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maggiecc · 5 months

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When the World Shifts (Finnick O'dair x reader)

Finnick O’Dair x reader

TW: It's about the Hunger Games, so murder, talks of death, Annie has panic attacks

This first part does not use Y/N, for the next part should I include it, or continue to disclude it?

No Betas, we die like Vikings.

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4:TBD

“On the third quarter quill game, the male and female tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of victors in each district.” Snow continued his speech, but you stopped being able to hear it, his words turning into static.

“No, No, No” You hear Annie mumble. You turn to look at her as she starts to shake, and her mumbles turn to screams. She had covered her ears with her hands and squeezed her eyes shut “NO, NO, NO!”

You wrap her up into your arms, stroking her hair, whispering words of comfort all while you felt the same. You too wanted to scream but screaming would do you no good and you knew this. You cannot afford to fall apart, not now, not with Annie here. The announcement of the quarter quell, that the 75th Hunger Games would be made up of victors meant your safety from the games was gone. You didn’t want to believe it, that it was possible, but Annie’s tears were enough proof for you to believe it.

Before you could think about reentering the games, you both jumped at the sound of a door slamming shut and footsteps running toward the room you sat in. You knew who it was, you wanted to get up and run to him, but you knew you could not let go of Annie. She clung to you as if you were her lifeline, and perhaps you were for the moment grounding her to remind her where she is something she cannot always tell. As the steps got closer you tried to think of what you should do, or say but there was nothing. The sound of the door being ripped open caused Annie to jump getting ready to fight an instinct all the tributes held. The other 2 victors of District 4 had entered. You turn to try and grab Annie but before you can grab her someone else beats you to it. Mags had her in her arms and started to sink to the ground with her as her cries continued. Finally being able to pull your focus from Annie you turn to look at the man who had yet to leave the entryway.

“Finnick,” you whispered the tears finally starting to fall “Oh Finnick.” You ran to him as he opened his arms to grab you. As you reach him you wrap your arms around him, and he mirrored you, one arm around your waist and one holding the back of your head, lacing his fingers through your hair. Your head was pressed to his chest and you could hear his heart racing, it was the only thing you could hear, even drowning out Annie who now was just whimpering in Mags’s arm. Your tears began to soak his shirt but neither of you cared about that. You did not know what to do, or what to say, so you just let yourself be held and pretend for a moment everything will be okay.

The night of the announcement was a whirlwind, the District 4 tributes all stayed together, few words were spoken that night, but many tears were spilled. You all held each other, only leaving to make tea, or grab tissues. The next morning when you awoke you noticed you were short a person, Annie and Mags rested together but Finnick was gone. You felt your breath quicken as you ran out of the room.

“Finnick? Finnick?” You tried to keep your voice low, you knew if you woke Annie and she heard you calling for Finnick she would panic again.

As you turned the corner you heard a response called from the kitchen “In here love.”

“Finnick you can’t just leave like that!” You scold him, voicing raising by accident. You take a moment to close your eyes and breathe, knowing you need to remain calm in the coming days, working yourself up would not help. “When I didn’t see you, I got nervous I, I”

“I’m sorry darling, I wanted to get the food ready before everyone awoke so we could eat it again you all wouldn’t have to worry” He explained.

You let out a soft sign, “ Alright well I’ll help you finish to make it go faster. Annie and Mags will be up soon.”

The two of you start to move around the kitchen together, moving in tandem to finish the breakfast he had started. It was simple food, only toast, and eggs, all of you so sick to the stomach over the news you would not be able to eat anything else. As Finnick worked on the eggs you put the toast in and started to boil water for tea.

You turn to look at Finnick trying to gather your thoughts “Finnick we need to start”

“Not now,” He cut you off “Let's eat breakfast first and wait until Mags can speak with us too.”

You silently nod, noticing his purposeful exclusion of Annie, and although you knew why it still hurt to think about. Annie had been doing so much better before the news broke, and thinking about how she was reduced to her state right after her games hurt you. She was like a sister to you, and seeing all her progress dissipate was almost as bad as the news itself.

You both simply look at each other for a moment, both thinking the same thing but neither of you speaking it. The silence is broken by the kettle’s whistle, both breaking your eye contact to return to your kitchen task.

Eventually, you both gather the food and drinks onto a tray and carry it back into the room with Annie and Mags. You place the tray down on the table and go towards the duo. You first wake Mags, giving her a light tap which wakes her instantly. She never fully sleeps anymore always being ready to jump awake at any noise or movement. She looks at you and her eyes soften, expressing all she needs to say. Next was the more difficult one, you put Annie’s head in your lap and start to hum as you stroke her hair, slowly getting louder and louder. Eventually, she jumps awake instantly screaming squeezing her eyes shut.

“Annie, Annie, it's me” You plead to her

“No, no no!”

“Annie please open your eyes, it’s me, it's us.” You continue and eventually, she opens her eyes and sees you. She stops trying to break out of your arms, but her shaking does not stop completely. You then get her to sit up, keeping her between Mags and you and Finnick puts the plates down in front of all of you.

The silence continues as you all eat the food. It's difficult to swallow the food, every bite feeling like it is going to come back up, but you know now is not the time to starve yourself, not with the games looming overhead. Once you were all finished eating, you started to pile the plates but before you could bring them to the kitchen Mags took them from you to walk them back.

“I can,” you try to stop her, but she shakes her head to you. As Mags leaves you stand and then help Annie up. She was clearly still tired and although you have all been together, you don’t blame her, she had been tense the entire night. You bring her to the couch in the room and hold her hand until she falls back asleep. Once she was done you slipped your hand away from hers and let out a soft sign.

“We have to talk about this,” You tell Finnick, now that Annie is asleep you know you can no longer avoid speaking about the games.

“I know,” he replied, feeling the same weight as you. Mags then walks back into the room, and you all look at each other.

“What, what, what do we do?” You ask, looking at the other victors, unsure of where even to begin.

“We need to figure out who is going in.” Finnick responds “I am the only male victor, but the three of you have an equal chance of getting chosen.”

“We can’t let Annie go back in, she wouldn’t be able to handle it” you begin to explain “And Mags, no offense, but you cannot go back in there. You look so young for 80 but the other victors could be in their prime”

“No, you can’t” Finnick tried to argue but you cut him off.

“Finnick one of us has too, and I am the only one who stands a chance, you else? Annie can’t and I won’t let Mags.” He begins to open his mouth to argue but you don’t even give him the chance. “Finnick, please don’t argue with me on this, I won’t change my mind. Annie will need someone with her here, and I am the most capable in the arena.”

Finnick looked at you, battling with you without words until he eventually lost.

“Fine, but we stay together and you cannot put yourself in any unnecessary danger”

“Okay, and the same goes for you, we get out of this together.” You put your pinky out.

“Together” He responds, wrapping his pinky with yours.

#finnick odair #Finnick O’Dair #finnick x reader #finnick x you #finnick x y/n #finnick odair x reader #hunger games #the hunger games #annie cresta #thg #finnick odair fanfiction #finnick fanfiction #finnick odair imagines #the hunger games fanfiction #mags flanagan #coriolanus snow

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lucy-gray1075 · 5 months

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There Are Worse Games to Play

pairing: finnick odair x reader (hunger games)

synopsis: you and finnick get reaped for the 3rd quarter quell

warnings: fluff, angst, sadness, self-sacrifice

a/n: my first hunger games fic!! i love fin so much, so i hope you enjoy this <3

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"Finnick Odair," the Escort's voice rang loud in the silence of the gathered audience.

You let out a strangled cry of suppressed fury. It wasn't fair. He won, fair and square. He had played by the Capitol's rules, just like the rest of you. Why should he be taken again?

The Escort walked over to the bowl containing the female Victors' names and before you knew it she was calling out, "Mags Flanagan!"

"I volunteer! I volunteer!" your hand shot up as you stepped forward to ensure your intentions wouldn't be mistaken.

"How wonderful! We have a volunteer for the female tribute from District 4," the Escort sounded genuinely proud, like you had done some great service to the Capitol. In her eyes, you were a compliant soldier, a willing pawn of the Capitol. It disgusted you, but at least now, you had the chance to die in the games and leave this cruel world behind.

"No! Y/N!" Finnick seemed to be struggling against his anguish. You had forgotten this might affect him, just as much as him being in danger affected you. Well, if it came down to it, you would sacrifice yourself for him in a heartbeat. That knowledge was the only constant you could rely on in your quickly crumbling world.

Finnick wouldn't speak to you on the train. And every time you mustered the courage to say something, to try and explain yourself, your words died in your throat like mockingjays shot down from the sky.

"Finnick, would you please say something?" you finally broke. "At least look at me." You hated how you wore your desperation all over your face.

Finnick's head snapped to yours, and you almost wished you hadn't asked. His eyes were ablaze with a fury so deep you thought he just might hate you.

"I'm sorry," you let out a sob you didn't realize you were holding in.

Your embarrassing display of emotion made his features to soften. He didn't mean to make you cry.

"C'mere," there was a rough edge to his voice, which you suspected was from him trying to hide how emotional he had gotten.

Despite the tough guy act, he melted at your touch. He pulled you into his arms and when that wasn't enough, into his lap. You couldn't be close enough to him.

"I'm so scared," his voice broke. All you could do was nod. If Finnick couldn't be strong about this, there was no hope for you. You pulled his head into your chest, stroking his soft curls to comfort him. He rubbed your lower back in wide sweeping motions, trying to quell your tears.

"We have each other," you wiped at your face harshly. You needed to see the bright side. "There are worse games to play. This time, we're older and stronger and we'll be together, most importantly."

"You're right, love," Finnick dried your remaining tears more gently than you had. The pad of his thumb was soft against your undereye, and you tried to focus on the feeling of his arms around you for as long as you could. You loved how much he cared for you. You loved him so much, and if anything ever happened to him, you didn't think you could live with yourself.

"I love you," he whispered, touching his forehead to yours.

"I love you more, Finn," you closed your eyes, feeling his lashes flutter against yours.

"Not possible, birdie," you opened your eyes to find the ghost of a grin lighting up his entire face. You stared hard, committing this image of him to memory. You didn't know if you'd ever see him this way again.

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redwinetalks · 2 months

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I Won’t Let You Sink

Chapter 1

Word Count: 4k

Pairing: Finnick x Fem!OC

Warnings: angst, thoughts of some self harm, miss girl has to sell her body

Summary: Silk Fabelle is the winner of the 68th annual Hunger Games and she’s finishing up her victory tour. She meets Finnick then returns home leading to a lil chit chat with Snow.

*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°

The Capitol was the complete opposite of District 8. Full of bright colors and energy instead of dull and lifeless. Everything is perfectly placed and decorated. Artistically groomed trees and bushes. The Capitol elite expect me to think of this as a blessing. How much of an honor it is to get to visit. To be invited to these lavish parties and be dressed to the nines. But with each conversation I’m dragged into, I’m counting the seconds until I can go home and no longer be stuck with the people who use my trauma as a way to get off.

“Did you hear me?” I’m snapped back to reality by the woman who’s been speaking to me about my victory. Her blue and purple hair is tied up in an intricate bun. Her eyeshadow goes all the way to her temples and her eyebrows are adorned with jewels. To match her eccentric look, she’s wearing a bright purple gown that cinches her waist so much I wonder how she’s even breathing.

“Yes, sorry. I couldn’t help getting distracted by how beautiful everything looks tonight.”

“Oh, of course! I can’t even imagine having to live in that dreary district of yours. This must be such a culture shock. But, back to what I was saying. Your games! You really surprised us all. I mean, no one guessed that the little girl from 8 could win. A lot of people lost their bets after your victory. Don’t worry though, no one could stay upset about it. Not with how precious you are! You really are a doll just like they say!” A doll. That’s the pet name they’ve adorned me with. The Capitol’s doll they could dress up and play with however they so please.

“You’re going to be quite popular! But I must leave you, I need to get a little drink.” She gives me a wink and walks away. Im sure she’s off to purge and then continue to gorge herself.

When she’s gone I close my eyes and let out the deep sigh I’ve been holding. With each Capitol aristocrat I talk to I feel more and more suffocated. I grab a glass of wine and then move myself away from the crowd. This party is supposed to be dedicated to me to congratulate my huge “victory”. No one expected me to win. District 8 has a pretty poor relationship with the Capitol because of our rebelliousness. This kept me from getting any help from sponsors. It also didn’t help that I don’t look very strong, I’m shorter than most people my age, and the jobs back home don’t prepare us in the slightest for what’s to come in the arena. That’s not all true, though. I gained enough strength by carrying large amounts of supplies to and from the factories. Boxes full of fabric or Peacekeeper uniforms are much heavier than people think. I used my knowledge of different bugs and berries, used to make dyes, to help me keep from poisoning myself in the arena. My mentor Cecilia told me since I know how to sew, stitch, and weave that I have a good eye and a steady hand. She taught me how to make traps that I could use against other tributes or to catch food. She helped me learn how to use throwing knives, her weapon of choice. That proved to be significantly helpful during the bloodbath. The majority of my games I spent hiding. My arena was a rainforest so it wasn’t difficult to disguise myself. I was then able to trick some tributes with poisonous berries or trapping them in a net made up of vines and leaves. I’m sure it was a riveting show for everyone glued to the broadcast. Not at all traumatizing for them, only for the 17 year old.

“Not enjoying the festivities?” I’m slightly startled when he comes up and stands next to me. Finnick O’dair. The so called Capitol “darling” and youngest to ever win the games. “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. Didn’t meant to catch you off guard.” He laughs.

“And what if I’m not?” I sip my wine and look at him, deadpanned.

“Don’t worry, it only gets worse from here.” He lets out a another light laugh and I hum in response.

“Thanks for the warning. I figured as much.” I think about walking away, but there’s something about him that compels me to stay put. It’s disarming. I don’t figure a Career would be too enjoyable to hang around, yet he has this air to him that I can’t walk away from. Maybe it’s how his tan skin and perfect smile are even more breathtaking in person. I could just be getting hypnotized by his beauty and charm. Which, I’m positive he uses to his advantage. He then turns to face directly in front of me and holds his hand out.

“If you’ll let me, I was hoping I could steal you away for a dance.” He takes my hand and gives it a small peck as I just look at him. I raise my eyebrows in surprise.

“Are you trying to charm me, Finnick O’dair?” He flashes me a perfect smile.

“And what if I am, Silk Fabelle?” He moves his face closer to mine and his voice, as smooth as velvet, is just a whisper. He smells like salty seawater and citrus. The hair on my neck stands up and I can feel the goosebumps creeping up my body. Maybe I am being hypnotized.

“I suppose you can. Hopefully it’ll keep everyone else from talking to me about my riveting games.” I say after clearing my throat and awkwardly adjusting my stance.

“You sure you’re not trying to keep me all to yourself, darling?” I stop and blankly stare at him. He rolls his eyes at me, “I’m kidding. Shall we?” I slowly nod and he escorts me back through the crowd of people.

“So is there a particular reason you decided to make my acquaintance?” I question him. No other previous victors have come to talk with me, at least not yet. It’s just been one vulture after the next. Maybe in his eyes he just saw a damsel in distress that he needed to rescue. He wouldn’t be incorrect per se.

“Maybe I just wanted to finally see your beauty in person. The broadcast is one thing, but there’s nothing like the real deal.” He says when we find a spot on the floor. He takes my waist and gracefully starts to guide me. It’s as if it’s second nature to him. I don’t know how to feel about his flirtations and it makes me a bit uneasy. I don’t know if I can trust him, but I’m not in the games anymore. He’s not another tribute trying to kill me before I kill him first. It sounds like he means what he says, so maybe I’m just overthinking it.

“You sure are quite the charmer, but I’m having a hard time believing that’s the only reason.”

“Oh please, I can’t just dance with a pretty girl? Must I have a motive?” I can feel his thumb rubbing my back. That plus the dancing is making me dizzy. My head feels like it’s spinning, but it could just be the wine causing that effect.

“Do you?” I press him, trying to remain focused, and he looks at me so softly.

“I just thought you might’ve been struggling to stay afloat. This place..these people..they’ll drown you. To them we aren’t real people we’re just toys. Entertainment. I remember how I felt when this was my party and I guess I just didn’t want you to have to go through that alone.” The playful banter has dropped and he speaks so genuinely. He’s not at all what I expected. I’ve only ever looked at careers with aversion. The way they suck up to the Capitol and get almost doted on in return. But they’re still district citizens. Even if they are on better terms with the Capitol, it doesn’t mean they aren’t part of this continuous punishment. They’re pawns in this game like everyone else, they just play differently.

“So you’re telling me no one whisked you away to save you at your victory party” I tilt my head when asking.

“Afraid not, sweetheart.” Even with his flirtatious banter back on I can see that there’s a sadness in his eyes. Like this confidence that he radiates is just an illusion to keep him from sinking. After winning the games they make you think you finally get to be free. You can finally be happy and you don’t have to live in fear. But the games never end. I can see it from the way Finnick looks at me. After you win the torment just continues. There is no freedom.

“I’m sorry you were alone. I appreciate, though, you being here for me even though you don’t know me. I hope..maybe..I can do the same for you.” I say that last sentence quietly. As if I’m not sure if I want him to hear it. I’m not quite sure if I mean it. He squeezes my hand a bit and softly smiles. His dimples showing only slightly.

“I can already see my days getting brighter.” He releases my waist once the song ends and brushes a hand through his golden blonde hair. The lights reflecting off of him in the most picture perfect way. “Unfortunately, I have to go, but it was lovely meeting you Silk.” He kisses my hand once more and walks away after I say goodbye. I’m left feeling frozen in place like a trance has just been lifted. Then, almost immediately I’m being pulled into another meaningless conversation with Capitol citizens. I try to stay present to what’s going on around me, but my mind keeps going back to Finnick O’dair.

*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°

I’m on the train with Cecilia, finally going home after the victory tour. I’ve been sitting at the table moving my fork around my breakfast, too distracted to eat. I haven’t been able to push Finnick out of my mind. There is just something about him that is so alluring and mysterious that my teeth clench from trying to figure him out. I can’t help getting frustrated at myself for thinking only of him. Maybe it’s just because he’s so different from anyone I’ve ever met. His aura is so captivating and it’s like he knows just how to wrap you around his finger.

“How was last night?” Cecilia comes up behind me and takes my plate.

“I wasn’t finished.” I turn and look at her and she rolls her eyes.

“You’ve been pushing that blueberry around with your fork for 10 minutes. You’re finished.” Annoyingly, she’s right. I’m not even hungry anymore. I felt full after just a couple bites. I’ve only been able to eat small meals since leaving the arena.

“Last night was wonderful” she lets out a small laugh at my sarcastic reply.

“Did you meet any of the past victors? It’ll help having some of them close by.” I look down at the table where my plate was.

“I met Chaff and Seeder. They were nice, well, Chaff was a bit..overly friendly..but Seeder was kind. I was told Haymitch would be an ass, but I thought he was alright. Maybe just a bit abrasive.” I shrug. Cecilia hums in response while tapping her fingers on the table. I slightly glance up at her and she looks off and smiles.

“You seem to be leaving a certain person out.” I just look at her. “He’s much more genuine than people give him credit for. You should continue to get to know him. You’re still making allies you know, it doesn’t matter that you’re no longer in the arena.” I nod and turn to look out the window.

The only good thing about being on this train for so long is that I can look at all the trees. I can get lost in them. It brings me some sense of peace with my thoughts being so loud. I don’t know how I’m supposed to go back to normal. How I’m supposed to just go home and move on. How am I supposed to sleep peacefully each night when there are kids that are dead because of me? I’m not. That’s exactly the point. I’m supposed to feel like my insides are eating me alive and have these nightmares. That’s how Snow wants us to feel. He knows that the games will leave you forever traumatized and he loves it. He’s sick and cruel and twisted.

My nails have drawn blood on my arm from gripping myself so tightly. When I get up to grab a napkin, I realize we’re arriving at District 8. I thought I’d be excited to be home but I just feel numb. Nothing is going to be the same and it terrifies me.

*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°

“You’re home” My mother says so softly. She runs up to me and wraps me in a tight hug when I walk into our new house in Victor’s Village. She cradles my head and rubs my back. The comfort she brings me is instant and I feel like I could collapse into her arms. Maybe I will be okay as long as she’s with me.

For my whole life I’ve only had my mother. I don’t remember my dad. He died when I was very young, but I’ve never felt like something was missing without him. I don’t feel his absence. When my father was 16 his older brother was reaped into the games and his death was so painful, that he swore to never have kids. He didn’t want to bring a child into a world where they could be put through something so heinous and vile, but he met my mother and accidents happen. My mother was anxious of course, but she still wanted to have me. She told me that when she realized she was pregnant with me, my father changed. Like some switch had been flipped. He became a completely different person. He was no longer kind, he drank, and he would have these sudden fits of rage. Mom tried to stay with him. To see if he would go back to the way he was. To see if he was just processing everything in some excessively horrible way, but he only got worse when I was born. So she kicked him out. When I was a bit older she told me that he had been shot by a Peacekeeper for some drunken altercation just days later.

My father didn’t want me and I don’t need him. I don’t feel his absence. All I feel is the love and protection that my mother has given me since I was born. She has never made me feel unwanted or like a burden. She is the strongest person I know and means more to me than anything in this world. If it wasn’t for her, I know I wouldn’t have gotten out of that arena.

“I missed you” I muffle into her shoulder. She puts her hands on my face and moves me to look directly at her.

“I missed you, too, my beautiful girl.” She then kisses me on the forehead, “Come with me. I want to show you want I’ve done with the place and then we’ll eat dinner.” She ushers me around the house showing me the different curtains and blankets she’s made. Most of the blankets she knit in our old home while I was in the arena. She told me that was the only thing she could do to keep from losing herself. While I was on my victory tour she sewed the curtains and a new bedspread for me. It’s a beautiful plum color and it makes the room much more cozy and inviting. Mom and I always try our best to make our home full of color to contrast how grey the district is. That way whenever we get home from a long day in the factories it’s an immediate breath of fresh air. We can almost instantly feel the dread of the day lift off our shoulders.

“You seemed to keep yourself busy” I say as she shows me the pillows in the living room.

“What else was I supposed to do to pass the time?” I laugh and smile so lovingly at her. It’s the first time I’ve been happy since getting reaped. I feel an overwhelming amount of relief that I never thought I’d get.

When she’s finished with the tour I follow her into the kitchen and sit at the table. We eat in a comfortable silence. Mom has always known whether I wanted to talk or not. She never tries to pry unless she knows it’ll help. It’s the first time in the while no one has expected anything of me.

A few days pass and I finally start to get a routine going. My mom goes off to work, thankfully not in the Peacekeeper factory, a different one where she makes an assortment of clothing and I start my morning by going just past the border to the shoreline. It’s the only place where grass grows since it’s far away from all the industrial fumes. I like to sit on the rocky beach and listen to the waves. I bring my sketchbook to work on designing clothes to make for the school children since I have the money to now. It’s something to do to keep me busy and help me feel like I’m doing something to help our community.

The walk home is long, but peaceful. I say hello to those moving on from one job to the next. One of the worst things that the Capitol does do the citizens in 8 is make everyone work long, grueling hours. When school lets out for the day the kids don’t get to go home and play. If there’s free time it means there’s time to work. Our labor is exploited and it’s unforgivable.

When I walk into the house it feels wrong. The air isn’t peaceful, it’s unsettling. It’s smells sickly sweet like roses. Everything seems to be in order, but the door to the study is ajar. I put down my bag and slowly walk through the hall making my way to the open door.

“There’s no need to sneak around in your own home. Please, come join me.” His voice is ice cold and it sends shivers up my spine.

“President Snow” I stiffly walk inside the study, “I apologize. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be home.” He’s sitting at the desk that hasn’t been touched since we moved it.

“Sit, I have some matters to discuss with you.” He gestures to the chair on the other side of the desk and I sit down, “I hope you enjoyed your victory tour.”

“Yes, sir. I did.” I clear my throat my uncomfortably and cross my arms to try and ground myself. I attempt to keep myself from digging my nails into my skin.

“Good, I’m pleased to hear that. I’ve heard lovely things about you. You’re well liked. Many of my colleagues have taken an interest towards you.”

“An interest, sir?” A pit opens in my stomach.

“Yes, Miss Fabelle. A sizable interest, in fact. And this is something that I cannot ignore. You see, these are the kinds of colleagues that sponsor the games and events such as your victory party.” He says as if it’s something I even wanted. He stands and starts to pace around the desk. The overwhelming smell of roses wafts back and forth with each turn. I can feel the nausea starting to grow. “The desire for you has grown quite large and I would hate to disappoint. I understand where they’re coming from. You are indeed a beautiful young woman. So, will you cooperate?” I could’ve gagged right then. He hasn’t said it outright, but I understand him clearly. These people want me. They want my body. His sinister smile grows when he notices how much I’m gripping onto my arms.

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” I say looking down at my lap. I know I don’t, but a small part of me hopes that if I ask he won’t make me. But that’s just a silly dream. To believe that I could have a choice in any of this. My body isn’t mine. My life isn’t mine. It all belongs to him.

“Of course you have a choice, Miss Fabelle.” He sits back down and my head shoots up to look him in the eye. “But certain choices have consequences. And it would be very unfortunate for perhaps, your mother, to deal with the consequences of your actions.” He sits back down, clearly satisfied with how this talk is going.

The nausea is only getting worse. My mother. He would kill my mother. The only person I have. The only person that I love. Not only is she important to me, she’s important to this district. She’s always been a strong force in the community. She helps those in need in any way she can. She stands up for what she believes in. She’s part of the rebellion that may or may not even come. If something were to happen to her it would end me, but it would also impact so many of those around me. I couldn’t live with myself if something were to happen to her.

“I understand, sir.” I speak so softly, so defeated.

“Good, I’m very pleased.” He stands up to leave, but not before leaving the flower from his coat pocket on the desk. I walk with him to the front door, trying to hold back the tears that are threatening to fall, and he takes a small look around the space. “Thank you for meeting with me, Miss Fabelle. I hope you are enjoying your new home. You seem to have settled right in. It’s very…eclectic. Oh, and I almost forgot to congratulate you on your victory. You did very well. Until next time.” He smiles so sickeningly and then finally leaves. How kind of him to congratulate me. As if him being proud would somehow fill me with such joy and satisfaction.

The nausea finally hits me with full force and I run to the bathroom to empty the contents in my stomach. The smell of stale roses still fills the air and it continues to make me gag. Once I feel well enough to get up, I brush my teeth and head to my room. I don’t even make it to my bed before I collapse, my sobbing overtaking my body. I feel so disgusting. How can this be allowed? How can they force me to kill other people’s children and then this? Is this what they think freedom is? I don’t have to worry about dying anymore, but I have to sell my body. And if I don’t, I have to fear for the life of the person I love most in the world? How am I supposed to do something so vile? How am I supposed to continue to survive like this? I feel like ripping my hair out. Like scratching at my skin until there’s nothing left but bone.

I rush into my bathroom and run a cold shower. I have to calm down. I have to find a way to live with this and keep my mother oblivious. The only way I know how to do that right now is by washing this whole afternoon off of me. Pretending none of it happened. And that’s what I’ll continue to do. When the time comes for me to visit the Capitol again, I’ll just pretend none of it is real. It’s all a dream. A sick, twisted, horrifying dream. And I’ll just have to go from there.

*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°

Thank you so much for reading chapter 1! This is my first ever fanfiction that I’ve written so I know it’s far from perfect. I’m growing with my writing as I go, but I hope you still enjoy it! I appreciate any kind feedback!

tag list <3 (I tagged some of y'all who just liked the related posts so I hope thats okay)

@ghoulbabs @lusy98 @marvelescvpe @simplymurdock @marcyss @miserablebl00d @wife-of-all-dilfs @mrsnancywheeler

Next Chapter!

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emmalandry · 4 months

Text

⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆

𝙳𝚊𝚢 𝟷𝟷: 𝙿𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚕 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔

⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆

Finnick chasing you down throughout the woods. Feet stomping as they hit the dirt. You’re turning your head left and right trying see how much he’s gaining on you.

Your clumsiness causes you to run face first into a tree. Falling to the ground as you’re snatched ahold of by your tanktop. Feet dangling as Finnick lifts you into the air. Pinning you against the large oak tree by your delicate throat as he flexes his fingers around your airways.

His teeth are scraping down your neck as he licks and sucks dark purple marks into the flesh. Veiny hand smoothing down your body and up into your skirt as they glide over the core of your panties. He pulls them aside as he slips his slender fingers inside your dripping cunt.

He can feel your core clenching around him. Bucking your hips as your eyes roll back into your skull. “Feelin’ good pretty girl?” He asks, tilting his head to the side and giving you his signature cocky grin.

All you can do is nod as a shriek rips from your throat as your orgasm crashes down on you. You see him slip his fingers into his mouth, moaning at the taste of you.

⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆

#finnick odair #finnick x reader #thg finnick #finnick x you #finnick imagine #hunger games finnick #finnick x y/n #finnick fanfic #finnick o’dair #Hunger games #the hunger games #catching fire #hunger games catching fire #12 days of smuff #12 days of smut #12 days of ficmas #12 days of smutmas #12 days of christmas

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xob1tchs · 8 months

Text

kinktober ‘23 — 🎃

a/n; im nervous for kinktober but also excited bc if i do it…then you guys will be well fed and I won’t need to write during break and stuff 🤗 also it’s fun to write little works and oneshots based around a kink or scenario instead of having to write a whole story with like…plot 💀 anyways!!! happy spooky season 👻‼️ taglist is now closed…but if you still want to keep up with my kinktober celebration, check back on this masterlist!! all fics will be linked as they are posted 😋 u can also find all fics by searching the tag “— kinktober ‘23 🎃” on my page.

warnings; smut, angst, strong sexual themes, violent sexual scenarios, dark romance themes, all x fem!reader.

characters; ethan landry, jake sully, stiles stilinski, rafe cameron, tobias eaton/four, bruce wayne, finnick o’dair.

d-1 ; ethan landry x breeding kink (drabble)

d-2 ; stiles stilinski x somnophilia (oneshot)

d-3 ; bruce wayne x pain kink (drabble)

d-4 ; rafe cameron x size kink (oneshot)

d-5 ; jake sully x mirror sex (drabble)

d-6 ; finnick o’dair x pussy drunk (drabble)

d-7 ; four x dumbification (oneshot)

d-8 ; rafe cameron x exhibitionism (oneshot)

d-9 ; stiles stilinski x over stimulation (drabble)

d-10 ; jake sully x cunnilingus (drabble)

d-11 ; bruce wayne x age gap (drabble)

d-12 ; stiles stilinski x reverse age gap (drabble)

d-13 ; ethan landry x step sis (oneshot)

d-14 ; four x wax play (drabble)

d-15 ; finnick o’dair x submisson (drabble)

break from 16th through 20th 🎃

d-21 ; ethan landry x creampie (oneshot)

d-22 ; stiles stilinski x expeditionism (drabble)

d-23 ; jake sully x sensation play (drabble)

d-24 ; four x bondage (drabble)

d-25 ; bruce wayne x phone sex (drabble)

d-26 ; rafe cameron x sex tape (oneshot)

d-27 ; finnick o’dair x dub con (drabble)

d-28 ; four x breath play (drabble)

d-29 ; stiles stilinski x dacryphilia (oneshot)

d-30 ; bruce wayne x fear play (drabble)

d-31 ; mystery fic!?

#ethan landry smut #stiles stilinski smut #finnick odair smut #jake sully smut #rafe cameron smut #bruce wayne smut #tobias eaton smut #kinktober

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toomanyfandomsimfanvergent · 1 year

Note

🩰, haymitch’s daughter!reader x Finnick O’Dair

My 800 follower celebration is still going on through March 1st!

Finnick Odair x Abernathy!Reader

Summary: You attend a Capitol party!

Genre: 99% fluff

Warnings/Tags: Finnick Odair x reader (romantically), established relationship, Abernathy!reader, female!reader, Haymitch Abernathy x Reader (Platonic), sweetness, a few kisses, nothing super explicit, a few curse words, mention of prostitution, finnicks work, few sentences about THG

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Finnick finally found you in the crowd of crazily dressed capitol assholes. The party was begining to get extremely suffocating and he needed to find you.

"Hello darling," he whispered in your ear before sneaking off with you to a bare corner. His eyes quickly dart around the room looking for an escape.

"Left," you whisper and he sees the door you were referring to. God, these stupid parties got old very fast. Especially after years of them.

Finnick grabs your hand and carefully navigates the way to the door, without getting caught up in any unruly conversations.

You both reach the door way and sneak into the hallway. You rest your head against the nearest wall and finnick wraps his arm around you. He presses a kiss to your forehead before resting his forehead against yours.

You both sit in silence, listening to the others breathing and heartbeat, for what fells like eternity. He finally pulls away and you place a quick kiss to his lips.

He smiles before giving you a proper kiss. His lips crash onto yours, the excitement of sneaking away from the party combined with the wine you had oth been sipping, makes every sloppy move feel eletric.

His lips move in sync with yours as his tongue begins to find it's way into your mouth. He finally breaks the kiss and you lean back.

"And then we get to do all of these again tomorrow night," finnick complains. These parties did suck. I mean, who wants to hang out with rich dickheads that think prostituting teenagers is acceptable?

The answer is no in their right mind.

"Hey, don't worry. It will all be over soon," you remind him. Sure, the parties were held almost every few days, but there was a small loophole.

You and finnick were both victors. The 74th Hunger Games would be starting soon. You would be training district twelve, and he would be training district four.

In a few weeks the both of you would have very few parties to attend. The only downside was, well, everything you would be doing.

Training kids for their certain death was hard. If you weren't being forced to prance around and sleep with every rich asshole who had the money, you were helping aid the Capitol in murdering innocent children. It was great.

"At least we will be together a little bit," finnick says with a smile before kissing you again. When everything was wrong, finnick could count on you to make it all right.

His lips moved in syc with yours. The buzz of the alcohol and the adrenaline from kissing him made you forget everything. His tongu-

"I don't like seeing your tongue down my daughter's throat," Your dad says, clearing his throat. Finnick jumps at the man's voice and moves a few steps away.

"Much better," Your dad says before drunkenly stumbling off. He had coping mechanisms all right. There was a reason you helped train the kids. Your dad hates that you had to participate.

"Let's go suffocate," Finnick jokes as he grabs your hand and leads you back into the party. Everything was wrong, but a few right things could make you forget it.

Even if it's just for a few minutes.

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Requests are open! Reblogs and feedback are always enjoyed!

#finnick odair x reader #hunger games finnick #finnick x reader #800 followers event #800 followers celebration #800 followers #800 followed celebration #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair #Finnick odair x Abernathy!reader #Fanfic #Blurb #finnick zootopia #finnick x you #haymitch x reader #haymish

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desireve · 5 months

Text

drunk sickness ¡

finnick o’dair x fem!reader

summary : as much as you hated the capitol and their precious darling, that night, alcohol wasn’t enough.

authors note : omg my first one-shot, it's a kind of - enemies to lovers to crisis, hope you like it! i may write more about these two.

If Finnick knew what the taste of lovesickness was like, he would have already chosen whiskey. The chaos of loving someone made his heart senseless.

That night, at the Capitol's party, in the dimmest corner, they looked at each other, surrounded by smoke that filled their lungs. Finnick's presence was surrounded by eager women, but they failed to capture his attention. His focus, fixed on that woman.

Meanwhile, y/n drowned her sorrows in red wine and smoke, feeling burning eyes that hinted at a plea for union. Locked in a haze, y/n sensed the influence of alcohol as she saw sea-green eyes piercing her. She rose, seeking refuge in a corner away from prying creatures, knowing that only those warm, lustful eyes mattered.

she walked down, the satin dress swaying with her legs, finally face to face. "Take me away from here," she demanded, and Finnick complied, leaving the eccentric women all alone. They went behind that big white mansion, less eyes, soft music and moonlight shining that tan skin and the satined body.

“we shouldn’t..” he whispered looking the cigarette smoke dragging out of her lips. Finnick felt his head spin, need crippling his skin and making reason evaporate. “I’m sick and tired of this, o’dair.” she spat, her whisper full of frustration. “please..” he approached, putting his arms on her shoulders.

"Don’t you see?" she cuts him off, her whisper was soft, a delicate undertone. "This act of me avoiding you, you avoiding me and yet we always end up together." Finnick was speechless, a heavy sigh escaping him, shoulders slouching in defeat. She had a point; his pretending was becoming increasingly pathetic. She was the death of him, a scarlet fever he couldn't escape.

He approached her, uncomfortably close, his hands sliding onto her wrists. Despair swirled in his sea eyes, letting them talk replacing any futile word he could have uttered. She sighed once more, the silence inducing dizziness, her head spinning. fuck red wine.

"Kiss me."

The tense silence was short-lived. Those words hung in the air, making them both uneasy under the moonlight. His eyes stuck on her lips, he finally broke that tension.

Their breaths synced, heavy and eager, their lips hungry, to taste to bite to bleed.

"Just- quick.." he whispered, his soft lips brushing against hers. A soft gasp escaped her as his tongue traced the outline of her mouth, causing his breath to quicken. Desperate to get closer, she pulled him in and they clung to each other. But as quickly as the moment came, it was gone, leaving them both breathless. With a sigh, he finally pulled away, his head spinning as he fought to catch his breath while her lips burned with the heat of their first kiss.

Under the watchful eyes of the Capitol, their drunken haze making this feel all right.

screaming, crying and throwing up.

#finnick odair imagine #finnick x reader #finnick odair #the hunger games #hunger games imagine #finnick odair x reader #female reader #x reader #love sickness #fluff #agnst

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l5byrinth · 2 months

Text

evermore

“and when i was shipwrecked, i thought of you.”

pairing: finnick o’dair x reader

summary: even in the dark times, even when the pain seemed to be for evermore, the thought of you made that all go away.

requested!

warnings/contains: angst maybe, fluff, lmk if i should add more

a/n: with this fic i realised how bad i actually am in writing. i apologise anon for not doing your request any justice i will probably rewrite or edit it once i’ve finished writing all the requests. TYSM for this request tho i absolutely love writing tswift inspired fics 🤭🤭

Where did it all go wrong.

That was the question that kept you up at night and haunted you during the day. It was strange how, no matter how hard you tried to please people, they still found a reason or way to stab you in the back. Finnick was one of the many people, who obeyed the capitols every wish. The main reason being to save his loved ones. And even that wasn’t enough.

No, because the people wanted entertainment, they wanted something more. They wanted to be astonished, blown away.

You knew that by now. Because why else would president Snow make the decision to reap from the existing pool of victors. Because why else would the love of your life, the person you called your home be reaped again. It was all to satisfy the capitol and make them feel even more powerful than they already are.

The moment the woman from the capitol fished a small piece of paper out of the bowl with the reaped one’s name on it, you knew it would be Finnick. When she said the first letter, your prediction was confirmed. And without even hearing the entire name, you broke out into tears.

You watched as your boyfriend tried to be nonchalant about it, smiling through the pain like he always did. But when they zoomed in on his face, you were crying uncontrollably. It didn’t help that you weren’t allowed to come with him either.

However, until the day he left the district you both lived in, you never left his side. Even if it weren’t allowed, even if it meant being threatened by the peacekeeper. Frankly, you couldn’t care less, because all you could care about was your Finnick. The one who was about to relive the torture he did when he was fourteen all over again.

All you could do now was watch him through a screen, something about it bringing some sort of comfort. Because you could see him.

The day of the ceremony was a tough one.

You could tell from everything you saw of him, that the stress and anxiety had gotten to him.

And you were right. He couldn’t function properly without you by his side. Finnick felt as if all the life was sucked out of him and that he would never feel alive again. Nonetheless, he smiled like he was enjoying fighting for his death again. He had to put on a show or else his chances of survival would decrease.

The way the crowd cheered when he was standing next to Caesar flew over his head. Because his thoughts were absolutely consumed by you. Flickerman talked to him, but he didn’t process a single word he was saying. “I heard from a little bird that you have message for somebody. A special somebody.” Caesar said, emphasising the special as he looked at the audience with a smug look.

Finnick’s smile turned more genuine when Flickerman mentioned the special somebody, which was you. The thought of hopefully seeing you again was the only thing keeping him from going insane. So with you in his mind, he started talking in the microphone. “My love,” The crowded room screamed hysterically, but he talked over it, his lips quivering, “You have my heart. For all eternity.”

The image of you sitting on the couch popped into his head and he wished desperately that he was with you right now. “And if…” He continued, but he had a hard time finding the right words. Flickerman nodded at him encouragingly, wondering where this was leading. “If I die in that arena… my last thought will be of your lips.” Your boyfriend tried his best to hold his composure and appear calm and confident, but inside he was breaking down.

After that, the games went by in a blur. The only thing you could vividly remember during the hard times, was the dream you had about Finnick. A dream that you would cherish forever, because it gave you hope of him surviving.

Soon enough, before you knew it, the capitol had taken you because of what happened during the quarter quell. You were watching the games, hoping that the plan your lover and his allies had made would go well. And remember Katniss shooting a bow at the middle of the dome. Before you knew it, the peacekeepers were infiltrating your house. They took you with them, but you can’t recall exactly how and what happened then.

When being held captive by the capitol, Finnick was the only thing you thought about. You weren’t aware if he was alright or not and it scared you more than anything. You snapped out of your thoughts when there was a knock on your door. President Snow himself walked in, accompanied by a woman you had seen by his side a lot recently. It took everything in your power not to jump at and attack him, so you did in your imagination. You imagined strangling him as he talked to you, however, you didn’t care one bit about what he was saying.

But as soon as your lover’s name was mentioned, your ears perked up. “We will find him, dear. And when he sees you, it won’t be long before he will leave district thirteen.”

Some kind of joy bloomed inside your chest, because even though his statement scared you, you were relieved that your Finnick was alive and well.

Finnick didn’t know anything about your state, but he blamed himself for everything that happened to you. He shut himself in his room all day, thinking about you, wishing he was with you, thinking about how things would be like in an alternative universe. He wasn’t aware of his surroundings anymore, being absolutely consumed by and in his thoughts.

Your name was the only word that left his mouth.

One day, Finnick heard about the plans to save you, Johanna and Peeta. And from that day on, he was more involved in everything that happened. Because all he wanted was for you to be with him again and he would do everything it took to get

you back to him. The day of executing the plan finally came and it went by swiftly, however for Finnick, it felt as if a million years passed by. Everything felt out of place without you.

After his interview, which was meant to distract both president Snow and the capitol, he rushed to Katniss. He interrogated her about if it had worked, but even she was unsure if it was a success.

Finnick waited for hours, pacing through his room anxiously. The only thing running through his mind being you, like always. He started to realise how just the thought of you had brought him so far. Because without you, he wouldn’t have cared if he passed away in that arena. Without you, he wouldn’t do his best to keep himself alive and to openly talk about what Snow did to him. Because for you, he would do anything. Anything you wanted him to do.

When he heard yelling coming from down the hall, his eyes widened. Was it possible that they were back with you guys already? Finnick didn’t waste any time and before he knew it, he was standing next to Katniss, waiting for Coin to tell them what was going on. But when he saw Johanna lying on a hospital bed, he knew enough.

You were somewhere here too.

He greeted Johanna, thankful that she was saved as well, before looking around to find you. Finnick asked every person he ran into, anyone that might know where you were. But everyone was so busy with everything they were doing, that they didn’t respond to him.

At this point, Finnick entered any room there was, in hopes to find you after the long separation. He searched every room, investigated every hall, but there was no sign of you.

Your lover was frantically looking around, when you awoke. And even though you were unaware about where you were, the only thing that mattered was that Finnick was right there. You wanted to call out his name, but there was no sound coming out of your mouth.

But you didn’t need words, because your boyfriend could feel your presence. When your gazes locked, Finnick didn’t waste a second when making his way over to you. He pushed away everyone that crossed his path, and pushed the doctors surrounding you aside.

Finnick halted right next to you, tears swelling up in both your and his eyes. He picked you up, not caring about the man that told him not to. He wrapped his arms around you so strongly, you were sure you would never get out of his grip.

Many tears left your eyes as you were finally in the arms of your home.

Finnick pulled away after a long time and took a good look at you, before pressing his lips against yours like a starved man. Hungry for you and your touch, he kissed you like you were all alone, with no one around. The only reason the two of you pulled away, was the lack of oxygen, and when you did you flashed him a smile.

“I finally kissed the lips that were on my mind the entire time.” Finnick whispered, his arms still wrapped around you. With a chuckle you planted another kiss on his lips, before pulling him in again for another hug. Being with your lover restored all the hope and will to live again.

And with him you were sure, that this pain wouldn’t be for evermore.

#finnick odair #fluff #finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #the hunger games #thg fanfiction #thg finnick #finnick oneshot #finnick x y/n #finnick x you #finnick imagine

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gogobootz1 · 12 hours

Text

The Mentor Pt. 7

Finnick Odair x Reader

Summary: Your Hunger Games strategy goes off the rails when a friend comes to you with a plan

Part 6

“Look kid, this isn’t like last time, you’re not on a level playing field here.”

Katniss crossed her arms as she leaned back into the couch of District Twelve’s Capitol penthouse.

“These are Capitol darlings, lethal weapons, murderers one and all, gathered neatly together for an All Stars round. Of these stars, you are space dust. Recency may be on your side, but little else. They are older, stronger,”

Peeta effectively interrupted, “Who are they?”

“What?” Haymitch blinked.

“Take us through them. Surely you can offer some insight, after knowing them all these years,” he shrugged.

“I’ll ignore the fact you just called me old,” the older man walked off to grab the tablet that controlled the TV. District by district, he took his tributes through their competition.

When he got to District Four, Katniss beat him to it, “Finnick O’Dair, right?”

“Yes,” Haymitch confirmed, “he won his games at fourteen. Youngest ever. Extremely humble.” The image of the tall, bronzed man sauntering across their screen seemed to disagree.

“You’re kidding,” she deadpanned.

“Yes! I’m kidding,” Haymitch snapped. “He’s a,” he dramatically moved his hair, “peacock. A total preener. But he’s the Capitol Darling, they love him here. Charming, smart, and very skilled at combat. Especially in water.”

“What about weaknesses?” Peeta leaned forward.

“One,” Haymitch confirmed, “Mags. She was his mentor and basically raised him. If he’s trying to protect her in any way it exposes him.”

“A guy like that has to know she’s not gonna make it. I bet when it really comes down to it he won’t protect her,” Katniss shrugged.

“Well, Katniss,” Haymitch said, “I just hope when she goes she goes quickly. She’s actually a wonderful lady.”

Katniss blinked guiltily at his statement, and Peeta leaned back into the couch.

“But if he does ally with her it’ll make him less of a threat,” Peeta offered.

Haymitch let out a sour little laugh, “Oh, we’ll get to his allies.”

Peeta winced when Haymitch later marked the intimidating young woman from District Seven as one, and was surprised at the lack of others.

By the time he got to Ten, Katniss was antsy, “Can we wrap this up?”

“Sure if you want to ignore a huge fucking threat,” Haymitch shrugged.

“It looks like a strong gust of wind would blow him over,” Katniss complained.

“Not him,” her mentor snapped, clicking forward, “Darla Kennedy.”

Their attention went back to the screen when another young woman appeared, stepping forward and giving an assured nod to the cameras.

“Darla is young, well connected, and deadly with a whip,” Haymitch began.

“Who’s that behind her?” Peeta interrupted, noticing the woman peace keepers were escorting off stage.

“Well, since you mentioned it,” he rewinded the feed to when the young women were standing next to each other. “That,” he pointed to the one they weren’t familiar with, “is Darla’s mentor. One of the most popular tributes to ever come out of the games, and maybe the best mentor I’ve ever met.”

“How do you mean?” Peeta pressed.

“She saved Darla’s life about four times during her games with just wit and a warm smile,” he shrugged, “if she wanted a sponsor there’d be twenty knocking down her door. Kid’s a magnet, and a brilliant strategist. Not to mention, a great drinking buddy,” Haymitch finished.

“Not helpful,” Katniss griped, and the man rolled his eyes.

“Point is, if you don’t think she’s calling on every favor she’s owed and pulling every string in her arsenal to save that girl, you’re dead wrong. Darla’s practically all she has left,” Haymitch elaborated, “but both Ten ladies are good friends with Finnick.”

“Finnick?” Peeta asked, surprised.

“Not that he’d need the help with sponsors,” Haymitch shrugged, “but no doubt it’ll be a scary alliance. One you might consider joining.”

“No way,” Katniss scoffed.

“Like I said, I’m friends with their mentor, I could hook you up,” he doubled down.

“Not interested,” she grunted.

“Look,” Haymitch sat on the coffee table across from them, “you’re starting at a disadvantage. Most of these people have been friends for years.”

“That just puts us higher on their kill list,” Katniss snapped, crossing her arms.

“Do it your own way,” Haymitch shrugged, “but I know these people. You go it alone, their first move is gonna be to hunt you down. Both of you.” He left the room before his words even sank in.

————————————

Your fingers twitched while you waited for Darla to wake up. Sometimes you cursed yourself for being an early bird, but after your games you couldn’t help but get up with the sun. Some lasting self-preservation instinct had always been your theory. You had a plan for her, not that she’d like it.

Shuffling from the hall caught your attention, and you perked up to see her walking toward the breakfast table half-awake.

“Morning,” you said, quickly. She just grunted as she poured herself some coffee. “I want to run something by you.”

She took a sip of coffee, placing pastries from the breakfast spread onto her plate. When she realized you weren’t still talking she looked up, and gestured for you to go on.

“I want you and Finnick working together,” you started.

Darla interrupted, mouth full of croissant, “Obviously, that was just a given.”

You clenched your jaw a bit, but barreled on, “and I want the two of you working with Johanna and-“

“No!” She cut you off, nostrils flared. “That’s a recipe for disaster, and you know it.”

“It’s the best plan I’ve got,” you fired back, “the Capitol knows the two of you were together. They’ll eat your dynamic right up, and keep you alive long enough for you to keep making good television.”

She looked indignant, but you doubled down, “Johanna is a strong fighter, and with Finnick distracted protecting Mags you’ll need to beef up your alliance. If Blight comes with her, the five of you can square off evenly against the careers.”

“We’re sure Finnick won’t want to join the pack?” Darla raised a brow, and you blinked at her in surprise.

“You really think he’d do that?” You asked, voice light. Would he? You were so certain of his character you hadn’t even considered the possibility. But the games always changed things- changed people. When she made a face at you, you shook it off, “You know he loves Mags, he wouldn’t just leave her. And the careers are too pragmatic to take on someone they see as dead weight.”

“Good thing I’m not pragmatic, then,” Darla said wryly, taking a bite of a fruit tart.

Pragmatic, no. Entertaining, yes. Watching Finnick care for Mags would melt hearts across the nation, and they wouldn’t be able to turn the cameras away from two bickering exes. Putting on a show was the first step to a one way ticket out of the arena. You just didn’t want to think about which one of your friends would be the one to take it.

Your strategy started as soon as the train pulled into the station. Walking onto the platform with an arm over Darla’s shoulder, and big smiles on both of your faces. If there was ever a time to appeal to the audience it was now. Normally you’d shy away from questions, but with a few cameras you were eager to assert your tribute early.

“We’re always happy to visit the Capitol! You all make us feel so welcome here!” Darla assured a reporter. So she had taken your strategy briefing to heart.

“While we wish we could be seeing you under better circumstances,” you jumped in, “we’re certainly going to make the most of our time here. You might just get sick of seeing us!” You laughed with the reporter, touching her wrist lightly.

From there you were off to the races, starting a campaign of phone calls in the car. Scheduling an appearance on daytime TV to talk up Darla, conversing with the connections you’d made over the years, and making appointments for drinks or coffee occupied your afternoon.

Darla took the time to settle in to the space, flicking through magazines on the couch as you talked your throat dry. After hanging up on another Capitolite, you scratched some more notes on the meticulous schedule you’d started.

“Time for a break?” Darla asked from the other room after a minute of silence.

“Time for a drink,” you complained, but caught a glimpse of the time. “Shit!”

“What?” She asked as you ran to the room you’d stayed in during your annual visits.

“I’m meeting Mrs. Montgomery for dinner!” You shouted back.

“Who?”

Within ten minutes you stumbled back out in a short, but stylish cocktail dress.

“How do I look?” You asked, shoving your feet into a small pair of heels as you smeared lipgloss on your mouth.

“Stellar,” Darla assured you, not bothering to look up from her magazine.

You were busy clipping your hair up, assessing your appearance in the microwave’s reflection. “Really?” You fretted, finally turning toward her.

“Absolutely!” She said enthusiastically, still not looking up.

Your shoulders dropped, “Fuck off!” Grabbing your purse, you headed for the door.

“Love you too! Thanks for all you do for-“

The slamming door cut her off, and she snickered.

Mrs. Montgomery was over the moon that’d you’d asked her out to dinner, and recommended her favorite spot in the city. Luckily it was only a few blocks away, and with some extra incentive your driver floored it. You walked into her embrace right on time, and successfully reminded her of how much she adored you for an hour.

Long ago you had learned just how much Capitolites liked to talk about themselves, and you used it to your advantage more often than not. Questions like, “How are your students? I so regret I haven’t been able to visit recently!” Were unbelievably well received, and further endeared you to the very wealthy woman who sat across the table.

Finally, she came to address the elephant in the room, “I’m sure it’s hard for you to be here under these circumstances.”

You nodded, “It is. This is my home away from home, but I can’t help but worry for Darla.” She nodded sympathetically, you had her hooked, but it was time to reel her in, “She’s so so capable, and I know she’ll go far, but I need her to come home.”

Mrs. Montgomery reached across the table for your hand, “We’ll be happy to sponsor Darla.” She spoke on behalf of herself and her ultra-rich husband, who you’d have the displeasure of meeting as a client.

“It would mean so much to me to have yours and Mr. Montgomery’s support. Please tell him I asked after him, by the way,” you squeezed her hand gently. You might come to regret it later, but what was the point of being forced to have a roster if you couldn’t put them to good use. The man was richer than God, and had requested your company on multiple occasions. An appeal to his wife and to him, though indirectly, would go far. You could face any consequences later.

You paid for dinner yourself, though Mrs. Montgomery did protest, earning even more points towards your cause. A warm goodbye hug marked your departure, and soon enough you were B-Lining to the hotel bar in the lobby of the training center.

—————

“If it isn’t my favorite District Twelve victor,” an airy voice pulled Haymitch’s attention from the glass of bourbon he’d been swirling. Pleasantly surprised to see you, he turned the futuristic stool next to him in your direction.

“Well, have a seat, your highness,” he invited, and you settled in at the bar. “What are you drinking?”

“Surprise me,” you set your purse on the counter. He slid you his untouched glass of bourbon. “Lazy,” you complained, before taking a sip.

“You’re just the gal I’ve been wanting to see,” a small smile spread across his thin lips and raised alarm bells in your mind.

“Why’s that?” You asked cautiously.

“Let’s go for a walk,” he stood from his chair, but you shook your head.

“Let’s not,” you weren’t aiming to be associated with Twelve right now. If Capitolites saw the two of you on the street and got to talking, it could be bad for business. Katniss and Peeta made for a good show, but with your finger on the pulse of the Capitol, you could tell when Snow was displeased. That wasn’t an obstacle you currently needed in your way.

Haymitch put his hands up in surrender, “Then I’ll mix you something better.” He winded around to the other side of the bar. Stopping in front of you, he snatched the glass of bourbon back and polished it off. Where the bartender had run off to, you couldn’t say.

“What do you want?”

“Your ear,” he crushed some mint at the bottom of a new glass. “I just don’t want you to waste your efforts.”

Your brow furrowed, he was crazier than you thought if he was asking you to back off, “I spend my energy carefully, thank you.”

“Then spend it on this,” he plopped a mojito in front of you, “your girl makes it out and so does mine.”

You raised a brow, inspecting both him and your drink, “You know that can’t happen.”

“If you pretend we’re flirting while I lean in to tell you the plan it can,” you blinked for a second before meeting him halfway.

“A transport is coming from District Thirteen to pick up Katniss and anyone aiding her from the arena. They want her for the rebellion,” Haymitch breathed into your ear. Pretending you hadn’t just heard literal whispers of treason involving a long-dead district was difficult, but you managed to swallow your shock.

“When?” If true, this would change everything. Your moves would need to incorporate Katniss and Peeta, your endgame would be totally different. But first you had to determine the chances of this going wrong.

“I don’t know yet,” Haymitch whispered.

“Give me something here,” you pleaded, “I can’t work with nothing. How could I trust a pretty promise?”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” he warned, and you angled your head enough so he could see your glare. “You know very well I’m too chicken to take anything less than a sure bet.”

“You’re awful at gambling, and you’re a reckless old drunk,” you snarked quietly back, this wasn’t a risk you could take lightly.

“I’m telling you this because I need your help, and Darla’s, and Finnick’s, and Johanna’s,” he went on, but you cut him off.

“You’re assembling a team of political defectors?”

Haymitch’s nostrils flared, but went on before you could protest further, “We need to keep Katniss alive until Plutarch can get her and her allies out of that arena.”

“Plutarch?” That caught you off guard, and you reeled back. Your volume clearly bothered him, though the bar was empty. Haymitch clapped a hand over your mouth.

“Yes,” he confirmed quietly, scanning the room, “though this is all meant to be secret!”

You smacked his hand away, “Then what is my part in your lovely little treason plot?”

“You need to recruit the others,” Haymitch nodded.

“Excuse me?!”

“Well, as helpful as you’ll be pulling strings from behind the scenes, Katniss needs allies in the arena,” he said.

“You really think they’d commit treason because I asked nicely?” You were skeptical.

“Yes,” he nodded, and you gaped.

Shaking it off, you kept pushing, “What makes you think they’ll work with her? What makes you think she’ll work with them?”

“She doesn’t know about this,” he said sharply, “and she can’t. All they have to do is not kill her, and eliminate those tributes who might.”

“The careers, then,” you tilted your chin up.

“Bingo.”

You took a sip of the now slightly watered mojito, “So what does she know?”

“What you did when you won,” he offered, “shoot to kill, play to win.”

“Will she take any allies?” You asked, taking a deep breath, “You know that’d make things easier.”

“I’m working on it,” he shook his head.

“Yeah, that’s a no,” you huffed a laugh, astounded by the turn of events. Never in a million years would you have seen this coming. You knew Katniss had stirred something up, but had not foreseen a full fledged rebellion on the immediate horizon.

“She needs time,” Haymitch insisted, “Peeta will help her see the logic behind strong allies.”

“And how much does he know?” You set your glass down with a clink. Haymitch just shook his head. Sighing, you barreled on, “I don’t like this, you know?”

“I know,” he nodded, eyes clear and serious. You weren’t sure you’d seen him quite like this before. “But you’ll do it. You don’t want to have to choose between Finnick and Darla.”

Tightening your grasp around the glass, you ran your tongue across your teeth. Fuck if he didn’t have you pinned. If there was even a slight chance you could save them both, you’d take it. Just when Haymitch had realized how deep your affection for Finnick ran, you had no clue. Suddenly, you hoped you weren’t a chatty drunk.

“Your lives will all be better for it,” Haymitch said, “we’ll all be free.” You met his gaze head on, and were surprised to find hope lying in them.

“I’ll talk to D tonight,” you nodded once, “and I’ll get to Fin and Jo.” Haymitch’s shoulders sagged with something like relief. When you clocked Peeta walking in from the other side of the room, you knew it was time to wrap things up. You leaned in close, again.

“But don’t think I’m doing all your dirty work, Old Man,” you said lowly, with a coy grin, “I’m sending them your way!” You planted a quick kiss on his cheek, leaving behind a lip stick print. Quickly grabbing your purse, you sprung off your stool.

With some manufactured pep in your step, you walked towards the blond boy. “Don’t let him fix you a drink, Peeta,” you said, conversationally, “for a drunk, he’s piss poor at it!” The last part was directed at your old pal, who’d now placed the lot of you in a precarious spot.

“I missed you too, Sugar!” He yelled back, wide grin on his face as you sauntered toward the elevator.

Peeta looked at him, amused, but skeptical, “What’d she want?”

“A piece of this!” Haymitch gestured dramatically toward himself, and picked up the glass you’d left behind. Polishing it off, he choked a little at the taste. You’d been right, of course, he was a little rusty at bartending.

——————————

You tugged at the shoulder of Darla’s tribute outfit. When you’d suggested leather to the stylist, this wasn’t what you’d meant. Skin tight, black patent leather reflected sunlight into your eyes. You let your hand come to your brow as you shook your head.

“What?”

You raised a brow at the stylist, one of Darla’s.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“You don’t think it leans a little… kinky?” You shrugged, frustrated.

“Well, you said leather,” the stylist defended themself.

“And you took that as BDSM?”

Darla threw her hands up in the air at your comment, tired of being examined, and wandered off.

You sent the stylist away before they could argue any further. This parade was already a mess. Your plans to put Darla on horseback, to harken back to her first parade, were ruined by Darby’s apparent inability to ride a horse. There was no way you could put her on horseback if those poor creatures were pulling a cart as well. You pet one of the horses that would be pulling the Ten tributes, and the action calmed you a bit. Only, your peace was disturbed when you saw Finnick putting the moves on Katniss.

Of the ways to piss off the standoffish girl you’d been charged with helping protect, he had to pick this one. It took about ten seconds for you to march over and fix it.

“I’m sorry you had to cancel your wedding. I know how devastating that must be for you,” you overheard. His voice oozed with sarcasm and you rolled your eyes.

“Is this strange man bothering you, Katniss?” You didn’t wait for a response before dragging him off by his ear.

“Hey, now,” he complained, but kept at your side. “Peeta,” Finnick tried for a dignified nod as you passed him, but came up short.

“Finnick,” he nodded back, gaze turning to you.

“Bye, Peeta!” You waved with your free hand.

“See ‘ya, Sugar,” he waved back, kindly.

Finnick planted his feet, freeing himself in an instant, “Sugar?!” He stood to his full height and shot the Twelve tribute a sour look. You rolled your eyes and started dragging him by the wrist instead. While you were going to correct Peeta, you no longer saw a point.

“Sugar?” Katniss questioned too, a skeptical look on her face.

“Is that not her name?” Peeta was confused. “That’s what Haymitch called- oh,” he seemed to have answered his own question, and Katniss let out a small laugh.

“What was that?” You asked Finnick, when you’d finally pulled him to a secluded area.

“What? I was just being nice,” he defended himself, about to pop a sugar cube in his mouth. You plucked it from his hand and tossed it over you shoulder. Finnick blinked.

“So I was trying to sus her out,” he shrugged, “big deal. If the Capitol finds out their romance is a lie, their support goes up in flames… like her little dresses.”

You rolled your eyes. If you were still playing to win, you would’ve liked his angle, but as it was, you had to steer the ship back on course. “Play nice with her, would you? I’m working on something.”

“You’re working on something that includes the girl on fire?”

You grabbed his wrist, “Keep it quiet and come find me later. Find Haymitch too!” Sensing the parade was about to start, you turned to go.

“Some greeting,” he complained, moodily. You stopped in your tracks, and turned again to face him.

“Did I forget to say hi to you and your abs and your skirt?” You asked facetiously.

“You did” he nodded, “we were offended.” Rolling your eyes amusedly, you stepped up close to him.

“Hello Finnick,” you said, meeting his gaze. “Hi Finnick’s abs,” your gaze moved down as you went, “hi Finnick’s skirt.” You couldn’t help the grin that tugged at your lips as you looked back up at him. “Happy?” You asked.

“Very,” he nodded, soundly.

“Good,” you nodded back.

“I missed that smile.” He said lowly, leaning in a bit. You were really fighting against your grin, now.

“It missed you too,” you said, refusing to make eye contact.

“Really?” His eyes sparkled as he looked down at you.

“Don’t you have a populous to charm?” You tilted your head.

“I’ve got a you to charm, first,” he blinked, innocently. When he reached out to tug on a strand of your hair, you’d had enough.

You lightly swatted his hands away and skittered back, “Go! … Do your parade prep,” you sputtered.

Finnick tried to conceal his laughter at your reaction. He just loved to see you flustered. “If you insist,” he bowed his head and began to trot off. But he couldn’t resist throwing a melodic goodbye over his shoulder and taking one last glance to see you hurry off.

————————————

Finnick wouldn’t see you again until later, though he did try. He eventually found you at a party that night, a young Capitol socialite you were both familiar with was throwing a celebration in honor of the games.

When he saw Darla tearing up the dance floor, he had no doubt that you were behind the appearance, and started scanning the rooms in the penthouse. Finally, he found you hidden away in a quiet spot, typing away on a tablet.

Hard at work securing sponsors, no doubt. If he was lucky, he’d be reaping the rewards of Darla’s 101 sponsor gifts. Maybe you’d even deign to send him a little something. He called your name to pull you from your work.

You looked up from your tablet, curiously. His hand tensed. When did you start wearing glasses? How did they make you look even more-

“Finnick?” You arched a brow.

“Yup?” He said, shoving both hands in his pockets.

You blinked at him from your spot on a couch, “Spaced out there for a second?”

“Yup,” he nodded. You rose to meet him when you noticed he wasn’t moving to sit beside you. He watched the slinky black dress graze your thighs as you walked.

“Are you alright?”

“Yup,” he said, a little breathy.

“Okay,” you said, skeptically, “So in terms of-“

“Sorry,” he interrupted, swallowing, “when did you start wearing glasses?”

“What?” You asked, not quite following his train of thought.

He inched closer and adjusted the frames on your nose as you blinked up at him, “When did this become a thing?”

“I-“ you floundered. Was he blushing?

“Okay, lovebirds,” Johanna breezed into the room. You jolted and Finnick snatched his hands away from your face in surprise. “Wrap it up, I want to hear this brilliant plan of yours.”

She directed the last part towards you. You had found her earlier and told her essentially the same thing you’d said to Finnick. Johanna was surly, sure, but had a soft spot for you. She’d won the year after Darla, and you eventually took her under your wing as well. Not in time to warn her to take Snow’s threats seriously, but soon enough to comfort her before she could spiral too badly.

You tried to shake off the confusing last few moments, “Alright, well, marketing it as my plan was maybe a little disingenuous.” They both seemed confused at your words. “But if it’s the plan I think it is it’s a plan I can get behind,” you rushed out

“Are we throwing a surprise party? What the hell are you talking about?” Johanna asked.

“Look, I,” you did a quick glance around the room, and motioned for them to follow you. They both did, but it only further soured Johanna’s mood. When you found a private enough corner, you told them what Haymitch had told you.

“So what? We have to protect pretty little princess for a free ticket out of here?” Johanna spat.

“Basically,” you nodded. Looking over at Finnick, you tried to gauge his reaction. He hadn’t said anything, and still seemed deep in thought.

You knew neither of your friends were fond of the Capitol. They had both lost more than they’d care to admit to these people, but you couldn’t begrudge them for trying to think this through. You’d spent a few hours doing the same before you brought it to Darla last night, and she had to sleep on it.

“Look,” you tried again, “the reality is, she probably won’t ally with you. I still think the smartest thing to do would be to bring both your district partners and Darla into an alliance of five. If you can manage to knock out some threats to her, you can bide your time until the free plane ride.”

They both seemed to relax a bit at that, but there was still some hesitance. “You really think throwing Darla and I together is a smart move?” Johanna asked smartly.

“I don’t take this lightly,” you said with an air of scolding, “I’m trying to keep you safe. Right now, the only way I know how is asking you to watch each others backs in the arena while I watch yours from here. Can you trust me to do that?”

“Yes,” Finnick chimed in seriously, speaking for the first time in minutes.

Johanna was silent for only a few seconds longer, “Yes. But don’t expect me to be nice to her.”

You weren’t quite sure if she was talking about Katniss or Darla, but either way it didn’t surprise you. You only shrugged at her before she walked away.

“So,” you turned casually back to Finnick, “where were we?” You gave him a quick once over, and he seemed to tense up.

“I think I might turn in,” he nodded quickly, brow furrowed. When you titled your head and shot him a confused glance he barreled on, laughing awkwardly, “Big day tomorrow, super tired, goodnight!” He took smell steps backward with every word before practically bolting.

He breezed past Darla, face a little flushed. She smirked a little at his quick pace, and shook her head as she approached you. “What was that about?” She laughed.

“Beats me,” you shook your head, confused and a more than a little disappointed at his departure. After all, you hadn’t seen him in a few months. Most of your phone calls had circled back to the quell, and you would’ve liked some time together. At least the escape plan had made you more optimistic about your chances of seeing him again.

————————————

“Answer me this,” Darla’s voice startled him the next day at training. “Why’d you leave the party in a rush?”

“Sorry?” Finnick remembered it well, but in the light of day was better able to keep his cool. Damned glasses.

Darla rolled her eyes, “Why don’t you tell me after I kick your ass?” She gestured toward the mats set up in an alcove and started walking that way. He followed her lead and took on a fighting stance.

She started to throw out guesses as he dodged her jabs. “Indigestion?” He blocked a punch. “Had to vomit?” Blocked a kick. “Left the oven on?” Sidestepped a hit. Her barrage continued until he swept her legs out from under her.

Darla landed on the mat without complaint, more concerned with him than with training. “Then what sent you running from my lovely mentor?”

Finnick offered her a hand up, but she swept his legs out too. Lying in opposite directions on the floor, he made his first verbal defense. “What, you don’t get sick of those parties?”

She propped herself up on her elbows and sent him a glare. It was intimidating too, but Darla had learned from the best. “Cut the crap, I know there’s a reason. No way she could fathom being rude to you, so that’s out.” Finnick rolled his eyes as sat up. “And she’s got no game so no way she made you blush.”

“Come on,” he said, defensively, pushing to his feet, “don’t insult her.”

Darla perked up at this, and accepted the hand he had once again offered, “Wait, it was really her that made you blush? What on Earth did she say?”

“Drop it, D,” he warned, stalking off.

“I am so getting to the bottom of this!” She chirped, smiling at his departing figure.

Darla gave him some space for a while, flitting around the various stations. The practical skills called out to her, no use practicing with weapons when she was already as good as she’d get.

When she saw Finnick bothering Katniss she made her way over to intervene. He’d tied a noose around his neck, the cheeky bastard. Just when he held it out for Katniss to take, Darla snatched it and pulled him away.

She heard him wheeze and let up on her grasp. “Fuck,” Finnick choked out as loosened the rope from around his neck. “Darla!” He scolded her once he was properly free.

“Don’t antagonize the girl,” she said, stopping once they were out of ear shot, “and don’t act like you’re not spoken for.”

He didn’t bother replying to the first part, “I’m not spoken for.” Darla shot him a glare, saying you’re really going to pretend I’m wrong? with just her eyes. When he glared back she only shrugged.

“You could be,” she sassed, and he took a sharp breath.

“I don’t think now is the time to-“

“If not now then when?!” Darla whisper-yelled, “Newsflash buddy, you still might die. So do you want to die sad and alone… or spoken for?”

“Do I really come off as sad and alone?” Finnick blinked.

“Only to those who know you,” she shook her head.

“Gee thanks, Darla,” he said flatly.

“It’s my pleasure,” she gave him a friendly yet exaggerated shoulder bump. “Come on, let’s catch the show.” Finnick followed her off to join the crowd forming around Katniss’s simulation session.

Darla could see the faces of the other tributes drop as Katniss put down figure after figure. They were nearly all modeled after the rest of them, and featured their signature weapons at the very least. She clenched her jaw when Katniss shot the female figure holding a whip straight through the face. No mistaking who that was meant to be. She saw Finnick twitch when Katniss shot the figure with a trident through the chest. By the end, it was clear that the girl was absolutely on the level of every person there. If luck was on her side, and she wanted to, she could likely kill each one of them.

Wiress started clapping, and it killed some of the tension in the air. But the quell was getting more interesting by the minute.

——————-

The four of you sat in silence in a both in the empty lounge within the training center. You traced the rim of your drink, hoping Haymitch would arrive soon since he asked you all to meet him there. The casual conversation had died out a bit ago, having run out of outfits to make fun of to keep the conversation light. It was hard not to think about your immediate circumstances.

You shivered a little, still unused to the central air the Capitol pumped through all their buildings. Finnick caught your eye and nodded his head in the other direction, inviting you to scoot closer to him. You would’ve shaken your head if you hadn’t put on a tank top earlier, but you were chilly enough to press up against his side in a bid to steal body heat.

Finnick raised a hand to wave to Haymitch when he saw the older man scanning the place. He settled the arm over your shoulder when he was done. Behind your head, he caught Darla narrow her gaze at him and sent her a look of warning.

“What’s the update?” He asked Haymitch as the man slotted into the space at the edge of the curved booth.

“Well, Katniss is not keen on allies,” he said, instantly off to a bad start, “though she is interested in the District Three Tributes.”

“Excuse me?” Johanna asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “Wiress and Beete.”

“You mean she wants Nuts and Volts for allies?” Darla asked, and heard Johanna try to muffle a snicker. She tried not to smirk at the sound. So much for ‘not understanding her’ or whatever Jo had said during their breakup.

“Look, don’t shoot the messenger,” he defended himself.

“Maybe we should if the message is dumb,” Johanna snarked, crossing her arms.

“She said she liked them,” Haymitch repeated, and the whole table winced. Maybe as people, Darla thought, though even that might be a stretch, but as allies? In terms of physical game it’d be like tying a brick around your ankle. Hadn’t the girl seen anyone else at work? Johanna’s axe skills? The second time she and Finnick had sparred?

“Anyone else?” You tried, hoping for a better result. Haymitch thought for a second before snapping his fingers.

“Yeah, Mags!” Darla groaned, make that two bricks. Finnick used the arm he’d draped across your shoulders to flick Darla in the ear.

“Mags and I are a package deal,” Finnick asserted. Not a chance in hell he’d trust someone else to protect Mags.

“Then my bet would be no deal from the girl on fire,” Haymitch shrugged.

“Ok, so we’re keeping Katniss alive, but Three too?” Darla asked.

“Haven’t we established-?”

“We’ve got it,” you reassured him, and Finnick and Johanna nodded.

“Good,” Haymitch saidd. “We’ll,” he nodded in your direction, “keep in touch through sponsor gifts. But it’ll have to be subtle, so keep your thinking caps on.”

“Is that it?” Johanna asked, bored.

“No actually,” he went on, “when the time comes you’ll have to cut out your trackers and one of you will have to get Katniss’s.”

“Shit,” Darla said.

“Squeamish?” Johanna taunted her from the other side of the table. Haymitch interrupted before a fight could break out.

“Before then,” he said, firmly, “I’d recommend making a big show of the interviews. Last chance to drum up public outrage at this, maybe get it cancelled.” Johanna scoffed at that, but Haymitch kept on, “At the very least it’ll be good for sponsors.”

“He’s right about that,” you nodded, already thinking up possible interview angles for Darla.

Haymitch grinned, “I’ll see you all there.” He pushed away from the table, heading back to his own tributes, no doubt.

Johanna walked away next, and Darla popped up to follow her.

“Think they’ll kill each other before the games start?” Finnick asked, angling his head to look at you.

You let out a chuckle, still tucked under his arm. “Let’s hope not. I’m counting on those repressed feelings to bring in sponsorships,” you replied, watching the two walk off. He grinned, shaking with a bit of laughter. When you looked up to catch his gaze, you realized how close you were.

“They sure are powerful,” Finnick said, holding your gaze.

You blinked at him, “Sorry?”

“Repressed feelings,” he clarified, doing his best to look innocent. You elbowed him and scooted away from his grasp and out of the booth. You’d been dancing around your feelings for him for so long you didn’t know how to do anything else.

“Goodnight, Finnick!” You called over your shoulder as you marched away. He sighed as he watched you go, a small smile working on his face. Maybe Darla was onto something.

------------------------------------------------------

Hope you enjoyed <3333 next part coming soon! That one will cover the interviews and the start of the games at least

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𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ఌ 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

the dress your stylist had provided you was anything but comfortable. it was tight and itchy, and you felt like you were suffocating every time you moved.

“don’t forget darling, beauty is pain!” katarina, you stylist, mumbles as she makes minor adjustments to your outift.

“i know..” you growl, doing your best to keep your breathing even as she tightens the corset.

you sigh and glance around the room at the other victors, watching as their own stylists tamper with their outfits.

you scan the crowd, most of them focused on their stylists, until your eyes stop on someone who isn’t focused on their stylist, and instead focused on you.

your breath hitches in your throat as finnick smiles at you, but you’re quick to look away, hoping he doesn’t see the blush that begins to coat your cheeks.

finnick o’dair is possibly the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen, but you would rather die at the hands of the capitol than ever admit that to him.

once katarina is finished and happy with her work, she allows you to join the party with the other tributes.

you try to ignore how much of a struggle it is to walk- to breathe in this corset, each step you take seeming just a little bit more difficult than the last.

“beauty is pain, y/n.” you mumble to yourself, placing a hand on your stomach and continuing towards the party.

before you can enter the ballroom though, you’re tugged to the side of the wall, a gasp leaving your mouth as you immediately move to defend yourself, trying to ignore the way your breath comes in short gasps.

“it’s me! it’s just me..” finnick shushes you, his hands grabbing at your waist to push you closer to him.

his lips brush your neck and you bite your lip, “you’re the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen,” he whispers against your ear, and you shudder.

“well, pretty soon i’m going to be the bluest thing you’ve ever seen because of this shitty corset.” you mumble, and finnick chuckles.

his hands trail from your waist to the strings on your back, his fingers loosing the ribbons.

you groan once the pressure on your torso releases, subconsciously leaning against finnick’s chest.

“better?” he asks and you hum, satisfied.

“extremely.”

you both stay like that for a moment, him holding you.

having to hide your relationship with finnick is anything if not difficult. you had won the games two years after he had, the both of you being from the same district.

you had met because he was your ‘mentor’, though you never really considered him that because you were the same age.

finnick sighs, “i don’t know how to stay away from you.” he mutters against your neck.

you smile, tugging him closer to you, “then don’t.”

HES SO FINE BRO OHHHHHHH

#hunger games finnick #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #finnick o’dair x reader #the hunger games #thg #the hunger games x reader

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fragileruns · 11 months

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Okay, I’m opening my requests again <3333 I miss writing and I have (some) freetime in between my writing class. It also only lasts like a few more weeks so I’ll be way more open after that!! So pls send them in (really into writing au’s rn if you guys want to encourage me 👀)

request here

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maggiecc · 5 months

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When the World Shifts (Finnick O’Dair x reader) Part 2

Finnick O'Dair x reader

TW: It's about the Hunger Games, so murder, talks of death

You have been made shorter than Finnick, but it's not important. Do I include Y/N?

No Betas, we die like vikings.

Part 1, Part 2 (here), Part 3, Part 4: TBD

The day of the reaping came all too soon. The days leading to the reaping were filled with training, for Finnick, and you, as well as everyone taking shifts with Annie. If you were with her, Finnick trained with Mags, if Mags was with her you and Finnick trained, and if Finnick was with her, you and Mags trained. Annie had fallen back into many of her old patterns from the months after her games, if she did not have one of you to ground her she would start to scream and rip her hair out. You worried that when you and Finnick left, Annie would only have Mags but she will know where you are and you are unsure if Mags will be enough.

“Are you ready love?” Finnick pulls you from your thoughts. You take a breath in to steady yourself.

“Does it really matter?” You attempt to joke, but your words hold much truth. It doesn’t matter if you are ready, the reaping will occur and you will soon be on a train to the capitol, whether or not you like it.

The District 4 victors all gather together to walk over hand in hand. You walking next to eachother, Finnick, you, Annie, and Mags stepping onto the stage together. You looked at the bowls, the left had 3 pieces, and the right had 1; seeing them making it feel all the more real.

The capitol representative who had drawn, Annie’s, Finnick’s, and your names walked up to the bowls. He began his long-winded speech from the capital all about the importance of the Hunger Games and how significant the quarter quell is. It was a summary of what Snow had said, and that speech was already burned into your brain. You start to disassociate from yourself, it had been so long since the last time time you had been at the reaping in person.

After your victory, you tried to go to the reapings to meet the tributes after they were reaped to help comfort them, but it became too much. No matter how much you tried the tributes were outmatched by the careers. So over the years, you had to stop going, seeing the names pulled and looking at the faces of the children who were lambs to the slaughter became too much. Sometimes you still dream of those first few kids,

Coral was only 14 when she was chosen, and had a smile that could light up a room. She made you a bracelet you still wear on your wrist, made of dried fish bones and odd-shaped shells. She went in with Moss, a soft-spoken 16-year-old. You grew up on the same road as him, his older brother even went to school with you. He did not have hope for himself but spent the game trying to protect Coral. They lost their game by a sneak attack while they slept, leaving you a wreck for weeks. The only comfort you had was they went fast, a mercy not many receive in the games.

The next was Annie, and although she won the loss of her partner hurt you as badly as the first two you lost. Annie winning was both a blessing and a curse, it let you keep Annie but the next 2 years held hope which only made the pain hurt more. After losing 4 more tributes you eventually stopped going to the reapings. You wanted to be there to help the kids but the mental torment was simply too much. Finnick trained, them and Mags the group after, you returned to join the rotation knowing that it was hard for Finnick and Annie as well.

Your reminiscing was cut off by someone grabbing your hand. You turn to look a the source of the warmth and comfort. Finnick looked down at you and tried to give you a comforting smile. It was like he read your mind and knew what you were doing, and he was probably doing the same. You all knew not to get too attached but it was impossible to look a those young kids and not care.

“It will be alright, love” Finnick attempted to comfort you, but you could not even muster a response, only being able to squeeze his hand.

“We shall let the men go first,” The host announced, laughing as he pretended to search around the bowl, but there was only one name. You knew what the host was about to say but you still flinched upon hearing it. “Finnick O’Dair!”

The host began to clap and District 4 reluctantly joined in, out of respect for their only male victor. Finnick gave the cameras a wave as he walks to the side for the next name to be called.

“Alright, now for the female tribute!” The host was loud and excited, so clearly capital. He saw this as some sort of game but the districts knew the truth. These were murders, children slaughtered for nothing, a war they weren’t alive for. “Our female tribute is . . . Annie Cresta!” Your heart sinks. Annie broke out in tears holding herself as she begins to weep. You knew what you were about to do, knew she wouldn’t enter the games but hearing her name still hurt her.

“I VOLUNTEER!” You scream tears starting to form. Mags begins to wrap Annie in her arms as you walk over to join Finnick.

He wraps you in a hug and leans to whisper in your ear “We will make it out, I promise.” You nod your head and wipe your tears.

You move to stand side by side and grab Finnick's hand. You raise it high above your head for your District to see. All of District 4 began to cheer for their victors, turned back into tributes. They finally have a reason to have hope, both of you were survivors and maybe you could have a chance, that they would not have to watch more of their people be slaughtered for entertainment. You had the same hope, maybe you could make it out, maybe both of you could.

Once you were able to walk off the stage you run to where Annie and Mags stood. You wrap them up in your arms, and Finnick does the same holding all three of you. Your little family, the only people who truly understood you was being torn apart. Annie grabbed both you and Finnick, gripping your arms to the point her nails dug into your skin but you ignore it. She is still crying but not screaming anymore. She lets go of your arms and grabs your heads to put them to her. She was unable to speak but you understand what she is saying. Annie lets out a soft laugh and you know that she cannot control it.

“We will make it back to you, I promise,” Finnick tells her. You don’t know if she believes him, or if you do but she lets go of your heads. She grabs your hands to give you one last squeeze followed by Mags giving you both a soft touch to the cheek and a smile.

The peacekeeper starts to head towards your group, a sign you had to leave. Their weapons stayed in their hands, not pointing towards you, but the threat was clear. You are leaving now.

“We’re coming you grunts,” Finnick told them as he turns to walk. You begin to join him but quickly turn your head around and mouth, I love you to the woman. Annie turns into Mags' arms as her weeping returns.

You turn to look up to Finnick, seeing him tensing upon hearing Annie’s cries but not being able to hug and comfort her. You grab his hand and squeeze it, making him look at you. “We got this. Mags will take care of her for when we come back.” you try to comfort him.

He gives you a soft smile that does not fully reach his eyes “Of course my love. They don’t stand a chance against us.”

You nod your head, then turn forward to walk, hand in hand with Finnick, knowing that whatever you are going to face you will at least be with him.

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lucy-gray1075 · 4 months

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finnick and annie probably had their own “you love me, real or not real moment” before he was stripped away from her.

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redwinetalks · 1 month

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I Won’t Let You Sink

Chapter 2

(Previous Chapter)

Word Count: 6.1k

Pairing: Finnick X Fem!OC

Warnings: slight self harm, angst, fluff kinda, protective Finnick, the Capitol sells them unfortunately, hurt/comfort, pre-canon, young Finnick and Silk, Silk AND Finnick pov, Silk doesn’t understand that’s she’s crushing on Finnick,

Summary: Silk is back a the Capitol and she’s in for a rough night! She’s real stressed and Finnick tries to comfort her teehee.

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~ Silk ~

Only a few weeks have passed and I find myself back at the Capitol. It feels too soon. Like the days sped up so I couldn’t even try to feel the happiness I found back at home. I only was given a few days before any thought of peace was stripped away from my arms.

I feel greatly exposed while standing on the small platform in the middle of a room filled with mirrors. Everyone who’s here to help make me “beautiful” is just staring at me. I wish I could sink through the floor.

My stylist, Bijou, is filled with much more excitement than I am as she rips the last wax strip off my leg. I purse my lips at the pain.

“Last one! Now you’re all silky smooth. Just like your name!” She smiles widely and laughs at her unoriginal pun. I try to smile back at her but I can only muster up a slight twitch of my lips. She doesn’t seem to notice. “Now, you’re going to get your makeup and hair done, then you can just step into your dress! Oh, you’re going to love it! I worked extra hard on this one. I have to make you even more eye catching.”

Bijou has always been very kind just maybe a bit oblivious. She probably doesn’t even know why I’m supposed to stand out more than usual tonight. I wonder if she’d be sick to her stomach like I am if she knew what was happening. But maybe she does know, and that makes it even more gut wrenching.

She continues her rambling while the makeup teams tries to bring back the life drained from my face.

“You know, I’ve always liked District 8. I mean, yes it is very dreary, but your people created the beautiful fabric used to make the dress! And the clothes you all wear look so bright and colorful. It’s such a shame the place has to look so drab.” Her words actually cause me to let out a small laugh. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone speak nicely about 8, especially in the Capitol.

“Thank you, Bijou. That’s very kind.” She smiles widely again and I notice the little jewels on her canines. The people here seem to want to bejewel everything.

I can tell that the purpose of my makeup was to makeup me look more innocent. They used an excessive amount of blush and made my lips look quite pouty. They straightened my hair and curled it just slightly at the ends. A few strands are tied up in the back with a delicate bow. If I didn’t know the purpose of this look was to make me have more “doll like” features, maybe I would like it. But I’m just thinking of the sick creatures who desire me looking like this.

Bijou leads me back to the small platform to put on my dress. She was right, the fabric is beautiful. The light pink dress has a corset bodice adorned with pearls and floral lace skirt that goes to my ankles. It leaves my shoulders exposed which must be why the makeup team made them look so shiny.

I wonder if they were asked to make me look specifically like this, as if by request. Am I wanted to be in pink because it’s someone’s favorite color? Are my lips supposed to look this pouty so they can seem more irresistible? These thoughts fill me with a sickening feeling of dread. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look at myself again without wondering what predatory thoughts fill those who see me. Is this how I’ve always been thought of? Someone who can be easily taken advantage of and damaged?

“Darling? Come now.” I quickly turn to Bijou as she takes my hand. “You have a short meeting with Snow before you go to the party.” I look at her with a panicked expression. I didn’t know I was to be meeting with him. “Oh don’t look so nervous! He’s only a little intimidating.” She giggles and leads me out the room.

I walk a few steps behind her, my uneasiness slowing down my pace. I know he’ll probably only give me more information about tonight, but that thought does nothing to ease my anxiety. The corset doesn’t help either.

The walk to wherever we’re meeting is incredibly daunting. Part of me hopes the walk never ends, but the other part can’t wait to get this over with. It’s not even like I’ll be filled with relief once I’m done talking with Snow. I’ll immediately have another thing to worry about. It’s an endless cycle of horrors.

“Here we are!” Bijou stops and opens a door. I struggle to make myself move. “Darling?” She looks at me with her cheery face, but there’s a hint of confusion.

“Sorry, I…” I trail off. She doesn’t understand and I can’t explain it to her. There is no one here that I can express my true feelings to. There is no one to comfort me. I just have to push through on my own.

Apprehensively, I walk through the doorway and there he is. He sits in a large, dark leather chair with his back facing me. Drink in hand, his arm drapes off the armrest and on the floor I can see his foot tapping. Not impatiently, but as if he’s counting the tempo of a song stuck in his head.

The room isn’t at all inviting. What I’ve seen from the Capitol’s style so far has been over the top and extravagant, but this is much different. Everything seems to be curated to Snow’s image, very poised and crisp. He is tasteful, not at all gaudy, and it makes everything intimidating.

Unlike the beginning of his first visit, he isn’t ushering me to sit. He’s letting me take my time to walk around to the chair directly across from him. It feels like I’m walking to my death and the fearfulness radiating off my body is adding to his entertainment. I try to look more composed and unbothered by his presence, but I know it falls flat. He can see me inside and out. I am wrapped around his finger and it’s agonizing.

“Miss Fabelle, you look lovely. Thank you for meeting with me to discuss tonight’s events.” He gives me a small, cunning smile as I sit. He gestures to an envelope on the small table beside my chair. “That, my dear, contains all the details you will need. You are to be on your best behavior and arrive to your room at your scheduled time.” I tensely nod at him. He looks directly into my eyes and I grit my teeth, resisting the urge to talk back to him. It won’t do me any good. Snow does a good job at staying calm and collected, but it’s not hard to see the true evil that’s inside him. He is successfully sucking the life from me.

“Yes, sir.” He stands and then walks to the window behind me. I shut my eyes and put my hand on my chest to try and calm my breathing. The smell of roses fills my senses.

“That’ll be all, Miss Fabelle. I do hope you enjoy tonight’s festivities, but remember dear girl, you are here on business. This party isn’t for your entertainment.” I stand and nervously straighten out my dress.

“Yes, President Snow. I understand.” And I am thankfully dismissed from this suffocating room, on to the next horror.

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~ Finnick ~

The amount of linen my stylist chose to put me in isn’t at all ideal considering the weather. It’s still a bit chilly out and the thin cloth makes me feel practically naked, well that and the fact that my shirt is barely even buttoned.

It’s only been an hour and I’m already fed up with the amount of women that have all but drooled on me. Women that are probably ten or twenty years older than me. It will never not be completely disgust me, the Capitol’s obsession with teenagers that have been forced to murder. Getting aroused by that is fucking psychotic.

“Finnick! It is such a pleasure to see you again.” A woman I faintly remember from one of the last parties walks towards me. Her bright orange feather dress is practically blinding.

“The pleasure is all mine, sweetheart.” I wink and kiss her hand. I’d say she’s blushing but it could just be all of the makeup she’s wearing.

“You’re always so charming. I can’t wait to see how you’ll charm me later tonight.” She whispers in my ear and then gives it a swift lick. Her boldness almost makes me jump back. I could gag, but then I’d ruin the facade.

“C’mon now, don’t get me all riled up here.” I whisper back, thankful she can’t see my face. I know the look in my eyes isn’t at all believable. “Save it for later.” I smirk at her before walking away.

I walk towards a table of drinks and finger foods. I’m gonna need to down a bottle of something to get through his night. I see her as she goes to grab a glass of wine at the opposite end of the table. Silk. Wine seems to be her drink of choice. She almost goes for the red, but pauses and then reaches for the rosé. Probably a wise decision considering the color of her dress. The pink really looks stunning on her.

I didn’t expect to see her again so soon, but there she is. They didn’t even give her time to get her bearings before dragging her back over here. She looks like she’s glowing. I’m sure part of that effect is from her stylist, but not all of it. There’s something about her that makes her shine. In a way that’s soft and ethereal, like moonlight. If she is the moon, Silk pulls me into her world like the tides. And I go willingly.

I’m not sure what it was, but when I first saw her I felt immediately drawn in. When she was standing away from the crowd, finally getting away from the vultures, I felt like I had to meet her. It could’ve been my only chance. And she was nothing if not astonishing. I didn’t have enough time with her. I was left wanting more, but there was nothing I could do since I had other obligations. I’m not as busy tonight which is a relief. I may have more time to get to know her.

I walk towards her, looking around to make sure no one is itching for my attention.

“Hello again, Silk Fabelle.” She flinches, not unlike when I first met her, but it’s even more noticeable this time. “You know, I really don’t mean to startle you with every greeting.” I laugh but her expression doesn’t change a bit.

“It’s fine.” Something is off. The air around her is different.

“What’s going on, doll face?” She looks at me and glares. Shit. Why did I say that? Of course calling her by what the Capitol has deemed her as would be triggering. I wish I would think before I fucking speak. She has a way of making me so nervous, something others can’t do so easily. I’m usually more grounded. I’ve gotten so good at this confident facade of flirtations that it’s almost as easy as breathing. But with her…I feel it melting away. Like I’m having to relearn how to communicate.

“Don’t call me that.” She turns away from me and looks at her glass. I swear I can see tears brimming her eyes.

“I..I’m sorry I wasn’t thinking. I should’ve known not to.” She doesn’t look back up at me. I reach out my hand to her arms and she backs away slightly.

“What do you want, Finnick?” Her tone isn’t malicious, it sounds defeated. When she finally looks back up at me I can almost feel my heart breaking. She looks so empty.

“I just…are you okay?” And then it hits me. They’ve started selling her. But It isn’t her time to start. It can’t be. She just finished the games, they can’t be moving this fast with her.

“Just trying to make it through the night.” She gives me a pitiful smile. “You should go enjoy it while you can.” She starts to walk away, but I can’t let her leave yet.

“Silk, please.” She stops and turns back towards me. I wish I could embrace her and tell her it’ll be okay. But I can’t and it won’t. There’s nothing I can do to stop what Snow has planned for her.

“I’ve got places to be, Finnick. People to meet. Maybe another time we can finally have a full conversation.” Sorrow fills her voice. I watch her walk away and the pull that I feel from her just gets stronger. I want to be wrong. I wish that she could just be left alone, but I know how her night will go. I know that in the next few hours she will have yet another trauma. Another nightmare that will wake her in the night. But I refuse to let her suffer alone.

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~ Silk ~

The man that bought my time for the night finally leaves and I’m left on the bed, still face down. Maybe if I lay here long enough I can melt away. I could just become a decayed mess that was left here to rot. My skin burns and I can feel the tears trickle across my face and onto the bedspread. I finally sit up to cover myself with the sheets and make my way the bathroom. I only make it two steps before my legs give out on me and I drop to the ground. I just continue with a slow, pathetic crawl. I can’t imagine what I look like, but the thought is enough to make me vomit once I reach the toilet. Once I finish I continue to sit there and let go of the sobs that I was holding in. I want to scream until my throat turns raw and bleed, but I have to suck it all up. The punishment that my mom would have to pay the price for constantly floats around in my thoughts. It torments me.

I finally try to stand up and I brace myself against the counter. I stare just below the mirror for what feels like hours until I shakily raise my head to look at myself. I don’t even know who is staring back at me. She’s looks broken and filled with dread. I see only a shell of a human being. I feel so infuriated with what she has just gone through. What she has been going through. Before I realize, I grab a candle that was sitting on the counter and throw it at the mirror. My hands are shaking as the shattered glass falls into the sink. If only that had helped release some of my built up tension. All I can do is stand there and look at the mess.

I’m startled by the door to my room opening and I wrap myself tighter in the sheet. An avox enters to fix up the bed, but she notices me cowering in the bathroom doorway. She looks at the broken glass and doesn’t seem phased at all. I feel guilty for her having to clean it up, but hopefully she can forgive me all things considered.

She stands just outside the bathroom door once she’s done making up the bed. As if she’s ushering me to leave so she can start clearing away my breakdown. I hesitantly walk past her back into the bedroom. I see a change of clothes on the dresser for me and since she’s shut away in the bathroom I go ahead and put them on.

I don’t think I can lay again in that bed, let alone sleep in it, so I just sit down on the floor by the loveseat. I feel quite pathetic. I feel angry. I feel like I could burst at the seams, just like my dress did. I wonder how Bijou would feel knowing the dress she worked so hard to make is now ripped up on the floor.

“I don’t care. I don’t care about the mirror that I shattered. I don’t care about her. I don’t care about anyone or anything here. I don’t fucking care.” The saliva built up from my tears and sick spit out slightly as I whisper angrily to myself. Without realizing, I’m also sinking my nails into my shoulders while holding myself. I’ve grown to do that a lot now. Mostly when my anger and sadness builds up. The sight of me is a disgusting mess, I’m sure of it. I didn’t used to feel this weak and despondent. I used to be confident and full of so much life. I was passionate about caring for my district, but I tried to always remain positive. I tried to stay hopeful. But I’m scared that’s all gone. That I’ve lost who I was and I don’t know if I’ll be able to find her again. She has sunken into the abyss and there is no one to bring her back to the surface.

The avox walks out of the bathroom finally and looks at me on the floor. She looks like she has a some pity in her eyes, but it quickly fades away when she turns to leave the room. As she opens the door I can see a figure standing in the hall. Is there going to be someone else? Am I not done? My nails sink farther further into shoulders and I stare into the hallway, not even trying to hide the panic in my eyes.

The avox walks away and I can see that it isn’t someone here to use me, it’s Finnick. But why is Finnick here? How does he even know that I’m here. I know I didn’t even try to hide my misery, but how did he find me?

“Silk..?” He looks at me with that familiar softness in his green eyes. “Is it okay if I come in” he speaks in a whisper.

“How’d you know I was in here?” I say quickly as if I’m accusing him of something.

“I bribed an avox into pointing me to your room.” I can tell he was about to use his suave way of speaking to lighten the mood, but it isn’t the time. He knows to be serious.

“Why?” I say so plainly. He doesn’t have to be here. He doesn’t know me. There isn’t anything to gain from being here. But he looks at me with hurt, but it’s hurt for me. Is it so insane to wonder why anyone would want to be here with me right now?

“Because, I know what happened here. And I said I didn’t want you to have to go through this alone. I meant that. Especially with this.” And the sadness in his eyes is back. The same look from when we met. The illusion has faded and I can see that this is what is causing him to sink. I shouldn’t be surprised by the fact that he is going through this too, I just didn’t think about how many others Snow is forcing to sell their bodies.

I nod at him and move over on the floor, allowing him to come in. He sighs and smiles sadly at me but I look down and continue to hold onto myself. Like I’m scared I’ll float away. He walks in slowly to not cause any sudden stress and then sits next to me. I move over a bit more. It’s not like he’s done anything wrong, but I’m scared to be close to him. I’m scared to be close to anyone. Just him knowing what happened in here is terrifying to me. What if this gets me in trouble? What if it leads back to Snow?

“How…how are you doing?” I huff out a laugh. Like the audacity of the question makes it humorous.

“Fucking fantastic.” I then turn to look at and I know he sees the anger in my face. His entire demeanor shifts from worry to guilt.

“I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. I just-“

“I know.” I cut him off, “I’m sorry. I know you’re just trying to help.” I look back at him and wish he could just read my mind. The words feel too difficult to say. “It’s just…” I hesitate, trying not to start crying. “…they took my girlhood…that was mine. No one is supposed to just take that from you. But they snatched it up with no remorse. I thought that I’d get to go home. That when I won, I’d get to go home and be with my mom and live my life. I knew I’d still have to relive the pain again every year when mentoring. I knew I would have guilt and nightmares and all of these horrible memories, but I’d at least be home. But I can never go back home. I am trapped in this hell forever.” I no longer try to stop my tears from falling. My shoulders ache from me grasping on for dear life. It’s all too much and I hate it.

“Silk” he tries to calm me. He tries to move my arms.

“Don’t touch me.” I snap at him. I don’t mean to, it just comes out and he immediately withdraws himself.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have. Just, please, you’re hurting yourself.” I shakily remove my hands from my shoulders and instead mess with the hem of my shirt. I try to tell him I’m sorry, but I can’t speak. I want his comfort but I’m too panicked. My breathing is rapid and he can tell. He shifts just slightly closer, but he’s cautious to not get too close.

“Hey, just look at me. You’re safe. You’re okay, I’m with you. No one else is coming through that door. Just keep looking at me and follow my breathing.” He takes deep breaths in and out and I try to follow. It’s shaky, but my breathing calms down. I keep looking at him and try to ground myself. “That’s good. You’re okay, yeah?” He gives me a small, reassuring smile and I nod. I timidly reach out my hand. I want to touch him. To feel that he is real. He reaches back to hold my hand, but not before intently looking at me to get the okay. His thumb rubs my palm at the pace that he was using to calm my breaths. I close my eyes and sigh deeply. “Let’s go get you cleaned up, okay?”

I nod and stand up, still holding his hand. His other hand is ready to help if I stumble. When we walk into the bathroom he lets out a small laugh.

“Oh, yeah...I broke the mirror.”

“I can see that. Good work.” He looks at me and smiles. He inspects to counter to make sure there’s no leftover glass, and then helps me up to sit. He grabs two washcloths, one for my face and one for my arms, and runs them under warm water. He hands one to me and I start cleaning up as much of the makeup and dried tears as I can while he tends to my shoulders. The focus that Finnick puts into cleaning my small cuts is so caring and gentle. I can’t help but look at him. He looks so concentrated and beautiful. Like he was carved out of marble, and then I see his dimples forming from the smirk he’s giving me.

“Like what you see?” I roll my eyes and turn my face away from his.

“You’re annoying” His face looks dramatically hurt and shocked.

“You’ve wounded me. I’m heartbroken.” I can’t help my lips from twitching. “There’s that smile, pretty girl.” I turn my head back to face him and sigh. He is so unusual to me. There is so much more to him than what meets the eye. His cockiness and flirtatious spirit is just one of playful banter. It’s not who he truly is. It’s his cover for the Capitolite, but besides that it’s just to amuse. To lighten the mood. The real Finnick is much more complicated and I’m so compelled to uncover his true character.

“Why are you doing this? Being so nice to me.” He rolls his eyes.

“Why do you keep asking me that?” He laughs lightly and I shrug.

“I just don’t understand. You just met me yet you keep being so kind to me. You keep going out of your way and there is nothing to gain.” He sighs and looks down at the washcloth in his hand.

“Remember when you helped that kid in the arena? That girl from 2 got his leg pretty good with a spear and you could’ve just left him there. Let someone else find him. But you helped him up, led him to a place where he could hide, and tried your best to clean up his wound. You even gave him some of your food before you left. You didn’t know him. You had nothing to gain from that, but you did it anyway.” I remember him. He was so small. I didn’t want to help him, I wanted to ignore everything around me. I wanted to shut off my emotions, but he was just a little boy. He didn’t deserve to be left in mud, waiting for someone to kill him. And I knew that if I saw his picture at night, it would’ve been my fault. That wouldn’t have been survival. That would’ve been inhumane.

“He was from 4. He was yours.”

“Yeah..he was a good kid. You didn’t treat him like a tribute you had to kill, you treated him like a person. He was able to survive longer because of you. Your kindness, it meant something to me.” I look down at my hands. I don’t even know if that was kindness. I did it to save myself from the guilt. But, I guess sometimes that’s what kindness is. Maybe that’s why Finnick is here tonight.

“I guess I’ve been having a hard time trusting people’s motives.”

“For good reason.” He lets out a sarcastic laugh. “Come on pretty girl, let’s run you a hot shower.” He holds my hand as I hop off the counter and then goes to start the water. He holds his hand under it to feel for the perfect temperature. He decides everything is ready and steps towards the door. At first, him caring for me made me feel a bit uneasy, but I guess it’s not too much. It is better than doing this all alone.

“Alright, I’ll be just outside if that’s okay. I don’t have to stay, though.” His sweet green eyes look into mine. I can tell he wants to, like he wants to protect me.

“You can. I think..that’d be nice.”

The warm water washes over me and I run my hands through my hair. I wish I could easily scrub away the events of today. The most I can do is scrub away the feeling of disgust. I guess this is supposed to be my future routine. Every few months I go up to the Capitol for a day or two, go through hell, then go home. I’m sure that’s how they think of it. So simple. I can easily get over it. How is someone supposed to get over having their body taken advantage of? They’re not, but I’m not thought of an actual person here. Just a toy.

This is happening to Finnick too. He said he knew what happened. He knew how to calm me and what to do to help. This is all so hard to come to terms with. Finnick won three years ago at just fourteen. Did Snow make him start immediately, like me? If so, he’s been doing this for so long already. All on his own. No one to soothe him after the torture. How is he still standing? Has he become numb to it? That thought doesn’t make it any better.

From how I have felt tonight, I cannot imagine what Finnick felt his first night. Fourteen years old and left to suffer in silence. I can only hope that they weren’t so horrible to him that young.

I could have stayed in that shower for hours and still wouldn’t have felt completely clean. I dry myself off and I’m relieved I can barely see what I look like because of the broken mirror. I don’t know how I’d feel seeing myself naked right now, but I know it wouldn’t be positive. It’d probably set me off again.

When I’m finished getting dressed I walk back into the bedroom. I see Finnick waiting patiently on the loveseat and he smiles when he sees me. He has such a beautiful smile. His dimples and the creases near his eyes make him look so warm and inviting. I sit on the opposite side of the couch, keeping some space between us. I think I’m beginning to trust him, but he still makes me nervous. That feeling I don’t quite understand. It’s not necessarily negative, it’s just…different.

“Feeling a bit better?” I nod and wrap my arms around my legs, giving myself a sense of security. The worst of the night is over, but it’s hard to feel at ease.

“I think so. Thank you, by the way. For being here and being patient.”

“You don’t have to thank me, sweet girl.”

“Maybe, but I want to. Your kindness means something to me.” I smile softly and he looks down at his hands, blushing slightly. I feel like I can see him more clearly. Like I’ve uncovered a portion of his mystery. So much has happened to him tonight too, but I haven’t seen him upset. Like he holds it in. Like he wants to care for everyone else first.

“Finnick?” He hums in response immediately. Ready to help in any way I’d need, but I don’t need anything from him right now. I just want him to know I would do for him what he has done for me. “How are you feeling?” He shakes his head, brushing me off.

“I’m alright. You don’t need to worry about me.” He smiles, but I know this one isn’t as genuine. He is hiding his pain and my heart aches for him.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, but just like you have worried over me, I am going to worry over you.” He turns his head to the side, looking out the window at the city below us. He stays that way for a minute and I give him his time.

“They were quick with you. They didn’t give you any time to settle. They didn’t start immediately with me. At least not like this. They gave me the illusion of peace. I would come to Capitol parties every few months or so. Get dragged around by different women, but just to talk. Every now and then someone would touch my arms or my chest while flirting, but that was it. When I turned fifteen, things started to slowly escalate. It was secretive, but I’d be taken to backrooms for quick sessions. Nothing below the belt, but then I turned sixteen.” He takes a breath, somewhat shaky. He still isn’t looking at me, but I haven’t taken my eyes off of him. “Nothing was off the table. They could do whatever they wanted and I had to go along with it. And Snow would make sure of it.” I look at him sadly. I know how he was threatened. How he didn’t actually have a choice. He takes another deep breath and runs a hand through his hair. He’s looking at me now. His eyes are just slightly red. Like he is holding back tears that he refuses to let fall. “Every time I go back home I spend the entire day at the beach. I ignore everyone else and just swim as if I could swim away from this. It’s the only place I can let go. To try and distract myself from what happens here.”

“Tell me about it. The beach, the water.” He tilts his head, but I see his lip twitch slightly. It’s like just the thought of the ocean can bring him some ease. “There’s a place just past the border in 8 that I go to get away from everything. There’s a very small, rocky beach, but the water is too polluted from the factories. All I can do is listen to the waves, but it’s my favorite thing to do. Ever since I found that spot I wanted to know what a real ocean is like. How the water feels on your skin. What it sounds like washing up against sand.” He looks into my eyes and smiles, no longer trying to suppress it.

“It’s my favorite place in the world. Every morning that I can, I start by running to the beach and immediately jumping in the water. It’s so cold when it’s early, the sun is barely even up, but it’s breathtaking. You feel the coolness against your skin, flowing with you as you move. You can taste the salt in the air when you go above to breathe. It’s a feeling of freedom that you can’t feel anywhere else. When the breeze hits your body as you get out of the water. It’s unlike anything you could imagine. It’s hypnotizing.” He looks so captivated by his thoughts. Like he’s been taken to another world. I don’t know if I have anything like that. Something that can bring me so much peace and happiness.

“I hope I can experience that someday” Now it’s me turning to look outside. The hope that I feel is so strong. The hope that one day things can be good. That this world will no longer be suffocating and terrifying.

“Maybe one day you can.” I turn back to him and he’s looking into my eyes so earnestly. There’s a warmth that I feel from him. He thinks the same thing that I do. That strong feeling of hope is what can keep us going.

I keep trying not to fall asleep, but my eyelids have become so heavy. Thankfully, my conversations with Finnick have distracted me enough that I can feel somewhat relaxed. But I can’t get back in that bed. I can’t sleep there.

“I’ll grab some blankets.” He gets up to start turning the loveseat into my bed for the night.

“I don’t know if I’ll actually be able to sleep. I’m sure the second I’m alone with my thoughts I’ll be too anxious to.” I let out a nervous laugh.

“I can stay if that’d be okay. If it would help.” I watch him walk back over to me. The moonlight from outside glows on his tan skin as he stands near me. His golden blonde waves have gotten messier throughout the night, but he still looks perfect.

“You don’t have to do that. I mean, where would you sleep? Unless you’re okay with the bed.”

“I’m fine on the floor. And then, if you need anything…I’m right there.” He says that so casually as puts the blanket over the cushions, but I can see the slight tint of pink sneaking up on his cheeks. I can feel my face heating up as well.

“You can’t sleep on the floor, Finnick.” I help tuck the blanket into one corner.

“Sure I can. I’ve slept on worse.” He shrugs. He’s not wrong and I can say the same, but still. Am I even sure I want him to stay? My thoughts are quick to say yes, the night with him has been lovely, but what if that got back to Snow? Does that actually matter? I was never told I couldn’t develop a friendship with other victors. However, something tells me that whatever happiness I find here will be stolen away from me.

“It’s up to you. If you’re fine with the floor I’m fine with you staying.” He grins so sweetly. I can tell he doesn’t want to be alone either.

I lay on the loveseat, facing Finnick as he lays on the floor. We both talk about home, learning about each other’s district as we grow more and more tired. When I finally fall asleep, my arm is draped over the cushion and I swear I can feel the touch of Finnick’s fingers lightly on mine. As if he’s reaching up to tell me he’s not going anywhere. His protective touch saves me from any nightmares that dare to enter my mind.

*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°

Thank you so much for reading! You all were so nice with my first chapter. I hope you enjoyed this one :) As always I am open to kind feedback. Also let me know if you’d like to be tagged for the next chapter!! <3

Tag list <3 (I again tagged some people who liked the related posts. Hope that’s okay!!)

@ghoulbabs @lusy98 @marvelescvpe @simplymurdock @marcyss @miserablebl00d @wife-of-all-dilfs @mrsnancywheeler @gremlin515 @bruuhky @0ceanautical @princessofyourmom @babypaperwitch @readawaythereality2

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