of what the Twelve tributes could’ve possibly done in order to get a perfect score.
It was a little odd for Gloss to go for Wiress, if this is the case. And Cashmere wasn’t able to kill anybody before she died. You guess she might have been going for Katniss, but Johanna was in between them, she wasn’t going to make it that far. That’s why Brutus tried to get Peeta with the spear, and maybe the knife was originally aimed for Peeta, not Beetee?
You just can’t wrap your head around their strategy of getting rid of the Three tributes. Were Enobaria and Brutus that worried about you guys coming up with a plan to use the explosives on the tribute platforms? It wouldn’t be the first time it happened in the Games, it’s just a stupid idea to do it in the water, when you have nothing to steady yourself on.
Either way, you need to figure out a way to draw them in. If there’s anything you know for sure, it’s that they’ll wait until dark to attack again, because they’ll have cover. It’s only the two of them now, which means they won’t attack the five of you all together, they’ll get overpowered in seconds. They’ll wait until you split up.
You play with the wire, twisting it between your fingers while you think.
If they send another twenty-four rolls from District Three tonight, you’ll have no choice but to go into the jungle for the lightning section, because that’s where they’ll be rescuing you out of the arena. You would just say that you should go up to the lightning tree and wait, except you won’t know what time it is until ten, like you said.
When the wave does it, you’ll have two hours to get to the tree. After that, Katniss and Peeta will have to get split up long enough to get the tracker out of their arms. That’ll be the perfect time to kill Enobaria and Brutus, too.
You just need a reason for them to split up. Johanna’s already agreed to getting it out of Katniss’s arm, which left Peeta for Finnick. You need some sort of placebo plan in the meantime, something for them to focus on to keep their minds off of the fact that the situation is going to be very, very suspicious.
“That’s it.” Peeta says, sitting back. “I don’t—”
A scream cuts through the still air, silencing him. You whip around to look back at the jungle, unsure of whether or not it belongs to Katniss. As you get to your feet, sword in your hand, you can hear another voice, shouting back. That one sounds like Katniss.
“What’s happening?” Peeta asks.
You get to your feet before he does, pulling the sword into your hand as you break through the jungle, swinging at any leaves in your way. “I think we chose the wrong section.”
“It’s supposed to be the monkey mutts right now, how can it be anything else?” Peeta asks.
Your face twists as you look over your shoulder, finding that Johanna’s eyes have rolled back as far as she can get them. “Because it’s the next hour?” She snarks.
Peeta doesn’t respond. For a moment, you’re genuinely concerned that the forcefield on the first day might have fried his brain a lot more than you thought. When you begin to think of all the decisions he’s made over these past couple of days, you relax. It’s not really out of his nature to say something stupid once in a while.
You’re about twenty yards into the jungle when you stop suddenly, sword at your side, eyes scanning the trees above. When Johanna and Peeta finally pause, you realize just how quiet it is out here.
Johanna takes a step or two forward, coming to stand next to you, looking up at the tree branches. She covers her eyes with one hand, squinting. “There’s no birds.”
“Exactly what I was thinking.” You tell her, your normal voice feels too loud. “There’s not even insects.”
“What are you thinking?” She asks, looking at you.
“I feel like it’s too early to be the beast, because the sun was down further yesterday.”
She nods. “A new hour.”
“That doesn’t explain why it’s so quiet.” Peeta says.
“Could be something in the trees.” You tell him, turning your body to face him. “That’s why I don’t want to go further in.”
“But Katniss and Finnick are in there.” Peeta shakes his head. “We have to.”
“Don’t you think they would’ve called for help by now?” You ask, “We heard Katniss say something, but then she stopped.”
“And they can’t be dead because there’s no cannon.” Johanna says after. “What if they’re hurt?”
You look further into the jungle. “It’s a bad idea.”
“We have to try.” Peeta says, starting toward the two of you.
You move in time to let him pass without running into your shoulder. He makes it an additional five yards before he walks smack into a wall, head bouncing off. A little smile fights its way onto your face, and then it vanishes when you realize that this is exactly what happened when he hit the forcefield.
He reaches out, going to touch it. You stride forward, grabbing the back of the neck of his undershirt, yanking him back. “Are you stupid?”
“Wait.” He swats your hand free. “Watch.”
You grab his wrist when he holds his hand out again, causing him to look at you with wide eyes. “I’m not taking any chances with you.”
“Then do it yourself.” Peeta motions, you let go. “It would’ve blown me back if it was a forcefield. Besides, it’s too far down.”
You look at space in front of you, seemingly fine. The wall that he’d run into isn’t even visible. You take in a breath, holding it, before sticking your hand out in the direction of it.
The palm of your hand vibrates against it, you apply pressure, wondering if it’ll budge if you lean into it, but it doesn’t move. You look down at your sword, pressing your lips together. If this is a forcefield, this will most definitely kill you. Still, you swing the sword into the invisible wall, and you’re pleasantly surprised when it doesn’t explode into sparks upon contact.
“Well…” You trail off, beginning to walk around the wall, keeping one hand on it. No matter where you touch, or how far along you walk, the wall doesn’t stop. You make it into the next section of the jungle, and around the corner, and still feel it there. When you make it back to Johanna and Peeta, you shake your head. “Sealed.”
“They’re inside?” Peeta asks. “Do you think they can hear us?”
“I’m going to say no.” Johanna grunts, swinging her axe into the wall repeatedly. “If we can’t hear the birds,” Her voice is strained, “Then we can’t hear them.” She stops, tossing the axe aside, it lands next to a bush. She sighs, “I guess we’re going to wait out here.”
Peeta doesn’t like this idea, you can tell by the way his face screws up, but he knows you don’t have any other choice.
“I’m going to grab the wire, then.” You tell her.
“Speaking of it, come up with anything yet?” She asks, eyebrows raised.
“Almost.” You say, walking away from her.
When you get to the beach and find the wire, you don’t go back into the jungle right away. You stand beneath a patch of shade, staring at the Cornucopia, and the trees beyond it, squinting.
From what you can tell, Enobaria and Brutus aren’t on the beach or in the treeline, which means that they’re in those trees, somewhere. They must be fairly far in, where they’re resting. They likely won’t come out again until they’ve been sponsored and their wounds are healing. And even then, they’ll make sure you’re not on the beach, first.
Or maybe they are able to see you, and you just can’t see them.
If you were in their shoes, you’d be watching your every move right now to figure out what you’re doing. And if that’s the case, it doesn’t matter what you do with this wire, they’ll already know the plan. Really, it would just be an excuse to split Katniss and Peeta.
So, that’s what it’ll be.
The wire could be used for a number of things, you could probably make a trap out of it. There’s enough of it for you to bring it to the tree and back down to the beach, twice. The question is what Beetee would have used it for.
You close your eyes, listening to the waves on the beach, trying to remember how Beetee won his Games. You were talking to Mags about it the other day, she was telling you that it’s been thirty years since he won. Back then, he wasn’t the strongest tribute either, he had to make something to electrocute the last remaining tributes.
He wouldn’t really be able to do that now. He had the sources—the lightning at midnight and the water at the center. In the condition he was in before he got killed, he wouldn’t have been able to make the trip up to the tree, back down to the water, and up again to be out of the way of the electricity. And the chances of the wire being cut by the Careers isn’t that low, even in your situation now.
You’d need someone at the base of the tree, and someone unspooling the wire down to the water…
Your eyes pop open, it takes them a second to adjust to the sudden light. You stare at the water. This is what Beetee was going to do, wasn’t it? The wire acts as a conductor. If you hook it up to the tree at the right time when it strikes, it’ll fry everything in the water.
But what you want is to kill the Careers, in a way. The sand would have to be wet too, or at least damp. Which… Which will be the exact case when the wave hits at ten, and it’ll be cooler out, so the water won’t evaporate as quickly. If you bury the spool in the sand, it should have the entire beach covered and the water.
“Bingo.” You say, grabbing the coil.
You join the others back inside of the jungle, finding Peeta on the floor, forehead pressed to the invisible wall. Johanna’s pacing back and forth, arms crossed over her chest. When you get closer, you’re able to see that Katniss and Finnick are on the other side, both of them with their hands over their ears.
When a twig snaps beneath your weight, Johanna looks over. She lets out a sigh, shoulders slumping. “What took you so long?”
“Came up with a plan.” You tell her, dropping the wire and your sword next to one of her axes.
“What plan?” Peeta asks, unmoving.
“On how to kill the remaining Careers.” You wink at Johanna, but it’s not flirtatious.
You know she understands when the crease appears between her eyebrows, giving you a slight nod. “Care to enlighten us?”
“When they’re out, I will. I don’t want to have to repeat myself.” You nod at the other two. “What’s going on in there?”
“I think it’s jabberjays.” Johanna says, pointing up at the trees behind the wall. “They’re fifty of them in the trees. Katniss tried killing them, of course it didn’t work.”
Your eyes land on Finnick, finding his muscles rigid. You crouch to get a better look at his face, there’s a streak of red from his nose, down his lips, and off his chin. “What happened to Finnick?”
“He ran face-first into the wall.” Peeta says. “It was a bloody nose.”
You hum, lowering yourself to the ground. “Hopefully it won’t be much longer.”
—
The wall suddenly breaks, Peeta falling forward. He catches himself on his hands, getting to his feet. He doesn’t even say anything, just scoops Katniss into his arms, and walks straight out of the jungle with her, leaving the arrows behind.
You sit up, looking over at Johanna to see that she’s staring at you. She tilts her head, “Do you want to try?”
You take in a breath, “I’ll let you know if it works.”
She nods, following after Katniss and Peeta, because someone needs to be watching over them. You get up, walking a few feet over to Finnick, before crouching down beside him.
You lift a hand, hovering it over his back for a minute, and then change your mind, placing your elbows on your thighs to lean on them. He’s got his eyes closed, head down. He probably can’t even hear you. You don’t even know how he’ll react to being touched, much less by you.
You press your lips together, heart hurting at the sight of him. It’d be better if Johanna were here, she can talk to him. All you’ll do is upset him more. You grind your teeth, once again wishing that this wasn’t your relationship. As you go to stand up, the hands over his ears loosen, head beginning to lift.
He looks around in the jungle first, making sure the threat is gone. That’s when he notices you beside him, waiting. His eyes are watery, he swallows.
“Hey,” You murmur, “Are you okay?”
He stares at you, eyebrows drawing in.
You nod, “I’ll go get Johanna.”
Once again, you try to get to your feet, when he speaks, “Why?”
“Why… what?” You ask, pausing.
“Why would you get Johanna?” He asks.
You turn your head in the direction of the beach. Is he really going to make you say it? Does he want to see the pain it’ll cause you? Or does he think it’ll come out venomous?
When you look at him, you sigh, “Because I’m not really a comforting person to you, am I?”
He doesn’t answer your question, “Where are they?”
“They’re on the beach.” You tell him. “I figured out a plan that’ll work. I’ll tell you guys when you’re ready.”
“Do Johanna and Peeta know?” He asks.
You shake your head, “No.”
Neither of you move, staring at each other. And while you could stay here forever, you don’t allow yourself. You push on your knees, standing up. You offer your hand to him, but he moves it away, just like you figured he would.
He doesn’t say anything, walking past you to leave. You stare at the scene of dead birds in front of you, before you turn around, collecting yours and Johanna’s belongings, and going to join them on the beach.
Katniss seems better, she’s talking to Peeta. Johanna is standing over them, she glances at Finnick when he passes by. She has to twist her body to see you standing in the treeline. You hand her the axe.
“It was a trick, Katniss. A horrible one. But we’re the only ones who can be hurt by it. We’re the ones in the Games. Not them.” Peeta says.
“You really believe that?” Katniss asks.
“I really do.”
“Do you believe it, Finnick?”
“It could be true. I don’t know.” He says, looking up at Johanna, ignoring you entirely. “Could they do that? Take someone’s regular voice and make it…”
Johanna makes a face, looking at you for help. You play with the piece of wire you’d unraveled, “I’m sure Beetee would know.”
“Peeta’s right.” Johanna then says. “The whole country adores Katniss’s little sister. If they really killed her like this, they’d probably have an uprising on her hands.” She deadpans. “Don’t want that, do they?” She scoffs, throwing her head back to shout, “Whole country in rebellion? Wouldn’t want anything like that!”
She shakes her head, wandering around the beach to pick up shells. When she finds a good few, she stops next to Finnick, holding her hand out. “I’m getting water.” Finnick drops the spile into her hand, and she begins toward the jungle.
Katniss grabs her hand. “Don’t go in there. The birds—”
“They can’t hurt me. I’m not like the rest of you. There’s no one left I love.” She says, shaking her hand free. You don’t miss the look she gives Finnick, and then you, as she disappears into the jungle.
She comes back a couple minutes later with a shell of water, handing it over to Katniss first. She makes trips back and forth, letting each of you have some. She comes out one trip with a pile of arrows that she gives back to Katniss.
Finnick shakes his head, walking to the water. He stops a few feet in, and sits. You let the wire drop to the sand, tired of bringing it wherever you go. You don’t move from where you are, eyes fixated on his back.
“Who did they use against Finnick?” Peeta asks, curious.
Katniss is quiet. You’re expecting her to say Annie, because it makes the most sense, but when you look over, she’s eyeing you, and so is Peeta.
“What?” You ask. “Was it Annie?”
“No, it wasn’t.” Katniss murmurs. “We thought we heard you.”
A loud laugh comes from you, unwarranted. The thought of Finnick caring about you enough for the Gamemakers to use you against him is funny. Really funny, actually. It must’ve been a walk in the park for him, listening to your pleas. A little gratifying, because he could pretend that you were getting what was coming for you.
But Katniss isn’t laughing, she’s serious.
The humor leaves your smile, “It must’ve been his mother, that he was mistaken for me.”
“No, because we heard his mom, too. That first scream was yours.” She insists, “And he dropped everything to find you.”
“Finnick would never do that.” You tell her, voice cold.
She doesn’t press it further, but the look in her eye is enough. She’s not lying to you, she’s telling the truth. She doesn’t gain anything from making something like that up.
You won’t believe it though. This is the same Finnick that told Johanna that he didn’t trust you, an hour and a half ago. There’s nothing that could’ve made him change his feelings in that time span.
Unless it didn’t.
Your eyes narrow at the back of Finnick’s head, hand tightening around your sword.
A cannon blast keeps you from thinking about the subject any further, but the bubbling in your stomach is only getting hotter. Finnick gets up, coming to join you three, as well as Johanna, materializing out of the jungle. You stand together, watching a hovercraft appear over the next section, claw dipping in several times to retrieve all the pieces of one body.
The beast.
This sparks Peeta to create another map, this time he’s able to fill in more than half of it. It starts with lightning, rain, and fog. It moves on to monkeys and jabberjays. He has to skip a section, and then writes beast. And the next one you have after six to seven is the wave at ten. This means you’re missing five of the other hours.
The others begin to come back to life. Finnick begins to weave a water basket and a net to fish for dinner. While Katniss takes a swim and applies more ointment. By the time she’s done, Finnick has worked up a pile, so she sits on the edge of the water, cleaning them for him.
It doesn’t take long for Katniss’s words to creep back into your mind, refusing to leave it be. Finnick cares about you, a thought that should have you excited, but it makes you uncomfortable. He has spent the last eight years making sure that you know that he hates you and couldn’t care less about what happens to you.
Yet here he is, supposedly dropping everything to save you. Possibly even leaving Katniss behind to do it. The Gamemakers must know something that you don’t, if they knew to use your voice. You want to assume that they thought Finnick was worried solely because you’re his district partner. Except, that doesn’t make sense either, because the two of you are notorious in the Capitol for being a pair of mentors that get into fights about how to handle things.
He has a lot of nerve.
The sun falls below the horizon, the moon rising to replace it in the sky. When they finish cleaning the fish, they bring it over, setting it in the middle of the circle for you to enjoy. The four of them begin to settle in the sand, you don’t move from where you stand.
The anthem begins to play, stopping them from digging in. The Capitol seal lights up the sky, and then it’s replaced by the faces. Cashmere, Gloss, Wiress, Beetee. The woman from Five, the morphling from Six, Blight, and the man from Ten.
Eight tributes dead.
Strangely, this makes you think of your own Hunger Games. Where you managed to kill four people in the span of two hours, one of those being Rio, who was your district partner. By the end of the Games, you had eight kills under your belt. A third of the competition was taken out by you, a little fifteen year-old.
Once again, a factor that used to make Finnick sick. And now it doesn’t.
“They’re really burning through us.” Johanna says.
“Who’s left? Besides us five and District Two?” Finnick asks.
“Chaff.” Peeta says without missing a beat.
The sound of clinking fills the air, you look up to find a parachute coming down, teetering from side to side. It lands perfectly in the middle of the group, unfolding itself to reveal the steaming rolls.
“Do these look like District Three to you?” Finnick looks at Johanna.
“Yeah, look at the imprint.” She says, running her finger over the top of one. “How many are there?”
Finnick counts them, being sure to be thorough. “Twenty-four. How should we divide them?”
“Let’s each have three, and whoever is still alive at breakfast can take a vote on the rest.” Johanna says, causing Katniss to laugh.
You pull your sword out of the sand, swinging it up to rest the flat part of the blade on your shoulder. Finnick looks up at you, eyeing your stance. You step away from them, shaking your head.
“Sit down, (Y/n).” Finnick tells you.
“Why, so you can keep an eye on me?” You snap, crossing the treeline. “Come and get me, Finnick.”
You make it a few feet in, before you hear the snapping of branches behind you. You sigh, turning with raised eyebrows to see that Finnick took it as a challenge. You didn’t mean it that way. You didn’t want him to chase you.
“Get out here.” He tells you.
You walk backward, tilting your head at him. “I’m just making sure Enobaria and Brutus aren’t out here.”
“I don’t care.” He’s still walking toward you. “We’ll worry about that when we make camp.”
You stop, letting your sword down from your shoulder. When you look past him, you can see that there’s enough distance between him and the beach. There’s privacy to talk and sort out what you heard.
Your eyes land on him, “Katniss told me something,” You start, watching his eyebrows twitch, “About how you thought I was the one screaming for help.”
Finnick shakes his head, “I thought it was my mom.”
“Yeah, that’s what I said too.” You tell him, “But you said my name, and you dropped everything to go and get me.”
He sets his jaw, “So?”
“So,” The word is bitter, “What changed?”
He laughs, “Nothing, (Y/n). I went—”
“They used loved ones and family.” You cut him off. “You care about me, admit it.”
“I don’t.” He tells you. “I never have, and I never will.”
“You chased after the jabberjays thinking it was me, and you followed me in here because you’re worried that I’ll get caught by the Careers, admit it.”
“I don’t know what you think is happening, but whatever it is, it’s not true.” His voice wavers.
This is all the confirmation you need. “You want to know what I’m thinking right now?” You press your pointer finger to the middle of his chest. “That you’re not bothered by me anymore, and you haven’t been for a while. You’ve done a damn good job of hiding it up until now, but the jabberjays got you good.”
Finnick grabs your wrist, “That’s not true.”
“What changed, Finnick?” You insist.
“Nothing, because I don’t have feelings for you.” He snaps. “The reason why I came in here is because we want to move camp to the ten sector once the wave happens, I just didn’t want you to get lost out here and think we abandoned you, making you think it’s a free-for-all.”
He lets go of your wrist, face screwed tightly, as he leaves you here. You watch him go back to the beach, while you take several breaths, feeling the pit in your stomach grow.
What have you done?
---
this is part of my 3k celebration!!
#ilguna#finnick odair#finnick odair imagine#finnick odair fanfic#finnick odair oneshot#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair x you#finnick odair x yn#finnick odair x y/n#finnick imagine#finnick oneshot#finnick fanfic#finnick x reader#finnick x you#finnick x yn#finnick x y/n#thg#the hunger games#3k celebration#anon#ask#requested#angst
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☼ lovestruck, lovesick, lovelorn pt2 (Finnick Odair) ☼
summary; Finnick has a hard time keeping up his façade, especially since you know that what he told you was a bunch of bullshit. he's not able to confirm it until weeks later, when you've healed from the capitol abuse.
warnings; swearing, death mention, death, gore for sure, blood, weapon usage, mention of prostitution, needle mention, strangulation, abuse.
wc; 6.5k
part one.
--
“Sponsor gift.” Johanna interrupts the silence.
You look over from where you’re standing the water, finding the silver parachute slowly making its way down to the beach. It seems that Katniss has finally woken up, as well. She’s leaning forward on her crossed legs, rubbing one of her eyes.
Johanna catches the gift in her palms, the parachute falls away to reveal that there’s another pyramid of rolls. It looks identical to the batch you’d received last night, which is confirmed by Finnick after he meticulously counts each one, and tells them that there’s twenty-four of them.
They begin to divide the bread, you turn away, not wanting to be included. You would eat, if it meant that you didn’t have to sit in a group with them. Namely Finnick, who’s kept a close eye on you since last night. Especially since you refused to lay down with the others, choosing to pace the treeline.
You would’ve offered to take Peeta’s spot behind Finnick to take watch, but you’re not really interested in being in close proximity with Finnick. It’s partly the embarrassment, and there’s also the fact that he was lying to you. You saw the look on his face, you heard it in his voice. He fed you bullshit.
And now he must be waiting for you to make your escape. It’s not going to happen, though. You made a commitment, you have a plan, and you have the full intention to execute it tonight. After all, it’s the third day. All you have to do is make it fourteen more hours, and you’ll be free of this arena.
“(Y/n), do you want your bread?” Johanna asks.
“No, I’m fine.” You tell her without moving.
They spend the next few minutes eating, before Katniss takes Peeta into the water to teach him how to swim. You back away, heading to lurk along the treeline of the jungle again. It’s close to where Johanna and Finnick are, as they try to stay occupied. Johanna’s keeping her eyes on the two in the water to ensure that they’re not getting up to no good, while Finnick begins to weave himself another net.
“You said you had a plan last night.” Johanna says, looking over her shoulder at you. “Are you ever going to let us in on it?”
“The Careers are probably watching our every move, waiting for the right moment to attack.” You tell them, a conclusion they’ve likely already come to, themselves. “They won’t do it until we’ve split up.”
Finnicks hands have paused, waiting for you to suggest that you should go off alone to attack them.
“They’re outnumbered if we stay together.” Johanna says.
“Right.” You say, “We all know Katniss, though. She’s not going to want to be in this alliance much longer. She’ll probably stay until the Careers are dead, because that just leaves us.”
Johanna’s nodding, following along.
“I say that we kill them tonight, at midnight.” You stab the sword into the grass, leaving it there when it sticks. You move to stand in front of them in the sand, hands on your hips. “And we do it Beetee-style. We can electrocute them on the beach, assuming that they come out here to refresh when we go into the jungle for the night.”
“How?” Finnick asks, you look him over.
“The sun goes down, making it slightly cooler. The wave will hit at ten, making the beach wet. All we’ll have to do is wrap the wire around the lightning tree, and get two people to walk the wire down to the beach to bury the spool before the lightning hits.” You hold up two fingers, “This causes the group to split two to three, and by then, Enobaria and Brutus will be on us like flies to honey. And that’s when I’ll split away to kill them before they can do any real damage.”
“So, really, whoever has the wire will act as bait?” Johanna asks, face twisted. “And what makes you think you can take out two Careers?”
You half-shrug, “Because I’ve done it before. If you got any better ideas, I’m all ears.”
She shakes her head, “I don’t. It sounds like it’ll work out fine.”
When you both turn your attention to Finnick, you find that he’s nodding, eyes on the sand.
“Well, if we’re in agreement, then we can tell those two,” You jerk your head towards the water, “Later. We can’t do anything until the wave hits, anyway.”
When neither of them say anything else, you go back to where your sword is, pulling it out of the mushy dirt. There’s a deep slice from where you’d stabbed it. As you’re about to wander away, Johanna says something about her going back to sleep in the meantime, since she didn’t get much sleep last night.
Finnick continues weaving his net out of the jungle vines. You watch his progress between glances each time you turn to move the other way. You could probably just stand here, staring into the jungle, but you said so yourself last night—the Careers aren’t going to attack until nightfall, when they’ve got cover.
However, there’s always a chance that you’re wrong, and they decide that they’d rather take the five of you head-on. This is why you refuse to rest. If they get the jump on you, you won’t be able to keep yourself together any longer. You’ll chase after them, and they’ll end up dead before midnight.
“Hey, Finnick, come on in!” Katniss suddenly calls. You pause long enough to see her waving. “We figured out how to make you pretty again!”
Finnick ties off the net, which looks like it’s pretty much done, anyway. He leaves his trident behind, going over to see what they mean. From what you can tell, they’re taking handfuls of wet sand to rub against the scabs that are peeling from their skin. You would need to do the same, if you hadn’t been picking at them all last night.
When they’re done, they come out of the water to apply another round of ointment. Katniss offers the tube to you, which you take gratefully. After a small squeeze on your hand, you rub it along the places where you’ve been affected. For the most part, you were able to say ahead of the fog, even when you were helping Finnick carry Peeta.
“I’ve come up with a plan.” You tell Katniss and Peeta once they’ve settled in the sand. “I already told Finnick and Johanna about it while you were in the water.”
Katniss places the bow in her lap, fingers pinching the string. “And they liked it?”
“Enough.” You say. “There’s only two threats left in the arena, and that’s Enobaria and Brutus. So, we need to take them out. Except, we can’t hunt them down because they could be anywhere, and it’d take all day.”
“Do you think they’ve figured out the clock?” Katniss asks.
“If they haven’t, they will soon.” Finnick says.
“I want to set a trap tonight.” You dig the toes of your left shoe into the sand. “Enobaria and Brutus won’t attack again until it’s dark out and they have cover, that’s a fact. Which means they’re not going to come out here, onto the beach, until they’re sure we’re done.”
“You want to stay in the jungle tonight?” Peeta asks, “That’s dangerous, how will we know what sections we’re in?”
“That’s not what I’m saying.” You shake your head. “What I want to do is kill them when they step foot on the beach. And the only way to do that is with this wire.” You point at it.
Katniss’s face twists.
“The wave hits at ten, making the surrounding beach damp. If we connect this wire to the lightning tree and bring it all the way down to the beach—or even into the water—that first strike will electrocute anything in contact with the sand. It’ll kill them.”
It’s quiet between the four of you, as they mull this over. You can see that Finnick is looking at you, but you keep your eyes on the Twelve tributes. They need to agree to this plan, in order for you to move on and worry about greater things. Like how you’re going to take down Enobaria and Brutus at the same time. Or if you’ll be able to split them up, too.
Peeta’s mouth pops when he opens it to speak. “How do we know that the wire won’t just burn up when the electricity passes through it.”
“It likely will.” You say, “We probably only have one shot at this.”
“So there’s a possibility that we won’t even get them?”
Finnick sighs, “Yeah.”
“But all the seafood will be cooked.” Peeta says.
You nod, “It will, but we found other things in the jungle.”
“Nuts and rats.” Katniss says, you think you’ve got her on board. “And we have sponsors.”
“It’ll be a pain if we fail.” You tell them, “There’s always other options, after this.”
Katniss meets your eyes. “Why not? If it does fail, there’s no harm done. If it works, there’s a decent chance we’ll kill them. And even if we don’t and just kill the seafood, Brutus and Enobaria lose it as a food source, too.”
“I say we try it.” Peeta agrees.
When you’ve lost the attention of the Twelve tributes, you look at Finnick, giving him a smug look. You told him that you’d figure out a plan, and it’s not half-bad either. You’re sure Beetee would’ve said the exact same thing, just with more technical nonsense. You make a pretty good filler, if you say so yourself.
“What should we do until then?” Peeta asks.
“We could take a hike up to the tree to get a look at it.” You suggest, but you’re thinking about surveying the area on the way up. The better you know the jungle, the more you’ll be able to sneak around in it.
“I’ll get Johanna up.” Finnick says.
You back off, Katniss and Peeta gather their belongings, getting on their feet. Finnick catches Johanna up to speed, telling her that the plan is on, and you want to go take a look at the tree. She sighs, getting up from where she was laying.
You pick the wire out of the sand, throwing it over your shoulder to hold while you walk. You move over a couple sections, and Johanna makes the way into the jungle first. You follow after her, not wanting to have a debate with Finnick on whether or not you’re allowed to be behind them.
The air is thicker in the jungle than it is on the beach. It must have something to do with the vegetation, or possibly a hidden water source, making it humid. Between the incline and the heat, you’re sweating in a matter of minutes. Even though all you’re wearing is the undershirt and shorts that were provided with the wetsuit that you abandoned yesterday.
You focus on your breathing, and the steps you’re taking to keep from tripping. Not the fact that Finnick is close enough for you to hear his breathing. You wish he would stay a few steps back, so you can pretend that he’s not there entirely.
As if he’s reading your thoughts, he says, “Can you walk faster?”
“Maybe you should be in front of me if you don’t like my pace.” You snap.
“That’s not happening.”
“Then shut up and deal with it. And stop walking so close, while you’re at it.”
He makes a noise, “There’s three feet between us, that’s plenty.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you think so.” You mutter.
He must hear you, because he doesn’t walk for a couple of seconds, letting the distance grow. You laugh, unbelievable. This is why you don’t believe what he said to you last night. He can deny what you said as much as he wants, but a part of it has to be true.
However, the more he denies it, the more you feel yourself slipping. Why do you like him in the first place?
“Katniss should take the lead, Johanna. She can hear the forcefield.” Finnick calls from behind you.
Johanna pauses, turning around for you to see her. There’s a bead of sweat running down the side of her face. “Hear it?”
“Only with the ear the Capitol reconstructed.” Katniss says below.
“Go ahead, then. I’d rather you get electrocuted to death than me.” She motions.
Katniss passes the line, taking the front. When you glance behind you to see who’s taking up the rear, you see that Finnick and Peeta have switched places. Which makes sense, but you still shake your head.
Katniss brings you to the towering lightning tree, making you wait a few feet back while she gathers nuts to throw ahead to see how far away the forcefield is. She tosses a few of them, and you know when she’s found the field when it sizzles on impact, jumping at her.
“Just stay below the lightning tree.” Katniss tells you.
With it being only nine—almost ten—it’s quickly decided that you’ll stay here for the next hour or so. They divide responsibilities between each other, leaving you out so you can figure out the tree and how the plan will work. Naturally, they stick Finnick with you, while Johanna taps for water, Peeta gathers nuts and Katniss goes hunting for the tree rats.
You go back and forth, looking at the tree, guessing how far around it is, and then looking at the wire, thinking about how much you’ll have to use. There’s easily miles of the wire wrapped around the base, so you’re not worried about running out of it. It’s how thick you need to make it on the tree.
You make a noise, biting the inside of your cheek. This is where Betee would come in handy. You can make a plan, but executing it correctly is a different subject. Either way, you need to make this work.
“You can’t figure it out.” Finnick says, it’s not a question.
“I’m thinking about how much wire I need to use.” You eye him, “It’s figured out.”
And if it isn’t, it will be by tonight, you think.
The ground begins to shake beneath you, as the sound of the wave crashing through trees fills the momentary silence. You have an hour and a half before you need to get back down to the beach in order not to get caught here in a lightning storm.
Katniss comes crunching out of the trees, holding three of the rats in one hand, the bow in the other. She stops next to Peeta, dropping the animals next to him, and then draws a line in the dirt a few feet away from the forcefield.
She cleans the kills, cubing the meat, and roasting them by tossing them at the forcefield. She catches each one in a free basket that was made by Finnick yesterday. Peeta follows her movements with the nuts, dropping it in the same bowl as her.
“Figure it out?” Johanna asks you, setting the water on the ground behind Katniss. She holds the spile out between her fingers in Katniss’s direction.
Katniss reaches up to take it, and secures it on the vine attached to her belt.
“Pretty much.”
By the time Katniss and Peeta are done, the next hour is up. You know this when the clicking in the section over rises. You heard some of it last night, but it wasn’t very loud because you were on the beach. Here, it sounds so close.
“I think it’s an insect.” Katniss says. “Maybe beetles.”
“Something with pincers.” Finnick adds.
The sound swells in reaction to their voices.
“We should get out of here, anyway.” Johanna says. “There’s less than an hour before the lightning starts.”
At that, the food and water are gathered, as well as weapons. You don’t go very far, only to the rain wedge next door. The food and water is placed on the ground, where you squat around the bowls to pick out what you want. This is when you finally eat, because it looks fairly appetizing. Still, you don’t take much from the pool, only enough to be full.
When you’re done, you make your way back down to the beach until nightfall. The sand is smooth from the water, sinking under your weight, leaving footprints behind.
Johanna offers to take watch to allow the rest of you to sleep if you want to. They take her up on the offer, but you sit up, fingers laced in front of you. None of them nap for very long, because they’d gotten a fair amount of sleep last night. The only person it would benefit at this point is you, except you haven’t been tired since yesterday afternoon.
Well, that’s what you think until Finnick switches off with her. He lowers himself next to you, back to the water, eyes on the jungle. He’s less than a foot away from you, off to your left. For someone that doesn’t like you, he really sticks close, doesn’t he?
“I’m going to sleep.” You mutter, getting to your feet.
You find a nice place in the sand that’s covered by a tree in the jungle. It’s not easy settling in, you think that you’d rather fight with a rock-hard bed, but you don’t really have a choice. You close your eyes, forcing yourself to take even breaths to relax, feeling the drowsiness creep up on you.
–
The heel of your shoe is kicked, jolting you awake. You grab the knife that you’d placed next to you, rolling over to see who it is. It’s Finnick, he’s holding his trident in one of his hands.
“We’re about to clean the seafood, come join us.”
You squint at him, wondering if you should strangle him for waking you up like this. It wouldn’t be that hard to, and you’d likely get over him quicker. And you would probably do it, too, if it weren’t for your allies a few feet over, talking.
“Sure.” You say, he walks away, going to resume his place in the circle. You sit up, heels of your hands massaging your temples. You should’ve just stayed awake, now all you are is tired and irritated.
You scoot over, finding a place between Johanna and Finnick. You look over all of what they’ve collected, which is fish, shellfish and oysters. You sigh through your nose, reaching forward to grab a fish, as you begin to slice into it with your knife. It takes you about two minutes to successfully clean it, tossing it in the next basket.
Peeta pries open an oyster, laughing slightly. “Hey, look at this!” He exclaims. You look up from your next fish to see that he’s holding up a pearl. “You know, if you put enough pressure on coal it turns to pearls.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Finnick says. Katniss laughs.
Peeta rinses the pearl off in the water, handing it to her. “For you.”
“Thanks.” She says, closing her hand.
You toss another fish in the basket, Johanna gives you a look. “No wonder why Finnick woke you up, you’re faster than he is.”
Finnick gives Johanna a glare, “That’s not true.”
“I don’t want to make this a competition.” You tell both of them. “I’m not in the mood.”
“I can see that.” Johanna says, “Bad dreams?”
“I just want to get the fuck out of here.” You make a clean cut through the fish, looking at her.
She sighs, “Don’t we all?”
“The locket didn’t work, did it?” Peeta asks. “Katniss?”
“It worked.” She says.
“But not the way I wanted.” He says, looking away from her. That’s the last thing you hear from him for the next fifteen minutes.
With your help, they finish preparing the food pretty quickly. They give the seafood a final wash to get rid of any of the sand, and right as you’re about to eat, a parachute comes down from the sky, landing next to Finnick. The first one is a pot of red sauce, the second one being another set of District Three rolls. When counted, the number turns out to be the same as it’s been the last couple of times.
You take a strip of the fish, dipping it into the red sauce, and then dropping it into your mouth. The moment your tongue realizes that it’s tasting more than just raw fish, your mouth begins to water. It’s spicy, and so good. You hum, giving the others an approving nod.
The five of you begin to eat, actually enjoying the meal. While they gorge themselves, you take it slow, not wanting to be too full for when you fight the Careers. It’ll slow you down. When they’re done, there’s still a lot of leftovers, but you’re not able to keep them. They toss the food back into the water, so that when you leave, the Careers won’t be able to have it.
Katniss and Peeta go to sit by the water together, holding hands. You, Finnick and Johanna stay where you are, passing around the water shell. There’s still a couple of hours until the wave, you could probably an hour or so in, but if you try to get any more sleep today, you won’t get up the next time they try to wake you.
The anthem plays, no faces show up in the sky. The sun has officially set, and you can’t sit still any longer. You get to your feet, sword in your hand while you go back to pacing the treeline.
When Katniss and Finnick agree that it’s about nine, you move on from the beach, taking only what’s necessary. Katniss leads the way this time, Peeta in front of you, with Finnick and Johanna at the very end. This time, Finnick leaves a safe distance between the two of you, learning from his mistake.
When you get to the tree, Finnick is assigned to help you. And before you can object and ask for Johanna, they’re already walking away to find their places to watch the trees. You stick your sword in the ground, and then crouch down to begin unrolling the wire. You set several yards aside, making Finnick wrap some of it around a broken tree branch, which you leave aside.
After that, you and Finnick stand on opposite sides of the lightning tree, passing the spool back and forth. You form an X, watching as it grows thicker, before you begin to wrap it around the middle. This goes on for about an hour, until you hear the wave begin. You wait for a while longer, and decide to stop once it’s thick enough.
When Finnick hands the wire back to you, you clear your throat. “The wire needs to be brought back down to the water.” The three taking watch turn to look at you, waiting. “Katniss and Johanna will do it.”
“I want to go with them as a guard.” Peeta says immediately.
“You don’t move fast enough.” You tell him. “Which is a result of you hitting the forcefield and your prosthetic leg. You’ll stay here with me and Finnick. Katniss can guard, because she’s got her bow.” Peeta’s shaking his head. “We don’t have time to argue, they need to leave, now.”
“It’s okay.” Katniss says after a moment. “We’ll just drop the coil and come straight back up.”
“Not here, we’ll meet you two in the next section over.” You remind her.
She cups Peeta’s face. “Don’t worry. I’ll see you at midnight.” She kisses him, you avert your eyes, and land on Finnick, who’s staring. You squint at him. Katniss moves away, “Ready?”
“Why not?” Johanna shrugs, coming over to take the wire from you. “You guard, I’ll unwind. We can trade off later.”
Katniss walks off first, with Johanna following. You keep a careful eye on the sliver of wire that hangs through the air as they go down. If you try to pass through that area, you need to be mindful that it’s there.
You grab your sword out of the ground, while Finnick divides the area into three sections for you to stand in. You’ll give it about fifteen minutes before you take off with some sort of excuse, because there’s not a single doubt in your mind that the Careers are out here right now.
Over the fifteen minute period, you shift your weight from foot to foot, trying to make it seem like you have to use the bathroom, restlessly moving around. You let out a loud sigh, “I’m sorry, I have to pee. I’ll be right back.”
“That’s not a good idea.” Peeta tells you, “Finnick should go with.”
“He’s not standing over me while I pee, and you’re not either. I’ll stay within earshot.” You say, looking at Finnick. You raise your eyebrows, Finnick gives you a slight nod. He better keep Peeta distracted enough to the point where he doesn’t realize how long you’ve been gone.
You duck under the wire, heading into the trees with your sword. You walk a few feet, occasionally glancing behind you to make sure that neither of them are looking, before you make your escape. The wire is close enough for you to see it, still suspended in the air.
You move quickly down the slope without having to wait on anyone, searching the area ahead for anyone. Katniss and Johanna have got to be more than halfway down by now, it’s going to take you a minute to catch up with them. But if Enobaria and Brutus are smart, they won’t stick that close, because Katniss is paranoid.
The sound of rocks rolling on one another makes you stop behind the tree you’re passing by. It came from the left, from the other side. You lower yourself to the ground, peering around the trunk and through bush leaves to see if it’s them.
You find Enobaria creeping out of her hiding place, knife in hand, blade glinting in the moonlight. With a swift motion, she cuts the wire, sending both ends in different directions. She chases after the end going down to Katniss and Johanna, and that’s when you can see Brutus, following after her.
He’s limping. This will be easy.
You stalk them, trying to be quiet. The wire is gone, completely out of sight. It’s probably already bunched up at the bottom. Which means that they know that something—someone—has come between them and the lightning tree. And vice versa for the top of the hill, where Peeta and Finnick are going to realize that the girls are in some danger.
You were wrong about how far down Katniss and Johanna were, because you come across the coil of wire a minute later. Katniss is laying on the ground, eyes shut, forearm cut where the tracker should be.
“She’s as good as dead! Come on, Enobaria!” You hear someone shout.
Your head whips in the direction, forgetting about Katniss. She’ll pick herself up soon, and if she doesn’t, someone will come for her. You pick up the pace to follow after the heavy footsteps. They have to be targeting Johanna, because she’s nowhere to be seen in the area. She’s drawing them away, taking the focus off of the girl who scored a twelve.
You see Brutus moving through the trees, trying to keep up. You switch the sword into your non-dominant hand, grabbing out a knife. You draw your arm back, and with every ounce of strength you have, you send the knife flying at Brutus.
It hits the back of his head, a cannon blasts immediately, his body falling into the greenery. If it wasn’t a frenzy before, it will be now that someone has died.
Enobaria, who was a few feet ahead of him, stops in her tracks, turning to look at you. You walk toward her, a smile spreading over your face. “Hi.”
“You’ll regret that.” She snarls, throwing a knife at you.
You see this coming, twisting just in time for it to miss you. She charges forward, you switch the sword into your dominant hand, swinging at her. She blocks, blade clashing against yours, the sound of metal sliding on itself fills the air.
“Stupid plan you made.” She says between breaths, baring her teeth.
“You fell for it.” You grin, sweeping her legs.
She falls, you stab down at her, she rolls out of the way. She doesn’t have time to stand up, you’re swinging at her, getting closer each time.
“(Y/n)!” A voice calls, you halt, just for a second, eyebrows twitching in.
Finnick.
“Playing house?” Enobaria sneers, right before she swings at your hand.
You drop the sword, but still get cut across the back of your hand, up to your wrist. The blood begins to leak out, making your skin slippery. You hiss, reaching for your knife when Enobaria gets to her feet, coming for you.
She gets you several times across your body, you’re off beat by a second. You’re not thinking about the fight anymore. Your mind is on Finnick, who’s supposed to be watching Peeta at the lightning tree, but instead he’s out here, looking for you.
He knew the plan, he knew you’d go after the Careers, that was the whole point of splitting up. The sooner you get rid of them, the better. There won’t be a threat in the arena anymore. You’ll be able to cut out the trackers in your arm freely and wait for the rebels to get you. You could even let Katniss and Peeta in on it, because by then it’ll be too late for the Capitol to intervene.
Enobaria steps too close, snapping you out of your thoughts. You grab her shoulder, holding her in place while you slam the knife upward, into her stomach. You stare at her, watching as her mouth drops open, struggling to take a breath in.
“How the mighty fall.” You murmur.
Her eyes meet yours, “Go fuck yourself.” She wheezes. “You’re next.”
“We’ll see about that.” You tell her, pushing her back.
She stumbles a few steps, you drop low to pick your sword out of the grass. She’s shaking her head, a plea forming on her lips, when she jerks forward, and she falls to her knees.
Johanna stands on the other side, her axe now embedded in the back of Enobaria’s skull. She gives you a little smile, “You killed Brutus?”
“It was easy.” You tell her. “We should get back to the tree. The lightnings going to strike any minute now, the beetles are getting quieter.”
Johanna nods, you begin to lead the way, climbing as fast as you can. It’s difficult with the cuts that Enobaria managed to land. They’re in the most inconvenient places, as if she was doing it on purpose. Maybe she thought you’d run, and this way she’d slow you down.
“Katniss!” You hear a voice call, it sounds like Peeta. He’s not supposed to be out here, Finnick should’ve had him on a leash. “Katniss!”
“Is Chaff still alive?” You pant, “There’s only been two cannons, right?”
“Yeah, he should be.” Johanna says.
You’re just nearing the top, the clicking is practically nonexistent, until it suddenly swells. Your eyes pan down, afraid that you’ve stepped into the wrong territory, but there’s nothing on the ground. That’s when a scream erupts from your left, drawing out for a minute.
And then a cannon goes off, there goes Chaff.
You turn, wanting to make sure that Johanna’s still following. She’s leaned over her knees, breathing deeply.
“Katniss!” Peeta’s voice is close. You look up, and barely find him through the trees. He must see you, too, because he starts to come down. His eyes are bouncing between you and Johanna. “Where is she?”
“I don’t know.” You shake your head. “Is she at the tree? And where’s Finnick?”
“Johanna?” Peeta insists, ignoring you.
“The Careers split us up.” She lies, “I had to draw them away.”
“Is that who died?” He asks.
“Brutus, Enobaria and Chaff were the cannons.” You tell him. “Let’s get back to the tree to regroup.”
He nods, Johanna stands up. The three of you are beginning up the slope once more, when the dome of the arena bursts into a blue light. You watch as the first fiery explosion breaks it, throwing bits of debris into the air.
“Shit.” You say, “That’s not good.”
The hike up the jungle is torturous enough in the heat that’s provided by the Gamemakers. It grows worse when the trees surrounding you are suddenly set afire by the bits that land on the ground, causing small earthquakes. Several times, you have to hang on to a tree to keep from falling over, as the dome falls apart.
You keep an eye on the growing hole, and the sky beyond it, waiting. You watch as the hovercraft materializes out of thin air, above the lightning tree. A second later, the claw is being dropped to retrieve those who are by it. You’re hoping it’s Katniss, because that was the whole goal of this plan. Anyone else was just an added bonus.
It secures around someone, and pulls them out of the trees. You’re not that far, you might even be able to make it. The claw drops a second time, for one more person, pulling them up. It’s hard to see the hovercraft through the thick branches and leaves.
You’ve about five yards from the lightning tree when the hovercraft disappears in the air. Your pace slows, as you let out a breath. When you look at Johanna, you find her shaking her head.
“There goes being saved.”
“What?” Peeta asks, looking between you two.
“I’m sorry, Peeta.” You say, locking your fingers and placing your hands on the top of your head. “The good news is that you got what you wanted.”
“What do you mean?” He asks.
“She’s safe.” Is all you say.
You don’t bother telling him that the three of you are screwed. While Katniss and presumably Finnick, get to go to District Thirteen, where they’ll be safe. You’re going to be taken by the Capitol, and there’s not a doubt in your mind that they’ll try to tear you apart to get information about the rebels.
This is where the real test of strength begins.
—
A knock on the window makes you look up from where you’re staring at the IV in your arm. Your eyes land on Finnick, who’s not standing at his full height, playing with a small piece of rope in his hand. There’s a slight frown in his lips, eyes tired. He’s been visiting you these last couple of days, and you’ve been doing your best to avoid him.
Usually, you have a visitor in here, which makes it easy to cast him out, but you’re alone tonight. Johanna’s finally grown tired of bothering you for hours on end, talking your ear off. It’s been a one-sided conversation these past couple of weeks while your throat healed.
Recently, the doctor cleared you.
You stare at Finnick, really not wanting to let him in. He’s no doubt heard the news, too. Which means that he’s looking to actually talk to you. You take a small breath in, chest aching. You rub the area over where the pain is, lifting your other hand to motion Finnick in.
He opens the door slowly, closing it behind him. He doesn’t say anything as he grabs the chair from the corner of the room, dragging it next to your hospital bed. You watch him sit down, elbows on his knees, eyes on the floor.
You thought that since Katniss and Finnick were saved by the rebels, they’d be in better condition than you, Johanna and Peeta are. It seems to be the other way around, though. Despite Snow having you strangled and deprived of oxygen for as long as humanly possible without doing major brain damage, and Johanna being repeatedly electrocuted in water, the two of you are relatively normal. You wish you could say the same for Peeta, but he’s up in the air right now. They won’t even let you see him, although you’re not sure what that would do exactly.
Finnick has been torn apart, like being in District Thirteen is a form of torture, in of itself. The light in his eyes is gone, voice quiet, “Mags told me about the ultimatum that Snow gave you.”
“Huh?” You let out.
Finnick looks up from the tile. “After the jabberjays, you asked me what changed.” He reaches over, placing his hand on top of yours. He’s warm. “It was before that. When Mags told me that you’d agreed…” He trails off, “You’d agreed to be a prostitute if it meant my family lived.”
You try to shake his hand off. “Whatever.”
He grabs on with both hands, squeezing your fingers. “She told me that you would volunteer to take some of my nights in the Capitol, because you saw how tired I was.”
“Get off me.” You murmur.
“My family was in the Capitol and you protected them,” His voice wavers, you get sent back to that night in the jungle. When he denied the fact that he had feelings for you. “Again. You protected them again. You let Snow do this to you.”
“It was the right thing to do.” You shake your head.
“I heard you talking the day of the reaping.” He breathes. “How you told Mags that you wouldn’t let her volunteer because you know how much she means to me. You said that you’d rather risk your life and go back in the arena than put her in danger.”
“Anyone would’ve done that.” You tell him, impatient.
“Annie couldn’t. Librae wasn’t going to. I was sure you weren’t, either.”
You sigh, “Will you just leave me alone?”
“I was wrong about several things.” Finnick stands from the chair, letting go of your hands to reach for your face. His thumbs running over the skin beneath your eyes. “I do care about you.”
“No, you don’t.” You push his arms.
“Listen to me.” Finnick says, his face is so close to yours. You can feel the warmth of his breath tickling your nose. “I was looking for you during the jabberjays, I was looking for you the night the dome went down, and I haven’t been able to breathe since you were taken.” He closes his eyes. “I care.”
“I know.” You breathe, “I know you do.”
#ilguna#finnick odair#finnick odair imagine#finnick odair oneshot#finnick odair fanfic#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair x you#finnick odair x yn#finnick odair x y/n#finnick imagine#finnick fanfic#finnick x reader#finnick oneshot#finnick x you#finnick x yn#finnick x y/n#thg#the hunger games#angst
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Can I get 6 and 23 from list 2 with Finnick please?
☼ sunburst (Finnick Odair) ☼
warnings; swearing, gun use, blood mention, ehh gore.
wc; 2.5k
prompt; 6. "I know, it hurts. I'm so sorry, but we have to get this out." AND 23. "You need to keep your eyes open. Just a little longer."
--
When you were recruited to be a part of the mission to storm the Capitol, you were under the impression that you’d actually be in some danger. You spent weeks training in District Thirteen, thinking that you were going to be running for your life every waking moment. It was supposed to be more like being inside of an arena, than a walk on the bad side of District Four.
Both of which you can handle, for the record.
What you can’t handle is the boredom that comes with being a member of the Star Squad. While you were told you’d be at the front lines with the rest of the rebels, the reality is that you’re stuck days behind them. President Coin is too afraid of putting their precious Mockingjay into danger.
It’s an interesting concept, considering that Katniss has expressed no issue in the past surrounding the idea of putting her life on the line. The first time she did this was when she wanted to get sent to District Eight, an active battlezone, to see the citizens there. The next time was District Two, where a gun was held to her head, and she still proceeded to give a speech, and got shot for it.
You suppose that’s the exact problem, though. She can be a magnet for trouble, whether she intends to be or not. In that case, you’re not sure why they didn’t tell you that you’d be stuck here with a mixed group, beforehand. You might’ve changed your mind and found a different way to help the rebellion.
And it’s not like you haven’t tried to have patience, because you have. It’s been severely run thin by the propo team—a camera crew from the Capitol, their only job being to film videos to slice together to show the districts. Their incessant need to get a shot of absolutely everything that’s going on has got you beyond irritated.
They’re so demanding with it, and all it is is a bunch of bullshit. They want you to walk down the street the right way, looking fierce and in the middle of battle. When in reality, there’s no one for a several mile radius, and all the threats are being given away by the Holo. A device that was made to tell you where the traps, the pods, are.
If you could, you’d tell them that you’re done participating, but you really have no choice. You’ve been seen in so many of their other videos, that it’ll make the districts and the Capitol question why you’re not in the rest. Either they’ll think that you died, or that you’ve decided the rebellion isn’t worth fighting for.
Which isn’t true in the slightest. You just think that it’s morally wrong to be back here, pretending like you’re fighting, when the faceless rebels at the front lines are the ones almost getting killed everyday. You want to be up there, with them.
The rebels ahead don’t set off all the pods, though. They leave the mild ones behind, marking them as such, assuming that the group behind them will take it out when they pass. That group happens to be you.
Sometimes, Boggs, the squad leader, will see a pod on the Holo, so he’ll ask for volunteers to set it off, naturally. You don’t even know what the point of raising your hand is, anymore. He won’t call on you, or Finnick, or Katniss. He keeps his attention on the District Thirteen trained soldiers to do the important tasks.
Despite the fact that you had, once again, spent weeks training to be able to do something like that.
What will happen is that Katniss will pretend to set off the pod with an arrow at a distance, to keep her from getting hurt by accident. While a soldier off to the side will trigger it. This makes the rest of you all duck for cover, afraid of whatever the pod has to offer. And when it’s all said and done, and you’re ready to move on, the next step is to reenact your reactions to defending yourself from whatever threat came out of the pod.
It’s been four days of this, and it’s driving you crazy. You’ll spend a few hours pretending to fight, and then return to camp for the rest of the night, safely out of harm's way. It’s taking everything in you not to ask Boggs to leave to go back to the Nut, where the rest of the rebel soldiers are. Maybe there, you can get reassigned.
The problem would be convincing Finnick to go with you, because he doesn’t mind being in the Star Squad. He thinks it’s great, because that means you’re not in any immediate danger. After what they did to Peeta, the last thing he wants is for the Capitol to potentially get their hands on you, or for you to die.
Neither of which you plan on letting happen.
The only way you’ll be able to get him to leave is if you do it without bringing it up to him first. Cut out the whole conversation on how he’d prefer if you went with Coin’s plan, instead of making your own. He has a way with words, and he knows this. That’s why your resolve can crumble in the matter of fifteen minutes, all because he’s the one reasoning with you.
That’s what you’ll do tonight then; you’ll go talk to Boggs.
The Holo begins to beep loudly, warning your squad that you’re coming close to a pod. Boggs slows his pace, opening it up to take a look. When he comes to a full stop, so do you.
A sigh escapes you, Finnick glances over, watching as you turn around to take a few steps away. This is the fourth pod that you’ve come across today, meaning that Boggs will probably call it a day after this. Even though you’ve covered more distance today than you have the past three.
“The Holo says it’s going to be a swarm of muttation gnats.” Boggs says, “Who wants to hit it?”
You turn to face the squad, watching as almost every hand flies up, with the exception of you, Finnick and Katniss. Even Gale, Katniss’s best friend from Twelve, has his hand raised. You think he’s been tasked once, which is the hope he’s probably holding on to.
Regardless, Boggs motions at one of the Leeg twins. “Leeg, I want you. The rest of you, go find someone to stand in the meantime.”
You cross your arms over your chest, shaking your head. “Predictable.”
“Come on, (Y/n).” Finnick grabs the underside of your arm, pulling you with him to the other side of the street.
The pod is disguised as an electrical box on the side of an orange shop. If it weren’t for the Holo, you wouldn’t have suspected a thing of it, but that’s the whole point. The pods are hidden in plain sight, meant for your eyes to glance over them, so that they can kill you later on.
The best the Capitol can do is gnats?
“Okay, Katniss, we’ll focus on pulling the arrow back, and holding it.” Cressida begins, she’s the one that has the specific propo visions. If this doesn’t go according to her plan, she’ll rework it and have Katniss do it over again until it’s right.
“Just a regular arrow?” Katniss asks, reaching back to grab one.
“No, we’ll have Leeg set off the pod, and then you’ll use an explosive arrow to kill the gnats.” Cressida says, looking at Boggs. He gives her an approving nod.
“What happens when that shot isn’t good enough and we have to start over?” You mutter, Finnick bumps your shoulder.
“I know you’re unhappy, but can we please not make enemies out of the people that could save our lives?” Finnick asks.
You look at Finnick, “I’m not making promises I won’t keep.”
You watch as Cressida gives Katniss directions on where to stand and how to hold her bow. This gives the cameramen, Castor and Pollux, enough time to find their angles, because realistically, there won’t be an opportunity for reshoots. With one of them on Katniss, and the other on the pod, Cressida gives Boggs the go ahead.
“On the count of three, Leeg.” Boggs tells her. Finnick adjusts his footing, prepared to duck if necessary. You don’t move from where you stand, staring dead at the pod. “One, two, three!”
Leeg shoots at the pod, piercing the metal that encases the gnats, leaving bullet holes. The sound of metal on metal screeches through the quiet street, as the door swings open, releasing what’s inside.
A startled scream comes from you as piercing pains hit you all across your body, throwing you back onto the ground. The back of your head slams against the cement of the sidewalk, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut, as the world begins to spin.
“(Y/n)?” Finnick’s voice wavers.
The punctured points in your body begin to deepen, as the shrapnel from the box begins to burrow in your skin. You grunt, writhing, eyes opening suddenly to see it for yourself.
It’s not shrapnel, they’re metal darts, and they've got claws that are digging into your skin.
“No!” Someone cries.
“We need the medic team!” Jackson barks, her voice is clear. “We’ve got two down, Boggs!”
“Copy.” He says.
From what you can tell, you got a brunt of the hit, a consequence of not taking cover like you were instructed to. There’s over a dozen of these, stuck in your body, going deeper as the seconds tick on.
“Get them out.” Your voice is rough, as you reach to grab one. “Get them out of me!”
“(Y/n), honey—” Finnick seizes your hand, keeping you from doing it. “Stop, leave them.”
“They’re in me!” You cry, “They’re going to kill me.”
“We can’t take them out. We learned this, remember? They’re stinting the blood, we have to wait for—”
“No, she’s right.” Katniss is standing at your feet. “Look at them.”
You don’t want to, not when they all move at once, ripping your skin open further. You can see the brief stream of blood in the air, before it’s gone, covered by the dart. It’s not large enough to block the chunk of skin it’s pulled from your body, though, because the blood begins to pool, quickly.
“Shit.” Finnick says.
There’s a girl crying, when you lift your head to see, you find that it’s the other Leeg sister, on her knees, next to the first one. The one that had shot at the pod, now has a dart sticking out of the side of her head. It’s already found her brain.
She’s dead.
You begin to breathe heavier when you realize that this will be your fate, too, if they don’t start to pull them out. Which must be the same conclusion that Finnick comes to, because he rolls back his sleeves, hands hovering over one of them.
You grab the heel of his shoe, knowing that you’ll need something to hold on to. He gives you a look, and you nod quickly, urging him to do it. The second that his hand is around the dart, it begins to wiggle. To keep it from going further, he yanks.
You scream, throwing your head back, body tense, as the entire world goes white. It clings on, refusing to be pulled off in just one attempt.
“Stop!” You tell them, “Stop!”
“Katniss, I need help.” Finnick says.
She drops her bow without question to get to her knees to help him. You watch through blurred tears as she holds the dart while he pries the claws apart. It’s like a thousand needles jabbing into your skin repeatedly, refusing to leave the area alone.
And then they get it free, and the first tear slides down your cheek.
The metal clinks on the ground from Katniss dropping it.
You can’t help the sob that breaks through your lips. This is just the beginning isn’t it?
“Hold on, honey.” He tells you.
“I don’t—”
He begins to pull at this dart, more aggressive than he was the first time. Unprepared, you cry through gritted teeth, squeezing his shoe. He manages to unhook it faster this time, but that means little to you.
Him and Katniss go back and forth, pulling them out of the areas they think will hurt the least. There’s a few times where their hands slip, which causes an indescribable pain.
The pool of blood beneath you is growing. You can feel the puddle reach your fingers on your free hand, coating your skin in red.
“There’s only two left, (Y/n).” Finnick smooths your hair back. “These will hurt the most.”
“Just wait.” You tell him, grabbing onto the bunched sleeve.
“We can’t stop, or it’ll keep digging in.” He tells you. “Breathe, okay?”
“Finnick.” You warn, bracing yourself when he secures his hand around the metal dart, beginning to pull.
The feeling of your guts being yanked from your body, makes the dark spots at the corners of your vision come around quickly. For a moment, you’re gone, drifting off into the peaceful voice, until Finnick’s lifting your head up with one hand.
“You need to keep your eyes open. Just a little longer.” Finnick tells you
“I can’t.” You sniff. “I want to be done.”
“One more.” He tells you, lowering your head back to the ground.
“No.” Your lips tremble.
He grabs the dart, you squeeze your eyes shut. “Please! Please, please, please! It hurts!”
“I know, it hurts.” Finnick says, he doesn’t sound very happy that he has to do this to you. “I’m so sorry, baby, but we have to get this out.”
This one has decided to hold on, taking twice as long as it normally does. For a second, it almost slips out of their hands, when Finnick’s able to pry the claws open.
A faint sense of relief floods through you, but it’s gone when your body begins to tingle. “Finnick.” You whisper. With a shaky hand, you dip your fingers into one of the many wounds that will end up being scars. The exposed raw flesh against your fingers makes you nauseous.
It subsides slightly when you pull your hand out, and find an orange substance mixed with the blood.
Poison.
“No.” Finnick says, looking at Boggs, presumably. “How far out are the medics?”
“They’ll be here any minute.” He says, coming over to see better.
“They need to have an antidote ready.” Finnick’s voice echoes, bouncing back and forth in your head, as he splits into two people, then four…
Your eyes flutter shut.
--
this was part of my 3k celebration!!
#ilguna#finnick odair#finnick odair imagine#finnick odair oneshot#finnick odair fanfic#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair x you#finnick odair x yn#finnick odair x y/n#finnick imagine#finnick fanfic#finnick oneshot#finnick x reader#finnick x you#finnick x y/n#finnick x yn#thg#the hunger games#3k celebration#ask#anon#requested#angst
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☼ NFWMB (Finnick Odair) ☼
summary; nothing can tear the two of you down. they can try, but you're always one step ahead.
warnings; swearing, death, weapon usage, ehh gore, blood mention.
wc; 5.5k
notes; Piano Sessions: songfic, NFWMB by Hozier. not really noticeable, though.
—
“Here she comes.” You murmur to Finnick, he tilts his head back to get a look.
Katniss is coming down from the tree she scaled a few minutes before. She wanted to assess the situation around the Cornucopia, see how many victors have died so far. By the grim look on her face alone, it tells you all about what won’t be said aloud.
Well, not by you, anyway. Finnick doesn’t care about being sensitive. “What’s going on down there, Katniss?” He asks once she’s made contact with the ground. He’s holding his trident out, casually defensive, as if he’s silently telling her that he’ll fight if he has to. “Have they all joined hands? Taken a vow of nonviolence? Tossed the weapons in the sea in defiance of the Capitol?”
His voice is teasing, because he knows exactly the thought process that she must’ve gone through while she was up there, alone. She likely went up the tree, expecting to find some blood in the water, but not much. After all, twenty-four of you had thrown everything you had at the Capitol to convince them not to send you into the arena, and held hands to show unity among the districts, even if it was a second… She must’ve had herself convinced that there wouldn’t be carnage.
With no pressure to appear complaint with an alliance she had no say in, she could work out her real feelings. Weigh the pros and cons of staying together. It’s led her to think that if you would kill the victors you’ve known and worked with for years, what would keep you from killing her and Peeta, too? How could she reasonably agree to stay?
She can’t.
“No.” Katniss says, responding to Finnick’s pointless question.
“No,” He repeats. “Because whatever happened in the past is in the past. And no one in this arena was a victor by chance.” He pauses, eyeing Peeta. “Except maybe Peeta.”
He’s standing off to the side, looking between Katniss and Finnick, trying to decide whether or not they’re getting hostile—if he should intervene. This is exactly what Finnick means, Peeta’s too good to be in here. It’s his kindness that almost got him out the first time.
While the rest of you would selfishly kill to save your own lives if it meant survival, he would risk his life to save everyone. He’s got compassion, a quality that the rest of you lack the moment you step into the Games. The only reason why he got crowned was because Katniss refused to let him die, the rest of you fought and didn’t let anything get in your way, mercilessly.
The silence between the two of them is growing heavy with every passing second. It’s as if they’re playing chess, without making any of the physical moves. They’re going back and forth on deciding who will be the one that could come out a fight alive. Who’s the stronger tribute, what move they should make, if they should be the one to make it first.
You know better than to think that Finnick would make the first move. He knows you can’t afford to lose Katniss’ trust entirely. She’s the key to getting out of this arena alive. She’s the one that holds the rebellion in her hands, whether or not she realizes that. Finnick will only move if she does, and it’ll be in self-defense.
You don’t give her the chance, stepping between them, spinning the spear in your hand until you stab it headfirst into the ground. This is to show her that you’re not looking for a fight. She can hold the power in this situation if she wants to, but you won’t let her attack Finnick. She’ll have to get through you, first.
Katniss’ eyes narrow, unhappy that you’re blocking her real target. She won’t be able to kill you, and you know this. Katniss actually likes you, she even suggested having you as her ally to Haymitch, but changed her mind when she found out that you and Finnick come as a package deal.
You give her a little smile, tilting your head. “Did you see how many are dead?”
“Hard to say.” She tells you, still tense. Her fingers flex around the bow, suddenly deciding to lean on her hip, as if she’s trying to see Finnick around you.
Your chin drops, smile fleeting, eyes boring into hers.
The expression is enough for her to take a step back, catching the message. “At least six, I think. And they’re still fighting.”
With upturned lips, you finally move out of the way, allowing her to see Finnick again.
“Let’s keep moving. We need water.” Peeta says.
His eyes are bouncing between you and Finnick, as if he doesn’t know which one of you to talk to. You pull your spear out of the dirt, holding it in one hand as you cross one arm over your chest and one under.
“Better find some soon,” Finnick says. “We need to be undercover when the others come hunting us tonight.”
Katniss presses her lips together, nodding slowly.
“We’ll have Peeta lead the way, then.” You motion.
Peeta doesn’t argue, fixing the machete in his hand before beginning to cut away at the vegetation the same way he had been before taking the break. Finnick tries to push you up next, but you place your hand on his back, forcing him forward. The previous formation had worked before he had a standoff with Katniss. You need to be at the end, now. For everyone’s sake.
The slope is a nightmare to climb, but at least you’re not running. It’s easier to move at a slower pace, knowing that the Careers are preoccupied with the Cornucopia. You won’t be worrying about them until tonight, when the biggest fight is over, and they begin to search for smaller ones.
It must be a mile before it looks like the end of the tree line, as you reach the crest of the hill. Katniss speaks behind you through heavy breaths. “Maybe we’ll have better luck on the other side. Find a spring or something.”
You hope she’s right, because you’re not going to last very long in this heat if she isn’t. It’ll be a waste of time and energy if you go down into this valley and it’s just more trees. By then, you’ll probably be too delirious to keep searching. It’ll be on the mentors and sponsors to keep you alive.
“Peeta, don’t—!” Katniss suddenly cries out, taking a step around you.
A sharp zapping sound fills the air, a blast of air, and then Peeta’s being flung back, straight into you and Finnick. You hit the ground, arms over your head to keep from cracking it on a rock. There’s a dull ache in your ribcage afterwards, but it’s so menial that you forget about it when you hear Katniss calling for Peeta.
You sit up, finding Finnick already looking at you. He touches the side of your face, rubbing away a clump of dirt. “Are you—?”
“Peeta!” Katniss screams. She’s on her knees above him, shaking his body so hard that he’s rocking. She slaps his cheeks, trying to wake him. “Peeta!”
Finnick’s hand falls from your face, mouth open as he crawls a few feet over to Katniss, you move to follow. He pushes her out of the way, needing to be where she’s sitting, “Let me.”
He touches the points at Peeta’s neck, and you catch on to his plan immediately. He runs his fingers over the bones in his ribs and his spine, being thorough. When he stops, he pinches Peeta’s nose shut.
“No!” Katniss yells, hurling herself at Finnick.
You jump, arms securing around her upper body, tackling her to the ground. She’s stronger than she looks, though, because she manages to get out of your grip, and flips her body on top of yours. With both of your hands pinned next to your head due to her knees, she pulls an arrow, pressing it against the bow, and draws back the string, aiming for Finnick.
“Wait!” You squirm beneath her. “Don’t!”
She holds the position, watching your boyfriend. You arch your back, turning your head to the side to try and see where Finnick’s at in the process. You can hardly see him out of the corner of your left eye, due to him being directly behind you.
He’s breathing air into Peeta’s lungs, making his chest rise and fall. Finnick then reaches to unzip the top of the jumpsuit to get access to his skin. And like all the times he’s done it before, he begins to pump the area over Peeta’s heart with the heels of his hands.
When you look back at Katniss, you can see that the intense crease between her eyebrows has relaxed. She watches, captured by Finnick’s actions. When she glances down, she realizes that she’s still on top of you, so she moves off, the arrow sinking to the ground.
You get to your feet, wanting to be out of the dirt and grass. Finnick is so well rehearsed that while you would feel the need to ask anyone else if they’d like to trade off, you don’t bother with him. He goes on like this for several minutes, determination not once wavering.
When Peeta lets out a small cough, Finnick backs off. Katniss flings herself at him, brushing his hair off of his forehead. “Peeta?”
His eyes flutter open, landing on Katniss. “Careful.” His voice is weak. “There’s a force field up ahead.”
The laugh that comes from Katniss is choked, because of the tears coming down her face is a giant wave. Finnick gets to his feet, coming to you to brush his fingers through your hair, combing out dirt and leaves.
“She didn’t hurt you, did she?” He murmurs quietly. “I couldn’t tell.”
“I’m fine.” You assure him. “You’re a quick thinker.”
He cocks his head to the side. “Anything to save the alliance, right?”
He wanders away to recollect the weapons, your eyes linger on Katniss and Peeta.
“Must be a lot stronger than the one on the Training Center roof. I’m all right, though. Just a little shaken.” He tells her.
“You were dead! Your heart stopped!” She bursts, and then slaps her hand over her mouth.
“Well, it seems to be working now. It’s all right, Katniss.” He touches her arm. She nods her head, but doesn’t move her hand. “Katniss?”
“It’s okay. It’s just her hormones.” Finnick says, dropping the trident, spear and machete into a lazy pile together. He’s looking down at them. “From the baby.”
“No. It’s not—” She’s cut off by her own sobs, glaring through the tears at Finnick.
You stare, unsure of what’s happening. When you look at Finnick, you find him just as puzzled, fae twisted. He looks between the teenagers on the ground, before giving a glance your way. You raise your eyebrows, he shakes his head slightly.
“How are you?” He asks Peeta. “Do you think you can move on?”
“No, he has to rest.” Katniss insists, pressing the back of her arm to her nose to keep it from running. She wipes the tears from her face, trying to seem presentable again. She then reaches toward Peeta’s neck, picking up the gold disk attached to the necklace. “Is this your token?”
“Yes. Do you mind that I used your mockingjay? I wanted us to match.” He says.
“No, of course I don’t mind.” She smiles.
“So you want to make camp here, then?” You ask, trying to get them back on track.
“I don’t think that’s an option.” Peeta says. “Staying here. With no water. No protection. I feel all right, really. If we could just go slowly.”
“Slowly would be better than not at all.” Finnick says, reaching to help Peeta to his feet.
You collect the trident and the spear, while Katniss grabs the machete for Peeta. She hands it to Peeta, checking over her own weapons. Once everyone has gathered themselves, she starts forward. “I’ll take the lead.”
—
“Run!” Katniss’s shrill voice cuts through the quiet night air. “Run!”
A hand secures around your forearm, pulling you upright. You squint through tired eyes to find the enemy, reaching to grab your spear. Finnick’s on his feet, trident in one hand, your arm in the other.
The only thing you’re met with is the wall of white fog, descending upon you. You try to get to your feet, realizing that you have to run. Finnick doesn’t have the patience, leaning over you to simply scoop you into his arms. You bounce, wrapping an arm around the back of his shoulders.
“Finnick.” You say, but he doesn’t look at you, attention alternating between the path ahead and the fog that’s closing in on you from the sides.
He holds up the trident wordlessly, you take it from his hand. This allows him to get a better hold on your body. You watch his face for a few minutes, and then you turn your attention to the two behind you.
Katniss and Peeta are struggling to keep up with the pace that Finnick is setting—which is impressive, considering you’re an extra weight in his arms. Peeta is moving slower than he was this afternoon, meaning that the force field did more damage than any of you realize.
Katniss is holding his hand, moving in front of him, picking out where they run through. They’re managing to stay in front of the fog, but not by much. The fog is lapping at their heels, and even through the darkness, you can see their reactions to it.
“They’re struggling.” You tell him.
He turns enough to get a brief look at them. “You can do it, follow my path!”
It’s not enough. Finnick only takes a couple more steps when you watch as Peeta gets his prosthetic leg caught in a patch of weeds. He can’t catch himself, and it’s too late for Katniss, too. He sprawls across the grass, with Katniss struggling to help him.
“Finn,” You squirm in his arms, “We have to get them. They’re going to die.”
He stops running now, panting. He lets your legs down first, making sure that you’re on a solid part of the ground before he leaves you, trekking back up to the tributes from Twelve. You watch as Katniss jerks Peeta forward, causing him to stumble. Finnick gets there, pulling Peeta’s arm over his shoulders. Katniss wedges her shoulder under the other, and they begin to work together.
“Do you want me to help?” You call.
“No, (Y/n)!” Finnick shouts. “Find us a path.”
You give a hard nod, turning and going down the slope, trying to pick out an area that the three of them will be able to take together. However, they’re only able to make it so far before Finnick stops. You watch as him and Katniss talk for a moment, before he points at you.
She stares at him for a long moment, like she’s confused. As soon as you take a step to go back and find out what the issue is, Finnick pulls Peeta onto him. Katniss is running at you, leaving him behind. When she gets close, she grabs a hold of your arm, pulling you with her.
You resist, watching Finnick.
“Go, (Y/n)!” He barks at you.
It doesn’t feel right, letting him take up the rear, but Katniss is pulling so aggressively that once you stumble forward one step, it’s easy to keep dragging you. And it isn’t until Finnick passes you, taking the lead, do you let her pull you along.
Together, the three of you run between bushes and ferns, dodging trees, narrowly avoiding roots and weeds, calling out warnings. Finnick is taking you down a diagonal path, keeping you away from where the fog is walling you in, while also steering you to the Cornucopia, where the water is.
Still, the fog somehow gains distance, moving faster, tendrils reaching for you desperately. It finally touches you, a searing pain blistering across your skin. The jumpsuit melts away from the acid, doing nothing to protect you from the element.
Katniss begins to struggle, her arms twitching at her sides, having a mind of their own. Her leg has become one useless block, refusing to move with her anymore. She’s not the only one, you can see that Finnick and Peeta can’t help their movements, either. It’s a reaction to the fog, it’s attacking your nerves.
You follow Finnick until he collapses on the ground, Peeta on top of him. Katniss isn’t too far behind, she doesn’t stop, despite seeing them. She trips over their bodies, hand letting you go as she falls onto the heap. You topple forward, but catch yourself on her lower back.
“Get up.” You tell her, head swiveling to look at the fog, still approaching you. “Get up, now!”
You pull Katniss off of Peeta, trying to prop her on her feet, but she sways, not being able to hold her bodyweight. She lands nearby, bow falling from her hand. Peeta manages to roll off Finnick, giving you a clear view of your boyfriend, and his half-conscious state.
You ditch the weapons, grabbing onto his wrists, trying to drag him away from the fog. If there’s anyone that’ll survive this, it’s going to be you two. You’ll deal with the repercussions afterward, you won’t let him die.
You get him a few feet, before you can hear Katniss croaking. Her voice acts as a reminder that you’re supposed to save her, she’s the important one in this situation.
“It’s stopped.” She says, which is what she must’ve been trying to tell you.
You look up from her body to where the fog was advancing. She’s right, it appears to be thicker, forced to condense, but the tendrils are gone. It’s like it’s pressed up against a glass wall, keeping it from moving forward.
You let out a breath of relief, lowering Finnick momentarily as you catch your breath. He’s staring up at you, green eyes capturing yours, moonlight glinting off his bronze hair. His lips move, but there’s no sound behind it.
“Mon-hees.” Peeta murmurs.
You look over to see that he’s gesturing up, at a pair of orange monkeys, sitting together on a branch above them. You drop one of Finnick’s wrists, your hand reaching for the knife on your purple belt. Peeta then rolls over to his knees, beginning to climb down the slope, Katniss behind him. The monkeys don’t jump at them, letting them leave.
You ease, grabbing Finnick’s wrist again, as you go back to dragging him out of the jungle. It’s fairly obvious that he’s in worse condition than the other two, because of his drooping face and uncooperative limbs. He took on most of the fog for Peeta, but that doesn’t mean that Peeta’s completely clean.
You get to the beach, pulling Finnick to the shore, before lowering him to the ground. Katniss crawls all the way to the water, letting it hit her face before she jerks back, letting out a noise. She doesn’t let this deter her, placing her hand on the wet sand, water washing over it. She winces, but you watch as the blue water turns a milky white.
It’s coming out of her skin.
“Okay, Finnick.” You murmur, walking around him to grab his feet. He groans as a response. You turn his body around, carefully pulling him into the water. “Work with me, baby.”
You pull his shoes off first, tossing them toward the treeline. When you begin to work the jumpsuit off his body, he tries his best to move the right way. You have to be careful, with the amount of white patches on his tanned skin. The last thing you want is to get any poison on your skin.
Once you’ve got the wetsuit off, it’s easy to work from there. You start with his feet, carefully scooping handfuls of water on, watching as the poison leaves his skin in wisps, disappearing into the air. You pull him in the water, inch by inch, working all the way up to his abdomen, before Katniss and Peeta are well enough to help you.
“Here, you take his head.” Peeta tells you. “We’ll get his body.”
“Be gentle.” You tell him. “His skin is sensitive from the…” You trail off, wanting to say Capitol. From the years of ongoing abuse he’s enduring from them. You sigh. “The um—the Games.”
Peeta nods, because there’s no need to question you. Katniss observes the way you treat Finnick, mimicking that. Together, you manage to get all the way up to his neck, not wanting to dunk his face underneath the water.
“Finnick, you’ve got to do this part on your own.” You tell him.
“That’s the worst part, but you’ll feel much better after, if you can bear it.” Peeta says.
Finnick nods, scooting to sit up. He takes your hand, squeezing tightly, as he purges his eyes, nose and mouth in the saltwater. When Katniss sees that you’ve got this under control, she gets to her feet.
“I’m going to try to tap a tree.” Her fingers pat the spile on her belt.
“Let me make the hole first.” Peeta says. “You stay with them. You’re the healer.”
Katniss shakes her head at him, not saying anything. He heads for the trees, knife in hand, looking for a good one. He finds it about ten yards from the beach. Katniss keeps a close eye on him, considering he’s hardly visible there.
Finnick eventually lets go of you, wanting to go deeper in the water. You let him, because there’s still a spot on your shoulder that you need to rinse from the poison. You dive into the water, feeling the hot pain blossom out from the spot the fog initially touched you.
When you surface, you scrub at the skin, watching the water turn white. With no other place on your body poisoned, you go to join Katniss back on the beach. She seems to have collected her mockingjay pin, now pinned to her undershirt. You stand near her, watching as she combs her hair from the braid. It’s fairly damaged from the poison, as it noticeably thins. If she cares, she hides it well, because she braids what’s left and throws it over her shoulder.
She then starts toward the water, trying to soak it in to get rid of the stiffness in her arms and legs. You opt for joining Peeta in the jungle, but only to grab the trident and spear, before leaving him in there.
Katniss alternates between floating on her stomach and back, getting as much exposure as possible. While Finnick makes laps around the wedge, dives, surfaces, sprays water out of his mouth at you. He even sinks to the seafloor, and right when Katniss opens her mouth, his head pops out of the water.
“Don’t do that.” She snaps.
You laugh a little.
“What? Come up or stay under?” He asks.
“Either. Neither. Whatever. Just soak in the water and behave.” She says, wading out of the water. “Or if you feel this good, let’s go help Peeta.”
Finnick pushes his hair out of his eyes, shaking his head behind her back. You hand him his trident, and he takes the opportunity to steal a kiss from you during the exchange.
He pulls away, humming. “Salty.”
“Gross.” You tell him. “Are you feeling better?”
“I’m a new person.”
“That’s good.”
Katniss takes a few steps into the jungle, when she suddenly stops in the middle, forcing you to stop, too. She looks up slowly, you follow her gaze. In the branches hanging above Peeta, are a couple dozen of monkeys, weighing down the limbs. These are the same orange color as the pair that you’d seen thirty minutes ago.
The ones that you thought were going to attack them.
Katniss casually reaches for two arrows, arming her bow with them. You fix the spear in your hand, sharing a look with Finnick. “Peeta,” Katniss’s voice is even, trying to stay calm. “I need your help with something.”
“Okay, just a minute. I think I’ve just about got it.” He says, still drilling into the tree. “Yes, there. Have you got the spile?”
“I do. But we’ve found something you’d better take a look at. Only move toward us quietly, so you don’t startle it.”
It’s smart of her to keep the monkeys from him, considering they’re not reacting to your presence. They’ve all got their eyes on Peeta, he’ll be the trigger if he moves too fast.
Peeta turns to you, a little crease between his eyebrows. “Okay.” He says.
He begins to move in your direction, not being quiet at all. This makes you tense, but the monkeys still aren’t moving, holding where they are in the trees. He’s five yards from where you’re standing on the beach, when he gets a clue. His eyes cast up, and he must make eye contact, because the monkeys explode.
They move faster than you’re able to comprehend, as the shrieking begins. They come down the trees by the vines, swinging at him. They leap from tree to tree to get a better advantage on him. Fangs bared, hackles raised, claws shooting out.
“Mutts!” Katniss spits.
The three of you jerk to join Peeta in the jungle to protect him from the sheer amount of them. Katniss begins to fire arrows rapidly, taking down monkeys left and right, targeting vital points. You and Finnick work back and forth, trying to keep up with her pace, but she’s got a long-ranged weapon.
Finnick will spear several of them like fish before flinging them off to the side. You take jabs when the occasional one gets too close, Peeta slashing with his knife. One of the monkeys latch onto Katniss’s back, when you stab through the back of its head.
The air is hard to breathe, between the scent of blood, the warm must of the monkeys, and the trampled plants. You all move to have your backs to one another, a few yards between each of you to make this fight easier.
A monkey comes soaring out of the trees, straight at you, right as you aim to kill a different one. You can feel your whole body clam up, preparing for the impact.
“Don’t move!” Finnick shouts behind you. You can feel the wind of the trident whizzing between you and Peeta, slamming directly into the chest of the monkey, and the two behind it.
“Worry about yourself!” You tell Finnick.
“Right!” He laughs, you pull the knife out of your belt to hand to him. He grabs it, slicing for a few seconds, before he shouts. “Switch!”
You twist around to take the opposite side, Finnick moves quickly, taking where you’d been standing moments before. There’s more monkeys on this side, forcing you to catch up. When you steal a glance over your shoulder, you see that Finnick has retrieved his trident, getting back on track.
Katniss shoots an arrow, reaching back to grab another. She then switches to her knife, swinging. “Peeta! Your arrows!”
Peeta drops what he’s doing to slide it off, Katniss turning to grab it. This forces you to cover not one, not two, but three areas. Finnick grunts behind you, trying to do the same, but the two of you aren’t enough. A monkey lunges out of a tree, aiming for Peeta. Katniss throws her knife, missing.
Before you can help, Katniss begins to run at Peeta. You reach out to grab the back of her undershirt, she slips from your fingers. She won’t make it in time.
The tip of your spear pierces through the chest of another mutt, when a high-pitched scream fills the air. You look, prepared to see Katniss on the ground, but instead find the female tribute from District Six running at the mutt aimed for Peeta. She throws her skinny arms around it, as it sinks its teeth into her body.
Peeta drops the sheath, which Katniss stoops to grab. He repeatedly stabs his knife into the monkeys back until it releases its jaw, kicking it away, bracing for more. The four of you are panting loudly, for a second, that’s all you’re able to hear.
“Come on, then! Come on!” Peeta shouts angrily.
The monkeys aren’t moving forward, though. In fact, they withdraw, fading into the jungle, called back by the Gamemakers.
“Get her.” Katniss tells Peeta, looking at the morphling. “We’ll cover you.”
Peeta carefully pulls the morphling into his arms, carrying her a few yards to the beach. You follow behind him, spear tight in your hand. Finnick and Katniss come out once your feet hit the sand, ensuring that the monkeys don’t come out behind you.
Peeta brings her to the water, laying her in the wet sand. Katniss cuts away at the wetsuit covering her chest, revealing the four puncture wounds, blood slowly pooling in them, trickling down her skin. It doesn’t look that terrible from the outside, which means the real damage has been done inside.
She’s gasping for air, struggling to breathe. Katniss kneels next to her, taking one of the twitching hands.
“I’ll watch the trees.” Finnick says, walking away.
When Katniss looks up at you for help, you turn to leave with Finnick, not necessarily wanting to watch the scene, either. He looks over, making sure that you’re going with him.
“What the hell is going on?” You whisper once you step into the trees.
“No idea.” He shakes his head. “The fog and the monkeys back to back?”
“In the middle of the night, too.” Your face twists. “A weird choice for the Capitol, wouldn’t they want the attacks to be during the day? What time is it, even?”
“It has to be really early.”
You lean up against a tree with the spear, watching the branches while Finnick picks bloody arrows out of the grass. There are a few mutt bodies around, but when Finnick gets close, the vines shift, pulling them away to keep you from inspecting.
When the cannon goes off, you move with Finnick to get back on the beach. A hovercraft has appeared over the water, claw dropping to collect the morphling out of the water. It secures around her, the claw returning to the craft, before disappearing.
He drops the arrows next to Katniss in the sand. “Thought you might want these.”
“Thanks.” She says, gathering them into her arms. She takes them to the water to clean, and when she’s done, she goes to the jungle, pulling moss off the rocks to dry them. “Where did they go?”
“We don’t know exactly. The vines shifted and they were gone.” Finnick says, sitting in the sand near you.
He reaches up to scratch his face, where the fog has touched him. It’s seemed that the little wounds have scabbed over already. Finnick’s picking at them, the same way that Peeta is.
Katniss notices this. “Don’t scratch. You’ll only bring infection.”
Peeta sighs, hand dropping. “Think it’s safe to try for the water again?”
Katniss nods, you stay where you are in the sand, letting the other three go in there to get water. Finnick comes out with a shell of warm water, watching you drink it, before going back to grab more. When they’ve satisfied their thirst, they come back out.
“Why don’t you three get some rest? I’ll watch for a while.” Katniss says.
“Are you sure?” Finnick asks, she nods.
Finnick lays down in the sand, staring up at you expectantly. You give him a smile, moving his hair. “I’m not tired, baby.”
He doesn’t argue, simply turning over in the sand, putting his back to you. Peeta does something similar, but opts for laying on his back instead, settling in. You and Katniss sit in silence for a while, watching the waves come to shore, before retreating. Like a game of cat and mouse.
It isn’t until the boys have fallen asleep, when Katniss speaks. “Can I ask you a question?” You look over at her with raised eyebrows. “How are you and Finnick so in sync?”
You breathe a laugh. “Years of practice—trial and error.”
“But you’ve never been in the Games together.” She says, it’s not a question. “How do you two know when to help?”
“Intuition.” You shrug. “Willpower.”
She shakes her head, looking away.
“It’s not something you figure out overnight.” You murmur. “I’ve been dating Finnick for years, Katniss. I know what he’s going to say before he even thinks it. It's just what happens. Besides, you’ve got some of that between you two, too.”
“It’s not the same.” She says.
“Finnick would tear the world apart if it meant keeping me safe, forever. You’re telling me that you wouldn’t do the same?” You ask, she’s quiet. “That’s what you’re doing now, isn’t it?”
She meets your eyes. “Yeah.”
“We’re not as different as you think.”
--
this was part of my 3k celebration!
#ilguna#finnick odair#finnick odair imagine#finnick odair fanfic#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair oneshot#finnick odair x you#finnick odair x yn#finnick odair x y/n#finnick imagine#finnick fanfic#finnick oneshot#finnick x reader#finnick x you#finnick x yn#finnick x y/n#thg#the hunger games#fluff#requested#3k celebration
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☼ breathtaking pt1 (Finnick Odair) ☼
summary; you thought that you were going to go into the arena without ever meeting your soulmate. little did you know, he's been next to you the whole time.
warnings; swearing
wc; 3.5k
part two.
–
The worst part about the announcement of the Quarter Quell was by far the amount of questions you were asked about it afterwards. In the months leading up to the reaping, all you kept being asked was, “How do you feel?”
In the beginning, you would just stare at them for a second, hoping that they’d realize how stupid they are for asking it in the first place. How do they think you feel? While they’re all grown and get to live the rest of their lives without worrying about dying, you’re having your rights taken away from you yet again.
You aren’t supposed to do this again. Everyone was promised that once they win, they are done with the Hunger Games. They were no longer eligible to go inside, the only time you’d come close would be during mentoring. You’d get to live that week in the Capitol over and over and over again, watching different tributes get reaped, and then die in the arena.
As the reaping drew closer, the question died in their throats. The idea of reminding you about your potential fate made them uncomfortable. They never considered the idea of how irritating it was to answer the question every day of the week and then for it to slowly fizzle out.
You could handle the odds of going back into the arena. With only four girls in District Five, there was a twenty-five percent chance that the name pulled out of the bowl would be yours. It bothered the other girls, but you knew you had to let it go if you wanted to be even remotely happy for what could be your last weeks in your home.
Actually, the part that upsets you the most is the fact you’ll never get to see the world in color, because you haven’t met your soulmate yet. You’ll never get to see the sky, or the trees, or the color of the clothes you wear everyday. All the features that make someone who they are is absent in your sight. You’re left with black, white, and grey.
You thought that you would have years to try and find them. You’re only in your twenties. You were supposed to take over mentoring, which would’ve allowed you to get a better chance at finding your soulmate.
It was ruined as soon as your name was the one drawn out of the bowl. You felt your heart sink into your stomach, because you weren’t stupid enough to think anyone would volunteer for you. The sighs of relief that came from the other girls was salt in the wound.
For a few hours, you were stupid enough to hope that you’d win, until you saw exactly who was drawn this year. It ended up being the last nail on the coffin. You are going to die inside of the arena, you’re sure of it. That’s why you haven’t taken a single thing seriously this past week.
Why does it matter? Why would sponsors matter? They don’t want you, they want the siblings, they want the volunteers, they want their darlings, and they want the newest trouble. You are just a minor victor in the crowd.
When you were telling your stylist about your pessimistic views, all he could say was that they were entirely justified. The Capitol loves their victor’s unfairly, and then it ruins the chances for the rest of you. Anything that would normally catch the attention of the crowd on a regular Hunger Games is useless here. The parade, the scores, the interview you’re about to do. It’s for nothing.
You trace patterns on the bare skin of your thigh, watching as your prep team and stylist move around the room. They’d briefly gathered a few minutes ago to talk, and ever since they’ve been running around pulling things off the shelves in the closet. You’re guessing it’s jewelry.
Your stylist pulls out one of those protective bags for dresses, except this one is bigger and stuffed with fabric. He unzips it to take a look inside, and you can see the smile come across his face. His eyes dart up to yours, looking at you through the mirror.
“(Y/n),” He begins, coming closer, “I’ve been saving this dress for a special occasion, since I will never be able to use it again in any of my work. Tonight, you will be my muse.”
You give him a slight smile, “Are you sure you don’t want to save it for anything else?”
“I’m sure.” He says, unzipping the bag, “I’m aware you can’t see the color, but you should know that it’s not the most important part. It’s the design.”
Together, he and the prep team work to get the dress out of the bag. It’s a light shade of grey, so you’re going to guess that it’s a pastel color. It’s uncommon for stylists to go for something so gentle, because the lights on the stage tend to wash the tributes out. That’s why the colors are bright and hard, so they can pop and shine.
You think that it’s going to be some small dress, but the fabric never stops. There’s so much of it. He tosses the dress bag off to the side, and then unzips the back for you to get into. It takes a minute, they have to adjust and pin the dress where it’s too big or too small. By the end, you can’t even tell that it’s been altered.
One of the prep team members gets to work on fluffing the dress, while the other fixes your hair, and then gets to work on putting the jewelry on you. She focuses on your earrings and the necklaces on your collarbone to make sure they’re positioned perfectly. They get you in heels, and then your stylist shuffles in front of you to settle something on the top of your head.
You’re ordered to close your eyes until you’re in front of the mirror and finishing touches are made. They fix your makeup, and then spray something wet and sweet smelling on your skin. You’re guessing it’s perfume, but as soon as you open your eyes and sway slightly, your skin sparkles.
The dress is floor length, off the shoulder but with long and loose sleeves to keep you from getting cold while waiting for your turn to be interviewed. And the object he snuggled in your hair is a tiny tiara that sparkles with your skin each time you move.
You run your hand over the gorgeous patterned lace, letting out a breath, “What color is it?”
“Pink.” He says, coming over to stand behind you, “A gentle and loving pink, one that resembles innocence and beauty.” He fixes a curl, “It’s light and uplifting, and it looks beautiful on you.”
“Thank you.” You smile.
“You’re good to go out, (Y/n). I believe in you.” He says.
You wander out of the room and down the hall, absently tracing one of the closest flowers while you near the line to the stage. The other victor’s are in varying outfits. This year, District Two is subjected to looking like gladiators, the Ritchson siblings are eye-catching in their sequin outfits. Johanna Mason wears a long dress, but she doesn’t look out of place.
A few eyes land on you as you draw closer, but they don’t linger longer for more than a second. They don’t care, a victor from District Five is anything but a threat to them at this point. You’re sure half of them have already decided how they’re going to get rid of you in the arena. And if they haven’t, it’s because they know they can take you in a fight. There’s no use planning it.
It’s only a few minutes later, when the entire hallway is going completely silent. You look over to see Katniss, dressed in a large wedding dress. You should’ve guessed, that was the whole obsession after their Victory Tour. Of course, her stylist would try one more thing to catch the Capitol’s attention.
“I can’t believe Cinna put you in that thing.” Finnick says, there’s a look of bewilderment on his face.
“He didn’t have any choice. President Snow made him.” Katniss defends.
Cashmere flickers her hair over her shoulder, “Well, you look ridiculous!” She spits, taking Gloss’ hand and walking off with him to stand at the front of the line.
You swallow, closing your eyes. You don’t know how you’re going to survive this, really. You know nothing about any of these people, except for what you’ve seen on the screen. You’re at a severe disadvantage compared to the other female victor’s back home. At least they got to talk to half of these people.
The only two victor’s that feel the same way you do must be Katniss and Peeta, but even they’re fitting in more than you are.
You resist the urge to rub down your face, but you do let out a slight huff. You guess you’ll just have to resort to hiding in the arena, even though you didn’t win through that strategy. You mostly fucked around with trying to set off traps and force the gamemakers to accidentally kill the tributes for you. It worked, it’s why you’re standing here today.
That’s not going to fly in the arena, though. These people have watched your games, the same way you watched theirs. All strategies are on the table, which means that you’ll need to figure out how to camouflage and hide, immediately.
Cashmere and Gloss lead the way onto the stage, and one by one, you make your way to the seats at the back of the stage. The audience is loud, cheering and whistling. The lights are blinding, you squint through them, relaxing your face when you’re adjusted to the brightness.
You tuck the dress beneath you before you sit down, as soon as you’re planted in your seat, you can feel the nerves in your stomach settle. You haven’t been on a stage in a few years, you remember hating every minute of it. From the parade, to your face being shown for scores, to all the interviews and speeches you did after you won. You hated every second of it.
Caesar’s hair is a different color, it’s some type of grey, so you’re thinking it’s a muted color. You know that he changes it every year, you wish you could see, because you’re sure he looks fantastic every time. He’s been hosting the Hunger Games for a long, long time. That’s a lot of colors to go through, repeating or not.
He does his usual opening-interview spiel with the audience by cracking a few jokes and getting them in a fun mood. From what you’ve heard from your mentors, the citizens of the Capitol are torn between hating the Quarter Quell and adoring it. It’s clear on why; most of the favorites are here. It’s a shame they don’t know how much power they hold.
Cashmere starts the interviews with a speech on how she’s been crying ever since she was chosen. She’s so heartbroken over the fact that the Capitol is suffering because of how many victor’s they’re losing to the games. Gloss follows up with talking about how they’ve been so kind to them ever since they won, and it’s been a pleasure mentoring since.
Enobaria expresses how sad she is that she won’t be able to experience the Capitol’s wonders, since there’s more to live through. She was hoping to get more body modifications and possibly become one of their featured darlings, or a modeling icon for the people back home.
Beetee does his intelligent rambling, talking about how the Quarter Quell is technically illegal and it shouldn’t exist in the first place. He asks if the experts—Gamemakers—have considered this and examined it as of late. You watch as Wiress goes up and backs him up calmly, explaining that this isn’t fair.
When Mags takes the stage, it’s filled with Caesar guessing what she’s trying to say, but you can tell that she’s outraged, too. She’s too old for this, and yet she volunteered to come to save a girl she mentored. Finnick talks through a bright smile, and when Caesar asks if he’s got anything to say, his eyes darken. He proceeds to recite a love poem that’s clearly talking about his home district and how he might not get to see it ever again. It’s misinterpreted and too many people in the crowd think it’s aimed at them.
“For District Five, we have the lovely (Y/n) (L/n)!” Caesar shouts, hand held out in your direction.
You get to your feet with a smile, heading toward the front of the stage. You place your hand in his, he squeezes your knuckles, “Hello, Caesar.”
“Hello!” He laughs, looking over what you’re wearing, “Well, don’t you look pretty! I don’t think I’ve seen anything quite like this before on stage.”
“My stylist was saving it for a special day, and that’s tonight, I suppose. I was just as surprised as you are.” You look out to the audience.
“Yes, it has been an interesting night so far.” He agrees, “Tell me, what was going through your mind at the reaping?”
You give a half-shrug, “I was disappointed, if I’m being honest.”
“And why’s that?” He asks.
“Well, I’m sure you can guess.” You shake your head, “I’m sure it’s an honor for some people to be back here again and have the opportunity to compete, but I’m losing out on one of the most important parts about living.”
“Let me guess, getting to mentor tributes?” He smiles.
You shake your head again, “No Caesar, it’s getting to see color.”
There’s enough gasps at once that makes your smile inwardly. You know what the other victor’s are trying to do, so you’ll help them. Even if they don’t invite you into their alliances, you’re with them on this. You don’t want the Quarter Quell to happen. You want to go home. That’s why you’ll expose yourself to the Capitol, because you’ve heard how colorful they are. They’ll eat up the idea of living this long without seeing color, ever.
Caesar gapes for a second, “You haven’t found your soulmate yet?”
You look out, “I will never get to see the Capitol the way the rest of you do. I hear the buildings are brightly colored, I hear how gorgeous the clothes are. And I will never get to experience that, because it’s being taken away from me.”
You can feel the tears build in your eyes. They’re partially real, because all you’ve ever wanted was to see the world the way your parents did. They saw real beauty everywhere they looked, and you saw nothing. And you will see nothing, until the day you die in the arena.
You hard blink to force the tears down your face, throat clogging. You have to play it up for them, otherwise they won’t care. You take a few seconds to dab at the corners of your eyes, with Caesar comforting you. The citizens are eating it up, there’s a few of them crying, you can’t see them past the light in your eyes, but you can hear them out there.
“I’m sorry, (Y/n).” Caesar squeezes your hand.
“I am too.” You sniff, fanning your face, “For what it’s worth, I think the city is beautiful without color, too.”
The buzzer goes off, signaling the end of your interview. There’s shouts complaining over how short it felt. You kiss the tips of your fingers and blow a kiss to the crowd before turning away and walking back to your seat. You struggle to hold in the smile that wants to break over your face.
The next few interviews are just as brutal. Johanna questions whether or not the creators can do anything about it. They never anticipated that the Capitol and the victors would form such a bond. Cecelia does a number by saying goodbye to her kids on camera, which has the whole audience in tears.
Seeder’s calm when she says that Snow is considered powerful. If he is, then certainly he can change the fate of the Quarter Quell, right? Chaff comes in swinging, reciting the same thing as Seeder but enforcing the idea that Snow must not care about the way his people feel.
And then Katniss walks to the front and the audience is in shambles. She’s unable to speak for several minutes, and by the tame she can, she’s speaking about her wedding. How none of them will be able to attend it, now that she’s been reaped for another Hunger Games, but Snow wanted to show them what could’ve happened.
She starts twirling like she did last year, except the minor flames from the year before have turned into large ones. They consume the end of the dress and eat away at the layers, until it reaches her shoulders, and suddenly the flames are gone. You’re left staring at a black dress with feathers. When she stretches her arms out, wings appear.
Katniss’ interview ends almost a minute later, and she takes her seat. This allows Peeta to come to the front of the stage, where they go back and forth being comical. Caesar changes the topic to the Quell once he sees an opportunity to, and there the mood slowly spirals downward.
He says that he and Katniss are already married, and they did it privately while they could because they wanted the moment to be theirs. Then he quickly says that it’s unofficial because the traditions back home mean almost nothing to a piece of paper confirming it. Caesar and the crowd eat it up, completely on the edge of their seats.
“As you say, no one could’ve. But I have to confess, I’m glad you two had at least a few months of happiness together.” Caesar says. There’s a round of applause, Katniss briefly looks up from her dress.
“I’m not glad,” Peeta suddenly ays, “I wish we had waited until the whole thing was done officially.”
There’s a shock that goes through Caesar, he doesn’t say anything for a second, “Surely even a brief time is better than no time?”
“Maybe I’d think that, too, Caesar,” Peeta spits, “if it weren’t for the baby.”
Silence.
The words sink in the air, but as people get to their feet, shaking their fists, voices raised and screaming about injustice, it sparks others to follow. It’s not long before the whole audience is a wreck and nothing but an indiscernible noise. Caesar stands there dumbfounded, speaking into the microphone but not gathering any attention.
You press your lips together to hide the smile cracking at the corners of your lips.
Caesar’s trying to get the crowd to calm down, chaos has broken out. There’s no point in saying anything once the anthem begins to play. The volume’s so loud that you can feel it in your chest when the deeper parts play. It lets you know that it’s time to get to your feet to say goodbye on the program.
You lace your fingers in front of you, but quickly notice that others are not doing the same. As you look down the line of victors to your left, where Peeta is at the end, you can see that they’re holding hands, and your district partner has his palm open to do the same.
You grab his hand, and turn to Finnick, who has this little smile on his face, hand held up for you to take. You carefully place your hand on top of his, he’s quick to lace his fingers with yours. You squeeze tightly, hoping for some reassurance, and find him squeezing back.
When you look up to the crowd, your face twists. The light is just as strong, but you can tell what’s beyond it, because it’s no longer a sea of different shades of black, white and grey. They’re in color, they’re bright, and they almost hurt your eyes from the shades they’re wearing.
You gasp, tears filling your eyes when you look out. You remember what your stylist said about the dress you’re wearing, and look down at it. Gentle, loving, innocent, beauty, light and uplifting pink. He was right. He dressed you as a princess for these people.
You tear your eyes away to finally, finally look at Finnick, your soulmate. The reason why you’re seeing these colors. You’re met with bright and breathtaking eyes, watching your face with a crooked smile. You can’t help the laugh that comes from you as the tears overflow your eyes.
“It’s you.” You breathe.
“It’s me.” He agrees.
#ilguna#finnick odair#finnick odair imagine#finnick odair oneshot#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair fanfic#finnick odair x yn#finnick odair x y/n#finnick odair x you#finnick odair x ps reader#finnick odair x plus size reader#finnick imagine#finnick oneshot#finnick fanfic#finnick x reader#thg#the hunger games#requested#damn thats a lot of tags#fluff
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I love your work! Could I please get #17 of list 2 with Haymitch? I was thinking it could be a nightmare from the games or going into the reaping for the 75th? Thank you 💜
☼ history repeats itself (Haymitch Abernathy) ☼
warnings; swearing, death mention, alcohol use.
wc; 1.6k
prompt; 17. "Hey, listen to me. You're safe. Nothing is going to hurt you."
—
The last time Haymitch was himself was the night of the reading of the card for the Third Quarter Quell, which happened in the winter. He hasn’t been the same person since, but you weren’t really expecting him to be.
The horror that President Snow presented in front of the entirety of Panem had shook him, and every other victor across the country that thought they were safe. You remember sitting with him in silence on the couch. When you looked at him, it was clear to you that he was slipping away.
It hadn’t even been five minutes since the news reached your ears.
Haymitch stood up from the couch without a word, walking from the living room into the kitchen. You didn’t have to turn around to know what he was about to do. You couldn’t blame him, either. You didn’t even think to hold it against him.
He slammed open the window, you jumped at the noise, and he muttered an apology. The first breeze that came through was nice, it seemed to calm the warmth that had crossed your skin. You looked over to find him pulling a bottle of white liquor out of the cupboard, reaching to open it.
There was a series of hard knocks on the door, you got to your feet to answer it, but it was already swinging open. It was Peeta, a string of apologies leaving his lips for barging in. In the next breath, he was addressing Haymitch, and it wasn’t for what you’d thought it would be.
Peeta started to beg Haymitch to allow him to go inside of the arena again. He didn’t want Haymitch to interfere, to let the reaping run its course. He said that if Haymitch were drawn, he’d volunteer. But if he was drawn, Haymitch wasn’t allowed to lift a finger. He wanted to go back into the arena if it meant that Katniss would be.
You watched as Haymitch cracked the seal on the bottle, taking a long drink of it, before walking over to the dining room table to set it down. “I’m not going to make any deals, Peeta.”
It started out as them talking civilly, and then it began to fade into an argument. With Peeta telling Haymitch that since he protected Katniss the first time around, that meant he owed Peeta. Anything. And Peeta wanted a chance to go into the arena again.
By the time Peeta left, Haymitch was a quarter of the way through his bottle. When Katniss showed up, he was halfway in, drunk. You were sitting at the table with him, asking him if there was any way he could get out of this. You knew what the answer was already, you were just hoping it wasn’t true.
He did what he always does with Katniss—antagonize her. He asked her if she was there to ask him to go back inside of the arena for Peeta. She denied it and sat down with you two, drinking from his bottle. And then, instead of suggesting for him to volunteer, she said she wanted Peeta to be saved from the arena, no matter the situation.
It was only when Haymitch agreed to this, did she leave. The next day, Peeta came by and dumped all of the liquor in the house down the drain. He told you that neither you or Haymitch were allowed to buy it from Ripper down at the Hob—not that he thought you would, anyway.
If you’re being honest, you thought that his whole plan to get Haymitch to train alongside him and Katniss would last a few weeks at best. It wasn’t until the three of them started to show signs of improvement, did you believe that Haymitch wasn’t going to slip back into his habits.
Still, his attitude about the situation hasn’t changed in the past six months, and it’s grown worse over the past week, leading up to today. When you woke up this morning, you were expecting him to say anything about the reaping that will be taking place in the matter of hours. Instead, he pulled himself out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom.
You’ve kept a close eye on him all morning, something you’re sure he doesn’t appreciate very much. You don’t know what else to do. You tried to pretend like everything was alright, when he picked up on it, he asked you to stop. Every attempt you make at conversation falls short.
It’s like he wants to revel in the doom cloud above him. And who are you to tell him otherwise? If you were in his place, you’re sure you’d do the same. He’s the first victor of District Twelve, and he was a tribute in the last Quarter Quell. If there’s anyone that’s earned a right to silence this morning, it’s him.
That doesn’t mean it’s any easier to see him this way.
“Are you almost ready?” Haymitch asks.
You look into the mirror to see where he’s standing, finding that he’s in the bathroom doorway. You tilt your head to the side as you slide the earring into place. “Almost.”
He nods, turning his body halfway to leave, and then he changes his mind. He leans against the frame, head tilted downward to look at the ground. He’s dressed nicely, considering the situation. You’re even able to see the muscles that he’s built up from training. The only thing he’s missing is his blazer, but if he doesn’t have it in his hands already, that means he’s not planning on bringing it.
“I wish I could go with you.” You tell him, rising from your stool in front of the mirror.
Haymitch’s eyes snap up. “No, you don’t, (Y/n).”
“If it means that you don’t leave me, I do.” You close the drawers, and then begin to walk in his direction.
“You’re safer here.”
“It doesn’t feel like it.” You murmur. “I’m ready.”
He lets your comment slide, not wanting to fight. The two of you leave his Victor home, going down the steps. He shuts the door behind him and doesn’t stop to lock it. Usually, you’d say something about it, but you’ll be coming back here after you bid him goodbye at the train station. You’ll have the house to yourself for the next few weeks while the Victor’s battle it out in an arena.
You barely make it out of the neighborhood before you’re pulling his hand into yours, squeezing tightly. He glances in your direction, you catch it out of the corner of your eye. Your head is facing the other way, not wanting him to see your face, and the frown that’s struggling to settle on your mouth. You won’t let it.
What you’re feeling is selfishness and guilt. You hope that Haymitch gets his name drawn first, and you hope that Peeta goes through with volunteering. You don’t want today to be your last day with him. You want him to go to the Capitol as a mentor so that you’ll be able to see him again.
This isn’t fair.
The walk to the Justice Building from Victor’s Village only takes a few minutes. From a distance, you can see the crowd that has gathered around the stage. This year, since there is no giant pool of young teenagers, it’s doubled in size.
Haymitch stops you, letting out a shaky breath.
You raise your eyebrows, eyes watching his face. He presses his lips together, breathing quicker, eyes locked on the stage.
“Hey, listen to me.” You squeeze his hand. “You’re safe, nothing is going to hurt you.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about, (Y/n).” He tells you. “I don’t want to lose you, the same way I lost them.”
Your face twists, confused for a moment, until it dawns on you. You haven’t been with Haymitch for long, only about two and a half years now. You’ve seen who he was before Katniss and Peeta, and heard his mindset because of what President Snow did to him.
In the beginning of your relationship, it felt like he was doing everything in his power to hide his history from you. It wasn’t because he was ashamed of it, he just wasn’t prepared for your reaction when he told you all of it. You knew the basics, the stuff everyone knows about his Games.
It was the aftermath of it that was hidden.
At the end of his Games, the Career girl had thrown her axe at him, and Haymitch collapsed because of the wound on his stomach, causing her to miss. The axe flew over the cliff, but came shooting back up, lodging in her skull.
Supposedly, they saw this act from Haymitch as one of rebellion. He was crowned Victor, and two weeks later, his mom, younger brother and girlfriend were all killed in retaliation. He tells you that he tried to put an effort into mentoring, but it was hard to exist everyday without aid. When he figured that he was never going to get a winning tribute, he turned to drinking, and stopped trying altogether.
This is what he must’ve been thinking about all morning.
You pull Haymitch in by your hands to hug him. He places his face in your neck, breathing in deeply.
“You’re not going to lose me. I’m going to be right here when you get back, Haymitch.” You tell him. “They can’t take me away from you.”
“I’ll be back, (Y/n).” He pulls you closer.
“I know.”
--
this is part of my 3k celebration!! you can join until the cure is released on Oct, 31st at midnight!!
#ilguna#haymitch abernathy#haymitch abernathy imagine#haymitch abernathy oneshot#haymitch abernathy fanfic#haymitch abernathy x reader#haymitch abernathy x you#haymitch abernathy x yn#haymitch abernathy x y/n#haymitch imagine#haymitch fanfic#haymitch oneshot#haymitch x reader#haymitch x you#haymitch x yn#haymitch x y/n#thg#the hunger games#anon#ask#request#3k celebration#angst
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☼ perfectly timed pt1 (Finnick Odair) ☼
summary; when you figure out that the arena's a clock, Finnick promises that he'll be your bodyguard from then on, and he doesn't take that responsibility lightly.
warnings; swearing, death, death mention, murder, gore, blood.
wc; 10.7k
part two.
–
See, after you won your Games, you should’ve learned your lesson regarding how to properly wield a weapon in order to defend yourself. At the time, you’d decided that your effort would be wasted. You dipped your toes in the water when it came to combat techniques, and quickly discovered that you needed to have a little foundation of fighting experience in order for the new information to mean anything.
So, you spent your time learning other useful skills, ones that would help if you took a lighter approach. It had been done plenty of times before with the tributes that came from less fortunate districts. They hid the entirety of the Games, waited out every mutt attack, survived every storm, dodged tributes, and ended up being pronounced as the Victor when the other final tribute finally went down.
You went to all the stations that the gymnasium had to offer. How to identify berries, first aid, tying knots, making weapons and tools from nothing, how to build shelter, weave nets, starting fires, cleaning water, snares, fish hooks, sewing. It was an endless list that you eagerly spent your time going through.
Yet, it didn’t matter when it came down to you and the career girl from Two. She tracked you down, followed you from hiding spot to hiding spot, watching your routine. The one skill you needed to know was how to defend yourself in a fight, and you had no idea how to. It’s what almost got you killed.
And it’s what might get you killed this time around.
You made the same mistake, only worse. You didn’t learn anything during your three training days. They were spent trying to figure out what the hell was going on between the tributes. With Beetee not telling you anything, you were left to your own devices.
You caught on pretty quickly to the looks that were being shared, it was the districts that had you stumped. Four, Six, Seven, Eight and Eleven. As far as you knew at the beginning, you and Beetee weren’t involved at all. You’d find out later that he’d signed you up for the alliance, he was just letting you sort out the situation on your own, waiting for you to come to him.
In the meantime, you watched as the victors you’ve known for years attracted like magnets to the Twelve tributes. On the other hand, Katniss and Peeta didn’t seem to be owned by anybody. They dabbled in a little bit of everybody, which you figured was because they were trying to find who would be the greatest allies in the arena.
Katniss is a smart girl, you saw that when you briefly talked between her and Beetee at the fire starting station. Beyond that, you never spoke to her again. You knew that she was the center of the odd behavior.
When you’d had enough by the time the scores came around, you finally asked Beetee what was going on. He informed you that because of the possibility of a rebellion, some of the districts are coming together to become one big alliance for the sake of the Twelve tributes inside of the arena. It wasn’t until he told you that you were both invited into said alliance, did it all fall into place.
By then, you were too fixated on figuring out every detail you could before the arena came around. You’d missed your opportunity yet again on how to defend yourself with a weapon. The one good thing that came out of it was Katniss taking a liking to you and Beetee at the station, causing her to request for you two to be her allies.
Which has, for some odd reason, landed you right in the middle of an alliance with Johanna and Beetee. This is not something you would’ve chosen on your own, for several reasons. There’s a part of you that knows you should be grateful that you have them here, because they really are your only source of protection from the other tributes in the arena for the time being.
You’d offer up Beetee, except he can’t fight in the first place, and especially can’t now that he’s been stabbed in the back after he went into the Cornucopia during the bloodbath. He was seeking to find his wire, the one that he used to win his games. Luckily, he found it. Although, you’re not entirely sure what he’s going to use it for quite yet.
Anyway, the Seven tributes are a bitter pill to swallow when they’re making it extremely difficult for you to continue being an easy ally for them. They might have saved you from the Cornucopia, but the way they’re talking to you two is wearing on your patience. Between Blight’s judgemental looks and Johanna’s short and rude attitude, you’re about to run off with Beetee to find a better spot to hide and strategize on how to blow this arena wide open.
“I’m done.” Johanna finally says, throwing her axe down in the grass. “We can make shelter here and find water in the morning. I’m not going to run around for the rest of the night looking for it.”
You take in a breath, turning to look at the area she’s picked out. It’s clear enough for the four of you to stay in. Beetee sets his wire down on the ground next to a tree, and slowly lowers himself to sit down, wincing when his back hurts.
Blight nods, fixing his own axe in his hand. “I’ll go find something for us to eat.”
Your lips twitch, you bite down on your tongue, wanting to offer to go with, because you’re sure that your knowledge will help some. The words die in your mouth, deciding to leave it be. If he finds an animal or nuts, fine. If he doesn’t, then you’ll sit here and wait for him to ask for help. You’re tired of him brushing you off. Besides, you can go without food for a couple of days. It won’t kill you.
Blight walks off, disappearing into the large jungle. The trees are tall, easily stretching over thirty feet into the air. Not to mention, the leaves act as a canopy, hiding the sun in the daytime. It’s been an hour since sunset, meaning you’re left to the moonlight to help guide you. Which is impossible to see through the greenery, as well.
You wander around the small area, picking at the plastic on the belt around your waist. Beetee was the one that popped it open, the liquid inside working as a floatation device when in water. Whoever developed it and decided it would appear as a belt is brilliant. You had no need to use yours, you learned how to swim when you were young.
Speaking of water, there is none in the arena. You came to that conclusion fairly quickly. You’ve covered at least five wedges walking diagonally, looking for any sign of it. There isn’t a single running stream or the sound of a waterfall. The only water in this arena is in the middle, and it’s undrinkable.
The Gamemakers could be wanting the sponsors to get more involved and branch out by helping more than their usual bets. In that case, water could never come. Unless they’re planning something else, like a great storm that’ll provide enough water for the next few days before it rains again.
It would make sense for them to engineer something like that. The humidity proves that, you think. Then again, this is one giant terrarium. They’ve got you under a glass bowl like you’re some sort of science project. That could be said about every arena, though. That’s not what’s special about this one.
It appears ordinary, with the last Quarter Quell, it was fairly obvious that there was something going on. You watched the recap for the first time on the train just a couple days ago. The arena was perfect, too perfect. A healthy green meadow, blue skies with fluffy white clouds, a thick forest to hide inside of, and in the distance, a snow-capped mountain.
It was too good to be true.
Here, all the cards seem to be laid out on the table. It’s miserable. The idea of victors fighting each other, the sun glaring down on you, the humidity making you sticky and irritated, the elevated jungle floor, and not a single sight of water or food the entirety of the climb. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that this is it. It can’t get any worse than this.
You know better, it’s the Capitol. You’re always waiting for the catch.
“Will you stop pacing?” Johanna asks.
You stop, pressing your lips together, looking at her. She’s got her eyes on you, leaned against a tree. She’s moved her axe to be against the tree, too. The handle in arm’s reach.
“Sure,” You say, annoyed. You can’t do anything with her. If you walk too loudly, she glares at you. If you try talking to Beetee, she hushes you. Now, you can’t even pace without her freaking out.
So, you turn to face away from her, staring off into the jungle, taking deep breaths to calm yourself. You hate working inside of a box that belongs to someone else. This is going to be a very long night.
—
A bright light appears from behind the jungle leaves. You squint, looking up to find the Capitol seal, the beginning notes of the anthem interrupting the silence. You push yourself up from where you’re resting next to Beetee, wanting to get a better look into the sky.
You find a spot that allows you a clear view into the sky, right on time for the first face to appear: the man from District Five. This means that all the careers survived the bloodbath. Finnick Odair is out there somewhere with his mentor, and they will undoubtedly be tomorrow’s target to find.
The next to show is the man from District Six, both Cecelia and Woof from Eight, both from Nine, the woman from Ten, and Seeder from Eleven. You pull on your fingers, eyes wandering off as the seal reppears and the music comes to an end, doing the math on how many allies are left.
With eight victors being dead, that leaves sixteen of you alive. Of those eight victors, four of them are allies. There’s still ten of you, more than half of the tributes left in the arena are part of the alliance. This leaves great odds still, nothing for you to worry about quite yet.
You wander back next to Beetee once the seal is gone.
“Finnick and Mags have to be around here somewhere.” Johanna mutters, her and Blight are gathered around a small fire. It’s not for warmth, but to cook the bird that was caught.
“We’ll run across them tomorrow. They’re looking for us, too.” Blight says to her.
At the very least, if you don’t find them tomorrow, you have the chance to find the other two allies that are left. The girl from Six, and Chaff from Eleven. As for Katniss and Peeta, you remember seeing Finnick get them out before you were attacked by Gloss. Johanna saved you seconds later.
You think that a meeting spot should’ve been established. You tried to suggest one, and you were drowned out by the many other ideas that were floating around in Haymitch’s head. If it had been up to you, you would’ve told him that you should all meet back at the Cornucopia on the second day. That way, you wouldn’t struggle with stupid directions. You’d just have to find your way back to the place you started.
Once the bird is ready, it’s split evenly between the four of you. You pick yours apart, down to the very last bone, not wasting a single piece of meat. You throw the bones over your shoulder, they land behind you somewhere in the bushes. At home, you’d boil the bones to make broth, here you don’t have any use to.
Beetee opts to lay down, tired. He keeps the spool of wire closeby, right between the two of you. He trusts that you’ll keep an eye on it, put your life on the line for it. You know better than anyone that he has a method to his madness, the same as you. If he believes that it’s important to have, who are you to say otherwise? You’ve listened to him for less.
“I’ll take first watch, Blight.” Johanna says, pulling the axe into her hand. “Go ahead and gather with Nuts and Volts.”
You press your lips together, glaring at Johanna. She catches this, giving you a taunting smile. Blight brings his axe with, creating a bed in the grass, and laying down a few feet from Beetee. You don’t move from where you sit.
If this bothers Johanna, she chooses not to mention it. She patrols, walking in a certain direction, and then turning around and going the other way without completing a full lap. It makes her moves unpredictable for the first fifteen minutes. A pattern develops, whether she intends it to or not.
You cross your arms, letting your head fall back against the tree, closing your eyes. The drowsiness doesn’t come immediately, leading you to believe that you’re too awake to fall asleep. In your Games, all you did was sleep, but that was because there wasn’t a constant threat hanging over your head the same way there is now.
You’re in an arena full of experienced killers. The stakes are higher than they’ve ever been before.
Still, you fall asleep to the sound of Johanna shuffling through the underbrush.
And wake to the sound of a bell tolling. You jerk forward, face twisted as you work through the haziness. You count each one, the number growing higher, until it stops. There is no announcement that follows.
Twelve.
You look up from where you’re staring at the grass, to where Johanna had been walking around earlier. You see that she’s gathered with Blight, frozen and staring at the night sky, waiting. She must’ve just woken him up so he can take over. If you were paranoid, you’d say that they’re plotting to kill you in your sleep. Which you’re not worried about, at all. Johanna’s desperate to get Katniss to like her; you and Beetee are her only ticket.
“Twelve.” Johanna echoes your thoughts. “Huh.”
“Could be signifying the end of the first day.” Blight theorizes, “It’s late, it has to be around midnight by now. They play the fallen right around eight.”
“Yeah, but why should we care that it’s the end of the first day?”
Blight shrugs. “Go ahead and sleep, I’ll take over from here.”
“Thanks.” She makes her way to where he made his bed, claiming it as her own now.
Blight could be onto something. It should be somewhere around midnight, meaning you’re officially in the second day of the arena. This could mean a number of things, but most importantly, the twelve bells can’t be a coincidence. The Capitol is far too smart to choose any random number, especially when it’s the exact amount of districts.
You almost stuff this in the back of your mind to go back to sleep, when a bright and strong bolt of electricity strikes a couple miles away. It continues into a lightning storm, shaking the ground and making it impossible for you to consider the idea of sleep.
You get to your feet, Blight whips around at the sound of movement. He lets out a loud sigh, “What are you doing?”
You walk right past him, ignoring him because you’re not really in the mood for what he has to say. You keep your eyes on the storm the best you can, trying to find a large enough clearing that’ll allow you to look at the sky. Blight calls after you, but you’re only twenty feet away when you stop.
The night sky is clear of any clouds. This means the lightning has to be engineered. Of course, you’ve seen storms with no clouds but for it to happen here, right after the twelve bells—it leads you to believe that this is far from a coincidence. This is just another piece of the puzzle.
Blight is waiting for you when you get back to camp. You shake your head, going back to where you’d been before with Beetee. You pick at your nails, watching Blight wander around the small area for a while. The storm doesn’t let up, persistent and angry.
With it carrying on for so long, you begin to relax next to the tree. Johanna and Beetee have no issue sleeping through it, so you should be able to sleep, too. You glance at Blight a final time, making sure that he’s still awake and moving, and then you rest the back of your head against the tree.
You don’t fall asleep, not fully. Too many ideas surface the moment your eyes have closed. Blight’s idea doesn’t sound too far off. It is something that the Gamemakers would do, but not without reason. For a second, you think that the twelve bells could be more than just for the amount of districts. It could be the number of allies in the alliance you’re in, minus two.
Then again, you’re not entirely sure how the Gamemakers would’ve been able to figure that out on their own. Everyone has done their best to be subtle about who belongs inside of it, and with the stunt that you all pulled at the end of the interviews; holding hands, showing unification. It would lead them to believe that you’re in this together, until the beginning of the bloodbath, when all of it had been forgotten.
Twelve.
It’s a specific number. The more you think, the more frustrated you get. There’s twelve sections in the arena, but you’re not sure how that helps. You picked up on that before you left the center rock with your allies. With two tributes to every wedge, it meant that there were twelve spokes.
That can be passed off as anything, though.
Right as you begin to think about how distracting the lightning is, and you can’t think straight, it ceases. The arena falls back into darkness, silence taking over the thunder. It’s eerily quiet for a few seconds, and then the nearby sound of gentle pattering against leaves begins.
You open your eyes.
It’s raining. For a long moment, you’re relieved; you have a chance at drinkable water, after all. And then you remember that there wasn’t a cloud in sight for the lightning. You press your lips together, eyebrows drawing in as you get to your feet for the third time tonight.
“Get Johanna up.” Blight orders, “We’ve got to catch the water with something.”
“Maybe a leaf?” You snark, walking right by a sleeping Johanna.
He must take you for some type of moron if he thinks that you’re going to wake her up on your own. You’re on her bad side enough as it is, if you stick your face in hers, you’ll be lucky if you don’t get your head cut off in the process. She can wake on her own when she figures out that it’s raining, or Blight can do it himself.
You walk in the same direction you had for the lightning storm, tilting your head back to try and find any clouds. A droplet lands on your forehead, it’s warm, leaving you no hope that you’ll get a chance to cool down from the heat. Another drop lands on your cheek, running down your chin.
You’re surprised to see clouds, and even more so that they’re dark storm clouds, the type that should’ve accompanied the lightning. You watch, bewildered because you can almost see each individual drop of water coming down at you. They’re darker than the clouds they’re coming from.
The rain starts slow, mostly catching on the trees above, maybe a drop here or there on your skin and jumpsuit. It begins to pick up, growing intense, as the leaves above can’t even protect you from the assault. You watch as the water lands on your palms, darkening the color.
That’s not right.
You shake your head, starting back to camp. This too, is Gamemaker engineered. It’s perfectly planned, right after a storm to make it seem innocent enough. If they’re trying to trick you into a false sense of security, it worked.
In the time it takes for you to join the others, the rain has reached its peak. You’re drenched, hair sticking to your face, jumpsuit becoming a second layer of skin, shoes squishing with every step. And the smell is overwhelmingly familiar. You can’t place your finger on it immediately.
“It’s not water!” You hear Johanna shout, “Beetee, get up!”
You wipe the thick liquid from your eyes, struggling to see through it. Even with your vision being clear, it doesn’t help much. You can hardly see a few feet in front of you at a single time. You follow the voices of your allies, who are beginning to panic.
“Where’s (Y/n)?” Beetee asks.
“I’m here!” You tell them, struggling to stay upright. The greenery has grown slick from the wetness.
“It’s blood!” Johanna shouts at you. “It’s not water, it’s blood!”
That’s what that nauseating smell is.
“We need to go, now!” Blight says.
You manage to stumble into the three of them, Johanna grabs a tight hold of you, dragging you to follow Blight. He heads uphill diagonally, you have to cover your eyes with your free hand in order to see him. With every swipe at your eyes, a stinging pain surfaces.
“Blight—?” Johanna calls, looking up. She gags a second later, stopping dead in her tracks to lean over and heave. She coughs out a mouthful of the blood.
You decide very quickly that your lips will be sealed from this moment forward. Johanna continues to pull you and Beetee in the direction that Blight had gone. You’ve lost him completely. It’s almost ten minutes later when a cannon blasts, and another five when you find Blight’s body, face down in the grass, unmoving.
The Gamemakers haven’t collected him yet because you three are too close. Your eyes dart around the scene, trying to find the source of his death. You can’t see any outward injuries, which is even more difficult to identify with the amount of blood being dumped from the clouds.
He was climbing the incline like you are now. Where he’s lying isn’t that far from the top of the hill. In the daylight, you’d agreed not to go down into the valley, wanting to keep fairly close to the Cornucopia. That was assuming there was a valley to explore, but now that you’re looking at it…
You yank Johanna by her own grasp, almost throwing her from the amount of force behind the move. She stumbles a step or two, taking Beetee down to the ground. You shake your head at her quickly, eyes wide.
There’s one more thing you found out during your training days, and it wasn’t anything about the tributes around you. It was about the Capitol, and how they found a much better way to hide things in plain sight. Beetee was the one to show it to you in the gymnasium, and it came with a warning.
Nothing is ever what it seems.
Blight ran into a force field, the force field that surrounds the entire arena. If you had to guess now, it’s in the shape of a dome. There is no valley, the force field just gives the appearance that there is one to fool tributes into walking into it. That’s exactly what happened here, with Blight trying to lead you to safety.
“What the—” Johanna begins, gagging.
“Force field!” You manage to yell at her through the drumming noise of blood on leaves.
Beetee raises his head, squinting through his glasses to see what you mean.
Johanna throws her head back, eyes closed, unmoving. You watch the blood run down her neck, maybe she’s trying to compose herself. She suddenly yanks Beetee to his feet, pulling you back down the way you came.
You think she’s trying to lead you to the beach, but at the pace you’re going, it could take all night. You keep getting your foot caught in roots, branches appearing out of thin air to make tiny cuts in your skin.
Right when it’s beginning to get hard to breathe, the rain stops suddenly.
Johanna lets go of you, letting you stumble a few steps before collapsing. You lean over your knees, taking deep breaths to resist the urge to vomit in the grass. You wipe the blood from your face the best you can, gathering handfuls and flinging it into the trees.
“Fuck.” Johanna says, her fingers are laced, hands on top of her head. She looks between you and Beetee.
“We should go down to the beach.” You tell her.
She scoffs, “That’s not happening.” She shakes her head, walking a couple steps away. You’re able to see Beetee, he’s more concerned about the wire than himself. “If the careers are down there, I won’t be able to protect all three of us against the four of them. That’s a stupid idea.”
“It’s stupid to stay here, too.” You tell her, “The Gamemakers did this.”
“So?” Johanna asks.
“They did the lightning too. Who’s to say they won’t do another?”
She’s not listening to you anymore. “I’ll take watch.”
—
The sound of distant screaming stops the three of you momentarily, peering to the right, as if you’ll be able to see through the trees to find the danger. The ground begins to tremble, Johanna has to grab Beetee with both of her hands to keep him from sinking to the floor.
He grew worse overnight, nothing the beach could’ve helped. He needs to have the wound on his back cleaned out, the blood rain from early this morning could carry a number of nasty diseases.
That’s why you’re heading there now. Johanna came to her senses, as soon as you woke up, she questioned you about your thoughts on the jungle versus the beach. You told her that the jungle offers concealment, of course, but no one’s going to be on the beach because everyone can see them, no matter where they stand.
And, once again, there’s a chance you could run across the other half of your allies on the beach. It’s worth the try.
“Come on, Volts.” Johanna grunts, jerking him. He follows her directions, but he’s dragging his feet. “I will drag you out of here by your feet.” She threatens.
“Don’t talk to him like that.” You snap at her. “He’s hurt, he can’t help it.”
“He wouldn’t be hurt if he didn’t go into the Cornucopia for that stupid wire.” She tells you, “So yes, he could help it. Either help me carry him or shut up.”
You glare at her, taking the other side of Beetee to help her bring him through the last bit of the jungle. You glance off to the right again, curious, and find a large wave cresting over the trees. Your heart skips a beat at the sight, wanting to turn and run in the other direction.
It doesn’t break its uniform shape, heading straight for the Cornucopia. You can kinda see the wave through the trees, joining the water in the center, and then skyrocketing. You throw your head back, watching it reach for the top of the dome, the force field, and then falling all at once.
“Gamemakers…” You murmur, eyebrows twitching in.
A cannon fires.
The beach is close enough for you to pick up the pace with Johanna, pulling Beetee with all the strength you have left. Once your feet hit the sand, it’s harder to pull him along. Beetee stops working with you altogether, falling forward, taking you and Johanna down with him.
Your hands and knees hit the sand, sticking to the bloody sweat on your hands. Johanna springs up, stomping her foot into the sand, letting out a frustrated scream through her teeth. You reach to touch Beetee’s temple, and find it warm.
“Johanna!” A voice shouts, you turn to look over your left shoulder, finding a figure running your way.
“Finnick!” Johanna laughs, relieved, “Finally!” She sends you a look, half a smile, “I guess you were right.”
You tilt your head. You want to tell her that you have a tendency to be right, but you decide to savor the moment. Maybe you and Johanna can end up being friends after this, no matter how unlikable her personality can be sometimes.
You get to your feet, brushing the sand from your knees. You take a step toward Beetee, prying the wire from his fingers to make it easier to flip him onto his back so he’s not breathing in the sand.
“Johanna.” Finnick breathes. He’s in nothing but his underwear, trident in hand. “We didn’t recognize you at first, covered in…” He swipes his finger across the skin on her arm, face scrunching when he finds out that it’s not liquid, it’s dried.
“It’s blood.” Johanna says, Finnick glances at you to see that you’re just as gross.
“Did you get into a fight?”
“No, it happened last night. We thought it was rain, you know, because of the lightning, and we were all so thirsty. But when it started coming down, turned out to be blood.” Johanna’s words are a blur, you didn’t realize she could talk so fast. “Thick, hot blood. You couldn’t see, you couldn’t speak without getting a mouthful. We just staggered around, trying to get out of it. That’s when Blight hit the force field.”
Katniss and Peeta have joined you, not dressed in anything but their underwear, either. Katniss is on guard with the bow in her hand, she must not feel threatened enough to need an arrow. You briefly meet Peeta’s eyes, he gives you a smile. The last time you talked to him was in the gymnasium, he came around while you were talking to the first aid specialist. He didn’t stay with you for long.
“I’m sorry, Johanna.” Finnick shakes his head.
“Yeah, well, he wasn’t much, but he was from home.” Her eyes land on you and Beetee. “And he left me alone with these two.” She nudges Beetee with the top of her shoe. “He got a knife in the back at the Cornucopia. And her—”
“Johanna.” You warn.
“She can’t stop talking about what happened with the twelve bongs last night.” She says, “Turns out that Nuts is nuts.”
You let out a breath, shaking your head. You’re not going to respond to her, you’re not going to let her antagonize you. You turn away, grabbing Beetee’s wire to move it into the treeline.
“Lay off her.” Katniss snaps.
You pause, turning to find Johanna glaring at Katniss. “Lay off her?” She hisses, stepping forward and slapping Katniss. Your mouth opens, and before you can speak, “Who do you think got them out of that bleeding jungle for you? You—”
Finnick strides toward Johanna, picking her up and tossing her over his shoulder. She squirms, still calling Katniss names, even after Finnick’s dropped her in the water, dunking her repeatedly beneath the surface.
“I’m sorry, Katniss.” You murmur, “She’s been on edge since Blight died last night.”
“It’s not your fault.” She tells you.
“I’m um, I’m going to clean up.”
You wade into the saltwater, watching the way it turns pink as the dried blood saturates. You dip your hands into the warm water, rubbing your hands free of the blood that you’ve had to deal with for the past couple of hours. The cuts on your hands begin to swing, but you don’t care.
You lower yourself into the water, using your nails to get it off better. It’s laid on so thickly in places, it comes off in chunks that you have to pick out. You scratch at your scalp, the blood turning into goop you squeeze out. Every time you think you come close to being done, you find more.
You pull off the purple belt, throwing it into the sand. You shed the jumpsuit, which has been stained from the blood as well. Here, you can see where the red is coming from. You rub the last of it off your skin, before making your way back to the beach. You’ll hang it up to dry.
You throw the jumpsuit onto a branch, and then turn around to see what the others are doing. Finnick and Johanna are still in the water, and it seems he’s managed to calm Johanna down. As for Katniss and Peeta, they’re bathing Beetee in the water, hopefully looking at his wound while they’re at it.
You start back to the water to join them, but not to help. They’ve got it handled so far, all you’ll do is get in the way. What you want to do is pick their brains about the jungle and what they experienced last night.
Peeta looks at you as you approach, once more offering a smile. “He’s in good hands.”
“I know.” You say, stopping a few feet behind them. “You’d never hurt him. I’ve actually got a few questions.”
What you need is for them to confirm the theory that you’ve had working since last night. You said that there is no coincidence when it comes to the Gamemakers, and that got you thinking after the blood rain. A sequence of events like that last night, one after the other… it’s not something they usually do.
First, it was the twelve bells, Blight said it was the beginning of the second day. What if it was for something else, though? The Capitol never exhausts all their tricks so quickly, because they want to keep unpredictability on their side. And that’s what happened, you didn’t think that they’d cause the lightning, and then the blood rain, and then presumably another event after.
There was another death last night, you were awake to hear the cannon. If you had to make an estimated time on when it happened, you’d say an hour after Blight’s death. You could chalk that all up to coincidence, or maybe the careers found a tribute, but that’s not what you’re considering.
“Sure.” Peeta says, Katniss gives you an apprehensive look.
“You three had Mags, didn’t you?” You ask. “Did you lose her sometime during the night?”
Peeta nods, “Yeah, we lost her during the fog.”
Your eyebrows raise, “The fog? What time did that happen?”
He shakes his head, “I don’t know. It was after that first cannon.”
You look at Katniss, “Were you awake?”
“Yes, I was watching the trees.”
You press your lips together, looking up and at the cornucopia. They’re not giving you much to work with. You clear your throat, “Katniss, how far away would you say you were to the lightning?”
When you look down at her, she’s thinking.
You motion to one of the wedges. “One of these sections over, two…?”
“Two, I guess.”
“And did you hear rain?”
Katniss nods, “Yeah, I was waiting for it to come to us, but it never did.”
“Did anything happen after the rain stopped?”
“The fog started.”
Your lips twitch, corners of your mouth turning up into a smile. You look up at the wedge you came from this afternoon, and then one over to the left to see the tree the lightning struck last night.
Lightning, rain, fog.
“The section you were just in, did anything happen?” You look between Katniss and Peeta.
“Monkey mutts.” Peeta says, “They appeared out of nowhere and kept multiplying. They um… they killed the woman from Six.”
You nod, backing away from them. “Thanks.”
The moment you have your back to them, you let out a quiet laugh. You’ve figured it out. It was fairly obvious last night, but with Katniss and Peeta’s help, it’s put the pieces together.
The arena works like a clock.
That’s the importance of the twelve, why the cornucopia is divided up so specifically. The bells last night were because it was midnight. The lightning started, lasted the entirety of the hour, and then the rain started. It didn’t reach you right away because it started off at the top of the hill and made its way down. When the hour was up, that’s when the fog started. And then the mutts in the section over when your allies successfully escaped the fog.
You should say something to them, but not before your suspicions are confirmed. If you’re right, then the lightning should happen again at noon. The tidal wave that killed the girl a few sections over wasn’t too long ago. It’s gotta be anywhere between ten to eleven right now. You have an hour to go.
You sit in the treeline next to Beetee’s wire, watching as Johanna and Finnick wade out, coming in your direction.
“Are you thirsty?” Finnick asks, “Hungry?”
“Sure.” You smile, “I’ll take some water, more than anything.”
“Not before me.” Johanna says, coming to sit nearby.
“I’ll be back.” Finnick laughs, heading down the beach.
When you officially agreed to join the alliance that Haymitch organized, you were surprised to find out that Finnick was part of it. In all honesty, you thought that he might have been more inclined to stay with Cashmere, Gloss, Enobaria and Brutus, considering they hold the same status.
They’re very popular victors. Well, not so much Brutus anymore, but the other three won a little more than ten years ago. With them being back-to-back career wins, it was easy to see why the Capitol took such a good liking to them. Finnick was probably the best victor to end that streak on, since he set a new record for the youngest tribute to ever win. That, and the trident he received in the arena was expensive.
In a way, though, Finnick has never been on the same page as Gloss and Enobaria. You picked up on it when you started mentoring for Wiress after your victory. At first glance, he seems like he fits in. He does go out with them to have drinks often, it just takes some convincing.
You’ve heard him talk about his riches, how it started with clothes, gifts, gems, money, and turned into something more. He never elaborates beyond that point, leading you to believe that either there isn’t anything more, or it’s so important that he can’t afford to give it away.
It’s obvious that he prefers people that are more down to earth and sensible—like Johanna, his best friend.. Cashmere, Gloss and Enobaria feed into the Capitol, they wholeheartedly embrace every aspect of it. They let the Capitol change and shape them into the figure they want, because it’ll keep them in the spotlight longer.
As for Finnick, you think he’s been trying to escape it since they latched onto him. It’s hard for them to let go. They thought he was attractive when he was young, and he’s grown into his face over time. He’s a fly stuck in a spiderweb, he’ll be lucky if he wiggles out before his looks wear out.
This is why he joined the alliance, you’re sure. It’s the same conclusion you came to before. If there are no Hunger Games, there is no reason to return to the Capitol every summer, then that means he’s finally set free. It’s the same reason the rest of you were sucked in. It’s a shame that he had to lose his mentor in the process too, though.
Finnick comes back down the beach, bearing several items in his hands. He throws down a woven mat, which Katniss and Peeta immediately work to get Beetee onto to rest. He carefully works a metal object into a tree, and with gentle tweaking, it begins to pour water, which he collects into a bowl he seems to have made, too.
Johanna drinks two full bowls before allowing you to have one. The two of you split the rest of the shellfish, which Finnick insists for you to finish, because they’re done eating. When he can’t stand the silence any longer, he begins to tell you about the long night they experienced last night.
They woke up in the middle of the night, alarmed at Katniss’ tone. Finnick carried Mags down the hill most of the way. The fog was sweet smelling and corrosive, that’s why they don’t have jumpsuits anymore. When it touched their skin, it had a paralyzing effect.
Finnick doesn’t explicitly say what happened to Mags, but you read between the lines, and Johanna doesn’t ask either. When he stops speaking about her, you catch on. Finnick and Katniss had to bring Peeta down the rest of the hill, because Peeta wasn’t at his best. He ran into the forcefield earlier in the day, and Finnick was able to bring him back.
Apparently, the fog corralled them to the bottom, where they tripped and tumbled down the rest of the way. They were sure the fog was going to kill them, until it stopped, creeping upward into the air, as if it had hit the wall.
“What do you mean?” You ask, sitting up.
Finnick shakes his head, Katniss speaks. “It was like we were out of reach.”
You hum.
This follows your theory; the threats have to stay within their wedges. If it goes out, then it breaks the rules that the Gamemakers created for the Quell. It wouldn’t work like a clock anymore. That’s why the wave an hour ago didn’t come in your direction, it hit the cornucopia and evenly dispersed into each section. Effectively resetting the beach.
Finnick goes on to tell you how the monkey mutts were orange, and didn’t seem to be worried about him and Katniss. However, the moment that Peeta made eye contact with one of them, they went berserk. They kept attacking, and appeared never-ending. They didn’t stop until the woman from Six got injured. Katniss and Peeta brought her out to the water, where they kept her company while she passed.
Finnick tells you that the mutts vanished into the vines and bushes, like they were being pulled in. When he tried to investigate, he didn’t find any evidence that they were ever there. Just their weapons left behind.
“Interesting.” You murmur.
This makes you wonder if the blood from the rain last night is also gone.
“Interesting how?” Finnick asks, watching you carefully.
You meet his eyes, shaking your head. “Nothing.”
He squints at you, letting you know that he’s not going to forget. “Well, if any of you want to sleep, I can take watch.”
“Or I could.” Katniss says, “I’m rested.”
“Well, I’m not going to sleep.” Johanna says.
You and Peeta look at each other. He shrugs.
“I’ll sleep.” He says, moving to lay in the shade.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Finnick asks Katniss, she nods. “Then I guess I’ll sleep too. Wake me if either of you get tired.”
“What about you?” Johanna asks you.
You press your lips together, “I’m going to stay awake, I’ll just sit back here.”
“You should sleep.” Johanna tells you.
You get up, ignoring what she has to say. You find a place next to Finnick and Beetee, pluck a large leaf off of a fern, and begin to pick it apart. You all sit in silence, allowing Finnick and Peeta to settle enough to fall asleep.
It’s got to be thirty minutes before Johanna turns her head to look at Finnick, and then back at Katniss. “How’d you lose Mags?”
“In the fog. Finnick had Peeta. I had Mags for a while. Then I couldn’t lift her. Finnick said he couldn’t take them both. She kissed him and walked right into the poison.” Katniss says.
“She was Finnick’s mentor, you know,” Johanna says.
“No, I didn’t.”
Johanna doesn’t say anything for a few moments, “She was half his family.”
When Katniss doesn’t respond, Johanna finally agrees to lay down to try and get herself some sleep. She picks the open spot between you and Finnick, and doesn’t speak another word. You can pinpoint the exact second she slips into unconsciousness, because her whole body relaxes and she lets out a content sigh.
“Did you sleep last night?” Katniss asks, looking over her shoulder slightly to see you.
“Some.” You murmur.
“Aren’t you tired?”
“Not enough.”
She catches the hint with your short replies, not pushing it any further. Neither of you speak, watching the sun rise higher in the sky. You pick at your nails, unable to sit still while the anticipation builds. If you’re right, this could change everything. This will give you the advantage, a step in the right direction on how to get out of here.
And then, a flash of light as the lightning hits the same tree it repeatedly struck last night.
You get to your feet, a smile spreading over your face as you inch forward into the sun. You can’t contain the laughter that spills from your lips, hand covering your mouth to keep from being too loud.
“Twelve.” You say.
“What?” Katniss asks, “What are you laughing at?”
“It’s noon.” You giggle, turning around to look at her. “Get the others up, I have something to tell them.”
There must be something about your demeanor that keeps her from questioning you any further. She takes her time shaking Peeta, Finnick and Johanna awake. The entire time, you don’t move your eyes from the lightning tree. Your allies are not very happy when they wake and see that there’s no danger.
You don’t care, turning to look at them. “I figured it out. I would’ve told you sooner, but I had to be sure.”
“Be sure about what?’ Peeta asks, rubbing the sand from his face.
“The arena,” you say, “It works like a clock.”
For the first few minutes, you’re met with skepticism, which you were heavily prepared for. As you meet their questions with answers and more information, they begin to open up to the idea.
“You told me all I needed to know.” You look between Katniss and Peeta. “I just had to be sure that the lightning struck again before I presented the facts.”
Finnick’s on his feet, collecting his belongings, “You are a genius, (Y/n). I would never have thought about that.”
“Well…”
“Seriously.” He says. “You got that all from a couple of hours? It could’ve taken us days.”
You press your lips together into a smile, “Thanks.”
“We have to move.” Katniss says, “If she’s right, then we’re way too close to the fog and monkeys. We should move further down the beach.”
“Works for me.” Peeta agrees.
While they make sure they have everything, you grab your jumpsuit down from the branch, finding that it's almost entirely dry by now. You pull it on, Finnick zips up the back. As for the belt, you offer it to Peeta, who has turned his attention to Beetee.
“He needs it more than I do in the water.”
“Are you sure?” Peeta asks, taking it from you.
“I can swim.”
You watch as Peeta tries to get Beetee up, but he objects. “Wire.”
Peeta looks over his shoulder, shaking his head at you, “I don’t…”
“Wire.” Beetee insists.
“Oh, I know what he wants,” Johanna says. She fishes the cylinder of wire out of the sand. It’s still covered in a thick layer of blood, no one has bothered to wash it since you got here. “This worthless thing. It’s some kind of wire or something. That’s how he got cut. Running up to the Cornucopia to get this. I don’t know what kind of weapon it’s supposed to be. I guess you could pull off a piece and use it as a garrote or something. But really, can you imagine Beetee garroting somebody?”
“He won his Games with wire. Setting up that electrical trap.” Peeta says. They must have done their research, trying to prepare ahead of time for the victor’s they’ll be facing. “It’s the best weapon he could have.”
Katniss turns her head to the side slightly. “Seems like you’d have that figured out,” she says, “Since you nicknamed him Volts and all.”
Johanna’s eyes narrow. “Yeah, that was really stupid of me, wasn’t it?” She asks, “I guess I must have been distracted by keeping your little friends alive. While you were… what, again? Getting Mags killed off?”
Katniss reaches for the knife on her belt.
“Go ahead. Try it. I don’t care if you are knocked up, I’ll rip your throat out.”
You shuffle away from them, sharing a look with Finnick. You clear your throat to speak, but he beats you to it. “Maybe we all had better be careful where we step.” Finnick looks at Katniss. He then takes the coil of wire and sets it on Beetee’s chest. “There’s your wire, Volts. Watch where you plug it.”
When Peeta goes to lift Beetee, he doesn’t resist. “Where to?”
“I’d like to go to the Cornucopia and watch. Just to make sure we’re right about the clock.” Finnick says. “No offense, of course, (Y/n).”
“Better safe than sorry.” You agree.
“Right. And that’s why I won’t be taking my eyes off of you, either,” He tells you, raising his eyebrows. “With Beetee being down, you’ve got to figure out a way to take out the careers. Are you up to it?”
You nod, pulling on the tips of your fingers. This shouldn’t be very hard. The four of them could put up a pretty good fight against the careers all on their own. Johanna and Finnick would want to play it closer to the safe side, to not put Katniss and Peeta directly in the path of the careers. You need the Twelve tributes to come out of this arena alive.
“I can see the gears turning already.” Finnick laughs.
Johanna starts her way down the beach and onto the nearest sand strip that’ll lead you to the Cornucopia. Finnick is the next to go up, insisting to stay in front of you in case the careers are hiding inside and haven’t shown themselves quite yet. Peeta and Katniss follow behind you.
“If you could figure this out, what other tricks do you have up your sleeve?” Finnick asks, glancing at you.
You let out a laugh, shaking your head. “Not much.”
“I don’t believe that.”
The golden Cornucopia shines brightly in the sun, as you get closer, you see that it provides a good amount of shade for you to rest in. It’s empty, no sign of the careers, or that they’ve been here recently. The weapons that lie around on the black rock are picked over, only the unusual ones are left.
“Set me by the water, will you?” Beetee asks Peeta, “I’d like to clean it.”
As he begins to dunk the wire into the water to clear it of blood, you wander around the side of the Cornucopia. The lightning stopped almost an hour ago, which means that at any moment…
“What are you doing?” Finnick asks, appearing beside you.
“Looking for signs.” You tell him.
“What time do you think it is?” He asks, leaning over your shoulder. “Blood rain?”
You squint at him, “No, we’re past that. It should be fog.” You take a step away from him. “Do you always stand this close?”
“I can’t let you out of my sight.”
“I guess an arm’s length distance is too much to ask for?” You muse.
“Entirely.” He agrees.
You grind your teeth, trying to seem annoyed while you wait for the warmth to leave your face. It doesn’t help that he’s half-naked, like he was during the Tribute Parade this year. You’re sure the Capitol is enjoying every second of this, and he is too.
Your eyes find the jungle again, and you straighten, “There.”
This seems to catch the other’s attention. “Yes, look, (Y/n) is right. It’s two o’clock and the fog has started.” Katniss says.
“Like clockwork.” Peeta says, “You’re amazing to have figured that out, (Y/n).”
“It’s really—”
“No, he’s right.” Katniss agrees.
Finnick nudges your shoulder.
“Oh, she’s more than smart.” Beetee says, pausing what he’s doing with the wire. “She’s intuitive. She can sense things before anyone else. Like a canary in one of your coal mines.”
You can feel your face begin to grow warm again.
“What’s that?” Finnick asks Katniss.
“It’s a bird that we take down into the mines to warn us if there’s bad air.”
“What’s it do, die?” Johanna asks.
“It stops singing first. That’s when you should get out. But if the air’s too bad, it dies, yes. And so do you.” Katniss says.
“So, you have been lying to me.” Finnick murmurs in your ear.
You push him off of you. “I’m not sure Beetee’s right. He’s just saying that.”
“Whatever you say.”
Johanna goes inside of the Cornucopia, throwing the axe that she’s been using since yesterday. Your eyebrows twitch, curious on why she’d abandon the one weapon that she knows like the back of her hand, until she emerges with a pair of better looking axes. The one she had before must’ve been nothing more than a hatchet.
Finnick leaves your side to briefly join Katniss, who’s reloading on her stock of arrows, which is a good idea. Finnick goes all the way to the back, before coming out with a knife. He turns it in his hand, blade in his palm, handle in your direction.
“You need something to defend yourself with.” He motions for you to take it. You carefully pull it out of his hand.
“I thought you were keeping a close eye on me.”
“In the case of an emergency.” He tells you.
While the rest of you have been wandering around, Peeta has begun to draw a map of the arena onto a large leaf from the jungle with his knife. In the center is the Cornucopia, with the twelve strips of sand branching out from it. There’s another outer circle representing the waterline, and a slightly bigger one indicating the edge of the jungle.
“Look how the Cornucopia’s positioned.” Peeta says to Katniss.
She examines the map to see what he means. “The tail points toward twelve o’clock.”
“Right, so this is the top of our clock.” He says, and then scratches the numbers one through twelve around the map in the order of a clock. “Twelve to one is the lightning zone.” He then goes on to write lightning in the corresponding wedge, working clockwise adding blood, fog, and monkeys in the appropriate sections.
“And ten to eleven is the wave.” Katniss says, he adds it.
Finnick and Johanna come to join the three of you, fully armed with tridents, axes and knives.
“Did you notice anything unusual in the others?” Katniss asks you and Johanna. You shake your head. “I guess they could hold anything.”
“I’m going to make the ones where we know the Gamemakers’ weapon follows us out past the jungle, so we’ll stay clear of those.” Peeta says, drawing diagonal lines on the fog and wave beaches. He then sits back. “Well, it’s a lot more than we knew this morning, anyway.”
You look up, going to check on Beetee to see if he’s made any progress on the wire. Your heart drops in your chest at the sight of a dripping-wet Gloss behind him, Beetee slipping out of his hands, his throat slit wide open.
Katniss sees this too, working quickly to kill him. The tip of her arrow lodges into his right temple.
“No!” You scream, jerking toward him.
A pair of arms grabs you from behind, turning and throwing you into the cornucopia, making you scratch the palms of your hands and your knees on the black rock. When you turn around, Johanna has buried an axe blade in Cashmere’s chest. Finnick has just blocked a spear from hitting Peeta, taking the knife that was aimed your way from Enobaria, into his thigh as well.
Three cannons sound, one after the other. The Two tributes have begun to retreat, realizing that half their alliance is dead. Katniss starts to run after them, not letting this go. Johanna follows after her, and you struggle to get to your feet.
The wire, you need it. You have an idea.
Finnick has turned his attention to the knife, letting you slip past him and begin to wobble to the edge of the island, when the ground suddenly moves to the right. You slam into the rock, as it begins to spin, slowly at first but picking up speed with no sign of slowing.
“(Y/n)!” Finnick shouts at you.
You stick your fingers and toes into the crevices in the rock, hiding your face in your shoulder as the sand on the island flies down from the top, to the water below. You grit your teeth, fighting the nausea that begins to arise.
The weapons are just starting to fly out of the Cornucopia, when the land slams to a stop without slowing. You lift your head, finding that Finnick has a tight grip on your wrist, wide-eyed.
“Are you okay?”
You nod, he helps you get to your feet. The knife that was in his thigh is now gone, and he’s bleeding. If it hurts, he doesn’t show it, limping to get Peeta to his feet, as well. Katniss is coughing, Johanna spitting the sand out of her mouth.
They sit to catch their breath, but you can’t. The bodies have been tossed into the water, and if that’s the case, the wire is out there too. Beetee might have it, or it might have sunk to the bottom already.
“(Y/n), sit.” Finnick tells you.
“I need the wire.” Your eyes searching the water.
“Oh good, Beetee’s spirit lives on in Nuts.” Johanna mutters.
You find Beetee floating on his back, the wire sitting directly on his chest. You point at it, and when no one comes, you drop the knife that Finnick gave you, preparing to jump into the water.
“Stop.” Finnick pushes you back, “Stay here.”
The water begins to dip and spray, the two of you look up to see the hovercraft. Finnick drops the trident in his hand, racing down the strip of sand nearest to Beetee’s body. You watch as he dives, and cuts through the water in the matter of seconds. The claw has been released to collect his body, when Finnick pulls the wire from his hands.
Finnick swims back to the sand, and as he’s pulling himself up, the hovercraft is fading into thin air, blending in with the sky. He walks toward you, the spool of wire is as clean as it was yesterday, before the rain had come. You hold your hands out for the wire, and he drops it in your hands.
“Thank you.” You look at him.
He collects the trident and your knife from the rock. “I’m sorry about Beetee.”
You nod, “I am too.”
The two of you go back to the others, where Johanna gets to her feet almost instantly. “Let’s get off this stinking island.”
“Let me patch Finnick’s leg first.” You tell her, “And then we can go.”
You spend the next ten minutes looking through boxes with Peeta and Katniss, where you find limited supplies. It’s better than nothing, and Katniss offers her ointment for you to use.
You place Finnick on a box, while you crouch in front of him. His leg had been washed out from the seawater when he jumped in, you’re sure that had to hurt. You finger the ointment into the wound. He grunts, gripping onto the sides of the box, refusing to take his eyes off of you for a second.
You place the bandage on top, having him lift his leg high enough for you to wrap it tightly to keep it from coming loose. It’s not your best work, but it’s what you had to work with.
“You should be good, now.”
It’s decided that you’ll go to the beach at twelve, since that hour won’t come around again for a while. Peeta, Johanna and Finnick head off in three different directions.
“Twelve o’clock, right?” Peeta asks. “The tail points at twelve.”
“Before they spun us,” Finnick says. “I was judging by the sun.”
“The sun only tells you it’s going on four, Finnick.” Katniss tells him.
A few eyes slide onto you. You swallow, looking into the jungle. “I hate to say it, but there’s a good possibility they shifted the outer ring of the jungle, too. What’s stopping them?”
Katniss nods. “So any one of these paths could lead to twelve o’clock.”
They wander around the Cornucopia, trying to see if there’s anything that’s out of place. This is when you see that each section of the jungle has their own giant tree. Johanna suggests to follow the Two tribute’s tracks, except they have been blown or washed away. There is nothing to go off of anymore.
“Maybe we should’ve kept quiet about the clock.” Katniss says. “Now they’ve taken that advantage away.”
“Only temporarily.” You tell her. “At ten, we’ll see the wave again and be back on track.”
“Yes, they can’t redesign the whole arena.” Peeta agrees.
“It doesn’t matter,” Johanna sighs impatiently. “Nuts had to tell us or we never would have moved our camp in the first place, brainless.” She squints at you briefly. “Come on, I need water. Anyone have a good gut feeling?”
You let them randomly decide a path. You follow Finnick quietly, adjusting the spool in your hand, looking out into the water. Beetee must have had some idea with this, too. If only he had let you in on his thoughts, they were likely better than anything that you’re coming up with right now.
The most obvious is that you use it the same way he had, by leading the careers to the center somehow and electrocuting them to death. The only way that would be possible is if the wire were wet on one end and the other had something to jumpstart it. There’s not many options for that, beside the metal plates you came up to the surface on.
To get inside of those could take forever, and you’d be exposed. You’d have to get out into the water and on a plate to remove it. That’s assuming it’s possible and you don’t blow yourself sky-high. Then what? You’d have to lure the careers down to the beach, which still isn’t wet… you could use the explosives from the plates, but you don’t know how much damage that’d do anyway.
You guess you could just set a plate beneath the sand, and when the careers step on it, it’ll kill them. That’s if they step on it if they go for the trap, which would have to be the group of you, or better yet, Katniss and Peeta, because they’re the main concern after their scores.
It’d have to be timed perfectly, too. If you set the explosives up before ten, but the careers don’t fall for it until after, it’ll be set off by the tidal wave. Then the beach’s sand won’t be able to hide the plates because it’ll be wet…
You gasp.
“What?” Finnick asks, “You can’t just do that.”
“I have an idea.” You tell him. “I think I know how we can kill the Two tributes.”
Finnick grins, throwing his arm around your shoulders as soon as your feet hit the sandy beach. “I knew you’d figure something out!”
#ilguna#finnick odair#finnick odair imagine#finnick odair fanfic#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair oneshot#finnick odair x you#finnick odair x yn#finnick odair x y/n#finnick imagine#finnick fanfic#finnick x reader#finnick oneshot#finnick x you#finnick x yn#finnick x y/n#thg#the hunger games#fluff#requested
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Could I please get #1 from the 2nd list with finnick? Maybe it could be him leaving his SO in 13 while he goes to the capitol but this time he lives?
☼ broken promise (Finnick Odair) ☼
warnings; swearing, death, death mention, ehh gore, gun use.
wc; 2.6k
prompt; 1. "Just close your eyes. I will be here when you open them again."
—
A scream lodges in your throat, waking you, rocketing you into an upright position so that you can breathe. With one hand, you grab your throat, gasping for the air that’s been deprived of you, heart beating wildly in your chest. The other is reaching out to his side of the bed to make sure that he’s still there, that he hasn’t left you like the nightmare led you to believe.
Your fingers come into contact with his thigh, you slide your hand over his skin, fingers slowly digging in. You close your eyes, and try to remind yourself that it wasn’t real, and Finnick’s not going to slip through your fingers. He’s here, he’s right next to you.
“(Y/n)?”
You look over at Finnick, finding his eyes on you. His head is turned over his shoulder, one eye closed and the other one barely open to keep himself awake. You loosen your grip on his leg, most likely the cause of his wake.
“Sorry, Finn.” You murmur.
“What’s the matter?” He mumbles, beginning to roll over to face you.
“I’m fine.” You brush his hair out of his face. It’s getting long, he hasn’t cut it since the reaping.
“You’re not.” He says, voice raspy but sounding more awake. He grabs your arm, tugging at it slightly. “Come here.”
“It was just a nightmare, Finnick.” You tell him.
“I don’t care.” He says, pulling again.
You sigh, but scoot down in the bed, anyway. Finnick lifts the blanket up, arms out to make it easier for you to lay in them. He’s got his eyes closed, waiting for you. As soon as you’re as close as humanly possible, he drops the blanket and pulls you closer, chin on top of your head.
He’s warm, the exhaustion returns to your body slowly. It’s one of the curses of sleeping in the same bed as him. There will be times where he’s tired and needs a nap, but you’re fully rested. He’ll force you to cuddle him, and the next thing you know, the whole day has been wasted away because his body heat has made you drowsy.
However, this time, it’s different. It doesn’t take long for you to get to the brink of sleep, yet you never fall over the edge fully. Each time Finnick adjusts, you’re jolted awake. There’s something keeping you from reaching bliss, and you know exactly what it is.
How are you supposed to sleep when you’re afraid that Finnick’s going to join that stupid Capitol mission? You heard him talking about it with Haymitch a few days ago, and when you asked about it, Finnick told you that it was nothing to worry about. Except, you’re not that stupid.
You might have been caught up in your own problems here in District Thirteen, but that doesn’t mean you hadn’t noticed his schedule changed a couple weeks ago. He’s not where he’s supposed to be during the day. You did a little prying, some sneaking around, collected the clues and had it put together by his own best friend.
Johanna admitted to you that they had been training the entire time. They found out about a rebel mission to storm the Capitol and seize President Snow’s mansion. It turns out that Finnick isn’t the only one that has been getting ready for this. Katniss, Johanna and Gale have been, too.
Only, Johanna can’t go because she failed the final test. Finnick passed.
You didn’t know how to react to the information she told you, besides standing there and staring into her eyes. She knows how much Finnick means to you—what the two of you have been through to get to this point. She didn’t think, throughout all these weeks, that it might’ve been smart to give you a head’s up that your fiance would be leaving on a suicide mission?
Is he ever going to tell you, himself?
Johanna knew you were mad, and she didn’t have any defense. She simply told you that she had advised Finnick to let you in on it, but the conversation never went on any further than that. Since then, you’ve been waiting for him to tell you. Especially since the hovercraft should be leaving any day now.
“You’re not sleeping.” Finnick suddenly mutters, you jerk slightly at the sound of his voice. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it, my love?”
You press your lips together. “Promise me you’re not going to leave me, Finnick.”
“What makes you think that I’d leave you?” He asks, pulling you closer into his body. “I would never want that.”
“That’s not what I mean.” You whisper. “I want you to promise that you’re not going to leave this bunker to go on that mission, Finnick. And then I want you to keep it.”
“I promise I’m not going to go on the mission.” He says without hesitating. You can feel his fingers combing through your hair. “Just close your eyes, baby. I will be here when you open them again.”
The heavy feeling in your chest keeps you from believing him.
–
You cross your arms over your chest, teeth tightly grit together to keep from saying anything that might get you in trouble. Although, no words need to be said. The hard glare you’re giving Haymitch speaks a thousand words.
“Oh, (Y/n), what a pleasure.” Plutarch says, coming through an adjacent door. Behind him is President Coin, hair neatly straightened, eyes landing on you when Plutarch moves out of the way. “How are you?”
You give him a sarcastic smile. “The pleasure is all mine, Plutarch, really. It’s always fantastic to be around you. You simply have the best and most charming personality in this entire cement coffin, you know that?”
“(Y/n).” Haymitch warns.
“And I’m doing great, actually. I would be doing better if someone explained to me why the hell my fiance was allowed to get on a hovercraft to District Two.”
“I don’t believe you have clearance to be in here.” Coin says, coming down the steps.
“I should.” You tell her. “I don’t see a reason why you’d want to keep me out of here. Oh right, how else would you then go behind my back after everything I’ve done for you?”
“Who let you in this room?” Coin asks.
“I did.” Haymitch says. “She’s got a point. Why was Finnick allowed to train and she wasn’t?”
“That’s because Katniss and Johanna found out about the program we have, and then told Finnick about it. We didn’t have anything to do with him joining.” Coin stops a few feet away from you. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave, Miss (L/n).”
“And it didn’t occur to you once to let me in on something like that?” You ask her, not moving from where your feet are planted.
“If it helps any, Peeta wasn’t allowed to, either.” Plutarch says.
You press your lips together into an angry smile. “No, that doesn’t help.”
“We can’t do anything for you.” Coin has her hand outstretched toward the door.
Your jaw goes slack. “Is that right?” She doesn’t say anything. “Get Finnick Odair on the next hovercraft back here, now.”
“That’s not possible, (Y/n), and there’s no need to.” Plutarch tells you. “Finnick is part of a group called the Star Squad. They’ve already traveled to the main camp outside of the Capitol, it’ll take a full day for him to get back to District Two. Their jobs aren’t to fight, though, they’ll be traveling behind the main rebel lines. They won’t be put into any direct danger.”
“You better hope not.” You tell Plutarch. “If anything happens to him, I’ll make sure it haunts you for the rest of your fucking life.”
—
“Let me see!” You shout, slamming through the Command room’s doors. “I want to see it for myself!”
Several heads swivel in your direction, daring to remove their eyes from the screen in front of them to see who’s intruding. When they’re met with you, they look away, uninterested.
No one makes a move to escort you out of the room, despite the fact that Coin made it very clear that you weren’t going to be allowed into Command ever again. The doors swing shut behind you, locking you inside.
You drag your feet forward a couple of steps, watching a replay of what’s just taken place in the Capitol. It’s a video of the Star Squad, the group that you were told wouldn’t be put into any danger. There’s a voiceover from the Capitol, explaining to you what’s happening.
They had been trying to film a propo, when they set off a bomb in the middle of the colorful apartment’s courtyard. It blows off the squad leader’s legs, and you watch as they all scramble to regroup, and descend into chaos when black gel shoots from the street.
They make a run for it, trying to get into an apartment before the oil gets to them. A previously level-headed Peeta turns rabid, trying to kill Katniss. One of the trained squad members tries to save her, and in return, he gets kicked into another pod, where barbed wire strings him up above the street.
From there, it takes two people to get a hold of Peeta, where they drag him inside. You catch sight of Finnick, carrying someone over his shoulder, alive. Then, everyone else files in, except for Gale, who tries to shoot the soldier down from the wire. This is the last glimpse you get of the situation, before the camera goes black.
The Capitol reporter is able to identify Gale, Finnick, Peeta, Cressida, Katniss and a man named Boggs, by first name.
You watch in horror as the next clip begins to play. Peacekeepers line up on the roof of the building across from the one the squad ran into. Bombs are launched into the row of apartments, setting off a chain of explosions, and then the building collapses in on itself.
You can feel your heart drop.
It cuts away to a reporter, standing on the same roof the Peacekeepers were. Behind her, the apartment building is aflame. The firefighters work hard to control the flames. The reporter pronounces each person that was inside of that building, dead.
“Oh my god.” You breathe, hand clutching at your chest, beginning to hyperventilate.
They play this scene over and over, proud of their victory. The only time they stop is when a montage of Katniss begins. They talk of her rise to rebel power, and then proceed to tear her down, claiming that she deserved such a violent end.
The room begins to spin around you, an icy feeling spreads from your head down your chest and back, reaching for your legs. You try to hold back the tears that build in your eyes, but once the first one falls, it’s over. A loud sob escapes you as you take a step forward toward the screen.
You quickly change direction, stumbling to a desk with a computer and keyboard on it. You’re barely able to pull the trash can out from underneath it, before you’re vomiting up your entire breakfast and lunch. You can’t breathe. Between the hyperventilating, the tears, and the puke, you struggle to get more than a breath of air in you at a single time.
You sink to your knees, hands coming into contact with the cold cement. You cry for a few seconds, until it dissolves into a coughing fit, that has you gagging.
He’s dead. Your fiance is dead, and it’s been less than a week since he left for the Capitol.
The doors to Command open behind you. The sounds of boots scuffing on the ground is hardly audible over your sniffling. You tilt your head back, letting the tears roll down your chin, to your neck.
“(Y/n).” Someone says, coming to crouch next to you. A hand is placed on your back, between your shoulders, rubbing gently. You think it’s Haymitch. “You have to get out before Coin gets here.”
“I don’t care.” You whimper, “Let her. It doesn’t matter anymore. None of it matters to me without him.”
—
Finnick survived.
He’s in the Capitol, waiting for your hovercraft to land so that he can be the first person you see when you step off. From what you’ve heard, he’s not even significantly hurt from his time navigating the streets and the sewers.
When they had first told you that he wasn’t dead and he’d successfully made it to the mansion alongside Katniss, about twelve hours ago, you thought they were playing a cruel joke on you. It wasn’t until they pulled up pictures of him in the aftermath, helping navigate the wounded around him, did you believe them.
There was no question about it, Coin didn’t even bother to put up a fight against you. You, Johanna and Haymitch were put on the first hovercraft that would be traveling to the Capitol. And you haven’t been able to sit still in your seat the entire time. It’s driven Johanna crazy enough to have Haymitch switch seats with her.
You reach for your engagement ring, twisting it on your finger. You should be landing any minute now. It’s only been a week or so since Finnick left you in Thirteen, but it’s felt like months. You went from having him, to losing him, and getting him back only a couple days later.
The hovercraft jerks suddenly as you land. Your fingers fly to the belt they advised for you to have on during the landing. You pull it off, getting to your feet. The pilots shout for you to stay back while they open the rear door. Nothing happens for the longest second, and then the door begins to creak and groan, sunlight flooding in through the cracks.
You start forward, eyes adjusting to the sunlight. When it’s about halfway down, you’re able to get your first glimpse of the hovercraft runway, and the people coming toward you. His bronze hair is shining in the sunlight, and he’s changed into street clothes, instead of wearing the bulky armor that he’d been pictured in.
The second the door touches the concrete, and the pilots tell you it’s safe to leave, you’re out the door and running in his direction. The people he’s with move away, expecting a large impact, while Finnick opens his arms widely, ready to embrace everything you have for him.
You slam into his body, feeling his arms wrap around you, pulling you against him so tightly, that you’re sure you’ll become one person. Finnick presses kisses on your forehead, temple, cheek, neck—anywhere he can touch skin. When you tilt your head back, he seizes your lips in a long kiss, that you have to force yourself to break apart from.
His face twists, eyebrows drawn in, about to ask you why you’ve pulled away like that, but you’ve already grabbed a hold of the front of his shirt, beginning to shake him. He grabs your arms, eyes widening.
“If you ever do that to me again, Finnick, I’ll leave you!” You shout at him, jerking his shoulders. “Do you understand? I will leave and never come back!”
“I’m so sorry, (Y/n).” Finnick says, holding onto you. “I’m so—”
“How could you do that to me?” You sob, “You could’ve died!”
“I know.” He tells you, “It won’t happen again, honey. I promise you. And I’m going to keep it this time.”
You cup his face, pressing your lips to his.
#ilguna#finnick odair#finnick odair imagine#finnick odair fanfic#finnick odair oneshot#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair x you#finnick odair x y/n#finnick odair x yn#finnick imagine#finnick fanfic#finnick x reader#finnick oneshot#finnick x you#finnick x yn#finnick x y/n#thg#the hunger games#anon#ask#request#3k celebration#angst
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Hi again this is from the supply run. Could you please do #17 from aisle 1 and # 22 from aisle 2 with finnick? Thank you! 🎉 -🪐
☼ only friends (Finnick Odair) ☼
warnings; swearing, gore, blood mention, death, death mention.
wc; 5.7k
prompt; 17. denying their relationship strongly. 22. "They won't take you away from me ever again."
—
“Tomorrow morning, when we pull Katniss Everdeen’s body from the ashes, we will see exactly who the Mockingjay is. A dead girl who could save no one, not even herself.” Snow’s voice is haunting as he gives the final word. The Capitol seal replaces his face, the anthem plays, and the television shuts off.
“Except that you won’t find her.” Finnick says to the empty screen, turning his head to glance at you.
The Peacekeeper’s that will be sent to retrieve the bodies tomorrow will be missing twelve of them, actually. All they’ll come across is Boggs and one of the Leeg sisters. The rest of you made it out safely.
“We can get a head start on them at least.” Katniss says, pulling out the Holo. She moves closer to Jackson, listening to a set of directions on how to work the device. She manages to get the coordinates in, and a projection of the surrounding streets fills the air.
The silence is suffocating as you watch all the different colored blinking lights. No matter what direction you decide you’re going to go, there will be hundreds of pods waiting for you. And these all happened to pop up in the past couple of hours.
You look at Finnick again, and find that he’s got his eyes on you already. This trip has just gotten ten times more dangerous, and your options on travel are beginning to dwindle, quickly.
“Any ideas?” Katniss asks.
“Why don’t we start by ruling out the possibilities.” Finnick tears his eyes from yours. “The street is not a possibility.”
“The rooftops are just as bad as the street.” Leeg says.
“We still might have a chance to withdraw, go back the way we came.” Homes suggests. “But that would mean a failed mission.”
Katniss frowns briefly. “It was never intended for all of us to go forward. You just had the misfortune to be with me.”
“Well, that’s a moot point. We’re with you now. So, we can’t stay put. We can’t move up. We can’t move laterally.” Jackson shakes her head. “I think that just leaves one option.”
“Underground.” Gale agrees.
Your nose crinkles at the idea, but you force your face to smooth. Now is not a time to be picky, especially when you’re being cornered so harshly. You want to make it out of this city alive, which means you’ll do anything for it to happen.
Katniss switches the Holo to show the pods beneath the surface. While it appears that there’s not nearly as much pods underground, the sewers are going to be harder to navigate. The streets are straightforward, the sewer is full of twisting and turning tunnels. It’s a mess.
With no other option, it’s decided.
“Okay, then. Let’s make it look like we’ve never been here.” Katniss says.
You all get to your feet, picking up empty cans to send down the trash chute, while packing the full ones into your bag. The others flip the couch cushions over to hide the blood, wipe the tracks of black oil from the tile, and lock the second bolt on the door from keeping it from looking like the door got kicked in.
Peeta sits on the blue sofa. “I’m not going. I’ll either disclose your position or hurt someone else.”
“Snow’s people will find you.” Finnick tells him, you stop next to him, crossing your arms.
“Then leave me a pill. I’ll only take it if I have to.”
“That’s not an option. Come along.” Jackson says.
“Or you’ll what? Shoot me?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Peeta.” You say.
“We’ll knock you out and drag you with us.” Homes says. “Which will both slow us down and endanger us.”
“Stop being noble! I don’t care if I die!” He shouts, proceeding to turn to Katniss. “Katniss, please. Don’t you see, I want to be out of this?”
Katniss stares at him for a long moment. “We’re wasting time. Are you coming voluntarily or do we knock you out?”
Peeta takes in a breath, burying his face in his hands, letting out a long sigh. He then gets to his feet to join you.
“Should we free his hands?” Leeg asks.
“No!” Peeta snarls, pulling the cuffs closer to his body.
“No.” Katniss agrees. “But I want the key.” Jackson pulls it out, handing it over to Katniss, who slips it into a pocket in her pants.
With this decided, you all begin to head for the maintenance shaft that you have to enter through the back closet on the upper floor. From there, two doors down, a vertical tube connects the row of apartments to the tunnels below. When Homes opens the small metal door to the shaft, it’s clear that the shells Castor and Pollux are wearing will not fit.
They shed them, stashing the shells in the closet, because that’s the only option they have. Castor and Pollux settle on using their emergency cameras, which are roughly the size of a shoebox.
You let them go in through first, motioning for Finnick to go next. He does the same, the two of you stare at each other for a long second. “Come on, Finnick.”
“I’m not letting you take up the rear.” He tells you.
“It’s not that big of a deal.”
“Which is why you’ll be going first.” He raises his eyebrows.
You roll your eyes, shedding your backpack to drag next to you while you shuffle through the tight space. You sidestep past the first apartment, and join the others in the second one, where they’ve already begun to crowd around the tube to the tunnels.
Messalla frowns at the circular cover behind the utility door. “It’s why no one ever wants the center unit. Workmen coming and going whenever and no second bath. But the rent’s considerably cheaper.” He mutters, when he looks up and sees the way you and Finnick are looking at him, he adds, “Never mind.”
The cover opens easily, there’s a wide ladder with rubber treads on the steps to allow quick movement up and down. You don’t bother to argue with Finnick about this one, sliding down the ladder, gathering at the bottom.
It’s terribly dark down here, even with the strip of dim lights. You wait for your eyes to adjust, while being forced to breathe in the smell down here. A sickening mixture between chemicals, mildew and sewage.
“Are you alright?” Finnick asks, moving a hair out of your face. “You look like you’re going to puke.”
“It’s the smell.” You rub your nose.
Pollux is pale, sweat running down the side of his forehead. He grabs onto Castor, holding on with white knuckles.
“My brother worked down here after he became an Avox.” Castor says. “Took five years before we were able to buy his way up to ground level. Didn’t see the sun once.”
It’s quiet between you all, no one knowing how to respond to something so horrid. You couldn’t imagine being forced down here for an extended period of time. You would go crazy. You’d break out and run and get yourself killed because you’re so desperate to see the sky.
“Well, then you just became our most valuable asset.” Peeta says, turning to Pollux. Castor laughs, and Pollux manages to smile.
Pollux leads the way down the first tunnel, you and Finnick walk side by side in the very back, behind Jackson and Gale, who are watching over Peeta like hawks. He doesn’t seem to care, hunched over, watching the ground.
It turns out that there’s a network of wide tunnels that corresponds to the main street plan above. They call it the Transfer, because small trucks use it to deliver goods around the city. The pods are deactivated during the day, but at night it’s a different story. It’s as bad as the ground above.
Pollux knows details that would be dangerous for a newcomer. The tunnels hold hundreds of additional passages, utility shafts, train tracks and drainage tubes that work together to form a multilevel maze. Some offshoots might require gas masks, have live wires, or rats the size of beavers.
He'll alert the gush of water that sweeps through the sewers like clockwork, and anticipates when the Avoxes will be changing shifts. He even brings you into damp, obscure pipes to hide from almost silent cargo trains. And most importantly, he has knowledge of the cameras. There aren't many down here, except in the transfer.
You make remarkable time, compared to when you’d been traveling above. Still, after six hours, everyone is tired and irritated. It’s three in the morning, when Katniss suggests to rest. Pollux leads everyone into a small, warm room that hums with machines. He holds up his fingers to tell you that you must be gone in four hours.
Jackson works out a guard schedule, one that has you take watch right in the middle. You grit your teeth, unhappy because you won’t be getting much sleep after all, but Finnick objects and tells her that he’ll work your shift, and his.
“Stop it.” You whisper to him. “You need to sleep too.”
“I feel fine.” Finnick looks at you. “You can’t think straight when you’re tired.”
You narrow your eyes. “Yeah? And you become a walking hazard.”
“I’m not arguing with you.” He laughs. “Just be grateful I’m your best friend and go to sleep.”
You press your lips together, tilting your head back to rest against the wall. It’s not very comfortable, you adjust several times, until Finnick pushes your head to rest on his shoulder. You let out a snort, and he shushes you.
It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep, but it’s too easy to wake you. Finnick slides out from where he’d been sitting next to you, and you can’t fall back asleep. He sits next to Pollux, watching the opening you came from. You watch him quietly with tired eyes.
“Are you okay?” Finnick murmurs to Pollux.
He nods, waving away Finnick’s concern with a hand. And then, he motions to you and Finnick, and signs the word ‘date’. You can see Finnick begin to turn his head in your direction, so you close your eyes and fight the smile that wants to come across your face.
It was only a matter of time before he asked, Cressida already did yesterday. She watched Finnick give you a hand down after doing a propo with Katniss. He made a joke, you crinkled your nose at him in response, and he told you that he thought it was cute when you did that.
Cressida had bumped your shoulder a few minutes later, and asked if you and Finnick were dating, or if there was anything between you two. You had to tell her that you and Finnick are only friends. You’ve known each other since high school, which was a decade ago. If either of you had feelings, then it’d be obvious.
You’re used to the assumptions by now, that’s why you’re not bothered by it, and you find it funny.
“No, we’re not dating.” Finnick says, you peek your eyes open to see Pollux blink in surprise, and begin to move his hands. Finnick lets out a laugh. “Yes, I know sign, so does (Y/n). Annie, the victor that was rescued, uses sign language from time to time to communicate when she’s having trouble.”
Pollux nods, making a face, and begins to sign again. Finnick falls quiet enough for the drowsiness to wash over you. You tilt your head back to sleep.
—
“(Y/n).” Finnick shakes your shoulder. “We’ve got to go.”
You take in a breath, holding it for a second, until it erupts into a yawn. When you open your eyes, you’re met with Finnick, making sure you’re alright. You squint, rubbing your face to make yourself more awake.
“You didn’t sleep well.” Finnick says, it’s not a question.
“I woke up after you moved.” You admit, “It’s fine, I fell asleep again.”
He makes a noise, going to open his mouth to speak, when Katniss shushes the group of you. She’s got her eyes on the entrance, listening hard. For a second, all you can hear is the humming of the machines around you, and then you make out the hissing sound.
“Katniss.”
It echoes throughout the tunnels, coming back to you, repeated over and over. Katniss is confused, glancing back at you briefly, before looking away. She jumps at the sound of her name coming from inside of the room, and lands on Peeta. She waits, slowly pulling an arrow out to put on her bow, positioning it over the sleeping Peeta.
He jerks up before she can act on her violence. His eyes are wide, head whipping in her direction, but it’s not because of the arrow pointed at him. “Katniss! Get out of here!”
Katniss lowers the bow slightly. “Why? What’s making that sound?”
“I don’t know. Only that it has to kill you.” Peeta says. “Run! Get out! Go!”
Finnick gets to his feet at the sound of that, holding his hand out for you. You let him pull you to your feet, adjusting the straps on your body until they’re comfortable again. This makes the others move as well, Katniss returns the arrow to where it came from.
“Whatever it is, it’s after me. It might be a good time to split up.” She says.
“But we’re your guard.” Jackson tells her.
“And your crew.” Cressida adds.
“I’m not leaving you.” Gale shakes his head.
Katniss looks between the eleven of you, eyes going from person to person. “Okay,” She agrees. “Finnick, give a gun to Castor. Jackson, will you eject the empty cartridge from Peeta’s and load it with a real one? And (Y/n) do you still have the other Leeg sister’s gun?”
“Yes.” You reach for it, pulling it out for her to see.
“Give it to Pollux.” She tells you. She and Gale then give up their guns, handing them over to Messalla and Cressida because they have their bows. They give a brief lesson on how to shoot the guns, which is all you can afford to do at the moment.
Everything is cleaned up and packed into backpacks, including empty cans to avoid leaving a physical trail, just a scent. When you step foot out of the room, the hissing becomes louder, coming from a fair distance behind you. Without a second thought, you go out in front of Finnick, and you can feel the weight of him grabbing onto your backpack.
You try to move quickly and quietly, but it’s nearly impossible with this many people. The sounds of your shoes splashing in water, the clang of a gun against a pipe, and Katniss giving directions. Still, you manage to cover more blocks before the screaming begins.
You go rigid.
“Avoxes.” Peeta tells you without missing a beat. “That’s what Darius sounded like when they tortured him.”
“The mutts must have found them.” Cressida murmurs.
“So they’re not just after Katniss.” Leeg says.
“They’ll probably kill anyone. It’s just that they won’t stop until they get to her.” Gale says, and he’s right.
Katniss shakes her head. “Let me go on alone. Lead them off. I’ll transfer the Holo to Jackson. The rest of you can finish the mission.”
“No one’s going to agree to that!” Jackson says.
“We’re wasting time!” Finnick whisper-shouts, leaning over your shoulder.
“Listen.” Peeta whispers.
The screams have stopped, and the hissing has resumed, much closer than it was before. Katniss nudges Pollux wordlessly, and the twelve of you begin to run through the tunnel. She opens up the Holo when you reach a staircase, scanning for another route, when she begins to gag.
“Masks on!” Jackson orders.
Katniss forces her way through a door, stumbling out onto the Transfer. She begins to move, pulling out an explosive arrow to activate the pod. The streets are pastel, smooth, easy to run on. The road is empty from deliveries as far as any of you can tell, but cameras could be at any corner.
Regardless, she sprints for the next intersection, telling you to keep close. Finnick lets go of your bag, running past you to grab a hold of her. “Katniss!”
A beacon of white light encapsulates Messalla, who is as still as a statue inside. With his head tilted back, on the ball of one foot, mouth opened wide. You watch in horror as the flesh melts off of his body.
“Can’t help him!” Peeta shoves you from behind, making you stumble a step. “Can’t!”
You begin to move again, following after him and Katniss, dodging beams of light as they come down from the ceiling. You’re sweating bullets by the time you’ve made it to the next intersection, where a spray of gunfire brings you to a stop.
Peacekeepers are running down the Transfer after you, shooting. You swing your gun up to start shooting back, because you have nowhere to go past here. This is the pod that Katniss wanted to activate first before moving on. The others begin to join you, and together, you manage to bring down a good portion of the Peacekeepers before more begin to swarm in from the door you’d just come from.
You can’t help the startled scream that leaves your mouth when you realize that these aren’t, in fact, Peacekeepers. They’re mutts. They’re naked, about the size of a human, with heads that are jutted forward, arched backs and reptilian tails. They hound the Peacekeepers, living and dead, and begin to rip helmeted heads off of shoulders.
It’s only seconds before all the Peacekeepers are decapitated, and they’re slithering toward you on their bellies.
“This way!” Katniss shouts, hugging the wall and making a sharp turn to avoid the pod. As soon as you’ve successfully cleared the pod, Katniss shoots at it. Mechanical teeth burst through the street and begin to chew the tile to dust. She turns to Pollux, you keep your eyes on where the mutts should be coming from. “Forget the mission. What’s the quickest way above ground?”
Pollux moves, going down the Transfer and through a doorway. The shiny tile turns to concrete, Finnick pushes you in front of him as you travel through a tight pipe and onto a ledge that leads you to the main sewer.
A yard below, a nauseating brew of human waste, garbage and chemicals slide by, bubbling when it touches the wall. It’s hard to tear your eyes away from the parts of the surface that are on fire, and you can physically see the vapor that it emits.
You hurry down the path, over a narrow bridge and into an alcove on the far side. Pollux smacks a ladder with his hand and points upward. Katniss turns to look at you, and her face twists. “Wait! Where are Jackson and Leeg One?”
“They stayed at the Grinder to hold the mutts back.” Homes tells her.
“What?” She lunges toward the bridge, and Homes pulls her back.
“Don’t waste their lives, Katniss. It’s too late for them. Look!” Homes nods to the pipe, where the mutts are coming out by the dozen.
“Stand back!” Gale shouts, firing an explosive arrow into the bridge’s foundation. It snaps, bringing down a good number of mutts.
With them being so close, you’re able to see what they actually look like. Their mouths are wide, teeth sharp, smeared blood on their reptilian skin. Their clawed hands and feet have chunks of flesh stuck between them. You gag.
The mutts throw themselves into the sewage without thinking, wanting to get their hands on you. Everyone open fires, and this lasts for a good few minutes, throwing everything you have at the monsters. They don’t die easily, though. Not even with a dozen bullets in their body, which causes everyone to come to the same consensus.
You have to run.
You have no other option, especially because of the sheer volume of them that are still coming out of the sewer pipe. Finnick tries to make a grab at you to swing you toward the ladder, but you shove him first.
He opens his mouth to speak, but doesn’t get a chance to when you point your finger and bark, “Go!”
Finnick begrudgingly grabs the ladder rungs and begins to climb up after Peeta, Cressida following directly on his trail. It’s you, Gale, Homes and Castor left at the bottom. You shoot what you can, making a big enough gap for Gale to begin to climb the ladder. When Castor goes to follow, a rogue mutt from the sewer river reaches up and grabs him. He disappears over the edge.
“Go ahead!” Homes shouts at you, “I’ll hold them!”
You make it to the ladder, you’ve got your right foot placed on a rung, looking up to see how far you have to climb. You’re met with the sight of the Holo, falling down in your direction, projecting a bright blinking red light, and beeping like a dangerous bomb.
“No!” You scream.
Homes turns to see what’s happening, when your body slams into his, bringing the two of you to the ground. The mutts begin to pile on top of you, just as the bomb explodes.
The blast pierces your eardrums before you have a chance to cover your ears. You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling the ground shake beneath you. A shower of wet and clumped matter rains down on you. When you open your eyes, you find that the mutts on top of you are gone, and with their sacrifice, you’re still alive.
You roll over, the mutts in the surrounding area are dead. You struggle to breathe through the smoke and debris that rains down from the ceiling above, your throat and lungs already raw from breathing in the poisonous soup below. You look at Homes, shaking him to get him to move, because the ringing in your ears is so strong.
He doesn’t move. You turn his head, and it moves with no resistance. You scoot away, eyebrows twitching, heart pounding in your chest at the sight of his face, half blown away from the blast.
You struggle to get to your feet, limping over to the ladder, which is covered in the gore from the mutts. When you look up, there is no opening like there had been previously. They threw the cover over. You begin to climb quickly, and at the top, you try to swing it open. It doesn’t budge.
They locked it.
You hang off of the ladder for a moment, taking deep breaths. You have to get out of here. You’re not going to be trapped here. You go back down, and shuffle through the bodies of the mutts to stare at what’s left of the bridge that Gale decided to blow. It’s not much.
It’s possible, though. You swing your bag off of your shoulder and throw it the distance to the other side. You watch helplessly as it slides on the ledge, coming close to falling. Right when you’re sure it’s going to stop, it slips over the side, and into the sewage.
You let out a defeated sigh.
You stare at what you have to work with, and it’s virtually nothing. The bag wouldn’t have helped much, anyway. It just had food and other supplies if you managed to get stuck down here for an extended period of time.
That won’t happen, you’ll get to the other side of the bridge. You grab a hold of Homes’ body, flipping him onto his stomach to expose the back of his vest, which is clean of blood. You carefully push him to where the bridge should be, and then walk all the way back to the ladder, where you’ll start.
You can cross the gap, the issue is slipping on the blood. That’s why, when you break out into a run, you use Homes body as a launchpad. Your stomach is in your throat the second you’re off of the ground and flying over the gap. You come into harsh contact with the cement on the other side.
You get to your feet, starting to backtrack the way you came. It’s through the tight pipe, down to the doorway until concrete turns back to cute pastel tile. It leads you back to the Transfer, where the grinding pod has stopped. You pick up a piece of broken tile to throw at it, and when it doesn’t start back up, you go through it.
There’s a sea of bodies of Peacekeeper and mutt alike. Among them, you find Jackson and Leeg, both decapitated. You start to head in the direction of where you’d come from, from here. The sight of Messalla stops you, and you turn around to go back through the grinding pod.
You begin to walk down the street of the Transfer, taking your time, occasionally throwing broken tiles in the direction you’re going in hopes that it’ll set off a pod. The familiar sound of hissing seizes your heart, making you stop dead in your tracks. You turn your body slightly, afraid to see if it’s true.
It is.
You begin to run down the Transfer, abandoning your original plan of taking your time to find a place to crawl out. You have nothing to defend yourself with. You almost took the gun off of Jackson, but you thought that you were past the mutts and you had to worry about the pods. You should’ve known better than to trust the silence.
You throw yourself at the first door you see, slamming your shoulder into it because you expect it to swing open. It’s locked, a pain begins to blossom in your shoulder, but you push through, heading further in.
Every door you run across is locked. The mutts are practically on top of you, if you slow down for even a second, it’ll surely mean your death. You don’t know how long you go on like this for, triggering pods, trying to kill what’s sent after you, getting injured because of it.
It must be an hour later when you finally see a door ajar. You throw yourself into it, right as you step off of a tile that had sunk with your weight. It explodes, launching you further into the hall. This does nothing to stop the mutts, as it went off too soon. A sharp claw scrapes your ankle, beginning to pull you toward it, when you slam your foot into its absent face.
You manage to scramble back to your feet, hurrying to the ladder that’s waiting for you at the end. You cross your fingers that this latch won’t be locked, because it’s your last chance to get out of here. You can’t go back, they’re swarming beneath you. The ladder isn’t slippery this time around, you yank yourself up in record time, reaching the top of the ladder in a matter of seconds.
You shove the cover open, pulling yourself out. When you’ve cleared the top, you slam it shut, twisting the latch to lock it. The mutts pound on it from the other side, you sit directly on top of it, gasping for air after running for your life for an hour straight.
You hold your arms out, looking at the cuts and bites you’ve received. The blood that’s on your body is more than your own, it belongs to the mutts and Homes, too. You won’t know the real damage until you’re clean, and that could be days from now.
When you feel like you can move, you get to your feet, stumbling to the next ladder that’ll surely lead you to the surface. You’re not going to run around in this tunnel looking for the others. They have to think you’re dead, which means they’ve moved on to the next place.
Thankfully, you know where that is.
At the top of this ladder is another cover, you open it to find that you’re in a utility room, which means that you’re in someone’s apartment. You pat down all of the pockets in your pants, trying to find a weapon. You come across something solid further down your pant leg. When you pull it out, you can see that it’s Finnick’s knife.
You let out a breath of relief, flicking it open. There are times when he makes you mad when he doesn’t listen to you. Other times, it comes in handy. If you run across anyone in this building, you have only one choice.
You open the door, heading into the room quietly. You can hear the sound of a television playing a room over. You slip into the hallway that’ll lead you to the front door, stealing a glance at the bedroom to see a Capitol woman with brightly colored yellow hair and white skin laying on a bed.
You make it to the kitchen and out the front door, into a small hallway with one other door. You leave down the stairs, almost going out to the street, when you see the light pouring through the windows. You back up, shaking your head. You need a disguise if you want to go out there. You’ll be spotted in the matter of minutes, every Capitol citizen knows your name and your face.
You sigh through your nose, going back up the stairs and into the apartment you just came out of. You fix the knife in your hand, creeping around the kitchen and to the hallway that leads to the bedroom. When you peek, she seems to be sleeping. Still, you don’t risk going up close, throwing the knife from where you stand.
Now you enter the room, leaving her body while you go to search through her belongings. You find several large coats, all brightly colored, and outfits you wouldn’t imagine wearing if it weren’t forced on you. You throw several aqua blue and lime green items onto the bed, pulling the knife out of her skull.
The front door is unlocked, so you relock it. In the woman’s bathroom, you start the shower, shedding everything you’re wearing to step beneath the warm water. It stings every cut on your body, you grit your teeth, watching as the water turns pink and doesn’t run clear for several minutes.
When you step out, you get dressed in the outfit you’d set aside. You tie your hair back into a tight bun at the back of your head, and opt for pulling on a brightly colored wig. As soon as you’re dressed and fairly disguised, you drag the woman to the utility closet, dropping her body down the ladder. The outfit that District Thirteen provided for you follows, as well as the bloodied bed sheets and towel. By the time you’re done, it doesn’t look like you were here at all. You shut the cover, lock the latch, and leave the apartment building.
It takes you a moment of wandering down the roads before you begin to recognize where you are. You’ve been here before, a couple times, actually. The Peacekeepers escorted you to these buildings, and then back to the Tribute Center when you were done working.
It takes you over an hour to get to the designer shop that Cressida was talking to you about. By then, the sun has risen and it’s got to be around noon. You enter through the door, trying to be casual about the way you do. It’s warm inside, there are pants and shirts and underwear made out of fur on mannequins, but there’s no sign that your friends were ever here.
“Can I help you?” A voice purrs.
You turn to see a tall woman, who has been surgically altered to have the appearance of a tiger. With her skin pulled back tightly, tattooed to have black and gold stripes. Her nose has been flattened, there’s whiskers protruding out of her lips. She wears a long fur coat that matches what she’s wearing.
“Possibly.” You murmur, “Are you Tigris?”
“Yes,” She says, looking over your face, eyes squinting. “And you are?”
“Looking for some friends.” You say, pulling off the wig. “I was told by Cressida that you could help.”
She hums, walking past you to the door. You turn to watch her, body tense, terrified that she’s about to shout to everyone out there that you’re a fugitive. Instead, she turns a lock, coming back your direction.
“Follow me.”
You do, she brings you behind a rack of clothes, sliding open a panel at the base of the wall. You peer inside and find that there’s a staircase on the other side. You look at her.
“Thank you.”
You have to crawl through the space, she slides the wall shut behind you. You go down the steep steps, eyes searching the darkness. You run into a hanging chain, which you instinctively reach up to pull on. Light fills the room, and you’re met with the sight of several people on the floor, now covering their eyes as they struggle to see their intruder.
It’s easy to spot Cressida, Pollux and Gale. You have to take a few more steps down in order to see Katniss and Peeta.
“(Y/n)...” Cressida’s voice is quiet.
“Where’s Finnick?”
The sound of moving fabric makes you turn your head. Finnick’s on his feet, coming in your direction, arms outstretched to take you in a hug. You run into him, pulling at his vest to bring him flush against your body.
He’s breathing heavily into your shoulder, a hand on the back of your head, the other wrapped around the middle of your back. “It’s okay.” You tell him, fingers wrapped in his curls. “I’m okay.”
“They won’t take you from me ever again.” Finnick tells you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
You close your eyes. “I know.” You stroke his hair for a moment, and then pull away to hold onto his face. Finnick searches your eyes, you offer him a soft smile. “I’ll never leave you.”
--
this is part of my 3k celebration!!
#ilguna#finnick odair#finnick odair imagine#finnick odair fanfic#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair oneshot#finnick odair x you#finnick odair x yn#finnick odair x y/n#finnick imagine#finnick fanfic#finnick x reader#finnick oneshot#finnick x you#finnick x yn#finnick x y/n#thg#the hunger games#angst#3k celebration#planet anon#ask#request
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