#and how peeta is written… | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

leviathanspain · 5 months

Note

Hey could you write a Finnick odair / reader where snow forces them to pretend to date like he did with katniss and peeta? The whole convince him and get married as a distraction thing? Thanks :)

the pretender

finnick odair x reader

synopsis: being reaped from the victor’s pool changed your life in more ways than you imagined

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you were his favorite girl.

girl. you were a girl when you had been reaped, a girl when your feet stepped off the platform, more shocked that you didn’t immediately blow up into bits. a girl when you had committed your first kill. you remembered the sound of your knife slicing into human flesh for the first time. the ringing in your ears had become permanent after you had been too close to the explosion that had killed half of the tributes. an explosion that you had accidentally caused.

your rebellious spirit was fun at first, for the capital to laugh and delight in, until you stopped using the scripts that they had written for you, and tried to destroy the idea of the girl in their minds.

snow subdued you, tried to barter your family’s life with cooperation. unbeknownst to him, you hadn’t seen your family in years since they had abandoned you, for fighting against your father’s abuse.

“kill them. do whatever you want to them. just leave me alone.” your own words haunted you since the day snow had presented evidence of their murders. you didn’t dare flinch in his presence, holding a strong facade that you didn’t care, that they were beneath you.

as he left, irritated at your refusal to comply, letting ideas stir in his head with what to do with you, you broke down. tears shed as you realized that they were gone because of you, because you couldn’t let your anger go.

but snow liked you, he must’ve had a reason to keep you around for so long, and until just a few days ago, you hadn’t known why.

you breathed deeply as you heard your name called. it was deja vu, and suddenly you were back to the thirteen year old girl, who was so emaciated and starved that when her name was called, she believed she was hallucinating.

you looked crudely into the screen, not offering any smiles or sign of pride that you had been reaped, all over again.

“y/n l/n.” hearing your full name made you turn around immediately. you were slightly blinded by his blonde hair and pearly white smile.

“finnick odair.” you realized who the man was, quicker than you’d admit. the last time you had seen him was at a ridiculous capital party that snow had forced you to attend. finnick had been leaned against a wall, with two capital sluts hanging onto his shoulders, whispering in his ears simultaneously.

he smiled, not surprised that you didn’t say anything else besides his name. you had that tendency about you, to shoot down any attempt at conversation. even going as far to avoid it all together. “i’m glad you haven’t tried to run away, not after i had caught you eyes and you dashed off at that party. how long ago was that? three,” his speech hung onto the words, “four?”

“five months. it’s been five months, finnick.” you remembered his gaze, and remembered how your feet made you run at the sight. you had heard stories about finnick, and you weren’t exactly planning on ever talking to him.

“that’s right.” he smiled, “i hope you’ve been well since then. it was nice seeing you in something other than a bloody shirt.” his gaze suddenly seemed very far away, as if he was remembering exactly what you wore that night.

you shrugged, deciding to change topics, “everyone else is polishing their weapons,” you heard a guttural war cry, and saw another tribute lunge at a partner, “and methods.” finnick turned to the source of the cry and laughed slightly, “oh yeah? what’s your choice of weapon, again?”

“knives. anything long and sharp.” you always had an affinity for knives. it was second nature to you, an art of your district. your mind drifted away slightly to the array of knives that you had collected during your games. every tribute that you had slaughtered had a knife, and you collected them as a token. by the end, you had 23 knives, all representing a kill.

it had been upsetting when you went on your victory tour, to see the look on their family’s faces, but you had blurred out their emotions, and at the height of your submission to snow, had given out the same apathetic speech to every district.

finnick watched as your mind drifted back to reality. wherever you had gone for the better half of a minute, was a place finnick spent every waking moment, running away from.

he grabbed your shoulder, squeezing it slightly as he looked into your eyes, whispering your name, “hey, hey.” you focused on his eyes, gaze shifting to his mouth as they shaped the syllables of your name. you swallowed thickly, “im sorry-i…” you pulled away, his hand falling free of your shoulder. finnick watched as you exited the training room, your hands balled up into fists as you disappeared through the doorway.

“absolutely not.” you had spent your childhood under the thumb of one man, and you had barely made it out from under snow’s. this was only another way to get you under it once more.

finnick had his head bowed, having listened to snow’s pitch to make the two of you a couple. he needed something to distract the capital citizens from peeta and katniss, who everyone knew, was just a thorn in snow’s side.

“my dear, i really don’t think you have a choice in the matter.” snow’s eyes narrowed at you and you sighed, “what else is there left for you to do? im already being marched to my death, again, just speed the process up. poison me like you do the rest.” you took a good jab at one of the many secrets you had obtained, living in his cage.

snow laughed, “i would’ve done that a long time ago, y/n.”

just as you were beginning to argue again, finnick looked up, eyes catching yours. he held your gaze for a minute, blinking his wet eyes at you. there was something that was telling you that this wasn’t just about you.

finnick.

oh how could you forget finnick.

there was something clearly at stake for him too, otherwise why had he remained silent this entire time?

compliance was something he had to get used to, also under snow’s control.

“okay, fine.” you felt yourself swallow bile, “i’ll do it.” you looked at finnick, your future husband, and the reason why you were even agreeing.

“why did you do it?” his voice cracked, a raw noise as he looked over at you. you had been silent the whole time since leaving the meeting with snow. you shuddered with the strong winds, having been sat out on the stoop of the building, housing all the reaped former victors.

you looked at finnick, having caught his gaze, holding it for a moment, “my entire life i’ve been selfish, and i guess i realized that it isn’t always about putting myself first.” you knew the stories, heard the rumors. snow had barely played with the idea, making you like finnick, but you had always refused. there was nothing left for him to leverage, and so it never went anywhere.

but this, pairing the two of you was nothing short of cruel. finnick who has everything to lose, with you, who he probably didn’t expect to agree.

finnick hitched a breath, understanding what you weren’t saying. “thank you.” he breathed, “and im sorry.”

you stood up suddenly, nodding as you turned towards the entrance, “just-“ you cut yourself off, waving a hand as you continued inside.

he made the announcement. finnick had decided that with the pull he has on the capital, that he would be the one to do it. especially since he was so beloved, the attention from it was to challenge katniss and peeta’s.

you had agreed to play the part, and now you had to act like it.

there was loud cheering and applause from the crowd, and you were pushed out onto the stage, more cheers erupting as finnick stood up to meet you halfway. you kissed his cheek, grabbing his hand tightly as you two fluttered across the stage.

caesar flickerman was already standing there with a bright, capitol smile. “this is your lovely bride. we hear the honeymoon is the arena?” he looked at finnick who tipped his head back for a laugh, but didn’t answer outright.

you gave a soft laugh, “we just loved each other so much, we couldn’t wait.”

caesar looked at you, as if remembering who you were exactly, “wow.” he seemed truly amazed, perhaps even shocked.

finnick noticed the heaviness in the interview and turned his head at caesar, trying to keep the attention on the union rather than the individuals.

he grabbed your hand suddenly, clutching it tightly. as he held it for the rest of the interview, you staring at the faces in the crowd, more love struck than you, you wondered if he was trying to comfort you or himself.

“finnick.” you looked around behind you, only seeing peeta in front of you. the first few days in the arena had been a blur. you had stuck by close with finnick, who made it his mission to stay close to katniss. there was something he wasn’t telling you, but you didn’t once doubt him.

“finnick?” you whipped your head around and couldn’t find him. you were always in front of him, so he could remain in his eye line at all times. except you had failed to make sure he was in yours.

your ears started ringing as the panic set in. you scanned the trees and couldn’t find any sign of him or katniss, realizing this as peeta shared your same panicked look. your throat felt tight as you screamed his name, “finnick!” peeta suddenly took off, feet blazing towards more greenery. you had no choice but to follow, knowing finnick would’ve had you stick with peeta.

as you barely caught up to peeta, you saw him hit the floor as you ran up. whatever he had bounced off of was holding katniss and finnick back.

you looked at finnick, unable to catch his eyes as he looked up frantically. there was something you were missing, there were just bir-

“jabberjays.” peeta groaned out, “they can’t hear us, but they hear our screams.” he swallowed thickly, resting near the force field. katniss was knelt down at the edge, eyes tightly shut. you stared at finnick, at a loss for words. the panic in his face looked so real, you wondered who he was hearing.

you tore your eyes away, watching him suffer was not something you had signed up for. you felt defeated, unable to do anything as you and peeta sat like sitting ducks, waiting this torture out.

you hadn’t talked to him since the jabberjays. peeta had comforted katniss, in any way she’d let him. but they were different, you and finnick were different.

yes, you were married, he was your husband. but the issue was, you hadn’t much time to even begin to share intimate details, let alone have a good conversation. this was what snow wanted, an empty marriage to stir up all the attention.

except you knew your performance was failing. the audience could see right through you.

“hey.” finnick had snuck up on you. you had stayed a few feet away from him and the others, unsure how to handle it all. but it seems like finnick was trying to make it work. but it should be the other way around.

“finnick.” you breathed a sigh of relief unintentionally, hoping he didn’t catch on, you watched as he sat down on the sand beside you. he grabbed your hand, and for a moment you thought it to be genuine, until he raised an eyebrow.

right.

“i’m so sorry.” your voice hitched, and finnick steadied his gaze, “seeing you like that-“ you faked a choked sob, “i just couldn’t do it. i couldn’t look at you and see-“ you cut yourself off, throwing your head in your hands.

snow had to be happy that you were selling yourself off to protect finnick. but beside that heart to heart you had with him in the beginning, you had nothing else to go off of.

“i heard you.” finnick’s voice cracked, “you were screaming, these terrible, horrible screams.” he shook his head, as if he were hearing them all over again, making you realize that he was telling the truth. “and it wouldn’t stop.” he breathed. his breathing got harder and you found yourself kissing him to make him stop. finnick panted into the kiss, as if you had grounded him. you pulled back, catching his eye as you looked away.

your hand that he had been holding gripped his harder. you looked out into the water, watching as it’s dangerous waters moved, unsure on how you would survive this.

with or without him.

#finnick odair fluff #finnick x you #finnick odair oneshots #finnick odair angst #finnick x reader #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair smut #thg finnick #thg #thg angst #thg x reader #finnick imagine #hunger games finnick #finnick odair #finnick x y/n #finnick odair x you #thg imagine #thg smut #thg fanfiction

3K notes · View notes

targaryenluvs · 3 months

Text

— HONEYMOON BLISS

pairings: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader, percy jackson x sister!reader

summary: your relationship with luke was pure joy, but it seems your happiness and love leads to the two of you slipping up.

warnings: none really, fluffy, giggly reader, suspicious percy, flirty luke and annoyed reader, clarisse and chris r detectives, bickering luke and y/n, percabeth crumbs

a/n: it’s coming close to the end, very scary i swear 😭😭 i thought it would take me ages to write this story but i’ve uploaded all chapters in one day and written them lmao

wordcount: 1.2k

taglist: @songofthesuns @gayforyelena @taloulalila @honeydanny @7s3ven @sssi-nr @percabethtears @gr1mes-cc @2hiigh2cry @10ava01 @ahh-chickens @fangirl-swagg @anotherblackreader @midmourn @lovelyforesst @urfavpogue @lilacspider @mysteris-things @whoreyzontal @lunalixya @dangelnleif @wordsarelife

part i, part ii, part iii, part iv - finale out now!!

iii. honeymoon bliss

the smile on your face was very wide. in your hand was a red lipstick you’d long forgotten. “what’s that?” luke hovered over you as you jumped back, “announce your comings and goings castellan, you scared the shit out of me.” luke grinned as he leaned against the wall, your eyes couldn’t help but trail over his arms.

his sleeves were rolled, specks of paint all over.

“take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“kill yourself, my peace will last longer.”

“ouch, who hurt you?” luke came closer as you placed the cap on the lipstick, “everybody on earth, how do i look?” it wasn’t too bold, a nice color nonetheless , one of your favourites. “perfect, as always.” you smiled before pressing a kiss to his lips, than his cheek, than his jaw. “okay now run along, peeta.” luke’s face contorted, “hate to break it to you, but i’m luke.”

you slapped your palm against your forehead, “i know, i’m calling you peeta, like from hunger games? he paints and bakes?” luke crossed his arms as he stared at you wondering, “there’s a game for hunger? that’s horrible.” you smiled as you kissed him again, “ill explain later, now go before clarisse murders you for being late.” he pressed a kiss to your forehead before heading out, a salute sent your way as he approached the door, “yes ma’am!”

it wasn’t until it was too late that you’d realised, his face was covered in lipstick. but clarisse and chris noticed straight away. “so, you wanna tell us what you’ve been up to?” chris asked as he continued directing the paint roller up and down. “what are you talking about?” clarisses laugh rung out through the air, “i’m talking about the fact that you’re face is covered in lipstick.”

shit. luke clamoured to the nearest window to view your work, he looked pretty nice, he thought. but the stares from chris and clarisse brought him back, “it’s nothing, get back to painting.” and as much as luke would love to wear the marks, he raised his sleeves to wipe them off.

clarisse would not stop staring at your lips, “yknow, if you wanna kiss me, you could’ve said so.” you said as she shoved your arm, “as gorgeous as you are, no.” you leaned against the palm of your hand, “got your eye on someone? starts with an a? b?” her foot collided with your shin before you could continue you any further.

as you rubbed it up and down you smiled, “duly noted.” clarisse picked at her food, “as much as i love having you here, why are you at our table?” you sighed, “percy takes forever apparently. usually at the idea of food he comes running.” you laughed as percy flicked your ear, “ow! where have you been?” you stood up and walked to your table, not without a wave towards the ares cabin.

“i barely got away from annabeth, she was working me to the bone.” percy’s eyes immediately flicked to the food infront of him. “oh please you’re as skinny as a twig kelpie.” percy tilted his head, “you’re my sister, which means you’re connected to the sea. yet you’re still calling me kelpie? what even is that?” the goblet in your hands currently held liquid gold, otherwise known as mountain dew, “i don’t know kelpie.” you took a sip from your goblet whilst percy inhaled his food.

“hey percy, y/n.” luke’s voice called out as he walked over to the two of you, you practically froze up. you hadn’t seen him all day since he was currently repainting the hermes cabin after someone, (kids from the ares cabin who’d then blamed their siblings for putting them up to it. which caused them to end up at the infirmary and clarisse painting as a punishment) took their masterful artistry from off their page and onto the walls.

“i hate to ask, but i need more people to help me out, percy?” his mouth was currently stuffed full and you couldn’t help but laugh, “the foods not going anywhere perce, and yes he will help, won’t you percy?” your tone wasn’t exactly asking him, but he didn’t want to paint. you could tell by his lack of response that he wasn’t exactly elated. “i’ll talk to him, he’ll come soon enough. you heading up?”

and so percy watched as the two of you walk away, laughing at you tripping over. “shit, you okay bab—,” your head snapped up at the slip, “i’m fine. it’s just my lace.” you interrupted as luke handed you his tray.

luke bent down as you clutched onto his plate and your own, he patted his knee as you rested your foot. he made quick work of your laces, double knotted and all. “what’s that? world record time?” you scoffed, “you wish.” luke feigned shock, “no faith jackson, no faith.” it was a running joke, your last name being jackson. even if it wasn’t, percy was your brother. and you didn’t really mind it, your parents weren’t exactly heartwarming.

“i have faith, in your failure.” he clutched his chest, “you’re killing me here.” you smiled, “good.” chris’s jaw was quite literally hung open, before clarisse shut it and chris mentally ran laps at the fact that she’d touched him. “they’re so together.”

“undeniably.”

“what’s undeniable?”

chris jumped back at percy’s sudden intrusion into the conversation, “cmon man.” percy shrugged, “what’re you guys talking about?” clarisse rolled her eyes, “none of your business, learn some manners and stop butting into conversations.” it was percy’s turn to roll his eyes, before they focused on the two of you.

“her laces are double knotted, they were untied two seconds ago, she never double knots.” chris rose his eyebrows at percy’s observant eyes, “luke tied them.” he turned back to the picnic table as clarisse turned to her siblings. leaving percy to sigh, “guess i’m painting after all.”

i mean, he had to keep an eye on you. right?

percy had been painting for a record time of ten minutes, before you’d managed to get annabeth to take him away so you could be with luke. she’d unsurprisingly caught on pretty quickly, especially when the two of you had accidentally worn eachothers shirts to the bonfire.

“what’re you doing here seaweed brain?”

percy visibly jumped at annabeths voice, to luke’s amusement. “you alright there?” percy’s thumbs up was a quick response as the boy turned to annabeth, his face was beat red. “hey, annabeth. what’s up?” his voice crack caused luke to laugh, and for percy to roll his eyes.

“i need someone to train with.”

“that’s nice.”

“i’m choosing you.”

“that’s not nice.”

annabeth crossed her arms, her foot tapping impatiently against the floor. she was waiting for him to give in, and her harsh stare was more than enough for him to run after her. you walked to luke with a smile, he was currently bent over as he dabbed his brush in the paint. “nice ass castellan.” luke grinned at your voice, “thanks, yours is… nice i guess.” you punched his arm.

“i think we should go swimming tomorrow.”

“you think?” your eyes flitted back up to his, before returning to painting.

“yes! thank you. i’ll pack everything don’t worry. we should bring the camera.”

“who said i agreed?”

“you didn’t say no, you didn’t shake your head, nothing indicating towards a no. you said, ‘you think?’ you’re asking me if i really want to go, and i do.”

you couldn’t help the smile that came over your face, dam, luke castellan knew you like the back of his hand. “if you feel like skinny dipping, i’m not against it.”

“castellan!” your voice was shrill as you chastised the man, accidentally flicking paint up at him as your hand waved around, his smirk was undeniably devious.

“oh it’s on.” he took his roller and ran it across your face as you shrieked, “i’m going to murder you!”

#percy jackson x fem!reader #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson x reader #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x fem!reader #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson fic

1K notes · View notes

mrs-kmikaelson · 8 months

Text

Our Song and Dance³

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

Masterlist | Part 4

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

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

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

But they couldn’t be together.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now he lost you, anyway.

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

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

“Finnick.”

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

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

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

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

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

You were the glue that held him together.

And now the Capitol had you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was Peeta, on the Capitol TV.

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

Peeta was on the TV.

And you were nowhere in sight.

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

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

Suddenly, his stomach fell.

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

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

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

In that moment, he understood Annie like never before.

Because he wasn’t so sure she was right.

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

But now, the silence was deafening.

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

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

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

You wouldn’t have wanted them to suffer alone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She shouldn’t have to either, he thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re gonna get them back, Katniss.”

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

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

We’re gonna get them back.

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

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

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

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

He had so many questions, and so little answers.

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

But Finnick supposed that was what a victor was.

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

That was the first time he looked like himself.

Are you, are you comin’ to the tree?

He faltered. “Katniss?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then the camera cut out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was your life on the line.

He couldn’t lose you.

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

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

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

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

I’ll see you at midnight?

Yeah, I’ll see you at midnight.

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

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

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

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

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

He just wished he could’ve told you that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But… you told me that you love her.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Even if he still had trouble doing that for himself.

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

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

Hope.

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

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

Roses.

A rose?

They’re a Capitol favourite.

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

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

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

“Okay, what are we doing?”

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

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

His brows furrowed. He already knew that.

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

Suddenly, it was like his heart stopped.

You were coming home.

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

“Yes, I’ll be leading the mission-”

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

“Finnick-”

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

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.”

He scoffed. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Finnick-”

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

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

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

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

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

You couldn’t die.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A sex symbol.

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

You were one and the same.

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

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

So he wasn’t going to stay silent anymore.

You deserved better than that.

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

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

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

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

He had been silent for far too long already.

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

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

“I come with something much more valuable.”

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

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

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

We will never be free, Y/N.

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

And so would you.

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

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

I know. It’s not fair, I know.

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

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

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

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

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

They were sitting on thrones.

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

He hoped he was watching.

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

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

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

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

Not anymore.

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

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

How ironic was that?

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

“The perfect weapon for a snake.”

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

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

What if they couldn’t?

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

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

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

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

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

No, you are coming home-

Finni-

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

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

You never came home.

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

I told you. I’m not letting you die.

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

He was supposed to bring you home.

Yeah, I’ll see you at midnight.

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

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

With this song playing so loudly, how could he?

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

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

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

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

He shook his head. “It’s fine-”

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

“Katniss-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

May the odds be ever in your favour, darling.

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

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

You. You were his everything.

And you didn’t even know it.

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

I’m your girlfriend now?

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

I am so serious right now.

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

But what if you never knew that?

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

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

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

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

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

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

You would’ve been so happy together.

But that wasn’t the world you lived in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He didn’t want to hear it without you.

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

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

You were back.

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

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

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

And then he saw you.

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

But it wasn’t so simple.

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

Like you were scared of him.

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

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

You looked like a ghost.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean- is she okay-”

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

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

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

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

“Mr. Odair-”

“You’re telling me to leave.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But nothing seemed more colourful.

Nothing seemed better.

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

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

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

I told you. I’m not letting you die.

Little did Finnick know, you were already dead.

Taglist: @avoxrising @mxacegrey @littleshadow17 @lovelyteenagebeard @nasyanastya @catastrxblues @zodiyack @zulpix-blog @mushroomelephant @muggies @lantsovheiress @hobiebrowns-wife @notplutos @faeriepigeons

1K notes · View notes